are of a pale gold colour, look out as from a couple
of watch towers, but when touched on the head or menaced,
the prominences sink down to a level with the head,
closing the eyes completely, and giving the creature
the appearance of being eyeless. The upper jaw
is armed with minute teeth, and there are two teeth
in the centre of the lower jaw, the remaining portions
of the jaw being armed with two exceedingly sharp-edged
bony plates. In place of a tongue, it has a round
muscular process with a rough flat disc the size of
a halfpenny.
It is common all over the pampas, ranging as far south
as the Rio Colorado in Patagonia. In the breeding
season it congregates in pools, and one is then struck
by their extraordinary vocal powers, which they exercise
by night. The performance in no way resembles
the series of percussive sounds uttered by most batrachians.
The notes it utters are long, as of a wind instrument,
not unmelodious, and so powerful as to make themselves
heard distinctly a mile off on still evenings.
After the amorous period these toads retire to moist
places and sit inactive, buried just deep enough to
leave the broad green back on a level with the surface,
and it is then very difficult to detect them.
In this position they wait for their prey—frogs,
toads, birds, and small mammals. Often they capture
and attempt to swallow things too large for them,
a mistake often made by snakes. In very wet springs
they sometimes come about houses and lie in wait for
chickens and ducklings. In disposition they are
most truculent, savagely biting at anything that comes
near them; and when they bite they hang on with the
tenacity of a bulldog, poisoning the blood with their
glandular secretions. When teased, the creature
swells itself out to such an extent one almost expects
to see him burst; he follows his tormentors about with
slow awkward leaps, his vast mouth wide open, and
uttering an incessant harsh croaking sound. A
gaucho I knew was once bitten by one. He sat down
on the grass, and, dropping his hand at his side,
had it seized, and only freed himself by using his
hunting knife to force the creature’s mouth
open. He washed and bandaged the wound, and no
bad result followed; but when the toad cannot be shaken
off, then the result is different. One summer
two horses were found dead on the plain near my home.
One, while lying down, had been seized by a fold in
the skin near the belly; the other had been grasped
by the nose while cropping grass. In both instances
the vicious toad was found dead, with jaws tightly
closed, still hanging to the dead horse. Perhaps
they are sometimes incapable of letting go at will,
and like honey bees, destroy themselves in these savage
attacks.
FEAR IN BIRDS.
