"Never mind. Come on. Keep close to me, and splash as much as you can."
Kinnersly walked forward. Even in the moonlight he could not see the causeway so much as a step ahead. The thick brown swamp water hid it completely. And both he and Godfrey knew that one false step meant a death almost too horrible for words. An alligator fears a man upright on dry land, but in its native element it fears nothing, and will pull down a dog, a horse, a man, or a bull.
Closer and closer the dreadful brutes closed in till their yard-long jaws actually rested upon the crumbling edges of the sunken causeway.
Now and then one would open his vast jaws and blow the air through his nostrils with a noise like a giant snoring. Then the great yellow tusks would clash together with a sharp, ringing sound horribly suggestive of a steel trap closing.
Kinnersly, who was leading, found the water growing deeper.
"Is there a hole there?" cried Godfrey anxiously.
"Afraid there is, old man," replied Kinnersly, feeling cautiously with one foot. "We ought to have brought sticks."
"The 'gators are closing up behind," said Godfrey desperately. "We must shove ahead at any price."
"Right; I have found bottom. Come on." Kinnersly dropped onto his knees. Immediately the whole horde of alligators began moving up. Godfrey, following close behind his friend and splashing vigorously, could not repress a shiver of horror. "Quick!" he hissed; "quick, or they'll have us."
At that very moment the surface of the water broke in front of Kinnersly, and out of the depths heaved itself up a nightmare apparition. An alligator, bigger than any they had seen yet—a gnarled and rugged monster of huge length and enormous girth.