The stage was set in the middle of the patio of a large house.  The boy insisted that we would be late, and so we went at 7:15, although the bill announced the hour as 8.  The spectators brought their own chairs with them.  Except a few youngsters, no one arrived before 9, and the curtain at last rose at a quarter before eleven.  Among the last to arrive was the presidente and his party.  He was resplendent in a cape of crimson velvet with brilliant yellow facings.  Hardly was his party seated, when we were politely invited to sit with them.  Three acts were rendered, and while waiting for the fourth, one of the party declared that there would be eleven more.  This gave the presidente an opportunity to relate an experience of his own.  On one occasion, after watching a play from seven in the evening until four in the morning, the stage broke down; the management appeared and apologized regarding the accident, particularly, since some twenty acts were still to have been rendered.  Our play, however, turned out to have had but eight acts, and one of these was omitted.  When it should have been given, the whole troupe appeared upon the platform; the manager announced the reason why the act would not be given, but promised that on the following Sunday, in another play, an extra act should be inserted, in order that all might receive the full value of their money.  Our play ended at one, when the audience dispersed.

Needing but two more subjects, we looked about Chilchota the next day, hoping to find indians from the more remote villages, who might permit their busts to be made.  Two excellent cases were found.  The last was a man from Carapan, the most remote of the eleven towns.  He was a man of forty years, whose father accompanied him, and both were for a long time dubious about the operation.  Finally, however, consent was given and the bust was made.  As he arose and dressed to go, I said, “Did I tell you the truth?  Did the operation hurt you, or did it not?  Was there a reason why you should not have your bust made?” He promptly answered, “Sir, you told me truth; the operation did not hurt me and there surely is no harm in it; but, sir, you can hardly believe what an excitement this work has caused in our town.  Yesterday, in the market-place at Chilchota, there were more than twenty men from Carapan who carried weapons in their clothing.  We had selected leaders and arranged signals, and at the first sign of an attack from your party, we were prepared to sell our lives dearly.”

It was a work of time to fill the moulds and pack the busts.  Before we were ready to start upon our journey, it was half-past four in the afternoon.  True wisdom would have suggested waiting until morning.  Time, however, was precious, and I hoped to make Cheran that night; consequently, though against the advice of many, we started out, with eight leagues to go, over a road with a bad reputation, and at some points difficult to traverse.  For a little distance,