“Gee!” said Bobby, “if I had known that, I think I’d have spent the night up a tree. I could hear one pretty close while I was keeping the fire going, too.”
“Probably he was attracted by the light of the fire,” said Lee. “But I don’t think they’d bother any one on land, as a rule. But they’ll tackle anything in the water, and if they once get a grip with those pointed teeth of theirs, its all over for the one that’s caught. The alligator just drags him down under the surface, waits until he’s drowned and then drags him up on the nearest sandbank and swallows him at his leisure.”
“That’s fine—for the alligator,” muttered Fred, with a slight shiver which was not all the result of the clinging mist. “I don’t think I’ll do much swimming while we’re in this swamp.”
“I’d advise you not to,” said Lee. “I sure hate ’gators, but just the same I wouldn’t mind finding a few of their eggs for breakfast.”
“Eggs!” exclaimed Bobby and Fred together.
“Certainly,” said Lee, laughing at their amazed look. “I don’t care for them much as a rule, but one or two now wouldn’t be half bad.”
“Good-night!” exclaimed Fred. “What do they taste like, anyway?”
“Oh, they’re not so bad. They have a rather unpleasant musky taste, but if you’re hungry enough you don’t mind that. The darkeys think they’re fine, and spend a lot of time hunting them out.”
“Where do you find the eggs?” inquired Fred.
“The ’gators dig out holes in the sand or mud, fill them with eggs, and then cover the whole thing over with more sand,” said Lee. “After a while the heat of the sun hatches out the eggs, and then the mother ’gator takes charge of the little fellows and protects them until they’re big enough to take care of themselves.”