IN PANAMA 
221 
the saddle and eased Chiquita up a sharp rise by twisting my fingers 
in her mane. The Commodore, however, by reason of his stoutness, 
could not easily do this, and so sat up. The big mule grew sullen and 
finally, as we forded the Mariato, and climbed its steep, clayey banks, 
he suddenly stopped half way up, shook himself and began to tip 
slowly over backwards. Of course the Commodore slid off over his 
tail, and sat in the river, and an instant later was holding the big mule 
INDIAN TAPPING A CASTILLOA. 
in his lap. I ought not to have laughed, nor should I, had not Chiquita 
turned around and winked at me. 
I had long wished to see how the Indians coagulated the latex of 
the Castilloa by the addition of the juice of the amole vine, and now had 
the opportunity, not once, but many times. Usually the coagulation 
is done in a hole in the ground ; if, however, they are very careful, and 
are possessed of an axe, they cut a trough out of a “balsa 7 ’ log and use 
that. When there is sufficient milk for coagulation, a bunch of vines is 
gathered, folded together, and pounded on a log with a heavy billet 
