CHAPTER V
THE TURTLE
One time I went out hunting with Milton. Just as we reached the forest he began to get a scent. He stretched out his tail, pricked up his ears, and began to sniff.
I got my musket ready and started after him. I supposed that he was on the track of a partridge, or a pheasant, or a hare. But Milton did not turn off into the woods, but into a field. I followed him and looked ahead.
Suddenly I caught sight of what he was after. In front of him a little turtle was making its way it was of the size of a hat. Its bald, dark gray head and long neck were thrust out like a pistil. The turtle was moving along by the aid of its bare feet, and its back was wholly covered by its shell.
As soon as it saw the dog, it drew in its legs and head and flattened itself down into the grass, so that only its shell was visible.
Milton grabbed it and tried to bite it; but he could not set his teeth through it, because the turtle has over its belly the same sort of crust as over its back, with mere openings in front, on the side, and at the back for putting out its head, legs, and tail.
I rescued the turtle from Milton, and examined how its back was marked, and how its shell was constructed, and how it managed to hide itself away. When you hold one in your hands and look under the shell, then, only, can you see something within, black and living.
I laid the turtle down on the grass and went on, but Milton was loath to leave it; he seized it in his teeth and followed me.
Suddenly Milton whined and dropped it. The turtle in his mouth had extended a claw and scratched his lips. He was so indignant against it on account of this that he began to bark, and again picked it up and trotted after me.
I told him to drop it again, but Milton would not
