All being ready, we started off, four of us, two in front and two behind, with eleven loose ponies between us. By this time the sky was beginning to grow light, and evidently the fresh morning air had disagreed with my friend T.'s horse, which suddenly cleared down a side street with his head between his forelegs and his back arched like the bend in an archer's bow. After some seconds of this amusing sight T. managed to get the pony's head up and came along again, looking very warm and beaming; his pink-nosed pony quite satisfied that he would have to carry more than his own weight for some distance further. Leaving Reconquista on the north we crossed, over an old railway embankment, a large stretch of low country, through which a small stream glided with winding course, and jogging along league after league we gradually got into more interesting country: little clumps of trees with very thick undergrowth, clinging creepers, bright-coloured flowers, and gorgeously plumaged birds. All along the sides of the roads were little farms, apparently uncultivated, except for small patches of wonderfully grown maize and browning linseed. Practically all these farms are owned by Swiss and German peasants, each one with his small herd of cows and working bullocks. We changed our ponies every three or four leagues, always going at the same jog-trot, stopping occasionally at a wayside inn to wet our parched throats with fresh well water (with a drop of caña in it to kill the microbes), and smoking hard all the time to keep off the swarms of mosquitoes. After travelling ten leagues or so we began to leave these habitations behind us, and got into wilder country with no fences, only long stretches of undulating land, dotted with patches of splendid-looking trees and enticing shade. The road occasionally crossed small streams, which gradually became more tropical looking, until we came to quite a large river, two or three hundred metres wide, looking beautifully peaceful and oily. Standing above on the bank, in the shade of some magnificent quebracho trees, we looked down upon this lazy stretch of perfect scenery, when suddenly there was a slight disturbance in the water and a small black dot appeared on the top of the water. The capataz at once pulled out his revolver, all of us doing likewise, only to have to put them back again, as the dot had disappeared as quickly as it came. This was the first sign of wild animal life we saw, the "jacaré" or alligator. In the more civilised parts of the Chaco, these animals, as well as the carpincho or water-hog, are getting quite rare, and having been so much shot at and worried they need the most careful stalking.