"The shot was a good one. I had caught my spur in the stirrup in
dismounting, and stumbled. Otherwise I must have been a dead man. The
bullet pierced the crown of my hat, only missing my skull by an inch or
less. The alarm was given. But no search-party could be mustered, do
you say?--which was prepared to explore the poison swamp--or so
declared my native servants. Valera, however, seized upon this incident
to illustrate his theory that there were those in the island who did
not hesitate to enter the Black Belt popularly supposed to cast up
noxious vapours at dusk of a sort fatal to any traveller.
"That night over our wine we discussed the situation, and he pointed
out to me that now was the hour to test his theory. Orders had
evidently been given for my assassination and the attempt had failed.
"'There will be a meeting,' said Valera, 'to discuss the next move. And
it will take place to-morrow night!'
"I challenged him with a glance and I replied:
"'To-morrow night is a full moon, and if you are agreeable we will make
a secret expedition into the swamp, and endeavour to find the clearing
which you say is there, and which you believe to be the rendezvous of
the conspirators.
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