Indians in the innocence of their hearts looked on as wives. The order being given to dismiss these concubines (or wives), a few submitted; but the rest, leaving the mission, started cultivating a tract of land in the vicinity. Then the good Fathers, with Montoya at their head, hit on a stroke of genius. Taking the opportunity when the seceding Indians were away gathering their crops, they set fire to their houses and carried off the children and the women,[84] back to the mission. The recalcitrants appeared next day at Santa Maria la Mayor, and were received again into the bosom of the Church. Heresy, also, now and then made its appearance, for two rascals, having built two temples upon two hills, transported to them the skeletons of two magicians long since dead, and the fickle people left the churches empty, and went to worship at the magicians’ shrines. But in this season of sorrow and of care, and whilst the churches in the Mission of Encarnacion were left deserted, Montoya once again showed his determination, and put things right. Not being able to cope alone with the heathen, Father Diaz Taño went to Guayrá, and induced Montoya (still the superior of the reductions in that province) to give his aid. He came, and, having armed some of the faithful, at dead of night attacked the temples and razed them to the ground. In 1631 Montoya and others came in the forests of Guayrá upon the wild Caaguas. These they strove hard to civilize, but, after labouring long, with all their eloquence were able to induce only eighteen to return with them to the Encarnacion. It was ‘with difficulty that they were able to give them a sufficient knowledge of the mysteries of our faith to be able to bestow the rite of baptism.’ It may be that the Caaguas, not having much to occupy their minds, approached the mysteries of our faith in more receptive attitudes than is attained by those whose minds are full. But, anyhow, Montoya, with true prudence, deferred their baptism till just before their death, for a few months of life outside the forests proved fatal to them all. Faith is a wondrous thing, and able to move most things, even common-sense. One wonders, though, why, when the Jesuits learned from experience that the poor Indians invariably died when exposed to the burning sun upon the plains, they continued in their fatal efforts to inflict baptism on the unoffending people of the woods. If it were necessary, it surely might have taken place in their own homes, and the patients then might have been left to chance, to see how the reception of the holy rite acted upon their lives.