8o Through the Brazilian Wilderness 



were led in leashes by the two trailers. One was a white 

 bitch, the other, the best one we had, was a gelded black 

 dog. They were lean, half-starved creatures with prick 

 ears and a look of furtive wildness. 



As our shabby little horses shuffled away from the 

 ranch-house the stars were brilliant and the Southern 

 Cross hung well up in the heavens, tilted to the right. 

 The landscape was spectral in the light of the waning 

 moon. At the first shallow ford, as horses and dogs 

 splashed across, an alligator, the jacare-tinga, some five 

 feet long, floated unconcernedly among the splashing 

 hoofs and paws; evidently at night it did not fear us. 

 Hour after hour we shogged along. Then the night grew 

 ghostly with the first dim gray of the dawn. The sky 

 had become overcast. The sun rose red and angry 

 through broken clouds; his disk flamed behind the tall, 

 slender columns of the palms, and lit the waste fields of 

 papyrus. The black monkeys howled mournfully. The 

 birds awoke. Macaws, parrots, parakeets screamed at us 

 and chattered at us as we rode by. Ibis called with wail- 

 ing voices, and the plovers shrieked as they wheeled in 

 the air. We waded across bayous and ponds, where 

 white lilies floated on the water and thronging lilac- 

 flowers splashed the green marsh with color. 



At last, on the edge of a patch of jungle, in wet 

 ground, we came on fresh jaguar tracks. Both the 

 jaguar hounds challenged the sign. They were un- 

 leashed and galloped along the trail, while the other dogs 

 noisily accompanied them. The hunt led right through 

 the marsh. Evidently the jaguar had not the least dis- 

 taste for water. Probably it had been hunting for capy- 



