These boats occasionally bring immigrants from the eastern portions of Brazil, where they have heard of the fortunes to be made in working the rubber, and who have come, just as our prospectors came into the West, hoping to take gold and their lives back with them.  Besides passengers, these boats carry cattle and merchandise and transport the precious rubber back to Para and Manaos.  They are welcomed enthusiastically.  As soon as they are sighted, every man in town takes his Winchester down from the wall and runs into the street to empty the magazine as many times as he feels that he can afford in his exuberance of feeling at the prospect of getting mail from home and fresh food supplies.

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 with a slightly discoloured nose.  His appointment reminded me of that of Sir Joseph Porter, K.C.B., in Pinafore, who was made “ruler of the Queen’s navee” in spite of a very slight acquaintance with things nautical.  Our chief of police had been chef d’ orchestre of the military band of Manaos.  They found there that his bibulous habits were causing his nose to blush more and more, so he was given the position of Chief of Police of Remate de Males.  It must be admitted that in his new position he has gone on developing the virtue that secured it for him, so there is no telling how high he may rise.