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We slept on beds, made of boards laid upon sawhorses, in a grain store-room, where rats were running around all night long. The next day, we were again at Mitla. It was a festival day, that of the Conversion of St. Paul the Apostle. In the evening there were rockets, the band played, and a company of drummers and chirimiya blowers went through the town.
After I was seated the three musicians took their places, one played the great huehuetl, a second beat the tambour or ordinary drum, the third performed upon the chirimiya, a shrill wooden pipe. It was the first time we had really heard a huehuetl. The player used two sticks with padded heads, beating with great force in excellent time.
Grandest of all, however, was a globular banner of cloth on which was painted a startling picture of the saint's conversion. All of these were carried high in the air and kept rotating. Behind the standard bearers came a drummer and the player on the shrill pipe or pito chirimiya.
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