“That’s easy enough, Neb. All we have to do is to turn it on its back, and then it cannot get away. Take your spear and do as I do.” The reptile had shut itself in its shell, so that neither its head nor eyes were visible, and remained motionless as a rock. The lad and the negro placed their spears underneath it, and, after some difficulty, succeeded in turning it over. It measured three feet in length, and must have weighed at least 400 pounds. “There, that will please Pencroff,” cried Neb. Indeed, the sailor could not fail to be pleased, as the flesh of these turtles, which feed upon eel-grass, is very savory. “And now what can we do with our game?” asked Neb; “we can’t carry it to Granite House.” “Leave it here, since it cannot turn back again,” answered Herbert, “and we will come for it with the cart.” Neb agreed, and Herbert, as an extra precaution, which the negro thought useless, propped up the reptile with large stones. Then the two returned to Granite House, following the beach, on which the tide was down. Herbert, wishing to surprise Pencroff, did not tell him of the prize which was lying on its back upon the sand; but two hours later Neb and he returned with the cart to where they had left it, and—the “splendid specimen of chelonia mydas” was not there! The two looked about them. Certainly, this was where they had left it. Here were the stones he had used, and, therefore, the lad could not be mistaken. “Did the beast turn over, after all?” asked Neb. “It seems so,” replied Herbert, puzzled, and examining the stones scattered over the sand. “Pencroff will be disappointed.” “And Mr. Smith will be troubled to explain this!” thought Herbert. “Well,” said Neb, who wished to conceal their misadventure, “we won’t say anything about it.” “Indeed, we will tell the whole story,” answered Herbert. And taking with them the useless cart, they returned to Granite House. At the shipyard they found the engineer and the sailor working together. Herbert related all that happened. “You foolish fellows,” cried the sailor, “to let at least fifty pounds of soup, escape!” “But, Pencroff,” exclaimed Neb, “it was not our fault that the reptile got away; haven’t I told you we turned it on its back?” “Then you didn’t turn it enough!” calmly asserted the stubborn sailor. “Not enough!” cried Herbert; and he told how he had taken care to prop the turtle up with stones. “Then it was a miracle!” exclaimed Pencroff. “Mr. Smith,” asked Herbert, “I thought that turtles once placed on their backs could not get over again, especially the very large ones?” “That is the fact,” answered Smith. “Then how did it—” “How far off from the sea did you leave this turtle,” asked the engineer, who had stopped working and was turning this incident over in his mind. “About fifteen feet,” answered Herbert. “And it was low water?” “Yes, sir.”