There was a length of about ten feet of the pole down in the hole as we took hold together and began to haul, feeling something very heavy at the end, which came up in a sullen, unresisting way for some distance, giving me courage and making me nearly as eager and excited as our man.
“That’s the way, sir. We’ll soon— Hi! Hold tight! Wo—ho, there; wo—ho! Ah!”
For all at once the creature began to struggle furiously, shaking the pole so that we dragged at it with all our might; and then—Whoosh! The alligator left go, and we went backward on the soft mossy earth.
“I am glad!” I thought, as we struggled up.
“There, Master George, what d’yer think o’ that? Can’t have such games as this at home in the old country, eh?”
“No,” I said. “But you’re not going to try again, are you?”
“Not going to try again? I should think I am, till I get the great ugly creature here at the top. Why, you’re not skeart of him, are you?”
“Wait till he’s out, and then we’ll see,” I replied, as I thrust the pole down again, giving it a fierce twist, and felt it seized once more.
“That’s the way. This is a bit of the finest sport I ever had, and it’s just dangerous enough to make it exciting. Haul away, my lad.”
I set my teeth and hauled, the reptile coming up quickly enough half-way, and then beginning to writhe and shake its head furiously, every movement being communicated to our arms, and giving us a good notion of the strength of the enemy we were fighting, if fighting it could be called. Up we drew it inch by inch, and I must confess that with every change of the position of my hands I hoped it would be the last, that the creature would leave go, and drop back into the hole, and that Morgan would be so disappointed that he would not try any more.