A JAGUAR-HUNT ON THE TAQUARY 67 



the huge ranch we were about to visit, and hauled up 

 alongside the bank for the night. There was a landing- 

 place, and sheds and corrals. Several of the peons or 

 gauchos had come to meet us. After dark they kindled 

 fires, and sat beside them singing songs in a strange minor 

 key and strumming guitars. The red firelight flickered 

 over their wild figures as they squatted away from the 

 blaze, where the light and the shadow met. It was still 

 and hot. There were mosquitoes, of course, and other 

 insects of all kinds swarmed round every light; but the 

 steamboat was comfortable, and we passed a pleasant night. 



At sunrise we were off for the "fazenda," the ranch of 

 M. de Barros. The baggage went in an ox-cart — which 

 had to make two trips, so that all of my belongings reached 

 the ranch a day later than I did. We rode small, tough 

 ranch horses. The distance was some twenty miles. The 

 whole country was marsh, varied by stretches of higher 

 ground; and, although these stretches rose only three or 

 four feet above the marsh, they were covered with thick 

 jungle, largely palmetto scrub, or else with open palm for- 

 est. For three or four miles we splashed through the 

 marsh, now and then crossing boggy pools where the little 

 horses labored hard not to mire down. Our dusky guide 

 was clad in a shirt, trousers, and fringed leather apron, and 

 wore spurs on his bare feet; he had a rope for a bridle, 

 and two or three toes of each foot were thrust into little 

 iron stirrups. 



The pools in the marsh were drying. They were filled 

 with fish, most of them dead or dying; and the birds had 

 gathered to the banquet. The most notable dinner guests 

 were the great jabiru storks; the stately creatures dotted 



