126 Through the Brazilian Wilderness 



greeted by McLean, the head of the ranch, and his as- 

 sistant Ramsey, an old Texan friend. Among the other 

 assistants, all equally cordial, were several Belgians and 

 Frenchmen. The hands were Paraguayans and Brazil- 

 ians, and a few Indians — a hard-bit set, each of whom 

 always goes armed and knows how to use his arms, for 

 there are constant collisions with cattle thieves from 

 across the Bolivian border, and the ranch has to protect 

 itself. These cowhands, vaqtieiros, were of the type with 

 which we were now familiar: dark-skinned, lean, hard- 

 faced men, in slouch-hats, worn shirts and trousers, and 

 fringed leather aprons, with heavy spurs on their bare 

 feet. They are wonderful riders and ropers, and fear 

 neither man nor beast. I noticed one Indian vaqueiro 

 standing in exactly the attitude of a Shilluk of the White 

 Nile, with the sole of one foot against the other leg, above 

 the knee. This is a region with extraordinary possi- 

 bilities of cattle-raising. 



At this ranch there was a tannery ; a slaughter-house; 

 a cannery ; a church ; buildings of various kinds and all 

 degrees of comfort for the thirty or forty families who 

 made the place their headquarters; and the handsome, 

 white, two-story big house, standing among lemon-trees 

 and flamboyants on the river-brink. There were all kinds 

 of pets around the house. The most fascinating was a 

 wee, spotted fawn which loved being petted. Half a 

 dozen curassows of different species strolled through the 

 rooms; there were also parrots of several different spe- 

 cies, and immediately outside the house four or five 

 herons, with undipped wings, which would let us come 

 within a few feet and then fly gracefully off, shortly 



