80 THROUGH THE BRAZILIAN WILDERNESS 



The only two dogs we could trust were the two borrowed 

 jaguar hounds. This was the black dog's day. About ten 

 in the morning we came to a long, deep, winding bayou. 

 On the opposite bank stood a capybara, looking like a 

 blunt-nosed pig, its wet hide shining black. I killed it, 

 and it slid into the water. Then I found that the bayou 

 extended for a mile or two in each direction, and the two 

 hunter-guides said they did not wish to swim across for 

 fear of the piranhas. Just at this moment we came across 

 fresh jaguar tracks. It was hot, we had been travelling 

 for five hours, and the dogs were much exhausted. The 

 black hound in particular was nearly done up, for he had 

 been led in a leash by one of the horsemen. He lay flat 

 on the ground, panting, unable to catch the scent. Kermit 

 threw water over him, and when he was thoroughly drenched 

 and freshened, thrust his nose into the jaguar's footprints. 

 The game old hound at once and eagerly responded. As he 

 snuffed the scent he challenged loudly, while still lying 

 down. Then he staggered to his feet and started on the 

 trail, going stronger with every leap. Evidently the big 

 cat was not far distant. Soon we found where it had 

 swum across the bayou. Piranhas or no piranhas, we now 

 intended to get across; and we tried to force our horses in 

 at what seemed a likely spot. The matted growth of water- 

 plants, with their leathery, slippery stems, formed an un- 

 pleasant barrier, as the water was swimming-deep for the 

 horses. The latter were very unwilling to attempt the pas- 

 sage. Kermit finally forced his horse through the tangled 

 mass, swimming, plunging, and struggling. He left a lane 

 of clear water, through which we swam after him. The 

 dogs splashed and swam behind us. On the other bank 



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