"There's one! There! There! There!"
But it was generally a log, or a reflection, or something else that was not an alligator.
Of course we were very near both shores at all times, for the river is so narrow that a small boy could throw a ball over it; but occasionally the deeper part of the channel flowed so near one shore that we ran right up close to the trees, and the branches flapped up against the people on the little forward deck, making the ladies, especially the lady belonging to the yellow-legged party, crouch and scream as if some wood-demon had stuck a hand into the boat and made a grab for their bonnets.
This commotion every now and then, and the almost continual reports from the guns on board, and Corny's screams when she thought she saw an alligator, made the scene quite lively.
Rectus and I took a turn every half-hour at the rifle. It was really a great deal more agreeable to look out at the beautiful pictures that came up before us every few minutes; but, as we had the gun, we couldn't help keeping up a watch for game, besides.
"There!" I whispered to Rectus; "see that big bird! On that limb! Take a crack at him!"
It was a water-turkey, and he sat placidly on a limb close to the water's edge, and about a boat's length ahead of us.
Rectus took a good aim. He slowly turned as the boat approached the bird, keeping his aim upon him, and then he fired.
The water-turkey stuck out his long, snake-like neck, and said:
"Quee! Quee! Quee!"