preparations for the night. Feeling somewhat nervous about large
alligators, I covered myself with a piece of painted canvas, which
was stiff and strong, and placed the little revolver, my only weapon,
under my blanket.

As I fully realized the novelty of my strange position in this desolate
region, it was some time before I could compose myself and sleep. It was
a night of dreams. Sounds indistinct but numerous troubled my brain,
until I was fully roused to wakefulness by horrible visions and doleful
cries. The chuck-will's-widow, which in the south supplies the place of
our whippoorwill, repeated his oft-told tale of "chuck-will's-widow,
chuck-will's-widow," with untiring earnestness. The owls hooted wildly,
with a chorus of cries from animals and reptiles not recognizable by me,
excepting the snarling voices of the coons fighting in the forest. These
last were old acquaintances, however, as they frequently gathered round
my camp at night to pick up the remains of supper.

While I listened, there rose a cry so hideous in its character and so
belligerent in its tone, that I trembled with fear upon my palm-leaf
mattress. It resembled the bellowing of an infuriated bull, but was
louder and more penetrating in its effect. The proximity of this animal
was indeed unpleasant, for he had planted himself on the river's edge,
near the little bluff upon which my camp had been constructed. The loud
roar was answered by a similar bellow from the other side of the river,
and for a long time did these two male alligators keep up their
challenging cries, without coming to combat. Numerous wood-mice attacked
my provision-basket, and even worked their way through the leaves of my
palmetto mattress.

Thus with an endless variety of annoyances the night wore wearily away,
but the light of the rising sun did not penetrate the thick fog which
enveloped the river until after eight o'clock, when I embarked for a
second day's journey upon the stream, which had now attained a width of
five or six rods. Rafts of logs blocked the river as I approached the
settlement of Trader's Hill, and upon a most insecure footing the canoe
was dragged over a quarter of a mile of logs, and put into the water on
the lower side of the "jam." Crossing several of these log "jams," which
covered the entire width of the St. Mary's, I became weary of the task,
and, after the last was reached, determined to go into camp until the
next day, when suddenly the voices