Wakulla: a story of adventure in FloridaMunroe, Kirk
General
Wakulla: a story of adventure in Florida
Munroe, Kirk
Florida -- Fiction
Frank whined most industriously for five minutes or so, and even
attempted two or three feeble barks, but they were not nearly so
artistic as the whines. Then he stopped, for his quick eye detected
three black objects moving on the water not far from the bank. These
objects were the alligator's two eyes and the end of his snout, which
were all of him that showed, the remainder of his body being completely
submerged. He was looking for that puppy, and thinking how much he
should enjoy it for his supper if he could only locate the whine, and
be able to stop it forever.
Again it sounds, clear and distinct, and the sly old 'gator comes on a
little farther, alert and watchful, but without making so much as a
ripple to betray his presence.
Now the whine sounds fainter and fainter, as though the puppy were
moving away, and finally it ceases altogether.
Mr. Alligator is very much disappointed; and now, noticing the fish for
the first time, concludes that though not nearly so good as puppy, fish
is much better than nothing, and he had better secure it before it
swims away.
He does not use caution now; he has learned that fish must be caught
quickly or not at all, and he goes for it with a rush. The great jaws
open and close with a snap, the fish disappears, and the alligator
thinks he will go back to his cove to listen again for that puppy
whine. As he turns he opens his mouth to clear his teeth of something
that has become entangled between them. Suddenly a tremendous jerk at
his mouth is accompanied by a most disagreeable sensation in his
stomach. He tries to pull away from both the entanglement and the
sensation, but finds himself caught and held fast.
Mark gives a cheer as he jumps up from his uncomfortable position at
the bottom of the ferry-boat, and Frank echoes it as he dashes out of
the bushes and seizes hold of the line.
Now the alligator pulls and the boys pull, and if the line had not been
made fast to the post, the former would certainly have pulled away from
them or dragged them into the river. He lashes the water into foam, and
bellows with rage, while they yell with delight and excitement. The
stout post is shaken, and the Manila line hums like a harp-string.
"It'll hold him!" screams Frank. "He can't get away now. See the reason
for that last six feet of small lines, Mark? They're so he can't bite
the rope; the little lines slip in between his teeth."
The noise of the struggle and the shouts of the boys attracted the
notice of the men on their way home from work at the mill, and they
came running down to the ferry to see what was the matter.
"We were fishing for minnows," explained Mark, "and we've caught a
whale. Take hold here and help us haul him in."
The men caught hold of the rope, and slowly but surely, in spite of his
desperate struggles, the alligator was drawn towards them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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