448 



THE AMERICAN MUSEUM JOURNAL 



closed a typical method of discovery. 

 The creature looked like a toad and 

 jumped like a toad, so he called him a 

 toad. But my preamble threatens to be 

 longer than my little story. 



During twenty-two annual cruises on 

 the Gulf coast of Florida, I have ex- 

 ploded a few local myths regarding 

 monsters of fabulous ferocity and un- 

 known creatures which proved to be 

 well known to scientists. My pursuit 

 of the manatee was vain for so long 

 that my attitude ' became that of the 

 countryman toward the giraffe, "There 

 ain't no sich animile," but I finally 

 found the sea cow, some scores of him, 

 or her, and made the acquaintance of 

 their families, capturing specimens 

 ranging from two hundred to two thou- 

 sand pounds in weight and finally land- 

 ing a couple of them alive in the New 

 York Aquarium. 



It was the ninth year of my hunting 

 and cruising in Florida when I discov- 

 ered a guide who could have qualified 

 as of that western type known as "half 

 horse and half alligator." We were in 

 the Big Cypress, traveling light, relying 

 upon the ground for our bed and a 

 tropical thicket for our tent. We car- 

 ried corn meal, coffee, and salt and my 

 rifle added venison, wild turkey, and 

 alligator to our bill of fare. 



Our first camp was a dry one and I 

 was dying of thirst, but my guide was 

 cheerful, saying, "Plenty of water, just 

 find an alligator hole," which we soon 

 did, but the owner was at home and his 

 hole a close fit for him. We worried 

 him with sticks until he came outside, 

 when I shot him, but as we drank our 

 coffee I tried to think of pleasanter 

 subjects. 



I was a crank on the subject of wild 

 life photography, an industry in which 

 I have reason to think I was a pioneer, 

 and my guide had promised to show me 

 more alligators than I could "shake a 

 stick at." He fulfilled his promise the 

 next day when, through an opening in 

 the jungle, I looked upon a pond a hun- 



dred yards in diameter, the surface of 

 which was almost literally covered with 

 the reptiles whose eyes were all turned 

 upon me. After fixing and focusing I 

 drew the slide of the camera and, tak- 

 ing the bulb between my teeth, sent a 

 bullet through the brain of the nearest 

 alligator, pressing the bulb as he threw 

 himself half out of water. The prints 

 from this plate show the wounded rep- 

 tile partly in the air and seventy-three 

 live alligators on the surface of the 

 water. 



That night as we lay on the ground 

 where the smoke from the camp fire, 

 drifting over us, made a barrage against 

 the mosquitoes. Hall told me of strange 

 monsters he had seen, which were like 

 alligators but were not alligators. They 

 had pointed jaws, long tusks, w^ere 

 larger and livelier, and were not black 

 like 'gators. He had seen them farther 

 from shore than alligators were ever 

 met and he was sure he could find them 

 again. 



We planned to go in search of the 

 creatu-res the following year, but it was 

 two years before we met and then he 

 bad just taken Dr. Veile on the cruise 

 which we had planned. But that was 

 as near being a discoverer as I ever ex- 

 pected to get, so I went on the hunt 

 with Hall just as we had proposed two 

 years before. 



One night we anchored a mile or two 

 off Madeira Hammock in Barnes 

 Sound, and in the early morning one 

 of the creatures we were seeking was 

 seen swimming near the "Sunrise," my 

 schooner. Hall and I chased it in a 

 skiff until he was worn out while the 

 quarry was still fresh. I got one shot 

 with the harpoon, but it was a case of 

 projectile versus armor and the latter 

 won. 



In the days that followed, my son 

 Julian and I, with guide and boatman, 

 pursued the reptiles in skiffs, through 

 narrow bayous, over wide waters and 

 up creeks so overhung with rank vege- 

 tation and tangled vinos that we could 



