Tortoises lay their eggs in underground nests, where they remain for almost a year, and, strange to say, they have a very curious way of drilling holes for these nests with their tails. A tortoise picks a spot where the earth is bare, and then stiffens its tail by contracting the muscles strongly, placing the tip firmly against the ground and boring a hole by moving it round and round in a circle, until a cone-shaped cavity is produced, wide at the top but tapering to a point below. When this operation is completed, it immediately sets to work to enlarge the hole with the help of its hind legs. It does this by scooping out “shovelfuls” of dirt, first with one of its hind feet and then with the other, and heaping it up like the wall of a fortress around the pit. Tortoises use their feet like hands when they do this, very carefully placing the dirt in a circle at some little distance from the edge of the cavity, and the work is continued until the hole is dug down as deep as the hind legs will reach. When it finds that no more soil can be removed, that is, at the end of an hour or more of steady digging, the tortoise accepts the job as completed and proceeds to deposit its eggs inside very carefully, just as you would put hen’s eggs into a basket. While all this is going on the body is scarcely moved and the head is kept inside the shell. There are usually nine eggs and they just about fill the bottom of the nest, which measures approximately five inches across and is itself shaped more or less like an egg, being wider inside than at the top. After about half an hour’s rest, the hardest part of the work is begun--that of filling up the hole and leveling the ground. The dirt is placed carefully over the eggs, a “handful” at a time, the hind legs being used alternately again for that purpose. As the cavity is gradually filled up the tortoise presses the earth down with the outer edge of its foot. It takes another half hour’s rest after all the dirt has been carried back again, and then commences the part of the operation where the tortoise moves quickly enough to merit another racing title. It beats down the dirt-mound and stamps it firm and flat with the under side of its hard shell, raising the hind end of its body and then hurriedly letting it drop to the ground again, turning round and round in a circle very briskly in the meantime, at the same time doing all it can to remove any traces which might lead to the discovery of its nest. The Story in a Newspaper[11]