Mr. Bartram landed, for the night, in a little bay, not far from the entrance to a small lake, another expansion of the river. Near this place there was much low and swampy land, and the islands in the river were numerous. The evening was cool and calm, and he went out in his canoe, to fish for trout. As the evening closed, alligators appeared in great numbers along the shores and in the river. Mr. Bartram states that he was witness to a combat between these dreadful animals, which inspired him with horror, especially as his little harbour was surrounded by them. In endeavouring to paddle his canoe through a line of alligators, he was pursued by several large ones; and, before he could reach the shore, he was assailed on every side. His situation became extremely precarious. Two very large alligators attacked him closely, rushing with their heads and part of their bodies above the water, roaring terribly, and, from their mouths, throwing floods of water over him. They struck their jaws together so close to his ears as almost to stun him; and he, every moment, expected to be dragged out of the boat and devoured by them. He held in his hand a large club, which he used so efficaciously, as to beat them off: he then hastened towards the shore, as the only means of preservation left. Here the water was shallow; and his ferocious opponents, some of which were twelve feet in length, returned into deeper water. After this, as Mr. Bartram was stepping out of his canoe, an alligator rushed up to him, near his feet, and, with its head and shoulders out of the water, lay there for some time. Mr. Bartram ran for his gun, and, having a heavy charge in it, he shot the animal in the head and killed him. While Mr. Bartram was employed in cleansing some fish for his supper, he raised his head, and beheld, through the clear water, another of these animals of large size, moving slowly towards him; and he stepped back, at the instant the beast was preparing to spring upon him. This excessive boldness gave him great uneasiness, as he feared he should be obliged to keep on watch through the whole night. He had made the best preparation, in his power, for passing the night, when he was roused by a tumultuous noise, which seemed to come from the harbour. On going to the water's edge he beheld a scene so astonishing, that it was some time before he could credit the evidence even of his own senses. The river, though of great width, appeared, from shore to shore, to be almost a solid bank of fish. These were of various species, and were pushing along the river, towards the little lake, pursued by alligators in such incredible numbers, and so close together, that, had the animals been harmless, Mr. Bartram imagined it might have been possible to have walked across the water upon their heads. During this extraordinary passage, thousands of fish were caught and swallowed by them. The horrid noise of their closing