After emerging from the forest this 6" long yellowfoot simply crossed the trail and disappeared on the other side.Patti and I were fortunate in being able to spend a good bit of time leading rainforest tours through various areas of the Peruvian rainforest. Depending on what our guests hoped to see we might have been following trails after dark in search of pit vipers, paddling kayaks in hope of seeing crocodile tegus, looking for green forest dragons in treefall areas, or simply meandering along forest pathways to see what we could see. All choices were wonderful, but I think I liked the daytime pathway walks the most. For it was on these we would occasionally meet one of my favorite herps, the Yellow-footed Tortoise, Chelonoidis denticulata.

In fact, it was only on these diurnal walks that we met these pretty chelonians. Sometimes they would be just sitting, legs mostly withdrawn, head and neck extended, soaking up the sunshine. At other times the tortoise might be strolling slowly along path edges nipping at whatever piece of forest vegetation that caught its eye. Sometimes they might only be bustling from one side of the trail to the other, leading us to the old why does a chicken cross the road query.

Despite being closely related to the red-footed tortoise, no variants have been designated for this species. Known to attain a straight measure of 28 inches, this tortoise is classed as the 5th largest land species.

A cherry-head red-footed tortoise from Southeast Brazil.
As far back as I can remember (well, maybe not quite that far- LOL) Red-footed Tortoises, Chelonoidis carbonaria, have been available in the American pet trade. But although all have been readily identifiable as redfoots, not all have been exactly the same. The first I recall with any assurance of accuracy were imported from Colombia I don’t remember any “cherryheads” from this northern South American country, but when viewed from above all that I saw were reminiscent of a dumbbell—somewhat expanded at both ends but noticeably narrower in the middle. A few from Bolivia were brighter in color, seemingly larger than the Colombians when adult, had brighter facial pattern, but retained the dumbbell shape. Oh, the red on the legs was brighter too. And in fact some were what have become now known as cherryheads. But the “real” cherryheads came from Brazil. On this most redfoot enthusiasts seemed to agree. Then a few arrived from Paraguay and while some were a bit lacking in color, others were red-headed (and footed) knockouts. And now there are “Clown-faced” red foots from Venezuela. Oh, and occasional examples from various Caribbean Islands.

Genetic definitions: Not species, not subspecies, merely seen as slightly differing populations:

Northeastern variant: Head and legs light orange to red. Carapace black. Plastrons are mostly pale yellow. Range includes Venezuela, Guyana, Suriname, and northern Brazil.
Northwestern variant: They are similar to the above but their carapace varies from grey to brown. Their yellow plastron bears a dark central figure. They are found in southeast Panama and Colombia.
Northern variant: These are similar but smaller than the above. Range includes Colombia, Ecuador, and Peru.
Southern variant: can be identified by range, this being Paraguay, and northern Argentina.
Eastern variant: Plastron are mostly mottled with dark pigment. Heads and legs vary from yellow to the eagerly sought cherry-heads. Range includes east to southeastern Brazil.

Take your pick. The choice is often yours.

An adult Fringed Leaf Frog, Amazonian Peru.
The frogs were there. There was no question about their presence in my mind. To find them we would be dependent on Lady Luck and suitably rainy nights. Would this be the night?

It had looked stormy for most of the day, had clouded entirely by late afternoon, and had begun raining in the torrents so typical of the aptly named Amazonian (Peru) rainforest by early evening. In herper’s terms, it looked like it was going to be a great night for amphibs—especially the hylids--- that were so quiet between the storms that they seemed absent.

By the time it was fully dark, puddles had formed on the forest floor and frog-voices were echoing from treetops, tree hollows, puddles, and vegetated areas of the flooded oxbows.

Although I recognized many of the anuran calls, I was listening intently through the rain for a soft burping call, one with little carrying power.

But even if I couldn’t hear it, if I could by chance actually see the frog, I’d know it. The species? Cruziohyla craspedopus, the fringed leaf frog, a hylid that, unless breeding, was said by many to not voluntarily leave the high overhead leafy canopy (this thought may now have been contraindicated).

Adults of this leaf frog, moderately large and spectacularly pretty, are usually leaf-green dorsally. Metamorphs and juveniles are grayish. The continuity of the dorsal color is broken by irregular, pale, blue-grey lichenate blotches. The sides and inner surfaces of the legs are yellow with black vertical bars. The belly is yellow. The tarsi and outer toes are strongly and unevenly fringed. From this feature the common name is derived.

This remarkable frog descends to lower branches when breeding. Eggs are deposited in water holding concavities in fallen trees but may also be placed in ground-level puddles near a fallen tree.
Although we walked late into the night, startled by potoos and berated by owl monkeys, our goal frog eluded us. But the next day one of the hikers with us suddenly stopped as we were passing through a patch of broad-leafed vegetation, pointed, and asked “what kind of frog is this?”

And there flattened tightly, eyes closed, against a Heliconia leaf. was a beautiful adult fringed leaf frog.

All was well with the world.