"Alligator," explained Jacinto succinctly, in
their tongue.
"Ugh!" they grunted.
"Bless my--bless my----" hesitated Mr.
Damon, and for one of the very few times in
his life his language failed him.
"Are there many of them hereabouts?" asked
Ned, looking back at the swirl left by the saurian.
"Plenty," said the guide, with a shrug of his
shoulders. He seemed to do as much talking that
way, and with his hands, as he did in speech.
"The river is full of them."
"Dangerous?" queried Tom.
"Don't go in swimming," was the significant
advice. "Wait, I'll show you," and he called
up the canoe just behind.
In this canoe was a quantity of provisions.
There was a chunk of meat among other things,
a gristly piece, seeing which Mr. Damon had
objected to its being brought along, but the guide
had said it would do for fish bait. With a quick
motion of his hand, as he sat in the awning-
covered stern with Tom, Ned and the others,
Jacinto sent the chunk of meat out into the muddy
stream.
Hardly a second later there was a rushing in
the water as though a submarine were about
to come up. An ugly snout was raised, two
rows of keen teeth snapped shut as a scissors-
like jaw opened, and the meat was gone.
"See!" was the guide's remark, and something
like a cold shiver of fear passed over the white
members of the party. "This water is not made
in which to swim. Be careful!"
"We certainly shall," agreed Tom. "They're fierce.
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