228 



OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 



a tiny oppossum with fur of richest brown, and no larger 

 than a mouse. The httle creature was unhurt, but played 

 'possum until it recovered from its fear when it made itself at 

 home in a small suitcase. 



When our jolly priest appeared to wish us good-morning, 

 the little Indian lads bowed their bronze figures reverently and 



Fig. 95. Father Gillett and his Indian Boys. 



kissed liis hand. Some of them busied themselves weaving 

 a hammock, while others set the table and later served us at 

 breakfast. Our priest was like tlic genial monk of a mediae- 

 val story. He was delightful with his tribe of small Indian 

 boys, ordering them about in a great voice but with his eyes 

 beaming with affection for them. "Man alive!" he would 

 shout, "bring the finger-bowls!" And to our amazement, 

 the wee naked valet not only knew what finger-bowls were, 



