THE EVERGLADES 131 



posterous roads to Camp Jackson, a sort of depot 

 of surveyors for the Florida East Coast Railway, 

 and lying on the edge of the Glades. Thence 

 with camp outfit we proceeded afoot for the island, 

 three or four miles away. 



The surface was irregular rock, which, as we 

 proceeded, became covered with water and so 

 slippery that we were constantly sliding into pot 

 holes. In fact the walking consisted mostly in 

 slipping down and getting up again. At length 

 we reached the headwaters of Taylor River and 

 Soar suggested that we keep close together when 

 crossing. Eaton asked why and was told that 

 there might be alligators or crocodiles. He con- 

 temptuously offered to eat the entire saurian sup- 

 ply that might be found in Dade County, and 

 boldly waded in. In midstream, the water to his 

 armpits, there suddenly began a tremendous com- 

 motion and for a minute the surface of the stream 

 was all arms, legs, blankets, and camp equipage, 

 along with the tail and body of a monster alligator. 

 Eaton finally crawled out looking very pale and 

 explained that he had stepped on what he thought 

 was a log. When we finally waded across Soar 

 took the lead and Eaton stuck very close to me. 



