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flame, and is withdrawn ; then the smooth serpent 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. 
