The more usual plan, however, adopted by these great amphibious reptiles for seizing their prey, is to lie just under the bank, in the water, with only their eyes and the breathing-holes of their nostrils above it, so that they are quite invisible amidst the sedge or rushes, which commonly fringe the shore. If an animal—an ox for instance—comes down to drink where they lie—and they are clever enough to select a good drinking-place—they spring up and seize it by the muzzle, and then, joining their strength to their weight, and with some powerful backward strokes of the tail, in the water, they endeavour to overbalance it, and make it topple down the bank. Whether they are successful, or not, will depend on the size and strength of the animal thus seized, and still more on how much it may be taken at a disadvantage. A powerful ox or a buffalo—except, perhaps, the giraffe, the two largest animals that are at all likely to be attacked—will, often, drag its assailant up the bank, retreating backwards, and succeed, at last, in getting free from the terrible jaws. But should it stumble, or make a false step, which is very likely, the chances will be greatly against it. Its own weight adds, now, to the drag of the crocodile upon it; it slides or rolls down the incline, and, once in the water, all is soon over—it is dragged beneath the surface and drowned. All the crocodile family are hatched from eggs, and although the parent is so large—perhaps twenty or thirty feet long—the eggs it lays are no larger than those of a goose. Consequently, the young crocodiles and alligators, in spite of their great mothers who try to look after them, are preyed upon and devoured by a great number of creatures, birds, fishes, various mammals, and even sometimes their own fathers. But when they become large and strong, there is only one wild animal I know of that cares to interfere with them, and that is the savage jaguar of South America. How large an alligator has to get before the jaguar is afraid to attack it, I do not know, but as Mr. Bates disturbed the creature at his meal on one, which, he thought, had left the water to lay its eggs, I suppose it was a fair size. Why Mr. Bates does not, himself, tell us how large it was, and why he says nothing more upon such an interesting subject—only just that he frightened the jaguar and found the remains of the alligator—I really don’t know; but it is an irritating way which travellers sometimes have. They generally go on to talk of something not nearly so interesting, and never turn back to what you would like to hear more about. This particular alligator had left the river-bank, and crawled up into the forest which was some distance away from it. This would have given the jaguar a great advantage, and perhaps it is only under such circumstances that even he would venture to attack an alligator of any size, since, if the latter could get to the water, all his efforts would be in vain.