It swam near the bottom, with a very graceful and rapid movement, and occasionally aided itself over the uneven ground with its feet.

As soon as it arrived near the edge, but still being under water, it tried to conceal itself in the tufts of sea-weed, or it entered some crevice.

As soon as it thought the danger was past, it crawled out on the dry rocks, and shuffled away as quickly as it could.

I several times caught this same lizard, by driving it down to a point, and though possessed of such perfect powers of diving and swimming, nothing would induce it to enter the water; and as often as I threw it in, it returned in the manner above described.
Perhaps this singular piece of apparent stupidity may be accounted for by the circumstance that this reptile has no enemy whatever on shore, whereas at sea it must often fall a prey to the numerous sharks.

Hence, probably, urged by a fixed and hereditary instinct that the shore is its place of safety, whatever the emergency may be, it there takes refuge.
During our visit (in October) I saw extremely few small individuals of this species, and none I should think under a year old.