The Headwaters of the Paraguay loi 



white blossoms on a much larger tree. In a lagoon 

 bordered by the taquara bamboo a school of big otters 

 were playing ; when they came to the surface, they opened 

 their mouths like seals, and made a loud hissing noise. 

 The crested screamers, dark gray and as large as tur- 

 keys, perched on the very topmost branches of the tallest 

 trees. Hyacinth macaws screamed harshly as they flew 

 across the river. Among the trees was the guan, another 

 peculiar bird as big as a big grouse, and with certain 

 habits of the wood-grouse, but not akin to any northern 

 game-bird. The windpipe of the male is very long, ex- 

 tending down to the end of the breast-bone, and the 

 bird utters queer guttural screams. A dead cayman 

 floated down-stream, with a black vulture devouring it. 

 Capybaras stood or squatted on the banks; sometimes 

 they stared stupidly at us; sometimes they plunged into 

 the river at our approach. At long intervals we passed 

 little clearings. In each stood a house of palm-logs, with 

 steeply pitched roof of palm thatch; and near by were 

 patches of corn and mandioc. The dusky owner, and 

 perhaps his family, came out on the bank to watch us 

 as we passed. It was a hot day — the thermometer on 

 the deck in the shade stood at nearly 100 degrees Fahren- 

 heit. Biting flies came aboard even when we were in 

 midstream. 



Next day we were ascending the Cuyaba River. It 

 had begun raining in the night, and the heavy downpour 

 continued throughout the forenoon. In the morning we 

 halted at a big cattle-ranch to get fresh milk and beef. 

 There were various houses, sheds, and corrals near the 

 river's edge, and fifty or sixty milch cows were gathered 



