The hate that Indians show for nearly all human beings who speak another language, and are considered to be barbarians of an inferior race, often erupts in the missions after years of slumber. A few months before our arrival at Esmeralda, an Indian born in the jungle behind the Duida was travelling with another who previously, having been captured by the Spaniards on the banks of the Ventuario, had lived peacefully in the village or, as they say, 'under the sound of a bell' (debajo de la campana). This latter Indian had to walk slowly because of a fever he had caught in the mission, usually due to a sudden change in diet. Annoyed by this delay his companion killed him and hid the corpse under some thickets near Esmeralda. The crime, like so many others committed among the Indians, would not have been discovered if the murderer had not proposed to celebrate a feast the following day. He tried to persuade his sons, who were born in the mission and were Christians, to accompany him to the jungle and fetch bits of the corpse to eat. The boys had difficulty in stopping him. The family squabble alerted a soldier who found out what the Indians had tried to conceal.

We were received with eagerness by the monks of the hospice. The father superior was away but, notified of our departure from Cumanà, be had taken great pains to ensure our comfort at the convent. There was an inner cloister, typical of all Spanish monasteries. We used this enclosed space to install our instruments and get them working. In the convent we discovered a varied company; young monks recently arrived from Spain before being sent out to different missions, while old, sick missionaries recuperated in the healthy air of the Caripe bills. I was lodged in the father superior's cell, which had a notable library. To my surprise I found Feijòo's Teatro crítico, the Lettres édifiantes, and L'abbé Nollet's Traité d'électricité. Science has progressed to even the American jungles. The youngest of the Capuchin monks had brought with him a Spanish translation of Chaptal's treatise on chemistry, (56) which he intended to study in the isolation of the mission where he was to be abandoned on his own for the rest of his days. I doubt that the desire to learn can be kept alive in a young monk isolated on the banks of the Tigre river; but what is certain, and an honour to the spirit of this century, is that during our long stay in South American missions we never saw the least sign of intolerance.