They had not gone very far before it became very evident that all that Coot Brewer had said about the alligators in that creek was entirely correct. The ugly creatures were seen in great numbers, appearing, as Chap said, to come from every direction except down from the sky. They rose up from the bottom of the creek, their great heads and backs appearing above the water. The boat, which Coot rowed in an extremely gentle manner, did not seem to disturb them at all, and they came toward it, or swam away from it, as if it was of no consequence, some of them approaching almost within an oar’s length. On the bank, huge monsters, who had been lying in the reeds and mud, raised themselves on their short legs, and looked around at the intruders, while big ones and little ones slumped into the water on each side, some of them swimming toward the boat, and some of them away from it. “I’m going to take a crack at one of them,” said Phil, picking up the rifle. “No, no!” said Coot. “Don’t do that. Wait till we float down.” “Why, we can’t get a better chance than we have now,” said Phil. “We don’t frighten them a bit.” “But that ain’t the way,” said the other. “You’ve got to hunt ’em the right way, or it’s no good.” So they rowed on still farther, and the creek became a little narrower, while the number of alligators greatly increased. Several times Coot touched one of them with the end of the oar, and a big fellow rose right under the boat, giving it quite a jar. “Look here!” said Coot, with a troubled expression. “I never see ’em as thick as this afore. This warm weather has brought ’em out.” “We might as well shoot some of them,” said Chap. “We can never have a better chance.” “Don’t you do it,” cried Coot. “You’ll make ’em mad, and they’ll pitch in and clean us up in less than no time.” “What’s the good of coming,” said Phil, “if we can’t shoot them when we see them.” “Wait till we git where there ain’t so many,” said Coot. “I reckon they’re scarcer higher up.” “Queer way of hunting,” remarked Phœnix, “when you look for a place where the game is scarce.” At this moment an immense alligator, with a body apparently nearly as big around as a barrel, who had been standing on the bank intently watching the boat as it passed, waddled hastily into the water, and swam directly after it. Coot saw the approaching creature, and, with a sudden exclamation, he began to tug wildly at the oars. Phil seized the rifle, and turned toward the alligator. “Don’t fire!” screamed Coot. “You’ll rile him awful! You’ll rile ’em all! Put down the gun!” Unwillingly Phil laid down the rifle, and Brewer rowed as hard as he could. The alligator did not pursue them long, but soon disappeared beneath the surface of the water; but this did not allay the fears of the oarsman. “He ain’t gin up yet,” he gasped. “He’ll come up in a minnit, right under us, and then over we’ll go!” [Illustration: “Don’t fire!” screamed Coot.]