After firing a good many shots, and gathering a somewhat miscellaneous bag, Mr. D—— saw a large alligator asleep on some mud, lying half in and half out of the water; and as I was the only one of the party who had brought any bullets, he sent one of the guides to show me where it lay, in hope that I might get a shot.
Slowly, and with the greatest caution, I waded through water until I got within twelve yards of where the brute lay, and aiming about an inch behind the eye, drove a bullet clean into his brain. He gave a convulsive kind of shudder and lash with his tail, and was, I believe, dead; but to make certain I gave him the second barrel at about four yards’ distance behind the shoulder, and then felt quite confident that I had indeed “wound him up.”
It was some time before we could induce the natives to assist in pulling him on dry land. Though they do not mind them living and swimming about, they are particularly careful of a wounded one, a single sweep of its powerful tail, even when mortally stricken, being known to break both legs of a man like a pipe-stem. Though dead enough to all intents and purposes, an alligator, like either a shark or a turtle, will continue possessed of a certain amount of vitality and motion for a long period after life is really extinct. This fellow was still gently swaying his tail about while we bent on a rope to it, and, all five of us clapping on, soon hauled him to the dry mud on the bank, where we took his length, opened his jaws, and generally examined the formidable-looking reptile at our leisure. He was about fifteen feet long and inconceivably hideous. The first bullet had smashed a large hole exactly where I aimed,—namely, about one inch behind the eye; the skull seemed comparatively thin there, was unprotected by any thick skin, and a large lump of his brain was oozing through the wound. The second bullet went through his heart; but I am convinced that it was unnecessary, as the first shot had done all that was needful.
Much as people have written to the contrary, I am quite satisfied now that an alligator is as easily slain as a rabbit, if only hit in the right place; and that place is not in the eye, as is generally stated, but on the same level, and from an inch to an inch and a half behind it. The brain in all reptiles lies rather far back in the head, joining almost to the neck. By striking one in the eye from many positions it is quite possible that the brain may not be touched at all; while, if the ball hits the slightest degree in front of it, on the creature’s long ugly snout, the bullet might as well be chucked in the river for all the harm it will do the alligator. Unsightly as these gentry are, the Indians occasionally eat them. The skins are sometimes tanned; but they smell so strong, it is an awkward job to handle them. During dry seasons they collect in vast quantities in the small pools still left unevaporated, and are then killed in large numbers for their hides, which when tanned are found serviceable for many purposes. They are tougher than ordinary leather, and resist water better. Only the belly pieces are used.
Some few years ago during a very heavy rain, a number of alligators got taken out of the lake by a small river running into the sea, which was greatly flooded. They were immediately attacked by the sharks, and a strange battle ensued between these equally voracious monsters, which all the people of the village flocked out to witness. The battle lasted all day, and the noise of the combat could be heard half a mile off. John Shark was, however, more at home in his native element than his scaly antagonist, and eventually the alligators were all eaten up or killed.