ON THE UPPER ST. JOHN’S. 1381 
impossible as it was for him to enter fully 
into the spirit of a man who wanted to look 
at birds, but not to kill them. I think he 
had never before seen a customer of that 
breed. First he rowed me up the “ creek,” 
under promise to show me alligators, moc- 
casins, and no lack of birds, including the 
especially desired purple gallinule. The 
snakes were somehow missing (a loss not 
irreparable), and so were the purple galli- 
nules; for them, the boy thought, it was 
still rather early in the season, although he 
had killed one a few days before, and for 
proof had brought me a wing. But as we 
were skirting along the shore I suddenly 
called “ Hist!” An alligator lay on the 
bank just before us. The boy turned his 
head, and instantly was all excitement. It 
was a big fellow, he said,—one of three 
big ones that inhabited the creek. He would 
get him this time. “Are you sure?” I 
asked. “Oh yes, I’ll blow the top of his 
head off.’ He was loaded for gallinules, 
and I, being no sportsman, and never hav- 
ing seen an alligator before, was some 
shades less confident. But it was his game, 
and I left him to his way. He pulled the 
