The great alligator usually lays fifty or sixty eggs, rather oblong than oval, and about the size of those of a goose,--covering them up with sand, and allowing them to be hatched by the heat of the sun. The mother, however, does not desert her young, but conducts them to the water, and watches over them till their scales have hardened, and their limbs have gained sufficient strength to enable them to take care of themselves. Waterton relates an anecdote showing the daring ferocity of the creature when pressed by hunger. It was on the banks of the Orinoco, near the city of Angostura. The tale was told him by the governor of that place. "One fine evening, as the people of the city were sauntering up and down the alamada by the banks of the river, a large cayman rushed out of the water, seized a man, and carried him down, before any person had it in his power to assist him. The screams of the poor fellow were terrible as the cayman was running off with him. The monster plunged into the river with its prey, and we instantly lost sight of him, and never saw or heard of him more." Bates also relates that a native crew, having arrived at Egga, got drunk, when one of the men, during the greatest heat of the day, while everybody else was enjoying an afternoon nap, took it into his head, while in a tipsy state, to go down alone to bathe. He was seen only by a feeble old man, who was lying in his hammock in the open verandah at the rear of his house, at the top of the bank. He shouted to the besotted Indian to beware of an alligator which had of late taken to frequenting the neighbourhood. Before he could repeat his warning, the man stumbled, and a pair of gaping jaws, appearing suddenly above the surface, seized him round the waist, and drew him under the water. A cry of agony--"Ai Jesus!"--was the last sound made by the wretched victim. The young men of the village, going in search of the monster, came up with it when, after a little time, it rose to breathe, with one leg of the man sticking out from its jaws. It was immediately despatched, with bitter curses. One night Bates and his party were asleep in their hammocks in an open shed on the banks of the river, with a fire made up in the centre. He was awoke by his attendants hurling burning firewood, with loud curses, at a huge cayman which had crawled up the bank, and passed beneath his hammock towards the place where a little dog lay asleep. The dog had raised the alarm in time. The reptile backed out, and tumbled down the bank into the water, the sparks of the brands hurled at him flying from his back and sides. Notwithstanding this, the next night he repeated his visit.