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.
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