In a recent letter to the editor, local naturalist Albert Conway eloquently stated the need to protect bats and harmless snakes that consume various pests. He also mentioned his habit of stopping to rescue box turtles from the perils of the highway, and his comments encouraged me to write a column about these ancient armored reptiles.

There are plenty of box turtles at Hilton Pond because I, like Mr. Conway, often collect local individuals that are stranded amidst traffic and transport them home. After arriving at their new stomping grounds, many of these immigrants stick around, perhaps because of the profusion of delectable blackberries that grow on our property near York.

Eastern Box Turtles--named Terrapene carolina when first found in our Carolina region--are omnivores, eating just about anything tasty they can sneak up on. Blackberries certainly qualify, and I was startled once to see a normally-terrestrial box turtle gorging himself in a bramble bush at the dizzying height of three feet. I can't imagine the effort it took for him to climb to that altitude, but the ripe berries must surely have been worth it.

Young box turtles are carnivores, consuming grubs, slugs, and earthworms, while adults are more herbivorous. Mushrooms appear to be a favorite delicacy, and the box turtle partakes of all types--including those poisonous to humans.

This may explain why some people die from eating turtle soup; a poorly-prepared fungus-fed turtle may contain still-toxic mushroom spores.

The box turtle is so called because it, unlike most of its relatives, can pull in head, tail, and legs and completely close its shell. (Once I found a mature box turtle so stuffed with blackberries that rolls of fat protruded everywhere; he was unable to withdraw ANY appendages!) The upper shell, or carapace, is a one-piece dome, while the flat lower plastron is hinged. When shut, the shell halves provide a nearly impenetrable fortress that resists the gnawing of mammalian predators and the pecking of birds. However, it is scant defense against automobile tires, lawnmower blades, or sadistic humans with hammers and pellet guns.

Lugging around even a one-room house all the time has drawbacks for box turtles. The heavy shell limits maneuverability, hence the slow pace of the land turtle on patrol; aquatic turtles have it easier because water provides buoyancy and reduces their apparent weight.

The box turtle's shell further impedes a most important aspect of its life--the ritual of mating. In mammals, usually covered only by hairs, the skin is quite sensitive to touch; this allows a considerable degree of responsiveness when it's time for the mating game. In reptiles, however, thick scales protect but desensitize the body, and the turtle's shell provides an even greater buffer against outside stimuli. Imagine how difficult it must be for an amorous male turtle to get the attention of his intended since he can't caress her sensuously or blow in her ear.

One spring I encountered a female and two male box turtles in a courtship scenario that initially confused me. The ground was still covered with brown, dead leaves of autumn, and I kept hearing strange sounds in the underbrush: "Rustle. Rustle. Rustle.....Click!" At first I thought a squirrel was rooting through dry leaf litter, or that a bird was scratching around for insects. I finally realized that each male box turtle was building up a head of steam by "rustling" through the leaves in the female's direction, then "clicking" hard into her shell--all in super slow-motion. These courting males had to make the female aware of their presence, and whispering sweet nothings probably wouldn't have worked.

The two males continued their shell game for half an hour until one overturned the other with a flip of his head. (Dead turtles I have found on their backs in the woods may have perished this way in the heat of the chase.) After gaining sole rights to the female, the dominant male greatly intensified his rustling and clicking. Finally, he let out all the stops and began using his front claws to stroke the female on her nose--about the only sensitive locale on her entire exterior. This seemed to do the trick, because a few minutes later the male mounted the female, first jamming his hind legs between her plastron and carapace to allow the bases of their tails to remain in contact without painful, debilitating injury.

After about 50 minutes the mates separated and meandered off in pursuit of spring mushrooms; if the tryst was successful, fertilization probably occurred within days after mating. The eggs then developed internally, and a yolk and a leathery shell were laid down around each one as it matured. Interestingly, female box turtles can store sperm for up to three years, so they need not bump into a male every year to continue propagating.

In a typical June follow-up to mating, the female finds a small sloping patch of bare soil, urinates to soften it, and digs a small hole with her hind claws. Into this a clutch of two to seven spherical eggs is deposited, and the female covers them, rocking back and forth to smooth and compact the soil with her plastron. She then wanders off, abandoning the eggs to be incubated by the sun for 90 days or so. If raccoons or dogs or people don't dig up and eat the eggs, one-inch miniature box turtles hatch out by late summer with only a month or so to feed before hibernating. When things go exceptionally well, these babies mature sexually in five years and may live through 75 or a hundred winters.

All baby box turtles look pretty much alike, but mature adults often can be sexed by the color of their eyes. Males generally have ruby-red or orange-red irises, while females are brownish-orange or yellow. This is not foolproof, however, and although turtles probably have no trouble knowing who's what, the best way for us to tell the sexes apart is to examine the plastron. Females have a very flat or slightly bulging lower shell, while a pronounced indentation indicates a male. This dimple in the male's plastron allows him to mount the female without sliding off, and the lack of a dimple in the female provides more room for internal egg development. What a simple but elegant piece of engineering efficiency!

As fall approaches in the Piedmont, mushroom-fattened box turtles bury themselves in soft soil, often leaving exposed the tops of their orange and brown carapaces. On mild mid-winter days, solar heating will bring box turtles out of hibernation long enough for a meal or two, but if a severe cold snap follows a warm spell, some of them may freeze to death. Most manage to re-bury, and their metabolisms slow back down before they perish.

Knowing these sorts of things generates in me a great deal of awe and respect for box turtles, but it sickens me that some people go out of their way to molest and destroy them. Turtle expert Archie Carr puts it like this:

"There exists a curious lot of witless or psychopathic characters who love to run over box turtles on the road to hear them pop, and there is probably nothing much that can be done about these people except to hope they skid."

I'm more optimistic. Let's spread the word about box turtles and hope a little enlightenment can halt the slaughter AND the skidding.