“There’s one!” cried Arthur, giving his companion a grip on the arm. “Look!” And they both started on a run for the dark object that lay so still.
“Oh, come off; don’t you know the difference between a patch of sand grass and a green turtle? What about the laugh this time?”
“That’s all right; I know a shark when I see it. This lantern flickers—By Jove! look at that!” Arthur stopped in his tracks and grabbed the light out of Frank’s hand.
There were two deep tracks in the sand that paralleled each other—unmistakable sign of a monster turtle. Both boys followed the trail on the run, only to find that Madam Turtle had been and gone, also that bruin or coon had feasted royally on the eggs.
A hundred yards further on, they came to another track, and with excitement less strong, but still with nerves and muscles tense and hearts throbbing, they followed fast. The moon broke from the clouds and silvered the crescent sea, the wind-tossed palms showed black against the sky, and the beach shone white under the light. “Hurrah!” Frank shouted. “Now we can see.” The pale gleam showed a dark shape ten yards from them that moved awkwardly. “There she is, Art. Come on!”
In a minute they had come up to a giant turtle, which, on their approach, drew in its head, then shot it out again, its beaked mouth opening and closing wickedly.
“Shoot it, Frank!” Arthur cried, utterly flustered. “Hit him in the eye! Hit him somewhere, quick!”
“No; let’s get hold of his shell and flop him over on his back, then we’ve got him.” Taking hold of the huge creature’s shell, just back of the crooked hind legs, they heaved and strained to turn her over. It was no use, the beast was too heavy, and the turtle, objecting to this treatment, started for the water.
“THE MOON BROKE FROM THE CLOUDS AND SILVERED THE CRESCENT SEA.”