THE SNAKES 335 



At length, in the light of the rising moon we started 

 on. Against the radiance of the Southern night the 

 trees stood black in silhouette. The sand gave way to 

 a firm, mossy footing over which the mules moved at a 

 more sprightly gait. We were approaching the low- 

 grounds and now and then passed a small lagoon, the 

 waters of which steamed languidly. Not far away the 

 bellowing of a 'gator broke the silence. The sound 

 marked the termination of our journey by mule and we 

 were soon in the flat-bottomed craft cutting across 

 waters to the bayou of the big Moccasin. 



Winding our way through a number of miniature 

 islands covered with rank growth and here and there 

 showing a matted space where an alligator had sprawled 

 in the sunlight, we glided into shallow waters from 

 which stood spectral trees very broad at the base and 

 so suddenly narrowing a little distance from the water 

 as to impart a weird aspect to this aquatic forest. To 

 a considerable height the trunk of each tree shows a 

 thin coating of yellow mud, illustrating the eccentrici- 

 ties of the near-by coffee-colored river as it rises and 

 falls after the heavy rains, "backs up" into the low- 

 grounds or recedes so low at times within its muddy 

 bed that the bayous become firm, dry forests during the 

 summer heat. 



The trees grow closer and as we pass under long 

 streamers of the hanging moss our surroundings become 

 black and uncertain. To attach the acetylene search- 

 light to our bow was the work of a few minutes and 

 a path of brilliant white light pierced the darkness. It 

 is strange that in the bright glare of a lamp of night, 

 creatures exceedingly shy in the day may be approached 

 and captured without difficulty. Frogs that would in- 

 stinctively dive for shelter in the daylight lay staring 



