Santa Kosa. 201 



at the bows and a diagonal one at the stern, with a foam- 

 ing Scylla on your right and a whirhng Charybdis on the 

 left. But our nervousness gave way to admiration as our 

 popero, or pilot, the sedate governor, gave the canoe a sheer 

 with the swoop of his long paddle, turning it gracefully 

 around the corner of a rock against which it seemed we 

 must be dashed, and we felt like joining in the wild scream 

 of the Indians as our little craft shot like an arrow past 

 the danger and down the rapids, and danced on the waters 

 below. 



In four hours we were abreast the little village of Agu- 

 ano ; on the opposite bank we could see the tambos of the 

 ffold washers. At 5 p.m. we reached the deserted site of 



o 



Old Santa Rosa, the village having been removed a few 

 years ago on account of its iinhealthy location. It is now 

 overgrown with sour orange and calabash trees, the latter 

 bearing large fruit shells so useful to the Indians in mak- 

 ing pilches or cups. In pitch darkness and in a drizzling 

 rain we arrived at New Santa Rosa, and swung our ham- 

 mocks in the Government House. 



Santa Rosa, once the prosperous capital of the Provincia 

 del Oriente, now contains about two hundred men, women, 

 and children. The town is pleasantly situated on the left 

 bank of the river, about fifteen feet above the water level. 

 A little bamboo church, open only when the missionary 

 from Archidona makes his annual visit, stood near our 

 quarters. The Indians were keeping one of their seven 

 feasts in a hut near by, and their drumming was the last 

 thing we heard as we turned into our hanmiocks, and the 

 first in the morning. The alcalde, Pablo Sandoval, is the 

 only white inhabitant, and he is an Indian in every respect 

 save speech and color. His habitation is one of the largest 

 structures on the Napo; the posts are of ehonta-palm, the 

 sides and roof of the usual material — split bamboo and 



