366 The Naturalist in La Plata. 



furry face to be thereafter only an image in 

 memory. 



Sometimes the prize may be a very rich one, and 

 actually within reach of the hand — challenging the 

 hand, as it were, to grasp it, and yet presently slip 

 away to be seen no more, although it maybe sought 

 for day after day, with a hungry longing com- 

 parable to that of some poor tramp who finds a 

 gold doubloon in the forest, and just when he is 

 beginning to realize all that it means to him drops 

 it in the grass and cannot find it again. There is 

 not the faintest motion in the foliage, no rustle of 

 any dry leaf, and yet we know that something has 

 moved — something has come or has gone ; and, 

 gazing fixedly at one spot, we suddenly see that it 

 is still there, close to us, the pointed ophidian head 

 and long neck, not drawn back and threatening, 

 but sloping forward, dark and polished as the green 

 and purple weed-stems springing from marshy soil, 

 and with an irregular chain of spots extending 

 down the side. Motionless, too, as the stems it is ; 

 but presently the tongue, crimson and glistening, 

 darts out and flickers, like a small jet of smoke and 

 flame, and is withdrawn ; then the smooth serpent 

 head drops down, and the thing is gone. 



How I saw and lost the noble wrestling frog has 

 been recounted in Chapter IV. : other tantalizing 

 experiences of the same kind remain to be told in 

 the present chapter, which is not intended for the 

 severe naturalist, but rather for such readers as 

 may like to hear something about the pains and 

 pleasures of the seeker as well as the result of the 

 seeking. 



