Forest and Stream, October 27, 1881
THE "TARRAPIN" BEFORE THE HOUSE.
Sea -- Terrapin
YORKTOWN, Va., Oct. 17.
Editor Forest Stream:
I see that the Pot Luck Club has spoken, and decided that the turtle is both fish and game -- a most wonderful decision, and never equalled save in Aesop's fables. When the birds of the air and the beasts of the field declared war upon one another, the bat, not wishing to take sides with either, passed himself off alternately for a mouse and a bird, but being caught was tried for his life. After hearing all the testimony Mr. Chief Justice Owl, presiding gave it as his opinion that the bat was both beast and fowl, and ordered his release -- a decision that so pleased the bat that he took board with the owl in a hollow tree, and their descendants dwell together in peace and amity to this day.
While on the subject I send you a speech delivered in the Virginia Legislature by one of the members in support of the theory that the terrapin is game, and I leave it to the sportsmen which is right -- the President of the Pot Luck Club or the Virginian.
By the way, we never call them turtles down here, but terrapins. Just here I may add that Colonel Bumgardner, of Staunton, offers a bottle of his celebrated whisky, warranted sweet and strong, to the man that will make the best rhyme to "terrapin" -- the editor of the FOREST AND STREAM to be the umpire.
But the speech! the speech! as the Roman populace cried to Mark Anthony and Marcus Brutus. I enclose it. Here it is:
Mr. Speaker:
A bill, having for its object the marking and specifying the close season for catching and killing turtles and terrapins, has just been introduced by the gentleman from Rockbridge who asks that it be referred to the Committee upon Game, of which I have the honor to be chairman. To this disposition of the bill the gentleman from Gloucester county demurs on the ground that turtles or terrapins are fish and not game and, therefore, should be sent to the committee on Fish and Oysters.
On Chesapeake Bay and its tributaries, says the honorable gentleman, turtles and terrapins are frequently captured many miles out at sea in nets or with artificial hook and line, as all other members of the finny tribe are, and, therefore, they are fish and nothing else but fish.
Sir, I have the profoundest respect for the gentleman's opinion. As a lawyer he has achieved not only a State, but a National reputation; but even I, opposing a pin's point against the shield of Pelides, take issue with him. Sir, I am no lawyer, I don't even understand enough of law to keep out of its meshes, but I will answer his sophistries with a few plain, unconvertible facts; and, as the old saw hath it, facts are stubborn things.
Is the turtle a fish? I opine not. Down in the lowlands of the Potomac River, where I came from, the darkeys have dogs trained to hunt terrapins when they come up on dry land to deposit their eggs, and when they find them the canines bark like they were treeing a squirrel, or had holed a 'possum. Now I ask the House did they ever hear of a fish being hunted with dogs?
Who does not know that a turtle has four legs, those legs feet, and those feet are armed with claws like a cat's, a panther's or a lion's? Has the gentleman from Gloucester ever seen a fish with talons? I trow not!
It is well known that a turtle can be kept in a cellar for weeks, and even months, without water. Can a fish live without water? Why, sir, it has grown into a proverb that it cannot. And yet the gentleman says the turtle is a fish!
Do we not know that we may cut off a turtle's head and he won't die until the sun goes down. Suppose, now, some modern Joshua should point his sword -- which is as potent as Ithurial's spear -- at the sun, and command it to stand still in the heavens: why, Mr. Speaker, the turtle could live a thousand years with his head off. And yet the gentleman says the turtle is a fish!
Aesop tells in his fables of a race between the tortoise and the hare; and we are left to believe that it took place on dry land, the author nowhere intimating that it was a swimming match. Did the gentleman from Gloucester ever hear of a fish running a quarter stretch and coming out winner of a silver cup?
I read but a short time ago, Mr. Speaker, of a man who had a lion, which he offered to bet could whip any living thing. The challenge was accepted and the money put up. A snapping turtle was produced, which conquered the lordly king of beasts in the first round. Can the gentleman from Gloucester bring any fish from York River to do the same?
Again, the turtle has a tail. Now, what Nature intended him to do with that caudal appendage I cannot divine. He does not use it like our Darwinian ancestors, the monkeys, who swing themselves from the trees by their tails; nor like a cow or mule, as a brush in fly time; nor yet as our household pet the dog, who wags a welcome to us with his; nor, finally, does he use it to swim with. And, sir, if the gentleman from Gloucester ever saw fish that didn't use his tail to swim with, then he has discovered a new and most wonderful variety.
Mr. Speaker, I will not take up the valuable time of the House by a further discussion of this vexed question. I will have only one more shot at the gentleman -- to prove to him that the turtle is the oldest inhabitant of the earth. Last summer I was away up in the mountains in Giles County, some two hundred miles from the ocean. One day, sauntering leisurely up the mountain road, I picked up a land tortoise or turtle, and examined him. I saw some quaint and curious characters engraved on the horny shell on his back. Through lapse of time the letters were nearly illegible, but by dint of persevering efforts I deciphered the inscription, and read: Adam -- Paradise -- Year One.
Mr. Speaker, I have done. If I have not convinced every member on this floor except this gentleman from Gloucester that the turtle is not a fish, then I appeal to the wisdom of this house to tell me what in the name of common sense it is.
CHASSEUR.