The last white men these Amazon hunters killed were three loggers on the Quixito River. The Korubo go out from time to time to collect some of the enemy’s souls, to honor their dead and revenge them. Their hunting party begins on a low heat. A vegetable resin is the aromatic fuel for the hunting session to come. The weapon which defines them as a people, the club, is set aside for the moment. They sit on top of it, relaxed, before the cameras. The smoke, is the fragrant curtain of this centuries-old theater.