A pair of diminutive Egyptian tortoises, Testudo kleinmanni.
OK, Chris, what are those?

I had ventured over to harass Chris and Mike while they unpacked a shipment of Egyptian imports. I recognized most of the herps, but the critters before now, little tortoises, were something new. They looked a bit like Hermann’s tortoises, but were much smaller, a little more elongate, and these ostensibly came from Egypt and Hermann’s didn’t, so????

And that was my introduction to the little “Egyptian” tortoise, Testudo kleinmanni. It was apparently rare back then and is now even more so. And sadly, as I later learned, those in that first shipment didn’t fare very well.

There seem to be very few of this tortoise species in America but a few are bred in zoos and by private hobbyists each year.

The highly domed carapace varies in color from a variable off-white, through buff, to brown. Reflecting more heat than darker colors, this allows the little tortoise to remain in the open and forage longer. The carapacial scutes often have dark edges or dark anterior blotches. The plastron is off white to buff and carapace is light yellow, often with two dark triangles on each of the two abdominal scutes. The head, neck, and legs are pale. These colors blend well with the light background colors of their desert home. Adult size is about 4”.

This is a chelonian species that I have never worked with. I have been told that although shy, the species does well and breeds readily once acclimated. I’m glad I had an opportunity to meet them so many years ago and hope to see more captive bred examples in the future.

Closeup and personal--a portrait of a hellbender.
Hellbender. Say the word and even herpers who have very little interest in salamanders suddenly perk up their ears. After all, this big aquatic caudatan is not only the biggest caudatan species in the USA, it is one of the 3 or 4 largest in the world. To see one of these, Cryptobranchus alleganiensis by scientific nomenclature, is always wonderful, for not only are they, the salamander, be they baby or adult, unfailingly impressive, but the stream and rivers where they dwell are equally so.

In face, it is the beauty of the surroundings, the solitude, the wading knee-deep in clear rushing waters, the verdancy of the stream-edge laurels, the foggy crispness of the mountain air, as much as the possibility and hope of seeing North America's largest salamander, that keep me returning to certain favored locales.

But there is that hope and, occasionally, persistancy pays. Once in a great while if you flip stream shallows rocks looking for shovel-nosed salamanders you just might turn up a baby ‘bender. Or if you wade enough at night, your headlamp is bright enough, and the water is running clear, you just might be lucky enough to surprise one of the bottom walking big guys while it’s out on a crayfish hunt.

I’ve spent many a night doing just that. I’ve done it in February when the edges were ice-rimmed and the water was so cold that it felt like your toes would drop off. And I’ve done it on July nights when the river ran a whole lot warmer than it had in February. And I’ve seen hellbenders a few times for my efforts. And what wonderful experiences these successes were.