MOUTHS OF THE PARANA.

39

We had a fine passage, being favoured all the way with a north wind, which is the best, and, indeed, the only good one for descending the Paraná. But this wind, while it augments the rapidity of the current, causes a considerable fall in the river, and consequently renders navigation more difficult. With all our own vaqueano's care, the San José got aground on a bank, and we were obliged to unload many bales from the troxa before we could get her off again.

But, although this contretemps lost us two days, we arrived on the ninth from that of our leaving Goya at the principal mouth of the river, called the Paraná Guasú, in contradistinction to the Paraná Miní, or Great and Little Paraná. The former disembogues in the Uruguay, and forms the deepest outlet and the best for large vessels; the latter falls into the River Plate itself, and is a more direct communication with it.

The whole navigation of the Paraná from the village of San Pedro, which stands on its banks, to its various disembocaduras or mouths, is not a little intricate and ramified, rendering it difficult for a vessel which is going against the current to get over las Nueve Vueltas or nine windings, in which the

wind, to be fair, must blow from every point of the compass. The Paraná de las Palmas, although wide, is only navigable by small vessels, and the other branches, which flow into the River Plate between the Paraná Guasú and the Paraná de las Palmas, are intricate and dangerous in the extreme. Another curious part of the navigation is that of the Caracoles, which we shall have to mention by and bye. Of the river Uruguay it is not our province here to speak, but a reference to the map will show how much wider it is, a considerable way up, than the Paraná, although the former can only be viewed as a tributary stream to the River Plate, while the Paraná, or more properly the Paraguay, is the trunk or parent of the mighty confluence of waters which at last mingle with the Atlantic Ocean, at the huge mouth of the Rio de la Plata.

We called nowhere on our voyage, except occasionally at estancias for fresh provisions. Although nothing at the time was to be apprehended either from the authorities or the troops on either side of the river, and although the freebooters had been dispersed and were mostly working as peons on the different estates, we had suffered too much from irregular, unlawful, or violent aggression, willingly

WASTING OF TIME.

41

(except in a case of emergency) to put ourselves in the power of any. We speeded our quiet and unobtrusive course, therefore, without anything to remark upon but the silent beauties of the Paraná. These, however, as well as the mode of navigation, both aguas arriba (up the river) and aguas abaxo (down the river) have been so fully described in our work on Paraguay, as scarcely to bear repetition here.

On arrival at the Guasú, then, our intention was to tranship to launches the troxa, or deck part of the cargoes of our two vessels, and then let them proceed with the remainder to Balizas, the port, or rather "inner roads," of Buenos Ayres.

This was eventually done; but as it was necessary, before we quitted our fastness, among trees, shrubs, and islands in the Guasú, to ascertain that the way was clear of enemies and other obstructions in the open river,—or, what it is more like, the high sea,-of the Rio de la Plata, we despatched a messenger in the Saint Joseph's long boat to our friend and partner, Mr. Fair, to announce our arrival and learn how we were next to proceed.

While we lay at the Guasú we beguiled the hours in the best way we could,—now with our

books, now going ashore and ranging among the interminable intricacies of the islands; at one time with a gun among the feathered tribes, at another with a line among the finny race. The north wind by its duration, continued increasing the heat, and rendering the attacks of the mosquitos during the evening less and less supportable. What provoked us quite as much, was our knowledge that it was retarding the return of our long-boat, or of any other water-borne conveyance which might be coming to release us from our quarantine.

At length, on the third evening, as we were exulting over the capture of a magnificent pacù, -a kind of fresh-water turbot, and a very delicious fish, we heard the distant sound of voices and splashing of oars. After an hour's anxiety, now losing and now again catching the sounds as they were wafted to us on the breeze, they became at last so distinct that we could hear ourselves hailed by the well-known voices of Mr. Fair, and of his and our old friend Mr. EWith the former, he

had resolved, to be one of the first to welcome us back to Buenos Ayres. As their boat, though with a covered deck, drew little water, their pilot had entered one of the many arms of the

AN ARRIVAL ON BOARD OF THE SAN JOSE. 43

Paraná, as affording an easier and more direct communication with the point where we lay. This was behind a small island near the mouth of the Guasú, and our approaching friends had so many doublings and windings of the river to master, that we were hailing each other nearly for an hour before they got to us, or before the deep foliage of the intervening trees would allow us to see each other.

When at last they emerged from the shaded stream, and came suddenly upon us, Mr. Eviewed with great surprise the housetop on which we walked, and with no small difficulty we had him hoisted up to the upper and artificial deck of the San José; but when fairly there, all the discomforts of the passage up were forgotten, both by him and by Mr. Fair; and on both sides the cordial.

welcome was very

Mr. E

was then, as during an unbroken residence of thirty years in Buenos Ayres he has continued to be, a general favourite with his countrymen there. He was, at the time of which we speak, a stout, middle-sized, easy-going gentleman, turned of forty; and even at this early stage of his career, from a certain quietude of manner about him, aided, perhaps, by the paternal interest he