Arrived at home, our first care was to turn the turtle on his back, to get the excellent meat out of the shell.

With my hatchet I separated the cartilages that unite the shells: the upper shell is convex, the lower one nearly flat.
We had some of the turtle prepared for dinner, though my wife felt great repugnance in touching the green fat, notwithstanding my assurance of its being the chief delicacy to an epicure.
We salted the remainder of the flesh, and gave the offal to the dogs.
The boys were all clamorous to possess the shell; but I said it belonged to Fritz, by right of conquest, and he must dispose of it as he thought best.
"Then," said he, "I will make a basin of it, and place it near the river, that my mother may always keep it full of fresh water." "Very good," said I, "and we will fill our basin, as soon as we find some clay to make a solid foundation." "I found some this morning," said Jack,--"a whole bed of clay, and I brought these balls home to show you." "And I have made a discovery too," said Ernest.

"Look at these roots, like radishes; I have not eaten any, but the sow enjoys them very much." "A most valuable discovery, indeed," said I; "if I am not mistaken, this is the root of the _manioc_, which with the potatoes will insure us from famine.

Of this root they make in the West Indies a sort of bread, called cassava bread.

In its natural state it contains a violent poison, but by a process of heating it becomes wholesome.