LIFE ON THE LAUNCH. 
143 
dorado! It has the consistency of salmon, but 
is of a paler pink colour and not quite so rich. 
An epicure who has not tasted grilled steak 
from a dorado fresh caught in the clear water 
below the fall of some small river into the 
Parana, cannot claim to have sounded the 
whole gamut of gustatory joys. The next 
question was whether to have bully beef or 
tongue, and the latter was chosen unanimously, 
to be served with asparagus. 'And a dorado 
salad ? ’ enquired Jerman persuasively, who 
prided himself on this dish, made of the flesh 
from the head of the dorado, mixed with 
plentiful supplies of onion and garlic. 'And 
then peaches,’ we pronounced firmly, having 
given in over the salad. 
The ordering of luncheon over, the next 
thing was to get some washing done, whilst we 
had the saloon to ourselves. We borrowed two 
buckets from Jerman, who again provided an 
inexhaustible supply of hot water from his tiny 
cubby-hole of a kitchen. He did the washing 
of sheets and pillow-cases and the men’s clothes, 
but we did our own, and had brought plenty of 
Sunlight soap with us. As the things were 
washed we hung them up to dry along the rails 
of the launch, and in an hour’s time they were 
ready to iron. We had brought a small iron 
with us, heated by methylated spirit, and it was 
one of our happiest inspirations. I settled 
down to the ironing, whilst my companion went 
