Next, we again headed for the Chaco, having as our goal a station called Avia Terai, about half-way to Resistencia on the Paraguay River. The train was packed with Italian home-seekers; they were a noisy, quarrelsome lot. Many of them were drunk or ill, and so many unsavory things were occurring constantly in the coaches (there were no compartment-cars), that we remained in the buffet-car. An aged bishop, accompanied by two priests, were fellow passengers. The prelate got off at each stop to bless the crowds that had collected to see him, and then as many as possible knelt to kiss his ring before the train pulled out. After the trio returned to their table, the two priests promptly fell asleep while their venerable superior read from a small prayer-book. I wondered why he tolerated such sleepy, uninteresting companions. At midnight we reached Añatuya and changed to another train. This place was one of wild confusion. There were mountains of luggage piled on the platform, and mobs of excited people rushing wildly about in vain attempts to locate their belongings. I was alarmed over the safety of our own possessions, so stationed the faithful Antonio near the door of the baggage-car with instructions to let me know when unloading began; we then secured _peons_ to immediately carry the trunks and bags to our train, thus avoiding their being dumped on the huge piles, and perhaps lost. In the early morning we reached Quimilí, at which place a siding branches off to Tintina; most of the immigrants went in this direction. The country was all flat and covered with grass. Later on clumps of forest appeared which grew larger and denser as we went farther east. There were numerous stops but no towns of any importance. At 2.30 P. M., the train halted at Avia Terai, and we were soon encamped in the rear of one of the two huts comprising that station. About all we could see from our abode was an immense area covered with tall weeds, surrounded by dense forest. Sand-flies, called _polvoriños_, filled the air like flecks of dust so that we had to keep a smudge going most of the time. The people said there was a great deal of malaria in the neighborhood, and one look into their faces was ample to substantiate the statement. Usually it was very hot; it rained most of the time, but occasionally the nights were very cold--an altogether disagreeable combination of weather. One of our trunks, containing all the instruments, had mysteriously disappeared from the baggage-car, so we had only a pocket-knife with which to work; but, by putting in longer hours we managed to keep up to our average daily number in preparing specimens. We gave the conductor of a passing train a tip of several _pesos_, and on his next run he brought us the missing trunk, saying that he had found it at a station a few miles below.