Governor Pulido, so it was rumored, had imposed a new tax on all rubber collected in the district, and had come to San Fernando to personally collect the extortion. Naturally, there was a good deal of dissatisfaction, and one night, just after we had been provided with a canoe and secretly advised to leave as soon as possible, the storm broke. A band of men, said to be under the leadership of one Colonel Funes, an Indian and the most notorious man in the district, attacked the town, killed the governor, and practically the entire male population, and rifled the shops and dwellings. If one may believe the tales of the few who escaped the brutalities committed that night, the deeds rival those of the most barbaric ages. Perhaps some of those who perished deserved their fate, others assuredly did not; but it is a fact that government offices had been conducted abominably. In the post-office, for example, stamps were sold for twice their face value, and if one did not purchase them there and place them on the letters in full view of the postmaster, the mail was destroyed. A physician who chanced to be there, named La Page, and who apparently belonged to the military organization as he wore the regulation uniform, tried to collect over four hundred dollars gold for a few injections of quinine; and so the robbery went on until the whole band was exterminated. Having engaged a captain with some experience on the Upper Orinoco, and a crew, we on February 3 loaded the low _batelão_ and started on our mission, reaching a point called _Puerto Ti Ti_ that night; from this spot a wide trail leads through the magnificent forest to the clearing wherein stands San Fernando. For six days we made slow but steady progress up the river, and then entered the formidable _Raudal de Santa Barbara_, which extends across the entire delta of the Ventuari.