The gig was purely playing a tune. It blistered John’s hands and like to beat his brains out. How come it wabbling so, the ’gator had done grabbed the gig handle in his mouth. So, with him rolling, it made right hard holding. If a ’gator once shuts down on you, that’s his trick—he goes to rolling. If he grabs your arm in the water, say, he goes to rolling. It’s like to twist your arm right out of the shoulder.

Now, a ’gator will bite. Don’t never let nobody tell you a alligator won’t bite. I’ve knowed several fellers to get bit to hurt ’em. Nub-footed Turner—a twenty-foot ’gator bit his foot off. But generally speaking, a ’gator’ll go his way if you’ll go yours. But he don’t like to be fooled up with. He most particklerly don’t like nobody monkeying around his cave.

I remember one time there was three of us white men and a nigger working on the grove on the south side of Orange Lake. We knocks off for dinner and we goes in swimming, the way God made us. Gundy White, that was the nigger. Old Gundy.

The nigger says, “White men, what about lettin’ me come in where you-all’s at? Does you keer? If I was to go in and come out east a ways, I’d get powerful muddied.”

’Twasn’t muddy where we was. You know the current in Orange Lake is always going east.

We says, “You wait for us to come out.”

So, when we comes out, Gundy goes in. He was just fixing to come out, about fifteen feet from shore. Bless Katy, if a big old alligator don’t come up to him and catch him by the shoulder. Nothing serious—just turned him around and led him out about a hundred yards and turned him loose.

Gundy starts swimming back for shore, his eyes a-popping. He knowed good and well a ’gator’ll pass up a dog any day to catch a nigger. The alligator swims back with him, head for head. When he gets to the same place, the ’gator catches him and leads him out again. He done it three-four times. It come to me we’d done been swimming over a ’gator cave. Three big white bodies was too much for the ’gator to bother. But let the one dark body go in alone, and the ’gator was man enough to turn him.

So I calls to Gundy, “Don’t try to come out there! Come on out east a ways!”

He changes his course—and you know the alligator don’t bother him a mite? Just sticks his head out and watches him. Just as good as to say, “You go do your landing somewheres else. You got you no business here.”

That old nigger has ’gator sign on his shoulder to this day. It looks just like buckshot had tore out some little pieces.