The Delta of the Parana 175 



our captain turned the prow to a narrow creek into 

 which we ran, and where we presently came to a rude 

 dock and a house perched high on piles. Here we 

 made fast, and here we were to stay for the night, for to 

 navigate these waters in the darkness is dangerous. 

 We clambered out upon the dock and up a rickety flight 

 of stairs, and found that we were in a country-store 

 where everything imaginable was for sale and where 

 everything potable from Quilmes beer to Italian 

 vermouth and Scotch whiskey could be purchased. 

 Perched on the edge of a swamp, the ground beneath the 

 building was so wet that botanizing was quickly given 

 up as certain to involve the risk of being buried in the 

 quagmire. We wondered how any human being could 

 have chosen such a place as a likely spot upon which to 

 carry on trade. But during the evening boats came and 

 went and customers slipped in from the starlit water 

 with lanterns at the prows of their craft and gathered 

 at the bar to drink, or made their purchases and then 

 silently rowed off into the darkness as they had come. 

 We dined on board and had occasion to compliment 

 the cook upon the excellent meal which he served. We 

 smoked our cigars upon deck; watched the brilliant 

 reflections of the full-orbed planets in the mirror of the 

 stream ; told tales both grave and gay ; and then turned 

 in. How still it was! The only sound was that of the 

 toads in the marsh. In the United States we welcome 

 the sound of the "frogs" in the meadows as a harbin- 

 ger of the springtime. Our "frogs, ' to be exact, are 

 toads. The note of Bufo americanus, the common toad 

 of New England and the Middle States, in the mating- 

 season is a succession of chirps, quickly succeeding each 

 other "peep-peep-peep' -or a trilling note in a high 

 key; the note of the Argentine toad exactly resembles 



