In the Wilds of South America

by Leo E. Miller

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.