A Thousand-Mile Walk 
three dogs. I was viciously attacked by the lat- 
ter, who undertook to undress me with their 
teeth. I was nearly dragged down backward, 
but escaped unbitten. Liver pie, mixed with 
sweet potatoes and fat duff, was set before me, 
and after I had finished a moderate portion, 
one of the men, turning to his companion, re- 
marked: “Wall, I guess that man quit eatin’ 
*cause he had nothin’ more to eat. I’ll get him 
more potato.” 
Arrived at a place on the margin of a stag- 
nant pool where an alligator had been rolling 
and sunning himself. “See,” said a man who 
lived here, “see, what a track that is! He must 
have been a mighty big fellow. Alligators wal- 
low like hogs and like to lie in the sun. I’d like 
a shot at that fellow.”’ Here followed a long re- 
cital of bloody combats with the scaly enemy, 
in many of which he had, of course, taken an 
important part. Alligators are said to be ex- 
tremely fond of negroes and dogs, and natu- 
rally the dogs and negroes are afraid of them. : 
Another man that I met to-day pointed to a 
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