This evening we ate the last of our olives, and found the water in our jug so putrid that we could not swallow it at all without the addition of wine.

Determined to kill our tortoise in the morning.
July 31.

After a night of excessive anxiety and fatigue, owing to the position of the hulk, we set about killing and cutting up our tortoise.
He proved to be much smaller than we had supposed, although in good condition,--the whole meat about him not amounting to more than ten pounds.

With a view of preserving a portion of this as long as possible, we cut it into fine pieces, and filled with them our three remaining olive jars and the wine-bottle (all of which had been kept), pouring in afterward the vinegar from the olives.

In this manner we put away about three pounds of the tortoise, intending not to touch it until we had consumed the rest.