Picking up a stick which was lying near the ashes, Chap gave the stupid creature a little punch. The opossum merely twisted itself up a little and opened its mouth. “Upon my word!” said Chap; “if you are not the tamest wild beasts in the world! I don’t believe either of you ever saw a man before, and don’t know that you ought to be afraid of him. But I’m not going to hurt a non-resistant. You can go ahead and eat your supper, for all I care.” And so he slipped quietly back into the tent, and left the opossums to continue their meal. It might have been supposed that when Chap did close his eyes, he would sleep longer than the others, but this was not the case. Either because he did not rest well in a new place, or because his mind was disturbed by his responsibilities as captain of the party, he awoke before any of the others. It was broad daylight, and again he slipped out of the tent without disturbing any of his companions. The opossums were gone, and Chap walked along the water’s edge, looking at the hosts of birds which were flying above him. There were gulls and many others which he did not know, and near the other side of the river was a small flock of very large birds, which he supposed must be pelicans. As he walked round the little clump of trees, under which the tent was pitched, he saw upon the sand, near the water’s edge, something which made his heart jump. It was an alligator, the first Chap had ever seen out of a menagerie. It was about eight feet long, and was lying in the sunshine, with its head toward the water. Chap stood and gazed at it with mingled amazement and delight. He never thought of fear, for he knew an alligator would not come after him. Slowly and gradually he came nearer and nearer the strange creature. It did not move. Was it dead? or asleep? He felt sure it was the latter, for it did not look dead. What a splendid thing it was to be so near a live alligator on its native sands! If there were only some way of catching it! That was almost too glorious to think of. If he had a rifle he might shoot it; but that would be nothing. But to catch it alive! The idea fired his soul. He would give anything to capture this fellow, but how could he do it? He remembered the account that had so pleased him, when he was a boy, of the English captain--Waterton, he thought his name was--who sprang astride of an alligator, and seizing its forepaws, twisted them over its back so that the creature could not walk, nor reach its captor with its jaws or tail. At first Chap thought that he might possibly do this, but he saw it would be a risky business. The alligator’s paws looked very strong, and he might not be able to hold them above its back. Even if it got one paw loose, it might turn round and make things lively. “If I could only get a rope round the end of his tail,” thought Chap, “I could tie him to a tree. That would be simply splendid!”