'Just warming some water,' she answered. 'Do you know how to
swim?'

'Yes, of course I do. What a question! But what does it matter
to you?' said the turtle, more suspicious than ever.

'Oh, I only thought that after your long journey you might like
to wash. The roads are so muddy, after the winter's rains. I
could rub your shell for you till it was bright and shining
again.

'Well, I AM rather muddy. If one is fighting, you know, one
cannot stop to pick one's way. I should certainly be more
comfortable if my back was washed.'

The woman did not wait for him to change his mind. She caught
him up by his shell and popped him straight into the pot, where
he sank to the bottom, and died instantly.

The other turtles, who were standing at the door, saw their
leader disappear, and felt it was their duty as soldiers to
follow him; and, springing into the pot, died too. All but one
young turtle, who, frightened at not seeing any of his friends
come out again, went as fast as he could to a clump of bushes,
and from there made his way to the river. His only thought was
to get away as far as possible from that dreadful hut; so he let
the river carry him where it was going itself, and at last, one
day, he found himself in the warm sea, where, if he is not dead,
you may meet him still.