Great Lake, in Craven county. North Carolina, was the haunt of the largest alligator I ever saw 

 in a wild state, and he may still be enjoying his ripe old age there in spite of many attempts to cap- 

 ture him 



Alligators I Have Known 



By H. H. B R I M L E Y 



Curator of the North Carolina State Museum 



TO ONE who has associated with 

 alligators on more or less 

 friendly terms for any length of 

 time, certain incidents connected with 

 the association stand out prominently. 

 And the record of a few of these may 

 convey possibly a better idea of the ani- 

 mal in its native hannts than more gen- 

 eral statements would. Among those I 

 have known, perhaps the strongest men- 

 tal impression was made by "Grandpa," 

 the largest alligator I ever saw in a wild 

 state. "And how large was he?" you 

 ask. I do not know, as he is still en- 

 joying, to the best of my knowledge, his 

 ripe old age in Great Lake, Craven 

 County, North Carolina. 



The first time I saw "Grandpa," I 

 had followed a seven or eight-footer in 

 shore, shooting at its head — although 

 unsuccessfully as to result — every time 

 it came to the surface. While it slowly 

 and unconcernedly made its way into a 

 small indentation of the wooded shores, 

 there showed up the head of tlie largest 



alligator I have ever seen, or ever hope 

 to see— the "Old He One" I had so 

 long wanted for our North Carolina 

 Museum. We followed him into the 

 little bay. I shot at something that in 

 the shadows loomed up like the head of 

 a sixteen-footer (but which later proved 

 to be a cypress root), there was a flurry 

 of water, a huge, scaly back showed for 

 a moment in the shallows — and that 

 was the last I saw of "Grandpa" that 

 summer. 



He was — and I hope still is — a wise 

 old bird. In subsequent years he robbed 

 my nets that were set for fish speci- 

 mens, tearing them up scandalously. I 

 once set for a neighbor a hundred yard 

 net for "eating" fish. This, "Grandpa" 

 took off the cork line for two thirds of 

 its length, and I saw his great, rugged 

 head moving slowly away out in the 

 lake, while I was examining the torn-up 

 not. 



I have set baited lines for him, with 

 a whole cormorant lashed on the big 



481 



