Bernardin de St. Pierre gives us the following picturesque description of turtle-catching on Ascension Island;--"Fire-wood, a kettle, and the great boat-sail were landed, and the sailors lay down to sleep, as the turtles do not emerge from the sea before night-fall. The moon rose above the horizon and illumined the solitude, but her light, which adds new charms to a friendly prospect, rendered this desolate scene more dreary still. We were at the foot of a black hillock, on whose summit mariners had planted a great cross. Before us lay the plain, covered with innumerable blocks of black lava, whose crests, whitened by the drippings of the sea-birds, glistened in the moonbeam. These pallid heads on dark bodies, some of which were upright, and others reclined, appeared to us like phantoms hovering over tombs. The greatest stillness reigned over this desolate earth, interrupted only from time to time by the breaking of a wave, or the shriek of a sea-bird. We went to the great bay to await the arrival of the turtles, and there we lay flat upon the sand in the deepest silence, as the least noise frightens the turtles, and causes them to withdraw. At last we saw three of them rising out of the water, and slowly creeping on shore, like black masses. We immediately ran up to the first, but our impatience caused it to drop immediately again into the sea, where it escaped our pursuit. The second, which had already advanced too far, was unable to retreat; we turned it on its back. In this way we caught about fifty turtles, some of which weighed five hundred pounds. Next morning, at ten, the boat came to fetch the produce of our nocturnal sport. This work occupied us the whole day, and in the evening the superfluous turtles were restored to the sea. If suffered to remain a long time on their back, their eyes become blood-red, and start out of their sockets. We found several on the strand that had been allowed to perish in this position, a cruel negligence, of which thoughtless sailors are but too often guilty." In the sea, also, the turtles are pursued by man. In the clear West Indian waters, where they are frequently seen at great depths, feeding on the sea-grass meadows, divers plunge after them and raise them to the surface. Sometimes they are harpooned, or even caught sleeping on the waters. The ancient Romans, who spent such extravagant sums upon dishes repugnant to our taste, seem to have had but little relish for turtle flesh, which otherwise the conquerors of the world might easily have obtained from the Red Sea; for though we read that Vitellius feasted upon the brains of pheasants, and the tongues of nightingales, it is nowhere mentioned, that he ever, like the Lord Mayor of London, set seven hundred tureens of turtle soup before his guests.