In the middle of the afternoon we perceived several canoes coming up the river; finally reaching the port, they disembarked, and we saw that they were the police force that Becerra had told us of. López and I went down to the port to greet the _Corregidor_, Don Gabriel Martínez; what was our amazement when the corporal in charge gave us the pleasing information that four or five days previously, while they had been stopping at an establishment known as Yubinete, a launch had appeared with about forty employees of the Peruvian Amazon Company on board, who had informed the _corregidor_ that he must go to El Encanto, their headquarters, with them. Upon his refusal they had exhibited their arms, and declared that they would take him by force then. Seeing that resistance would be useless, Martínez had ordered his men to wait three days for him, and, if he did not appear at the end of that time, to proceed on up the river. They had not seen him since, and naturally feared that he had been detained.
López asked them to stop over Christmas, and they gladly assented, for the poor fellows, of whom there were eight, were in a lamentable condition. Thin, weak, and emaciated, they looked more like ghosts than men. They were all in rags, without food, without medicines, and suffering from malarial fever of the worst kind. López gave them some food and assigned them quarters under the house, while I gave them the greater part of our quinine. They were accompanied by ten or twelve Cioni boatmen, who, curiously enough, looked quite plump and healthy.
The next day was Christmas, and Perkins was better, so we celebrated the occasion by killing the turtle Don Rogerio had given us. In addition to this delectable dish, the lady of the house made some plantain dessert and several other dainties, which we devoured ravenously. Then López brought out a small barrel of the indispensable _aguardiente_, and everybody, including the sick policemen, their Cioni boatmen, and Perkins and myself, got on more or less of a jag,[90] which lasted all day, and was not interrupted even by the death of one of López' Indians, who, it seems, had been ailing for some time.
The next morning at eight o'clock the policemen set out on their homeward journey. We saw them off, and, returning to the house, spent the rest of the forenoon in taking down a lot of Cioni words, which López was kind enough to furnish us with. This task completed at four o'clock, we had lunch, and after rendering the genial López a small return for his hospitality, Perkins and I set out once more upon our journey down the river.