We were now in want of cases, and Coyotepec had neither saw, hammer, nor nails; but he gave me some rough boards, on which we all set to work. L'Encuerado and Sumichrast smoothed the planks with the help of two woodman's hatchets, while I cut pegs, all laboring without intermission until the next evening. A little before sunset we had succeeded in making two large and tolerably light boxes, a task which, without proper tools, was more difficult than any one could suppose who had not undertaken it. Sunday, which was Whitsunday, found us quite amazed at our performance. L'Encuerado had succeeded in weaving some mats to cover the cases, and preserve their contents from the damp. About eleven o'clock our host's family assembled in front of the hut; the women and young girls were dressed in red or blue petticoats, with their shoulders covered with embroidered cotton chemisettes: and the younger boys were clothed in a sort of blouse without sleeves. The grandmother was the last to make her appearance, and she had a necklace of very valuable pearls round her neck. The women wore ornaments made of bits of rough coral, and their fingers were loaded with silver rings. "We always assemble together on Sunday at the hour for mass, to say our prayers together," said Coyotepec to me, "and to thank God who covers the trees with fruit, and preserves us in good health." "We are Christians the same as you," I answered gravely. Then every one knelt down, and the old man recited the Litanies and a succession of Ave Marias. After this one of the young girls chanted a canticle, assisted by the others, who joined in. The singer had scarcely finished her hymn, when l'Encuerado, perfectly electrified, entreated the audience not to move, and at once struck up one of his favorite chants. He kept us at least half an hour in the burning sun, till, being tired of kneeling, I made signs to him to leave off. But it was lost labor, for my servant pretended not to perceive me, and only multiplied his gestures and cries, repeating the same verse three times running. "Amen!" at last I cried, in a loud voice, getting up. Every one followed my example; so, being at last set at liberty, I went away, while the Indians surrounded l'Encuerado to congratulate him. I had not yet paid a visit to the ravine, which, situated as it was in the midst of the _Terre-Froide_, yielded the same kind of productions as the _Terre-Chaude_. I called Sumichrast and Lucien, and, under the guidance of Torribio, the Indian who every year drove the donkeys to Puebla, we ascended the course of the stream.