CHAPTER XVII
IN THE CIRCLE OF ’GATORS!
AGAIN the December day was warm and bright, as the little launch glidedover Lake Okeechobee.
The boat that had lately been used by Sim and his crew was now beingtowed astern. In it were four of the Florida men, the other two beingin the launch itself. All of these Florida men were armed with theirown rifles. Thus, with the Tremaine party itself, the host consideredthe expedition too strong to be in danger from any lurking criminalswho led a fugitive existence in the Everglades.
By the time the launch and its tow reached the lower end of LakeOkeechobee it was a little past noon. Tremaine planned that they wouldrove through the Everglades until about four o’clock, then havingenough daylight to return to the lake. The last of the run homewardcould be safely made with the light furnished by the launch’s brightrunning lights.
As they entered the black waters of this great swamp country JoeDawson shut off most of the speed. At the same time the rowboat wascast off, for the men in that craft could now row as fast as theexpedition would move.
“All talking must be done in low tones,” warned Henry Tremaine. “Noiseoften chases the ’gators under water. We want to see if we can’t bagtwo or three fine ones in the time we have left to us.”
For an hour launch and rowboat cruised about without even a sight ofone of the much-sought alligators.
“I’m afraid it’s going to be a poor day’s sport,” muttered Tremaine,shaking his head.
“It’s never a po’ day’s sport, suh, until we get back stumped,”rejoined Jeff. “And we’re right in the very paht of the Evergladeswhere the best shooting has been found this yeah, suh.”
Mrs. Tremaine settled back against cushions, turning the pages of anovel. _She_ wasn’t going to betray any excitement until big game gotright in front of the rifles.
Oliver Dixon forgot to keep a very sharp lookout. Ida Silsbee wasseated at his right hand. The young man was devoting all his energiesto making himself as pleasant as possible.
“I must do all I can, in every way, to hasten the day when I canpropose to her,” the young man was thinking. “I shan’t be easy untilthis girl is Mrs. Dixon. Her fortune is too large a one for me to miss.Such chances don’t fall in my way every week.”
He was glad, too, that Ida was not paying very much heed to Halstead.But Tom had no time for that. Between guiding the launch and keepinga sportsman’s lookout, the young skipper was fully occupied. Jeff satbeside him, while Mr. Tremaine, rifle in hand, stood behind them muchof the time, keeping a sharp eye on the water.
“There you are, sir,” whispered sharp-eyed Halstead, jogging Mr.Tremaine’s knee with his thrust-back left hand. “Just as far ahead asyou can see, sir. Just beyond that point of land.”
“Jove! you’ve got sharp vision,” muttered Tremaine. “Oh, now I see it.Just the snout above water.”
Joe, at a signal from his chum, shut off the speed, the launch slowlydrifting while the rowboat closed in behind.
Now the alligator’s head showed. From the course the brute was taking,it was heading for the nearest island. Presently its head and frontlegs appeared on the shore, the dim light glistening on the wet scales.
“Only a medium-sized fellow,” whispered Tremaine, sighting. “But agood deal better than _no_ ’gator.”
Oliver Dixon caught enough of the spirit of the thing to crouch behindhis host.
Bang! rang out Tremaine’s rifle. It was a hit, but the shot struckunder the shoulder, not disabling the alligator. With an angry floppingof its tail the beast turned to take to deeper water.
Bang! came from Dixon’s rifle. This bullet struck against the ’gator’sjaw. Bang! sounded Tremaine’s second shot. This landed through thesofter skin under the animal’s nearer eye.
“Close in,” commanded the host, eagerly. “We’ll get that chap allright, now.”
In its death agonies, yet possessing prodigious strength still, the’gator flopped off into deeper water, diving.
“He’ll soon come to the surface,” predicted Jeff Randolph, coolly.“Better get in closer, Cap’n.”
The launch was still going ahead, slowly, when the alligator came up,its head almost under the gunwale. The reptile’s broad mouth opened,then the teeth snapped together, viciously.
Henry Tremaine leaned over the gunwale, and fired a shot that went inthrough an eye, penetrating the reptile’s brain.
“Back off a bit, Cap’n,” advised Jeff. “We-all will soon have him.”
Hardly a minute passed before the alligator, its last struggle finishedunder water, rose and lay on its back motionless.
“A higher type of animal, with a more vital brain, would have beenkilled quicker,” observed Henry Tremaine, running a cleaning rod downhis rifle barrel.
The four men following in the rowboat now lashed one end of a linearound the dead ’gator, the other end being secured at the stern of thelaunch.
“How many of these things can we tow?” asked Mrs. Tremaine.
“I don’t know, my dear, until I see how many we can get,” smiled herhusband. “I’d attempt to tow a long string of ’gators before I’dconsent to leave any of our game behind.”
“Fortunately we’ve food enough aboard so that we don’t need to mind,much, if we have to spend most of the night towing dead alligatorshome,” replied Mrs. Tremaine.
“Now, Cap’n,” advised Jeff Randolph, “yo’ may as well put on as muchspeed as yo’ can handle. It’ll be some time befo’ we’re likely to findany more ’gators above water within sound of the shots that have justbeen fired.”
For twenty minutes more the launch cruised along with no sign of thegame of the Everglades. In places the water courses proved barely wideenough to permit the passage of the boat. Presently they caught sightof a stretch of open water at least a third of a mile in diameter.
“Oh, _say_! Look ovah there!” whispered Jeff, excitedly, pointing toland at the eastward.
“Over there,” well up on a slope, lay an alligator as huge as the onethat Halstead had shot on a former occasion. The great reptile seemedasleep. It had evidently climbed high up from the water in order tocatch the warmth of whatever sunlight might filter through the tall,moss-encumbered trees.
In great excitement Tremaine turned, holding up his hand as a signto the occupants of the rowboat to halt. Then he bent over the youngskipper, whispering hoarsely:
“Not too fast or too near. Slow, and no noise.”
Halstead, turning his hand, repeated the order to Joe Dawson by signal.The launch almost immediately fell off to a speed that was barely morethan drifting.
“We mustn’t miss that fine fellow,” exclaimed Tremaine, throbbing withall the ardor of the sportsman. “Halstead, I think that fellow must bebigger than the one you bagged. He’s an old-timer!”
The ladies entered into the general excitement. They rose, remainingstanding, though Ida Silsbee, who did not enjoy the report of a gunclose to her ear, slowly tiptoed toward the stern.
“My shot first!” spoke up Tremaine, eagerly. Then he added:
“Unless you want the chance, Dixon?”
“No, thank you,” smiled the young man, carelessly. “I’ll shoot if youmiss, but I hope you won’t.”
“But, really, if you want——” urged Tremaine, considerately.
“I assure you again that I don’t want it,” replied the younger man,still smiling. “To me a good day’s sport is in seeing a big bag. Idon’t care who does the shooting.”
“Halstead——”
“I’m going to do my shooting with the steering wheel,” laughed Tom,quietly. “After my fine luck the other day I’m not going to risk myreputation again.”
So Tremaine had his heart’s real wish—the first shot at the dozingalligator.
Closer in crept the boat, while the unsuspecting reptile slumbered on.Thrice Henry Tremaine sighted, then lowered his rifle, preferring towait for a nearer shot.
The two Florida men looked on with polite enoug
h interest, though theydid not offer to reach for their rifles. Alligator-killing was an oldstory to them.
“Now, I reckon you’re close enough, sir,” whispered Jeff Randolph.“Sometimes these ole ’gators wake and get into the water powahfulquick.”
Again Tremaine sighted. He was too old a hunter to risk spoiling all bytoo long a sighting. He aimed for a spot just back of the fore shoulder.
Bang! Hardly had the flash left the muzzle when the huge ’gatorthrashed, a red spot showing back of the fore shoulder. Then theslumbering animal turned with incredible rapidity, making for the water.
Bang! bang! Tremaine fired twice, as rapidly as he could, each shotgoing home. The wounded ’gator now floundered weakly close to thewater’s edge.
“One more shot and I’ve got him!” breathed Tremaine, tensely. Thatfourth shot woke the echoes, and the alligator crouched low, too spentto take to the water.
“Give him a minute or two. Then we’ll go and get him,” declaredTremaine, turning to sign to the men in the rowboat that they couldapproach now.
“There goes Mr. ’Gator,” reported Jeff, as a final shudder ran throughthe bulky frame of the big reptile.
“Steam ahead, boys! Put in and get him,” directed Tremaine.
No one was looking at Ida Silsbee, just at that moment. She, for somereason, had risen on her tip-toes on the little decked over space aft.
As Joe turned on the speed with a throb, the girl tottered. There wasnothing at which to catch. Uttering a frightened shriek, Ida Silsbeefell over backward into the water.
Joe Dawson heard that cry. Like a flash he shut off the speed. Then,his face white, he sprang and dived where the waters had closed overthe girl.
There was another shriek, this time from Mrs. Tremaine, as she caughtsight of an alligator snout rising above the water not fifty yards away.
Tom Halstead saw that snout on the water. In another twinkling he wasover the side.
Oliver Dixon sprang to plunge in, also, but Mr. Tremaine caught him bythe arm, crying huskily:
“No, no, Dixon! Two over are enough. And there’s a second ’gator, athird!”
Three of the brutes were close at hand, all nosing along towards thesepeople at their mercy in the water.
Up shot Joe’s head above the black waters. He gripped Ida Silsbee, too,for Joe’s dive had carried him straight to her side.
“Look out for the ’gators!” shrieked Mrs. Tremaine, ghastly with terror.
The two Florida men had snatched up their rifles, prepared to fire. Mr.Tremaine already had his.
Tom Halstead came to the surface to find himself between Joe and thenearest of the water enemies.
“Get her to the boat, Joe. I’ll do the best I can to take up a ’gator’sattention,” shouted Tom desperately. He had no plan of attack. He wasprepared to sacrifice himself to injury or mangling, if that would doany good.
“Good heaven, suh! We kain’t shoot without running the risk o’ hittingthem that’s in the water,” cried one of the Florida men, desperately.
For now the swimmers were at the center of a circle bounded by thethree alligators, while both boats were outside the dangerous area. Tofire at any of the alligators, and miss, would be to take a chance ofhitting one of the three human beings in the water.
The Motor Boat Club in Florida; or, Laying the Ghost of Alligator Swamp Page 17
