These same natives had induced Mr. Dalken and his friends to consider a day’s hunting in the alligator swamps just off the Rio Cobra River. The ladies could not possibly take part in this dangerous sport—not so dangerous from the jaws of the alligators as from the dreaded miasma which is continually rising from the hotbeds of typhoid-malarial scums.
All the warnings and beseechings, to say nothing of the threats, from the wives of two of the men proved to be of any avail. They were determined to go!
When it was found that all prayers left the male contingent of the yachting party as hard as flint toward any proposition of giving up the alligator shooting, the ladies suddenly reversed their opinions and did all possible to hasten the men from the yacht.
“They have some trick up their sleeves,” remarked Mr. Ashby smilingly, to his companions.
“You don’t think they plan to accompany us in the yacht, do you?” questioned Mr. Dalken, anxiously. “It would be a great hazard for them.”
“No, not that; but there is no use in asking them what is their plan because they would come back with the counter proposition for us to remain here and find out.”
Hence the men in their oldest clothes with rubber boots to their hips left the yacht. The slimy marshes they would have to wade through would necessitate the discard of any clothing after the hunt ended.
The alligator of the West Indies is half-brother to the crocodile of Africa, though he is not as large as the latter; still, he is large enough to mutilate a man and quickly kill him. Hence the sport is fraught with some danger as well as unpleasant experiences from insects and the malarial localities.
The natives called at the yacht in a large open boat something after the pattern of a northern whaler. Having approved of the attire of the yachtsmen, the guide started the craft for the swamps. At the mouth of the Rio Cobra lay a flat stretch of mud-colored sand with every now and then a patch of bushes, scrub-trees and coarse grass.
“I suppose the reptiles sleep in those watery places, which one can see glistening through the swamp growth,” suggested Mr. Dalken.