CHAPTER XIX

AMONG THE YURACARÉ INDIANS OF THE RIO CHIMORÉ

True to his promise, Padre Fulgencio sent the Indians to Todos Santos, and on the morning of August 2 we packed into canoes such of our equipment as was necessary for the trip and started across the brown water of the Chaparé.

On the other side of the river there was no clearing; the trees grew down to the water’s edge, and the moment the canoes were left behind we plunged into the perpetual gloom of the forest.

An indistinct trail led into the heart of the jungle. The Indians adjusted our belongings on their backs, securing them with broad strips of bark placed across the forehead; then they set out at a good pace, a number of women and children carrying boiled yuccas and plantains, trudging at the rear of the procession.

There was not much undergrowth, but the ground, from which there is little evaporation on account of the dense canopy overhead, was very muddy. Every few rods we came to a deep streamlet which had to be crossed on the trunks of fallen trees; some of these slimy bridges were sixty feet long and almost impassable to us, but the Indians strode across as unconcernedly as geckos. Half-way to the mission the Indians stopped for lunch and a short rest, and by noon we reached the edge of the clearing, having covered a distance of twelve miles.

After a tramp of half a mile through weedy fields of maize and yuccas, we reached the mission-buildings--a few dozen low grass huts clustering around an open square. At one end rose two structures of large size which served as the church and general meeting-place. Near the centre of the clearing a stately cross had been erected, hewn from the heart of a giant ceiba.

The priest was delighted to see us and spared no effort to make us comfortable. We were soon installed in a room of one of the buildings which served as a boys’ dormitory, and a short time later started out to inspect our surroundings.

At first the Indians were reticent and would peer at us from a distance. This was true particularly of the children, but as the days wore on we made friends with them, and from both the people themselves and the priest we learned a great deal about their history and habits.

The name Yuracaré, according to D’Orbigny, was given to them by the Quechuas, and means “white man”; this is most inappropriate, as they are of a decided brown color, although perhaps averaging lighter than the Quechuas. They were first discovered by Viedma in 1768.

At the present time, at least, the Yuracarés are a people of the hot, humid lowlands. Those who have not been captured and brought to the missions, or who escaped the unenviable fate of having been taken from their forest home by private “slaving expeditions,” live along the smaller branches of the streams, which eventually find their way into the Mamoré; this includes particularly the Chaparé, Chimoré, the Ichilo, and the Isiboro.

There were about four hundred Indians residing at the mission. Although attempts have been made intermittently to civilize these people for more than a hundred years, there were long intervals when the work had to be abandoned, and the families naturally returned to their homes in the wilderness. Nearly all of the present aggregation had been brought together during the last few years. Newcomers are added to their number frequently. The priest, learning of other families far up some unmapped _quebrada_ or streamlet, takes a few of the men who have learned to place confidence in him and whom he trusts, and starts forth on long canoe voyages in search of them. They approach the hidden dwelling suddenly, surround it, and persuade the occupants to accompany them immediately, giving them only an hour or two in which to collect their few belongings. Occasionally the Indians whom they seek learn of the approach of the emissaries and hide before their arrival; then the priest returns to the mission, his long trip having been made to no purpose. When, should the expedition prove to be successful, the families have departed to the waiting canoes, their huts are burned and the plantations destroyed. Knowing that neither home nor food have been left behind, they are not so apt to run away from their new quarters and go back to their old dwelling-places. I heard of no instance where they resisted this deportation.

The Yuracarés are a tall, well-built people of a rather docile disposition; however, the older generation never wholly becomes reconciled to the new mode of life, and remains at the mission only for reasons which I will explain later.

In their wild state they live in small family parties, obtaining their subsistence from the forest, which abounds in game, and from their fields of yuccas. Their native costume, a long, shirt-like garment called _tipoy_, is made from the fibrous bark of a tree; at the mission this has largely been replaced by cotton clothes. Each family has been provided with a separate hut of adequate size, where the parents and very small children live. The boys and girls over five or six years of age are under the constant supervision of the priest, and attend his classes; at night they sleep in separate locked dormitories, which prevents their returning to their homes, and also keeps the parents from running away, as they will not leave without their children.

Padre Fulgencio also explained that this kept them from observing and copying the customs of their elders. He recognizes the impossibility of reclaiming the forest-reared savage, and devotes practically all his efforts to the younger generation.

The Indians marry at an early age, the boys at sixteen and the girls at fourteen. In their wild state each family rears four or five children; at the mission never more than two, and frequently none at all. Should the first-born be a girl, she is permitted slowly to starve to death. The priest has inflicted severe punishment upon them in his efforts to break this custom, but so far all his work has been in vain.

As far as possible they are discouraged in the celebration of their native festivals, but it frequently occurs that the entire populace appear with faces gayly decorated with black and blue dots, and all join in weird songs and dances, the purpose of which remains a secret, as they cannot be induced to tell. They worship no divinity, being in this respect in a class almost by themselves.

Food at the mission is abundant. The clearing comprises several hundred acres and is planted in maize, rice, yuccas, plantains, and sweet potatoes. Like most savages, they have an intoxicating drink, made of the boiled root of the yucca. The women dig great quantities of it, peel and thoroughly cook it, after which a certain per cent is chewed and expectorated into a huge earthenware jar; the remainder is mashed and thrown in also, and water added. The following day fermentation has started and the greenish yellow liquid is ready for use.

At the mission the Indians have learned the use of salt, and this fact perhaps as much as any induces them to remain, for deprived of it they cannot long exist. A small amount is given to each individual at stated periods--only just enough to supply his wants until time for the next distribution. There are instances on record where families have escaped and gone back to their nomadic life for eighteen months, then returned voluntarily to promise future obedience, so great was their craving for salt.

The rites attending the death and burial of a man are among the curious and persisting ceremonies of the Yuracarés. When the husband dies the wife removes all her wearing apparel and casts herself upon his body, where she remains weeping and lamenting until the time of the funeral, which is a day or two later. All the women squat in a circle around the deceased, raise their voices in sorrowful wails, and recount the heroic deeds and good characteristics of the dead. The men drink _casire_ and dig a deep hole in the ground; when the time for the burial arrives the body is carefully deposited therein, together with all his possessions, and the wife’s clothing is placed on top, after which the earth is thrown in.

The weapons of this tribe consist entirely of bows made of _chonta_-palm wood, five or six feet high, and various kinds of arrows. The shaft of the latter is always composed of slender bamboo, but the points vary greatly; thus for large game there is a long double-edged blade of another variety of bamboo; slender, barbed points of _chonta_ are used for birds, and a long, sharp spike of palm-wood for fish. They are wholly ignorant of the use of the deadly _curare_ poison.

We were fortunate in timing our visit to the Chimoré for the dry season. Additions were being made to the already large areas under cultivation, and for this purpose the Indians were cutting down forest. They were required to work four days each week, the remaining three being devoted to fishing and hunting. All the men and boys participated in this work and seemed to enjoy it thoroughly. At first the undergrowth was removed; this naturally led to the discovery of many strange animals, all of which were promptly brought to us for examination. The number and variety of snakes was astonishing; even after having spent years in a similar type of country, I had never suspected that so many existed, which shows how inconspicuous they are until one actually goes over the ground with a comb, as it were. They captured green boas, several species of the fer-de-lance, and many others which we did not recognize. Some of them were poisonous, and others were innocuous. Among the former was one which in appearance closely resembled the green boa, but its attitude was defiant and even aggressive; examination showed that it possessed long fangs. One day several of the men came running into our room and shouted “_Pisisi_.” We followed them to the clearing, and found that they had discovered a huge bushmaster coiled under a log. They tried to drive the reptile out with long poles, but it refused to move; finally the priest pulled the enormous creature bodily from its hiding-place with the aid of a hooked stick; it was very sluggish and made no attempt to strike. After shooting it we found that it measured nearly seven feet in length, with a diameter of five inches. The fangs, over an inch long, emitted about a tablespoonful of yellowish poison.

The bushmaster, called _surucucú_ in Brazil, is truly a terrible creature. It grows to a length of ten feet or more, and attains a great thickness. A snake of that size has fangs an inch and a half long and injects nearly a tablespoonful of poison at a single thrust. The ground-color is reddish yellow crossed by black bands, sometimes forming a series of X’s along the back. It does not take kindly to captivity and dies of starvation after a few months of confinement. It is one of the few snakes which are supposed to incubate their eggs. After selecting a hole in the ground or in a stump the reptile lays a dozen or more eggs; then it coils up on top of them and does not leave the vicinity until they hatch; at such times it is very irritable, and will strike with deadly results any creature which disturbs it. The poison acts rapidly, and I heard of a case where an Indian died in less than half an hour after having been bitten.

There were also small brown salamanders and lizards with spiny backs that resembled horned toads. Perhaps the rarest catch of all was a splendid example of the curious cane-rat (_Dactylomys_), an animal seldom encountered on account of its rarity and secretive habits. It resembles a large rat, being twenty-five inches long, and of a dark-gray color; the toes are divided into pairs in order to enable it to easily climb slender stalks, and instead of claws it has nails. The pupils of the eyes are elliptical, like a cat’s; when annoyed it uttered a hoarse scream, a sound occasionally heard at night, but which we did not heretofore recognize.

After the brush had been removed for the distance of a hundred yards or more from the edge of the clearing, the Indians began to cut down the trees; some of these were of enormous size, especially the ceibas; one that I measured was twenty-five feet through the base, counting the supporting, bracket-like roots, and fifteen men hacked at it at the same time. When the tree fell they set up a wild cheering and took great delight in watching this monarch of the forest tumble to the ground.

Three days of each week were devoted to hunting and fishing. Usually the Indians went many miles away, in small parties, returning promptly at the expiration of their time. The children rarely accompanied them, and then only after having obtained special permission from the priest. Upon their return they brought baskets of fish and meat--enough to last them until their next journey into the wilds. Nearly all fish and game were taken with bow and arrow. To secure the former they selected a small creek up the shallow water of which huge shoals of fish went to feed, and then shot them. After a sufficient supply had been obtained they erected a framework of sticks, built a fire under it and slowly roasted and smoked them; later they were packed in baskets between layers of green leaves and taken home. They also brought numbers of freshly killed animals for our examination, for in keeping with his promise Padre Fulgencio had announced from the pulpit that all creatures taken by them were to be shown to us first, and we were permitted to select any that were of scientific value. In this manner a number of animals new to us were added to the collection.

The curl-breasted toucan (_Beauharnaisia_) is one of those birds of the Amazonian basin which is seldom seen by travellers, or even naturalists, who make every effort to learn something of its habits. Bates records having seen a number during his eleven years of exploration, and on one occasion he was attacked by a flock after he had wounded one of them. We therefore considered it an unusually good streak of fortune to find a large flock inhabiting a section of the forest several miles from the mission. They were wary, nervous creatures, and spent their time in the top of tall trees from which one of our men succeeded in shooting several with arrows before the remainder took alarm and flew away; they never returned to the locality. The bird is black above, with yellow underparts barred with black; the feathers on the top of the head are flattened and curled, resembling shining scales, and are drawn together to form a ridge. On the throat and breast the brilliant yellow feathers are tipped with glossy black dots, resembling beads of jet. Unfortunately they were not nesting, but the Indians reported having found the two white eggs in cavities in the taller trees. Another bird not frequently encountered is the giant frogmouth (_Nyctibius_), which, while not so rare, perhaps, is seldom seen, as it is nocturnal in habits and spends the days squatting horizontally upon some thick branch, where it resembles a gray lichen, or is altogether invisible. When the time for domestic cares arrives the bird lays a single white egg on the branch which has served as its perch, or at the junction of a limb and the tree-trunk, without making any sort of a nest. Doubtless many eggs roll off this precarious location and are broken. It feeds upon beetles and insects which are caught on the wing, and some observers say that it also catches small birds; this latter I am inclined to question. One individual that we collected was twenty-two inches long, with an expanse of wings of thirty inches. The mouth when opened measured five inches from tip to tip of the bill, and was three inches wide; but the œsophagus was less than half an inch in diameter, which would prevent it from swallowing anything larger than a humming-bird.

The nights at the mission were always pleasant. The priest usually conducted a short service in the chapel, and then we sat in front of his hut for an hour’s chat, while the children romped and played before being sent to bed. Sometimes one of the boys brought out a queer drum; the ends were made of skin taken from the neck of a jabiru stork. He beat it in slow rhythm, swaying his head from side to side with each low thud. The girls placed their arms around one another’s waists, forming lines of threes, and shuffled forward three steps and back, swinging their bodies all the while; suddenly they would whirl around once, take hold of one another’s hands, and then the long line swept around at such a rapid pace that the individuals at the ends invariably went sprawling some distance away. After tiring of this or any other pastime upon which they were engaged, they lined up and said a “_Buenas noches, Padre_,” in chorus. Then they ran away to the sleeping quarters.

After spending nearly two weeks at the mission we accepted the priest’s invitation to accompany him on a short trip down the Chimoré. Twenty young men and boys were selected as paddlers; they started early one morning, taking all of our personal luggage with them; a large number of girls and women followed soon after, carrying baskets of plantains, yuccas, and other provisions. The missionary, Boyle, and I brought up the rear, and encouraged the few stragglers we met on the way, for the distance from the mission to the river is three miles, through the virgin forest.

The Chimoré is of about the same width as the Chaparé, although the water is in normal times somewhat clearer. It rises far to the south and is formed by the junction of the Blanco and Icona. Some distance below it unites with the waters of the Ichilo, a mighty river flowing from the south, through a solitary and unknown wilderness, and up which Padre Fulgencio had ascended a number of miles on a previous trip. In latitude 15° 30´ South, the Ichilo and Chaparé join, and form the Rio Mamorecillo, which lower in its course is known as the Mamoré.

The meaning of Mamoré, which is a Yuracaré word, is “mother of the human race.” They have a legend to the effect that far away, at the source of the Sajta, which is the beginning of the furthermost tributary of the mighty river, there are three rocks of pyramidal shape that rise in terraces, one above the other, and in the heart of which the stream rises. In the very beginning of things this rock gave birth to the first people, for which reason it is called “Mamoré.” Later the name was also given to the river because its water, teeming with fish, supplied them with food and offered an easy highway for the dissemination of the race.

Arrived at the point of embarkation, the men began to load the five canoes which were waiting, and the women built a fire and cooked lunch. In a short time everything was ready and the canoes moved easily down-stream. The paddlers were adepts at their work, and as a good deal of rivalry existed between the different crews, they kept up an almost continuous race, with the natural consequence that we made good time. The scenery along the Chimoré is exactly like that on the upper courses of the many rivers of tropical South America; there is the same monotony of the yellow water highway, flanked by walls of deepest green. One thing that impresses the traveller as much as any other is the immensity of the silent, uninhabited areas; and also their comparative worthlessness. For days and even weeks one may enter deeper and deeper into the heart of the undefiled wilderness, and see always the same dark forest, the hurrying, mysterious streams, and the rafts of low, threatening clouds; hear the annoying buzz and feel the poisonous sting of the insect swarms, and swelter in the humid, enervating climate. The greater part of this country can never be cultivated to any extent, as the annual floods cover it to a depth of many feet; there are very few eminences safe from the inundations, and these are of inconsiderable size. The person who pictures the untrodden tropics as a paradise of fruits and flowers, teeming with gorgeous-colored creatures and inhabited by tribes of gracious Indians whose one desire in life is to serve the traveller or explorer, has yet to cut his eye-teeth in the field of exploration.

Our Indians were all well armed and frequently took long shots at some of the creatures that ventured to show themselves in the early mornings or just before dark. They were expert archers and even shot large birds on the wing as the flocks passed overhead. Occasionally an otter appeared, always a hundred yards or more away, swimming rapidly with only the head showing above the water. These animals were favorite targets, and from my seat in the middle of the canoe I had an unobstructed view of the arrows in flight as they left the bow of the man in front; he did not aim at his prey, but quite some distance above it. At the twang of the bow the arrow sped into the air, ascending slightly at first, and then dropping as it approached the mark; it described a curve exactly like a bullet fired from a rifle, and remained in a perfectly horizontal position during the entire flight.

When making camp on a sand-bank the Indians stuck their bows and arrows in the ground, near the shelters; this prevented their being stepped on and broken. In damp or rainy weather the arrows warped badly, but it was only a few minutes’ work to heat them near a fire and bend them back into alignment.

Tropical rivers are noted for their treachery. One can never be certain of their actions or character, even a few hours hence. We had a striking example of this on the Chimoré. Camp had been made on an extensive sand-bank one day at noon, as we planned to spend a few hours hunting and fishing in the neighborhood. The sun shone brightly and there was nothing to indicate a change of conditions in any manner whatever; but scarcely had the canoes been unloaded and a fire built over which we intended to do the cooking when we were startled by a dull roar that grew louder with each passing second; before we had time to hurriedly gather our belongings and throw them into the canoes a foam-capped, seething wall of water was upon us, sweeping down the river and carrying away everything in its path. As the tidal wave, several feet high, dashed over the sand-bank, the imprisoned air shot up from the great cracks and rents in the sun-baked earth, and set the raging mass of muddy water to hissing and boiling. In a few minutes only the higher mounds of sand projected above the roaring inferno, and against these hungry tongues of water lapped greedily until their bases were undermined. Then the whole mass crumbled and disappeared in the seething flood. Where our peaceful camp had stood but a few minutes before there was now a sea of agitated water. The explanation of this phenomenon is simple: A heavy rain had fallen in the mountains where the tributaries of the river rise, and the torrent of water dashing down the precipitous slopes had rushed into the lowlands. After this the water was so muddy that it was unfit for use without special preparation. In order to secure a supply for drinking and cooking we boiled a quantity of it; the sand was quickly precipitated to the bottom as the temperature rose, after which the clear water could be poured off the top. In some instances the amount of solid matter carried by the water was fully 50 per cent of the total volume.

Animals were not abundant on the river-banks, although we saw a deer or a small flock of curassows at infrequent intervals. If we went into the forest a short distance, however, we were sure to find game in abundance. On one occasion the Indians demonstrated their skill at calling up monkeys. A large troop of cebus and squirrel-monkeys were feeding in the tree-tops, but for some reason the men did not give chase as they usually do; they concealed themselves in the thick lower growth and whistled a few plaintive _kee-oows_. In a short time the animals began to evince a great deal of interest or curiosity, and many of them descended to the lower branches. Then the hunters shot a number with their arrows before the band realized what had occurred and took flight.

Large areas covered with an impenetrable cane-jungle are scattered all along the borders of the Chimoré. The tall stalks rise to a height of fifty feet or more, and are beautiful to look at, but impossible to penetrate until a trail has been cleared with hatchet or machete. The plant resembles the well-known sugar-cane of our Southern States, but grows much taller, and the stems are thin and hard. A large, white, feathery plume crowns each stalk. This plant is of inestimable value to the natives. The long poles are used almost exclusively in constructing their dwellings, and the leaves make an impervious thatch. Practically every stalk is infested with thick white grubs which live in the pith. These are extracted by the Yuracarés, who call them _chata_, and used for bait when fishing. Many runways perforate the matted growth; these have been made by capybaras, agoutis, and numerous other animals. Even tapirs seem to appreciate the protection afforded by the thick cover and resort to it in the daytime, while jaguars noiselessly steal along the paths in the course of their nightly prowls. One night we had an excellent illustration of how useful the cane-plant, or _chuchilla_, as the Indians call it, can be in an emergency. We had landed on a sand-bank rather early in the evening, spurred to this action by rapidly approaching black clouds, flashes of lightning, and the rumbling of distant thunder which bespoke the arrival of a tropical rain-storm. At first it looked as if we should be compelled to endure a thorough drenching, but Padre Fulgencio issued a few orders to the canoemen, and they hurried away to neighboring cane-brakes, with machete in hand; soon they returned, dragging an immense quantity of the plant; four of the strongest poles were firmly planted in the sand to form a square, about fifteen feet apart, and the tops bent over and tied together with strips of their leaves. These served as the corner posts of a shelter. Other stalks were laid across the top to form rafters, and firmly tied. The men then piled many more on top, binding each one to the rafter, until a complete hut had been built; although the height of the roof was fully eight feet, the ragged edges came down to the ground, entirely enclosing the sides and forming a snug retreat against which the elements raged without avail. After the first deluge had subsided other and smaller shelters were built. The Indians enjoyed the experience thoroughly; they threw aside all clothing, built fires over which fish and game were placed to roast, and squatted around the embers in a circle, doubtless indulging in pleasant reminiscences of the days before civilization with its restricting influences, and had come into their care-free existence.

Early next morning we were awakened by the reverberating howls of monkeys. The Indians rushed in a body from their shelters and, snatching up bows and arrows, ran in pursuit. A troop of red howlers had come to the _chuchilla_ near our shelters; we could see none of the animals, but the tops of the canes waving as if agitated by a violent gust of wind told us of their whereabouts. Soon we heard shouts followed by the twang of bows and the snarl of arrows as they ripped through the flesh of the luckless victims. This continued until the creatures disappeared in the interior of the dense jungle, and then the hunters returned, dragging their quarry after them. We were eager to continue on our way, but in view of the efficient and willing service rendered by the men the night before it was decided to wait a few hours and permit them to have a feast. A huge fire was built, and the monkeys, after having been skinned and washed, were set on spits to roast. The Indians crowded around, sang and shouted, and tore off and ate chunks of the half-roasted flesh. In a short time our orderly Yuracarés had returned to the realms of savagery, and were indulging in a performance such as I had repeatedly seen among the wild Nhambiquaras of Matto Grosso.

Lower down we saw numerous islands, some of large size and of a peculiar formation. The river, which had risen so rapidly a few days before, had gone down to its normal level and left these obstructions in the channel exposed high above the surface. A matted mass of logs and branches of which a layer fifteen feet thick protruded above the water, formed the base of the islands; on this soil had gathered to a depth of five or six feet, and supported a luxuriant growth of vegetation. These islands are composed of deposits of driftwood which were left stranded on sand-banks during the season of high water, and while the edges are torn and jagged the force of succeeding floods seems to be of insufficient strength to wash them away. As we paddled along quietly near the banks the priest or the Indians pointed out many interesting and curious plants. One of these is the _palo santo_, or holy tree; it grows to be a great height, but the trunk is comparatively slender. The peculiar name is derived from the fact that it is as carefully guarded as any sacred object should be, but in this instance by myriads of fire-ants, which live in the hollow interior of the trunk. If the tree is struck sharply with a stick the ants pour out in endless files through minute openings. They are vicious insects, and the bite smarts and burns many hours after it is inflicted. The _tacuara_, a species of tall, feathery bamboo, is another interesting plant of this region. When the stalk is cut down the leaves shrivel and dry within a few minutes. Large numbers of cabbage-palms grew throughout the forest. The beautiful, plume-shaped leaves droop in a great umbrella-like mass from the top of a column sixty or seventy feet high; thick clumps of straight, tough roots branch out eight or ten feet above the ground and form a solid support to the stem. A delicious salad is made from the tender leaves, folded up in the bud; or if boiled the flavor is similar to that of asparagus. To secure the bud it is, of course, necessary to cut down a tree which has taken the greater part of a century to mature, but in a region where many millions are growing one is not inclined to be sentimental, and will only bemoan the fact that it requires an hour’s hard work to chop through the steel-like trunk before the coveted morsel is brought down.

The country between the Guapay and Ichilo is probably as little known as any part of South America. This strip of land, covering approximately five thousand square miles, is heavily forested, and is the home of a tribe of savages known as the Sirionós. Judging from the accounts given to us by our canoemen and the priest, they must be a terrible and indomitable race. The Yuracarés fear them greatly, and as we neared the Ichilo they preferred to keep the canoes in the centre of the river and seemed reluctant to land; if they shot at an animal and the arrow missed its mark and dropped in the forest they did not go in search of it; a half-day of careful work is needed to make an arrow, and as a general rule Indians are very particular to hunt for any they may lose; but in this instance they preferred the loss of the arrows to risking their skins in the dense cover.

There were four Yuracarés at the mission, one, a girl of twelve years, who bore unsightly scars--the result of having been ambushed by parties of the Sirionós tribe; I was also told that occasionally some of them are killed.

The Sirionós seem to have no permanent homes and cultivate the ground to a very limited extent, if at all. They are a tribe of wanderers, and roam the forest in small parties, killing game for food. In appearance and stature they are not unlike the Guarayos, but in temperament they are totally different and have successfully resisted every attempt made to subdue them. Their weapons are bows and arrows, the former of great height and so powerful that they cannot be drawn with the arms alone. In order to shoot the Indian throws himself on his back, grasps the bow with the feet and draws the cord with both hands; the arrows, of which the priest had collected a number, are seven or eight feet long and made of wild cane or _chuchilla_. Apparently they are unacquainted with the use of poison.

Probably the Guarayos suffer more at the hands of the Sirionós than the Yuracarés, because the former two tribes come in contact more frequently. Padre Wolfgang, in charge of one of the missions of Santa Cruz de la Sierra, was on one occasion attacked and several of his men were captured. A few days later he found them nailed to trees with numerous long thorns. On another occasion he surprised a party of Sirionós and succeeded in capturing seven; these he took back to the mission, but they proved to be intractable. He found it necessary to tie them to posts in order to prevent them from escaping. They steadily refused food and water, and after a few days four died of starvation and sullenness. The priest took pity on the remaining three and released them.

After five pleasant days crowded with interesting and unusual experiences on the Chimoré we returned to the mission and spent a few days there packing the valuable zoological collections. We then went back to our base on the Chaparé; for this journey we decided to go by way of the Coni, a small stream emptying into the Chaparé, a few miles above Todos Santos. We followed a path through the forest for a distance of three miles, arriving at a large clearing which was planted in sugar-cane; but what surprised us greatly was the fact that the owner was a Quechua, who had deserted his home in one of the high valleys near Cochicancha, and had come to live in the hot tropics. He had constructed a crude wooden mill for expressing the juice from the cane-stalks, erected a still, and was making alcohol. We had gone to the mission with the intention of remaining a week, and filled with many misgivings as to the outcome of our visit; but the good missionary had proved to be one of the most kind-hearted and generous of men imaginable, and more than three weeks had flown before the many and imperative duties ahead forced us to return reluctantly to the port.

Padre Fulgencio walked to the Coni with us, and supplied men and canoes for the six hours’ journey to Todos Santos. His regret at our departure was as genuine as our own, and I look forward with the utmost pleasure to another and longer visit to the mission and the boundless country of the upper Chimoré in the not far-distant future.