The Headwaters of the Paraguay 105 



stood very many miles apart. One of these little houses 

 stood on an old Indian mound, exactly like the mounds 

 which form the only hillocks along the lower Mississippi, 

 and which are also of Indian origin. These occasional 

 Indian mounds, made ages ago, are the highest bits of 

 ground in the immense swamps of the upper Paraguay 

 region. There are still Indian tribes in this neighbor- 

 hood. We passed an Indian fishing village on the edge 

 of the river, with huts, scaffoldings for drying the fish, 

 hammocks, and rude tables. They cultivated patches of 

 bananas and sugar-cane. Out in a shallow place in the 

 river was a scaffolding on which the Indians stood to 

 spear fish. The Indians were friendly, peaceable souls, 

 for the most part dressed like the poorer classes among 

 the Brazilians. 



Next morning there was to have been a great rodeo 

 or round-up, and we determined to have a hunt first, as 

 there were still several kinds of beasts of the chase, 

 notably tapirs and peccaries, of which the naturalists 

 desired specimens. Dom Joao, our host, and his son 

 accompanied us. Theirs is a noteworthy family. Born 

 in Matto Grosso, in the tropics, our host had the look of 

 a northerner and, although a grandfather, he possessed 

 an abounding vigor and energy such as very few men 

 of any climate or surroundings do possess. All of his 

 sons are doing well. The son who was with us was a 

 stalwart, powerful man, a pleasant companion, an able 

 public servant, a finished horseman, and a skilled hunter. 

 He carried a sharp spear, not a rifle, for in Matto Grosso 

 it is the custom in hunting the jaguar for riflemen and 

 spearmen to go in at him together when he turns at 



