It was beautiful moonlight.

About midnight, sailing close in shore, they were passing a white, sandy beach when one of the crew asked Boyton if he would like some turtles, as the place they were then passing, swarmed with them.

An affirmative answer being given, the sloop was hove to, while Paul and the sailor entered the gig and pulled ashore.

Under the strong rays of the moon, the turtles on the white sand appeared to be as thick as ants.

Selecting two or three of the smaller size for their game, hundreds of them being too large to be turned over by their united efforts, they quickly threw them on their backs while the others ran into the sea with astonishing celerity considering their very poor reputation for speed.