There, stretched out stiff and motionless, he saw the body of a huge alligator.

It was dead--dead as a mummy; there was no doubt of that; and without waiting to examine it further, Mark laid down his rifle and went to the river for water.
He brought three hatfuls, and dashed them, one after another, in the boy's face before the latter showed any signs of consciousness.

Then the closed eyes were slowly opened, and fixed for an instant upon Mark, with the same look of horror that he had first seen in them, and the boy tried to rise to his feet, but fell back with a moan of pain.
Mark had already seen that the boy's right foot was terribly mangled and covered with blood, and he went quickly for more water with which to bathe it.

After he had washed off the blood, and bound the wounded foot as well as he could with his handkerchief and one of his shirt sleeves torn into strips, he found that the boy had again opened his eyes, and seemed to have fully recovered his consciousness.
"Do you feel better ?" asked Mark.
"Yes," answered the boy.

"I can sit up now if you will help me." Mark helped him into a sitting position, with his back against the tree to which he had clung when the alligator tried to drag him into the water.