strong and hungry Jaguar had got hold of him. It had never before entered into the Alligator's head that anybody would want to eat him, but he did not stop to think about this, but immediately went to work to defend himself with all his might. He lashed his great tail around, he snapped his mighty jaws at his enemy, and he made the dust fly generally. But it all seemed of little use. The Jaguar had fixed his teeth in a certain soft place in his chest, under his foreleg, and there he hung on like grim death. The Alligator could not get at him with his tail, nor could he turn his head around so as to get a good bite.
The Alligator had been in a hard case all his life, but he really thought that this surprising conduct of the Jaguar was something worse than anything he had ever been called upon to bear.
"Does he really think, I wonder," said the Alligator to himself, "that he is going to have me for his supper?"
It certainly looked very much as if Mr. Jaguar had that idea, and as if he would be able to carry out his intention, for he was so charmed at having discovered the soft place of which he had so often been told that he resolved never to let go until his victim was dead; and in the midst of the struggle he could not but regret that he had never thought of hunting Alligators before.
As it may well be imagined, the Alligator soon began to be very tired of this sort of thing. He could do nothing at all to damage his antagonist, and the Jaguar hurt him, keeping his teeth jammed into the very tenderest spot in his whole body. So he came to the conclusion that, if he could do nothing else, he would go home. If the Jaguar chose to follow him, he could not help it, of course. So, gradually, he pulled himself, Jaguar and all, down to the river, and, as the banks sloped quite suddenly at this place, he soon plunged into deep water, with his blood-thirsty enemy still hanging fiercely to him.
