time, for I was now getting so weak that I could scarcely climb the banks upon with great cordiality, and gave us quarters in a new house he was building for himself.

which the towns are situated. Father Valdivia received us

The new settlement had not yet a name; Ijurra wished it called Echenique, after the new president; while I insisted on "Ambiyacu," as being Indian and sonorous. The population already numbered three hundred and twenty-eight; almost all the people of Pebas having come over. The inhabitants are principally Oregones, or Big Ears, from the custom of introducing a bit of wood into a slit in the ear and gradually increasing the size of it until the lobe hangs upon the shoulder. They have, however, now discontinued the custom, and I saw only a few old people thus deformed.

They are fishermen, and serve as peons; but their condition seems better than that of the inhabitants of the other towns on the river, which is doubtless owing to the presence and exertions of the good priest, who is very active and intelligent.

Visited Pebas in the afternoon. We found it nearly abandoned and overgrown with grass and weeds. We saw some cattle roving about among the houses, which were fat, and otherwise in good condition. The town is situated immediately on the banks of the river, which is here unbroken by islands, three-quarters of a mile broad, and apparently deep and rapid. We carried over to the new town specimens of black clay slate that crops out in narrow veins on the banks, and made a fire of it, which burned all night, with a strong bituminous smell.

November 10.-I gave Arebalo the message sent him by Padre Calvo, which was a request that he would send the Sarayacu men back in the larger canoe that we had brought down for that purpose. He, however, was careless in the matter, and two of them went up the river with a trader, and one down. The others started back in the canoe; but much to my surprise, and even regret, I found in the evening that they had returned, turned over their canoe, sold their pots and other utensils to Arebalo, and expressed their determination to go down the stream. They said that if I would not take them they would go with any body that would. I of course was glad to have them, and I quieted my conscience in thus robbing Father Calvo by the reflection that if they went with me to the end of my voyage, I could give them my boat and fit them out for the return; whereas, if they separated, they might never go back. I think that Arebalo winked at their conduct in returning, because he and the padre were busy with their new town, and did not wish to furnish me with men of their own. But I

think we are all culpable. The peons were culpable for not going back; I was culpable for taking them further; and Arebalo was culpable for permitting it; and thus it is that the population of Sarayacu diminishes, and the friars are cheated out of the hard-earned fruits of their labor.

November 15.-Ijurra and I went with the padre to visit his mission of San José of the Yaguas. This is a settlement of Yaguas Indians, of two hundred and sixty inhabitants, about ten miles in a N. E. direction from Ambiyacu, or (as I find by a letter received from Ijurra since my return home) from Echenique.

San José is reached by a path through the woods over a rather broken country. There were two or three rivulets to pass on the road, which have pebbly beds, with black slate rock cropping out of the sides of the ravine-the first stones I have seen since leaving the Pongo of Chasuta. The soil is dark clay, and deeper than I have seen it elsewhere on the river. Birds of a brilliant plumage occasionally flitted across our path, and the woods were fragrant with aromatic odors.

The Yaguas received their priest in procession, with ringing of the church bell and music of drums. They conducted him, under little arches of palm branches stuck in the path, to the convento, and politely left us to rest after the fatigue of the walk. These are the most thorough-looking savages in their general appearance and costume, though without anything savage in the expression of their countenances, which is vacant and stupid. Their ordinary dress consists of a girdle of bark around the loins, with a bunch of fibres of another kind of bark, looking like a swab or mop, about a foot in length, hanging down from the girdle in front and rear. Similar, but smaller bunches, are hung around the neck and arms by collar and bracelets of small beads. This is the every-day costume. On festivals they stain all their bodies a light brown, and on this ground they execute fantastic devices in red and blue. Long tail-feathers of the macaw are stuck in the armlets, reaching above the shoulders, and a chaplet, made of white feathers from the wings of a smaller bird, is worn around the head. This generally completes the costume, though I did see one dandy who had stuck short white feathers all over his face, leaving only the eyes, nose, and mouth exposed.

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The curaca, and some one or two of the Varayos, wore frocks and trousers; but I was told they had the national costume underneath these. The dress of the women is a yard or two of cotton cloth rolled around the hips. They are strong people for drinking and dancing, and hate work.

Their houses are peculiar. Very long, slender poles are stuck in the ground opposite each other, and about thirty feet apart; their ends are brought together at the top, forming a Gothic arch about twenty feet high. Similar poles, of different lengths, are planted in front of the openings of the arch, and their ends are brought down and lashed to the top and sides of the openings. They are secured by cross-poles, inside and out, and the whole is thickly thatched to the ground, leaving two or three apertures for entrance. The house looks, on the outside, like a gigantic bee-hive. On the inside, small cabins of cane are built at intervals around the walls, each one of which is the sleeping-room of a family. Four or five families generally occupy one house, and the middle space is used in common. This is never cleaned, nor even levelled, and is littered with all manner of abominations. There is a puddle of water before each door; for, from the construction of the house, the rain, both from the heavens and the roof, pours directly into it.

After evening service, the Indians went off to their houses to commence the festival. They kept the drums going all night, and until 10 o'clock next morning, when they came in a body to conduct us to mass. Most of them were the worse for their night's debauch, and sat upon the ground in a listless and stupid manner; occasionally talking and laughing with each other, and little edified, I fear, by the sacred ceremony.

I was annoyed at the poverty of the church, and determined, if I ever went back, that I would appeal to the Roman Catholics of the United States for donations. The priestly vestments were in rags. The lavatory was a gourd, a little earthen pitcher, and a jack towel of cotton; and it grieved me to see the host taken from a shaving box, and the sanctified wine poured from a vinegar cruet.

After mass, and a procession, the Indians went back with us to the convento, and entertained us with music whilst we breakfasted. It was well that the drums were small, or we should have been fairly deafened. There were six of them, and they were beaten without intermission. One fellow dropt to sleep, but we gained nothing by this, for his neighbor beat his drum for him. Nearly the whole male population were crowded into the convento. The breakfast was furnished by the Indians; each family contributing a dish. The old women were proud of their dishes, and seemed gratified when we partook of, and commended them. They continued their frolic all day and night.

On Monday we visited the houses of the Indians to see what curiosities we could get. We found the men stretched in their hammocks,

sleeping off the effects of the masato; and the patient, much-enduring women at work twisting chambira for hammocks, or preparing yuccas or plantains to make drink for their lords. We could get nothing except a hammock or two, and some twisted chambira to make me a lead line. The Indians had hidden their hammocks; and we had to go poking about with our sticks, and searching in corners for them. The reason of this was that most of them owe the padre; and this paying of debts seems as distasteful to the savage man as to the civilized.

The only article of manufacture is a coarse hammock, made of the fibres of the budding top of a species of palm, called chambira in Peru, aud tucum in Brazil. The tree is very hard, and is defended with long, sharp thorns, so that it is a labor of a day to cut a "cogollo," or top; split the leaves into strips of convenient breadth; and strip off the fibres, which are the outer covering of the leaves, and which is done very dexterously with the finger and thumb. A "top" of ordinary size yields about half a pound of fibres; and when it is reflected that these fibres have to be twisted, a portion of them dyed, and then woven into hammocks of three or four pounds weight, it will be seen that the Indian is very poorly paid for his labor when he receives for a hammock twelve and a half cents in silver, or twenty-five in efectos.

The women twist the thread with great dexterity. They sit on the ground, and, taking two threads, which consists of a number of minute fibres, between the finger and thumb of the left hand, they lay them, separated a little, on the right thigh. A roll of them down the thigh, under the right hand, twists each thread; when, with a scarcely perceptible motion of the hand, she brings the two together, and a roll up the thigh makes the cord. A woman will twist fifty fathoms about the size of a common twine in a day.

The Indians brought me some few birds; but they were too drunken and lazy to go out into the forest to hunt rare birds, and only brought me those that they could shoot about their houses.

The climate of San José is very agreeable. It seems drier and more salubrious than that of Pebas; and there are fewer musquitoes. The atmosphere was very clear for the two nights I spent there; and I thought I could see the smaller stars with more distinctness than I had seen them for a long time.

The history of the settlement of this place is remarkable, as showing the attachment of the Indians to their pastor and their church.

Some years ago, Padre "Jose de la Rosa Alva" had established a mission at a settlement of the Yaguas, about two days' journey to the northward and eastward of the present station, which he called Sta.

Maria, and where he generally resided. Business took him to Pebas, and unexpectedly detained him there for fifteen days. The Indians, finding he did not return, reasoned with themselves and said, "Our father has left us; let us go to him." Whereupon they gathered together the personal property the priest had left; shouldered the church utensils and furniture, even to the doors; set fire to their houses, and joined the padre in Pebas. He directed them to the present station, where they builded houses and established themselves.

Our little padre has also considerable influence over them; though, when he will not accede to all their demands, they contrast his conduct with that of Father Rosa; call him mean, get sulky, and won't go to

mass.

It is sad to see the condition of the Peruvian Indians. (That of the Indians of Brazil is worse.) They make no progress in civilization, and they are taught nothing. The generally good, hard-working, and wellmeaning padres, who alone attempt anything like improvement, seem contented to teach them obedience to the church, observance of its ceremonies, and to repeat the "doctrina" like a parrot, without having the least idea of what is meant to be conveyed. The priests, however, say that the fault is in the Indian-that he cannot understand. Padre Lorente, of Tierra Blanca, thought he had his flock a little advanced, and that now he might make some slight appeal to their understanding. He accordingly gathered them together, and exhibiting a little plaster image of the Virgin that they had not yet seen, he endeavored to explain to them that this figure represented the Mother of God, whom he had taught them to worship and pray to; that She was the most exalted of human beings; and that through Her intercession with Her Son, the sins and crimes of men might be forgiven &c. The Indians paid great attention, passing the image from hand to hand, and the good father thought that he was making an impression; but an unlucky expression of one of them showed that their attention was entirely occupied with the image, and that the lesson was lost upon them. He stopped the priest in his discourse, to know if the image were a man or a woman. The friar gave it up in despair, and fell back upon the sense-striking ceremonial of the church, which I think (humanly speaking) is far better calculated to win them to respect and obedience, and thus advance them in civilization, than any other system of religious teaching.

The mind of the Indian is exactly like that of the infant, and it must grow rather by example than by precept. I think that good example, with a wholesome degree of discipline, might do much with this docile people; though there are not wanting intelligent men, well acquainted