On some occasions, marked with a red letter on the calendar, canoes
may be seen coming down the Itecoahy River, decorated with leaves
and burning candles galore. They are filled with enthusiasts who are
setting off fireworks and shouting with delight. They are devotees of
some up-river saint, who are taking this conventional way of paying
the headquarters a visit.

The priest, who occupies himself with saving the hardened souls of
the rubber-workers, is a worthy-looking man, who wears a dark-brown
cassock, confined at the waist with a rope. He is considered the
champion drinker of Remate de Males. The church is one of the neatest
buildings in the town, though this may be because it is so small as
to hold only about twenty-five people. It is devoid of any article
of decoration, but outside is a white-washed wooden cross on whose
foundation candles are burned, when there is illness in some family,
or the local patron saint's influence is sought on such a problem as
getting a job. The religion is, of course, Catholic, but, as in every
case where isolation from the source occurs, the natives have grafted
local influences into their faith, until the result is a Catholicism
different from the one we know.

The administration of the town is in the hands of the superintendent,
who is a Federal officer not elected by the villagers. His power is
practically absolute as far as this community is concerned. Under
him are a number of Government officials, all of whom are extremely
well paid and whose duty seems to consist in being on hand promptly
when the salaries are paid.

The chief of police is a man of very prepossessing appearance, but