On March 25, 1953, a skink that I had caught the day before and left overnight in an unheated room, was found to have burrowed into loose earth in its container. When exposed, its temperature was 1.8°C and it was unable to crawl normally, but took only one step at a time, and progressed with slow lateral squirming motions. Placed on the ground outside the building, in the shade where there was still a little frost, it moved forward persistently for several inches trying to burrow into the surface litter. After a few minutes, its eyes were shut and it seemed incapable of further locomotion. Its temperature was 1.4°C. When placed on its back it was able to turn over slowly after several seconds. A few minutes later its temperature was 0°C, and it was totally helpless, although still capable of feeble movement. When stimulated by touch, it flexed its body a little, or moved each limb slowly in an arc as if walking, the movement taking several seconds. Placed on its back or side it was unable to right itself. Less than three hours later I saw a skink that was active in the field. Slight movement at the edge of a rock that was exposed to sunshine attracted my attention and turning the rock I found the skink underneath, lively enough to scramble for shelter but slow and stiff compared to those that are fully active. Its temperature was 13.5°C and air temperature was 7.5°C. In damp soil beneath the rock where the lizard was found, temperature was only 5.7°C. It seemed that the skink had been sufficiently warmed by contact with the undersurface of the rock to move into the open, and was just emerging when I approached. After capturing the skink, I set it on a rock in the sunshine, and in five minutes its temperature had risen to 26°C.