"The Falls of Iguazu, children, are one of the most beautiful places in all Brazil. They lie at the joining of the Parana and Iguazu rivers, at the point where the frontiers of Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina meet. We will go by rail to Curitaba but part of the way lies through the mountains and will be hard to travel. The sail down the river will be delightful. Your mother, Martim, will stay here on the plantation, and any one who wishes may stay with her. Uncle Juan, Martim and I, your father and mother, Lola, are going. Who else wants to be in the party?"
"I!" cried all three children at once, and Lola added,
"We'll be so good, uncle, if we can only go!"
"Well, you may all go, then," said the Senhor Lopez, "and I think it will be a delightful trip. No—" as they all started to ask questions—"don't ask me a thing to-day. There will be plenty of time to talk about it on our journey, and I have not a moment to spare, for it takes a great deal of planning to get such a party off."
"Yes, and I have all I can possibly attend to," said Lola's mother. "So you little folk must amuse yourselves."
"I am the only one who has nothing to do," said Uncle Juan. "Suppose you all come out under the palms with me, and I will try to tell you something of the country we are going to see." So joyfully they trooped after him and listened spellbound to his words.
"The country where we are going," he said, "is called the 'Land of the Missiones' because it is here that the early missions were founded by the Jesuits. These devoted men went all over that part of Brazil trying to convert the Indians and making settlements, some of which are still standing after two hundred years. San Ignacio, though deserted by the Indians, is still in existence near Iguazu and there was once there a prosperous Indian settlement built around a plaza, with a school, dwelling houses and a church.
"The falls are magnificent, but you will have to wait and see them before you can understand how really beautiful they are."
"Not so beautiful as Niagara, father, of course!" said Maria, and her father said, "Some people think they are quite as fine, daughter; but have you a chip on your shoulder now about the States? Maria would never admit to any North American that anything in the States could be finer than it was down here," he added to the boys.
Martim exclaimed, "Well, she's a queer sort of a girl! She never would let us praise anything here, because she'd always say the States were finer."