CHAPTER XIV

HUNTING EXCURSIONS ALONG THE UPPER PARAGUAY

Corumbá is a very hot, dusty town built on a high, rocky elevation on

the west bank of the Paraguay. The settlement bears the unenviable

reputation of being the rendezvous for fugitives from justice from many

climates, but we saw nothing of the lawlessness and disorder said to

prevail, and the treatment we received was all that could be desired.

The heat at midday was great, but frequently a breeze came up at night.

Rows of low, spreading mimosa-trees lined some of the streets and cast

a welcome shade; their branches were covered with clumps of gorgeous

scarlet flowers.

A railroad in course of construction will soon connect Corumbá with

Rio de Janeiro. There is also a cart trail leading through the heart

of the chaco to Santa Cruz, Bolivia; to travel over it is a difficult

undertaking, the ox-drawn carts requiring a minimum of thirty days

for the trip. During the rainy season a large part of the country is

inundated, when the caravans must, of course, suspend their activity.

I met two men who had made this journey but a short time before. One

night a party of Indians attacked and killed all the members of a

caravan, stopping only a half-mile distant from the spot where one of

these men and his family had made their camp. The tribes along this

route are the Penoquies, Guaranokas, and Potoreras, and they are said

to be of a treacherous, hostile disposition.

As there was little zoological work to be done in the immediate

vicinity of Corumbá, we moved to a place called Urucúm, about nine

miles away. The road lay through scrub growth and forest, and was all

but impassable on account of the deep mud and rocks. Numbers of native

cabins are scattered along the wayside; some of the occupants conduct

dairy-farms, and the cows carry bells tied to the tips of their horns.

Urucúm proved to be a garden spot of clear, cold springs, shady

groves, and plantations of tropical fruits and vegetables. In the

centre of all stood comfortable cottages with large, well-ventilated

rooms and delightful shower-baths. Fields and forested hillsides,

marshes, and lagoons were easy of access; in them dwelt an abundant

and varied fauna. A grove of magnificent mango-trees grew near the

house that had been assigned for our use; hundreds of bats came to the

trees each morning just as dawn was breaking, to seek their diurnal

sleeping-quarters among the dense foliage. They arrived in unbroken

streams and spent a great deal of time whirring through the branches,

squeaking and making queer little noises that sounded as if they were

grating their teeth. Then they finally settled in clusters of from

six to a dozen individuals in some particularly thick clump of leaves

and, suspended by the claws of their hind feet, began their daytime

slumbers. On windy or rainy days they lost little time in becoming

settled, and did not seek the swaying branches, but clung to the

tree-trunks or on the under-side of the thick limbs. This species of

bat (_Vampyrops lineatus_) has a leaf-shaped appendage on top of the

nose which may be of some use to the animal, but is probably of little

consequence. This “leaf,” the nose and face, including the tips of the

ears, were tinged with delicate green. As the bats hung head downward,

the green-tinted extremity naturally pointed toward the earth; but if

the color was intended as a protection it was of little or no avail,

as it could not be seen unless the animal was examined at close range.

Other individuals of the same species were collected in a dark cave in

the near-by mountains. They, however, showed only a very faint or no

trace at all of the green coloring on the face. I am convinced that

this color is not a vegetable stain, but that the pigment exists in the

skin; it fades soon after death.

A footpath leading through the forest a distance of several miles

ended at a manganese-mine which penetrated into the mountainside about

three hundred feet. Although the mine had been by no means exhausted,

it was no longer worked, owing to the great expense of transporting

the ore. The dark, deserted tunnel was an ideal resort for bats of

not less than four species; one of them (_Mimon bennetti_) was of

considerable size. We entered the mine with a lighted candle, but

the bats invariably soon put out the light with their wings. Each

kind, it seemed, occupied a different part of the tunnel. At first

they were slow to leave their places of concealment in the crevices

between the rocks, but after a few days’ persecution numbers of them

rushed from the mine and disappeared over the top of the mountain at

the mere appearance of the lighted candle in the entrance. The men who

accompanied me on these excursions refused to enter the dark opening in

the mountainside, as they said it was infested with poisonous snakes;

but, although we explored it thoroughly on several occasions, not a

single reptile was ever seen.

In walking through the forest we always saw animals that were of

more than passing interest. One day I surprised a tiger-cat in the

trail; it ran a few yards and then started up a tree, rapidly climbing

about twenty-five feet, and then clung to the rough bark; it remained

perfectly motionless and permitted me to walk up to within a short

distance of the base of the tree. A short time later I came upon two

cebus monkeys feeding in the branches above the trail. I shot at one of

them, wounding it. The other was fully ten yards away, but rushed to

the rescue, and taking up the wounded animal started off with it at a

rapid pace. Most South American monkeys will promptly desert a comrade

in danger or trouble, but in this instance it was a female with her

two-thirds-grown offspring, and the mother-love was so much stronger

than her fear that she exposed herself to danger without hesitation, in

saving her distressed young.

One of the most surprising animals encountered in the forest was a

large, red, hairy armadillo (_Euphractus_). It sprang up suddenly,

almost beneath one’s feet, and bounded away with such great speed that

it always reminded me of a boulder hurtling down a hillside. Within

a few moments it was lost from view among the undergrowth, but the

bumping noise as it struck the earth at each jump could be heard for

some time after the animal had disappeared. At night these armadillos

came out into the clearings and did a great deal of damage in the

fields newly planted in corn. We desired to trap some of the creatures,

so, following the advice of the natives, we cleared a path one thousand

metres long and one metre wide on the edge of the field, and next to

the forest. Four salt-barrels were sunk in this cleared lane, their

tops flush with the earth; then we covered the openings with a thin

layer of dried grass. Grains of corn were strewn all along the cleared

stretch, and a liberal amount was sprinkled on the grass covering the

pits. The armadillos, in their nocturnal excursions from and to the

forest, were attracted by the line of corn and followed it, eating the

kernels as they went; when they arrived at one of the barrels they

plunged into it and were unable to clamber out. We caught several

in this manner. One of them was despatched to the Bronx Zoological

Park, but it died _en route_. It is a remarkable fact that after the

armadillos fell into the barrels, which contained no wooden bottoms,

they made no attempt to burrow out. Their long claws and strong limbs

enable them to dig with ease and rapidity. When cornered they fight

viciously with the claws and teeth and are capable of inflicting

dangerous wounds.

One of the owners of Urucúm stated that at one time he owned a pet

jaguar that subsisted entirely on armadillos caught in the manner

described above. The flesh is esteemed by the people, also.

On several occasions we saw the gaping entrance to the tunnel of a

_Tatu canasto_, or giant armadillo, but at no time did we have a

glimpse of its occupant. This is one of the curious, archaic creatures

persisting, together with the giant ant-bear, sloth, and hoatzin, long

after the star of their age has passed its zenith. Apparently they

were not at all uncommon, for we saw scores of the enormous carapaces,

looking like casques of armor, in the curio-shops at Asuncion. The

animal is fully four feet long, and weighs upward of sixty pounds. A

single claw that I found on the Upper Orinoco was seven inches long.

Another visitor to the plantations was a kind of small, red forest-deer

or brocket (_Mazama_) with single-spike horns. They spent the days in

the heavy timber or dense, low thickets and wild banana-brakes. They

were particularly fond of growing beans and destroyed quantities of the

legumes in a single night. The natives’ way of ridding themselves of

the plunderer is to erect a high platform on poles in the centre of the

field, commanding a view on all sides, and then shoot the animal as it

emerges from its hiding-place.

We also secured a good specimen of one of the rarest animals found

in South America. It is the red wolf (_Chrysocyon_), or guaraguasú,

of the Brazilians. However, very little is known of the animal’s

habits even by the Indians and natives who are usually so prolific

with stories about the wild creatures coming under their observation.

My own experience is limited to two fleeting glances of the huge red

forms dashing away at breakneck speed several hundred yards distant,

and to hearing the weird, strange wail at night. It equals or exceeds

in size the gray wolf of our north woods. It is said to live singly,

frequenting the _chapadão_ and papyrus marshes, and to travel great

distances in quest of rabbits, cavies, and other small mammals that

form its principal items of food.

There were also peccaries, black howler monkeys and marmosettes, and

among the smaller mammals living in the deep forest was a curious

little woolly opossum (_Metachirus_) that ventured out only after dark

in search of fruits, insects, birds, or almost anything of an edible

nature. It is essentially an animal of the deep shadows; if taken

out into the brilliant sunshine it dies within a very short time.

Frequently our traps were sprung by black lizards three or four feet

long (_Dracæna_); they fought fiercely and clung tenaciously to a stick

or other object within their reach. Their teeth are so strong that they

scratched the steel barrel of a shotgun. Rattlesnakes were not rare in

the open country, but they were of small size; I saw none more than

three feet long.

Among the hosts of birds parrakeets were by far the most abundant.

They came to the mango-trees by hundreds and were so noisy that they

became a decided nuisance. In feeding they frequently took a bite or

two out of a fruit and then, letting it fall, proceeded to another. In

this way a great amount was wasted, but the people were good-natured

over the matter and doubtless realized that there was fruit enough for

all, as they never molested the parrakeets. Many of the birds were

nesting. A red-breasted thrush (_Planesticus_), not unlike the robin,

had its mud and grass nest in the low crotch of a tree on the edge of

the forest, but the three eggs were heavily speckled with rusty brown

instead of being of a plain-blue color. There were cunning little pigmy

owls in the brush-patches, but in spite of their small size they are

very bold and ferocious and kill birds nearly as large as themselves.

In turn they are preyed upon by members of their own family. Some of

the larger owls habitually catch small owls whenever possible. One day

my attention was attracted by a commotion in a clump of dense bushes

and, as I neared the spot, an owl of moderate size (_Ciccaba_) made a

number of attempts to fly up from the ground, but apparently it was

carrying something too heavy to permit it to fly. Finally it deserted

the object and flew to a branch a few yards away. Going to the spot, I

found a screech owl with a portion of its head eaten away. Pigmy owls

are eagerly sought for by the natives. They become very tame and are

supposed to bring good luck to their owners. We had brought a small

owl of another species with us which had been named “Moses.” When we

found him in the market at Asuncion he was a forlorn and hungry little

creature, but showed such a friendly disposition that he was promptly

purchased and soon became the very popular mascot of the expedition. At

Urucúm Moses was given his liberty among the rafters of our home; he

walked about gravely overhead and came down only when hungry or when

the half-filled wash-basin lured him to the delights of a cool bath.

Sometimes I put him out in a tree for an airing, but carnivorous ants

were abundant and nearly always discovered him before very long; then

he danced about, clattered with his bill, and made queer little cooing

noises until I rescued him.

We spent nearly three weeks at Urucúm. They passed very quickly, for

Urucúm is one of those delightful places found all too rarely in South

America. Word reached us that Colonel Roosevelt and his Brazilian

escort had reached Corumbá, so we hastened back to town; there we met

the entire party and made the acquaintance of Colonel Rondon and the

other members of the Brazilian Commission.

A hunting-trip on the Taquary had been planned to secure some of the

large game that is found in the region. December 16, therefore, found

the hunting-party aboard the _Nyoac_. This boat, which was a river

steamer of considerable size, had been placed at the disposal of the

expedition by the government, and served as our “home” during the weeks

that followed, until we reached Porto Campo. Besides Colonel Roosevelt,

there were on board Colonel Candido Mariano da Silva Rondon, Kermit

Roosevelt, Captain Amilcar de Magalhães, a photographer, physician,

taxidermist, and myself. Mr. Cherrie had returned to Urucúm to finish

the work in that locality, and Mr. Fiala remained in Corumbá to

complete the examination of the enormous amount of impedimenta which he

had so ably brought together.

[Illustration: S. S. _Nyoac_ on the Paraguay River.]

[Illustration: Corumbá.]

The _Nyoac_ steamed up the Paraguay a few hours, and then turned

into the mouth of the Taquary. The water of the latter river being

pretty low, a steam-launch was towed along as a precaution; should

the steamer become stranded it would have been possible to proceed

on the launch. We had been travelling but a short time, when cries

from members of the crew drew our attention to the water; and there,

where the launch had been but a moment before, were only a few sticks

of fire-wood floating on the water. A man had been placed aboard the

smaller craft to operate the steering-gear; he had fallen asleep at his

post, and in rounding a sharp bend the launch had capsized and sunk. We

spent several hours trying to drag the submerged boat to the bank, but

the task had to be abandoned, and the launch was left--a total loss.

There were scores of caimans along the Taquary. As these reptiles are

justly classed as vermin they may be destroyed on sight. Frequently

rows of them dotted the edges of the sand-banks, lying with wide-open

mouths. A shot in the head was instantly fatal, and the only movement

perceptible was the sudden closing of the mouth as the bullet went

home. Crocodiles frequently enter the forest to quite some distance

from the water; I know of no more repulsive sight than to come

suddenly upon one of the huge saurians lying quietly in wait among the

shadows; the evil, grinning expression; the leering green eyes and the

glistening, scaly body of the creature suggest treachery and cruelty

combined with agility and cunning. One of the reptiles that we saw had

cornered a school of fish in a small inlet, blocking the entrance with

its body. As the frantic fish tried to escape by jumping out of the

water and over the obstruction, the crocodile caught them in mid-air

and swallowed them.

Late in the afternoon we saw a giant ant-eater galloping across a

grassy field. The steamer was brought to the bank instantly and a

hunting-party with dogs landed. Soon the animal was brought to bay and

shot. When it was brought aboard darkness had set in, so no photograph

could be made of it, and as game spoils within a few hours in the damp,

hot climate, the animal could not be left until morning. We took the

necessary measurements, skinned the creature, and then spread the hide

out on the upper deck. Later we found that the tamanduá bandado, as it

is called, was not at all rare in the _pantanales_. This occasioned

some surprise, as a great deal of this country is marshy and there are

consequently few termites, on which it was thought to feed exclusively.

Recent observations by Mr. Cherrie, however, explain why this animal

can exist in the _pantanal_ type of country. He found it _climbing

trees_ and devouring the soft part of nestling birds, both of which

acts are about the last things one would expect of such a highly

specialized animal.

The tamanduá bandado stands about two feet high and is six feet long.

The body is covered with long, coarse hair. The color is gray. A

broad black band, bordered with white, begins on the chest and passes

obliquely over the shoulder, ending in a point as it approaches the

loins. This marking gives the animal a peculiar, “cut-up” appearance.

The nose is greatly elongated, and the mouth is a mere slit through

which the pensile tongue is thrust in licking up ants. As it gallops

clumsily along, for the enormous back-turned claws of the front feet

impede its progress, the flattened tail is thrown up and seems to aid

in balancing the animal. When pursued by either men or dogs, it runs

until closely pressed, and then rears up and makes short dashes at

its assailants. It is easily capable of inflicting fatal wounds with

its claws. P. Lydekker (Royal Natural History) states that its habits

are nocturnal and that it has “usually a regular lair ... generally

situated among tall grass, where it spends the day in slumber....” In

the same paragraph he speaks of the animal tearing open the hillocks of

termites with the powerful claws of the forefeet; and “as soon as the

light of day is let into their domicile the ants or termites rush to

the surface....” Without commenting on this inconsistency, I believe

that the giant ant-eater is at least partially diurnal. The stomachs

of the specimens shot by Colonel Roosevelt and his son Kermit contained

ants and termites, a quantity of earth, and bits of dry and green

leaves. The colonel expressed the opinion that the earth and leaves

had been picked up with the ants. The walls of the stomach are thick

and muscular, like the gizzard of a fowl. In captivity they thrive on

finely chopped meat.

We spent the night aboard the _Nyoac_, which had been made fast at a

landing where there was only a dilapidated thatched-roof shed. Early

the next morning horses were brought up and saddled and we started on a

five hours’ ride to the ranch-house that was to serve as camp.

Before us stretched vast marshes, dotted here and there with little

islands of pastureland and groves of trees or thorny bushes. It was

typical pantanal country. Parrots, parrakeets, and macaws flashed by

with raucous shrieks, and _kis-ka-dee_ flycatchers calmly surveyed the

cavalcade from the uppermost branches. Sometimes we flushed a small

flock of beautiful Brazilian teals, and in the distance we saw ibises

and jabiru storks standing in the long grass, like foam-flecks on a sea

of green. For the greater part of the distance we rode through water

knee-deep to the horses, but in spots the marshes were drying. In the

little pools that were all that remained of what had formerly, perhaps,

been an immense lagoon, myriads of imprisoned fish wriggled and churned

the water into thin mud. They formed an almost solid mass, and at the

borders numbers were constantly leaping out; the ground was strewn with

the dead and dying by thousands, and of many species. The stench from

the decomposing fish was almost overpowering. Numerous animals coming

out of their hiding-places at night to gorge on the bountiful repast

left their foot-prints in the soft mud. Apparently opossums, coatis,

tiger-cats, and even jaguars haunted these places. In the daytime the

countless numbers of water-birds exacted their share of the spoil.

The _fazenda_, or ranch-house, called Palmiras’, was reached at noon.

It was an interesting place; the long, low, rambling buildings formed

a square with an open court in the centre, in which trees and flowers

grew and pigs and chickens roamed at will. All about lay marshes,

papyrus swamp, fields, and forests. Herds of half-wild cattle grazed on

the vast range, and marsh-deer stalked among them or along the borders

of the thick papyrus growths. The main object of this excursion was

to obtain the lordly jaguar. Men were sent out to locate fresh spoor

of the animals, and after a several days’ hunt were successful. Then

a motley cavalcade, headed by the colonel, set out to find the big,

spotted cat. Some of the party rode horses or mules, and a number

of natives were mounted on steers. A pack of dogs, used to tree the

quarry, trotted excitedly beside the riders. After many hours the faint

call of a bugle far away announced the return of the hunting-party.

Other bugles took up the signal, and by the time camp was reached

all of the natives were lined up and eager to inspect the trophies.

Within a week two jaguars, a second ant-eater, and a few deer had been

secured. There was not sufficient time to undertake a systematic study

of the bird life, but the species found in the immediate vicinity

of the house were of ample interest to occupy the attention of a

naturalist for many months. Foremost among them was the hyacinthine

macaw, largest of the entire parrot family. The dazzling blue creature

is more than a yard long, and the beak is so powerful that it can

gnaw through the tough hull of the _castanha_, or Brazil nut, a feat

unequalled, perhaps, by any other bird. It is a powerful flyer and

usually there were only two or four together; but some of the flocks

we saw numbered ten or twelve birds. But as a whole, the bird is rare,

and as it inhabits the wildest _pantanales_ and jungles, its graceful

flight and loud screams are one of the rare rewards of those only who

venture far beyond the beaten route of travel. The closet naturalist

may inspect the stuffed skin, but it can no more convey to him an

impression of the gorgeous, living bird, than the dry, shrunken bush

at midwinter suggests the flowering rose.

Small colonies of blackbirds dwelt in the papyrus swamp. Their heads

were of a fiery red color, and as they sat on the swaying reeds they,

from a distance, resembled brilliant blossoms. However, these birds

were not abundant.

The preparation of the skins of large mammals was a difficult

undertaking. No provision had been made for this branch of the work,

as the object of the expedition was not zoological but geographical.

However, none of the large game was thrown away; it was skinned and

preserved in the best manner possible under the circumstances.

Returning to Corumbá on the evening of December 21, we were joined by

the other members of the expedition and immediately proceeded on the

up-river voyage toward São Luis de Caceres. A short side-trip was made

up the Rio São Lourenço, with brief stops at various points where there

were evidences of game, but very little was added to the collections.

On January 1, early in the morning, we halted at a place where there

were fresh jaguar tracks on the river-bank. Colonels Roosevelt and

Rondon, and Kermit, accompanied by a number of _camaradas_ and the

dogs, immediately took up the trail and disappeared among the trees.

We spent a part of the day on board the steamer, and the remainder

collecting in the immediate vicinity. One of the men ran into a nest

of maribundi wasps; one of the enraged insects stung him on the head

and for several hours the poor fellow was in great agony. His head was

swollen to an enormous size, and his companions bathed it constantly

with water to relieve the pain; they feared he would die. I have very

good reasons for remembering these wasps. While on the Chaparé River,

in Bolivia, one of them crawled under the mosquito-net covering my

cot; when I retired at night I put my arm on the insect and was stung

four times before it could be captured. The effect of the poison was

as rapid as it was remarkable. It produced a kind of paralysis within

about five minutes, which the prompt action alone of my companion

prevented from ending fatally; but more extraordinary still, the

same symptoms returned regularly at six months’ intervals during the

following two years. Each attack lasted from a week to ten days.

The day gradually drew to a close, and finally darkness settled over

the landscape, but there was no sign of the hunting-party. The captain,

therefore, began to cruise up and down the river, giving frequent

blasts of the ship’s whistle, for it was feared that the hunters might

have become lost. After an hour or so we suddenly rounded a sharp bend

and heard a loud voice singing cheerfully somewhere on the bank. A boat

was sent in the direction whence the sound came, and after a short time

it returned with Colonels Roosevelt and Rondon. They had been pursuing

the jaguar through forest and swamp for twelve hours on foot, and

without food or drink. Their clothing was torn and covered with mud; it

had been necessary to swim frequently, in their clothes, holding their

rifles above their heads; the lagoons were infested with _piranhas_ and

crocodiles. In running through the vegetation fire-ants and wasps had

been swept from the leaves and branches, and the insects had been quick

to retaliate with bites and stings. But Colonel Roosevelt had enjoyed

the experience thoroughly and at once sat down to a hearty dinner,

during the course of which we heard the story of the hunt. Kermit

returned some hours later. Most of the _camaradas_ were so tired they

spent the night in the forest and did not come in until late the next

morning.

We always passed the nights ashore; the temperature in our cabin aboard

the _Nyoac_ was 118° F., so we much preferred to sling our hammocks

among the trees, where it was cooler. One morning upon awakening I was

surprised to see the gently waving palm-leaves overhead. It seemed

queer that I should have forgotten to adjust the mosquito net the

night before; but an investigation showed that the greater part of the

netting had been carried away during the night by the _carregador_

ants. In my several experiences with these insects I have never known

them to carry away woollen clothing, but all articles of cotton to

which they had access were destroyed.

The jabiru storks were nesting on the São Lourenço; we saw several

of their great platform nests of sticks perched in the crotches of

giant trees. The young storks, two in number and fully feathered, were

continually exercising their limbs by running back and forth in the

nest, flapping their wings all the while, preparatory to launching

forth into the big world. If we tossed short sticks up to them they

caught them in their bills, held on for a few moments, then dropped

them. Caimans were particularly plentiful on the upper Paraguay. Scores

of the evil-looking reptiles lay on the sand-banks, with wide-open

mouths and staring, glassy eyes. A fringe of trees flanked the water;

through them we could see the boundless wastes of _pantanales_ beyond.

Troops of black howler monkeys ambled leisurely away as the boat drew

near; the males only were black, the females being of a straw-color.

There were immense flocks of a species of gray-throated, green

parrakeets; some of them were building enormous nests of sticks in

the branches. When a single tree contained three or four of the huge

structures, its strength was strained to the breaking-point, for some

of the nests were five or six feet across and contained hundreds of

pounds of material; but not all of them were of this size; some were

composed of no more than an armful of sticks and were occupied by a

single pair of birds. The larger ones harbor dozens of birds. The

nesting cavities had been in the under-side of the structures; entrance

to them was gained through tubular openings underneath.

The number of water-birds in the _pantanales_ bordering the upper

Paraguay is almost unbelievably large. There were such countless

thousands of cormorants and anhingas that they confused the eye.

Colonel Roosevelt never permitted useless slaughter, and when one

day, one of the _camaradas_ forgot himself and shot a bird, he was

compelled to go for it in a rowboat; then the bird was skinned and

preserved. After that no one ventured to shoot at the winged hosts.

Egrets were present in such vast numbers that the trees were white

with them; and when they flew the twinkling wings filled the air like

snowflakes. They were not molested in this locality for the reason

that their habitat is impenetrable. I later learned in another region

that thousands of these birds are killed for their plumes, in a most

atrocious manner. About the time the egret’s feathers are at their

best, which is also the time when the nests are filled with young

birds, the annual floods have begun to recede, leaving small lakes

and marshes teeming with imprisoned fish, such as we had seen _en

route_ to Rancho Palmiras. This is the season of harvest for the

water-birds, and they repair daily to some favorite resort to gorge

on the luckless fish. The plume-hunters, taking advantage of this

combination of circumstances, collect quantities of fish, poison them,

and then scatter them over the birds’ feeding-grounds. Occasionally

poisoned shrimp are used if the inundations extend beyond the usual

time. This method is, of course, cheaper than shooting; the birds are

not frightened away as they are by the loud reports of guns, and the

success of such relentless persecution must be obvious. A whole colony

could be exterminated in its feeding-grounds even if the rookery is

impregnable.

São Luis de Caceres was reached January 5, and at noon the next day

the _Nyoac_ weighed anchor again and started up-stream. A short stop

was made at a small landing called Porto Campo, where a few days’ hunt

produced tapirs, deer, and white-lipped peccaries. January 13 found the

expedition aboard a launch, struggling against the swift current of the

Sepotuba. A heavy house-boat full of provisions and luggage was towed

alongside, and we made not over a mile an hour. The end of the river

journey came on January 16. We had reached Tapirapoan, the farthest

outpost on the frontier, and immediately preparations were begun for

our long dash across the _chapadão_ of Matto Grosso.

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