“Maybe you’d like to see some fire-hunting,” said the captain.  “There are ’gators in these rivers, and there’s time before the moon rises to find one or two.  If you don’t want one killed I’ll fire a blank cartridge at him, unless you’d like to shine the eyes of one yourself.”

“I don’t think I’ll try any fire-hunting, but I should like to see it done,” said Mr. Barstow.

Dick was proud of his sculling, and at his request it was arranged that he should scull the skiff for the captain, while Ned was to pole the little motor-boat, in which his father and sister would go with him.  Before they had gone far Dick found that he had overestimated his strength, and that handling the heavy sculling oar was too much for him.  Mr. Barstow offered to pole the motor-boat, and Ned took Dick’s place at the oar in the skiff, where Dick remained as a passenger.  They entered Broad River and Ned sculled slowly along the bank, while the beam of light from the lantern, which was bound to the captain’s forehead, played along the surface of the water under the mangroves that overhung the banks and sometimes swept the banks above the water.  In the shallow places mullet leaped wildly as the rays of the bull’s-eye lantern fell on them, while porpoises sniffed and tarpon splashed in their light.  Sculling was hard work for Ned, who had none of the easy and graceful swing with which Dick threw his weight on a sculling oar, a skill which he had acquired during his life on the sponger.  Several times the oar jumped out of the scull hole in the skiff, and once Ned nearly went overboard.  But a little extra noise didn’t much disturb wild creatures that were fascinated by the light; and on the land ’coons sat motionless, two dots of greenish light told of a hypnotized wildcat, and when all on the skiff saw the light reflected from two big, round eyes, while the captain held the beam from the lantern steadily upon them, Dick whispered: 

“What is it?”

“A big buck.  Wish I didn’t have a blank cartridge in the rifle,” replied the captain.

They cruised for half a mile up Broad River, then back to its mouth against a tide that made the captain take the oars of the skiff, to which the painter of the motor-boat was then fastened.  Then Ned sculled to the mouth of Rodgers River, where, upon a little beach, the captain first saw the gleam for which he had been looking.  Then for a few minutes Dick took the oar and slowly and more slowly sculled toward those little round stars.  Soon the light from the bull’s-eye on the captain’s forehead showed the head and body of the reptile, which remained as motionless as if cast in bronze, while Dick held the skiff in place that the launch might come near.  With the roar of the blank cartridge came the scream of a girl and the quick scrambling of the alligator into the water.  Every one wanted to continue the hunt, but the rising of the moon put a stop to the sport.

[Illustration:  “THE LIGHT FROM THE BULL’S EYE SHOWED THE HEAD AND BODY OF THE REPTILE”]