CHAPTER IV. 
THE FALLS OF IGUAZU. 
Where the river of this name joins the 
Parana lies a small settlement, and turning to 
the right we entered the Iguazu, and steamed 
past the stone pillar on the hill which marks 
the boundary between the Argentine and Brazil. 
A few scattered buildings lay on the slope, 
and an official or two in white uniforms watched 
our arrival, as we lay rocking gently on the 
green water, clearer and not so turbid as that 
of the Parana. 
Having secured our permits to enter Brazil, 
we steamed away again back to the larger river, 
and went a short way up stream. We meant to 
see the Falls from Brazilian territory. The 
Falls, it should be said, are on the Iguazu River 
itself, some twenty miles up from its junction 
with the Parana. 
It was very hot, and the little bay with its 
spit of white sand lay scorching in the sun. 
Some boys on a small tug fished languidly, and 
the water glittered like splintered glass. We 
hung mosquito curtains across the open doors 
