In a short time no traces of the creatures were left, and the Indians again turned to the paddles.
“Is it safe to go on?” asked Joe.
“Yes,” the professor replied. “They probably won’t attack the boats. And if they should they could do little or no damage to the stout hulls.”
For a few seconds he conversed with the Indians. Then the party resumed the journey, keeping a close watch about.
No more was seen of the alligators, and the explorers again were quiet. But now they were more anxious than ever before, for the past experience had stirred their sporting blood and made them long for a jaunt in the forest. Even Professor Bigelow was affected, and he sat fingering his rifle as if awaiting another such incident.
“Alligators and crocodiles are very much alike,” said Mr. Lewis, wishing to break the silence. “The only difference is in the canine teeth. In the alligator they fit into pits in the upper jaw; in the crocodile they fit into notches. Otherwise they look alike.”
“Which is the most ferocious?” inquired Joe, thoroughly interested.
“Scarcely any difference,” his father returned. “Both are bad enough when they’re after you.”
For a time the adventurers paddled near the center of the river, in order to avoid heavy piles of brush that lay near the shore’s edge. They did not feel like talking. The mid-afternoon sun beat down upon them until they were dripping with perspiration. Why, even summer Florida weather was nothing to this!
The water glistened like silver. It was almost impossible even to cast eyes upon it, for the reflection of the sun was extremely blinding.