We resumed our march in much better spirits, thanks to this God-send. L'Encuerado filled his cap with them, and walked on bravely, with his head bare. Another half-hour's climbing brought us to the verge of the forest. Suddenly I lost sight of Gringalet. I called him several times, and at last he emerged from a clump of shrubs, with his tail and muzzle wet. Sumichrast rushed in search of the water, and soon cried out to us in a joyous voice—

"A spring! a spring!"

We all tried who could get to it first. Under the foliage of sarsaparilla our companion was kneeling down and catching in his hands a little streamlet of limpid water, which was trickling from between two rocks. With keen enjoyment, he was sprinkling it over his face and arms, an example each of us soon imitated. At last I hurried our party away, for the horrible roaring of the hurricane still seemed to din in my ears, and as yet we had no shelter within our reach. After having filled our gourds, we recommenced our climbing, enlivened by l'Encuerado, who kept on congratulating Gringalet upon his discovery, and promising him, as his reward, a whole series of good dinners.



The hour was now approaching at which we feared that the hurricane would recommence with redoubled violence; so it became highly necessary to select a spot for our bivouac. Moss and lichens here covered the rocks with a variegated carpet, and, in proportion as we ascended the mountain, the cooler air relieved our lungs. At length our ascent came to an end, and we found ourselves on a plateau dotted over with stunted shrubs, distorted and twisted with the winds and storms. Fresh summits rose in front of us, but they were too far off to cause us any fear. Sumichrast halted near three gigantic stones, placed so as to leave a space between them, in which we could encamp, as if in a fortress.



This spot we selected for our bivouac. The wind still blew in squalls, but the increased clearing of the atmosphere gave us reason to hope that we should have nothing more to fear from the hurricane. We all went in search of firewood, and ere long after were enlivened by the gleam of an immense fire.

At sunset, the glittering beams of the sun's very last rays reached our camp. The sky was blue, and the air was fresh, so I abandoned the idea of returning home. Night came on, a fine rain purified the air, and the damp earth breathed forth a wholesome fragrance. Overcome by fatigue, we wrapped ourselves up in our sarapes, and soon fell into a sound sleep.



CHAPTER X.

THE RABBIT.—WILD POTATOES.—A DIFFICULT PATH.—AN EXTINCT CRATER.—HOAR-FROST.—THE TORRENT.—THE FAWN.—THE TETTIGONES.—THE DRAGON-FLIES.

The next day, when I opened my eyes, the sun was shining brightly in a blue sky. I made up the fire, and walked off, with my gun on my shoulder, to try and obtain some kind of game, so as to surprise my companions when they got up. For about a quarter of an hour I traversed tracts of heath which reminded me of my native country, when a too confiding rabbit came frisking along within gunshot, which I knocked over and placed in my game-bag.

On my return all were up, standing round the fire, and they hailed me as a conqueror. The terrible trials of the day before seemed to be entirely forgotten; even Lucien had recovered all his liveliness. L'Encuerado took the rabbit, and in an incredible short space of time had it skinned, and placed to broil on the burning coals.

"Well! what do you think of hurricanes?" asked Sumichrast of Lucien, who was watching him cleaning his gun.

"They are most awful! I should never have thought that the wind, which is invisible, could have blown down and broken up trees as big as that one which almost fell upon us."

"Were you much frightened?"

"Rather; and so were you, for you were quite pale."

"The danger was much greater than you imagined. If the uprooted tree had pitched on our rock, it would have upset it, and crushed us beneath."

"Then the wind must be much stronger in forests than in towns?"

"No; for the hurricane of yesterday probably destroyed entire villages. It was one of those tropical storms which happily only break out at long intervals. Many an Indian is at this moment rebuilding his destroyed hut."

Lucien looked very thoughtful, and went and sat down at the foot of a tree. When I passed near him, I saw he had tears in his eyes.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I was thinking of mamma and my brothers. M. Sumichrast told me that the tempest must have demolished whole villages; so perhaps our home has met with some misfortune."

"Don't be frightened, my dear boy! Thank God! stone walls can generally stand against wind. Besides, this hurricane can hardly have been felt at Orizava. At all events, your mamma has more reason to be anxious about us, for she knows that we are far from shelter—exposed to all its violence."

I kissed poor Lucien, and comforted him as well as I could, assisted by l'Encuerado, who soon afterwards took him off to look after our roast rabbit.

The tochtli, or Mexican rabbit, is different from the European species, although it has the same colored coat and instincts. In fact it is a hare.

"Do you know the family of the animal we are going to have for breakfast?" asked Sumichrast.

"Yes; it is a Rodent."

"Well done; but how did you recognize it to be so?"

"By the absence of canine teeth in its jaws, its large incisors, and its hind legs being longer than its fore legs."

"Come, your memory is good. You should also know that, in Europe, the rabbit, which is nearly allied to the hare, is thought to be a native of Africa. Formerly, the Aztecs used to sacrifice hundreds of these animals to the goddess Centeutl, who is the Ceres of Mexican mythology; and the nobles used to wear cloaks made of the hair of the hare, mixed with cotton. With regard to the larger hare, known farther north as the Jackass rabbit, the Indians generally refuse to eat its flesh, under the pretense that it feeds on dead bodies, a mistake which as yet they have not been persuaded to abandon."

We did justice to our game like guests who have to make up for a forced fast. The meal finished, without further delay our little coterie moved on again. Instead of the abundant and bushy thickets of sarsaparilla, we met with nothing but stunted shrubs. However, as we approached the mountain the vegetation assumed a richer aspect, and the bare rocks no longer protruded through the soil. Here and there, tanagers, with black backs, yellow breasts, and violet-blue throats, fluttered around us; also other variegated birds of the Passerine family. We were just about to begin climbing the slope, when l'Encuerado, whose piercing eyes seemed to see every thing, exclaimed:



"There are some potatoes!"

Lucien ran towards the Indian, who, with his machete, had already cleared away the earth round a small plant with oval-shaped leaves, covered with soft greenish berries. Some wrinkled tubercles were ere long discovered, which we could easily crush between our fingers. This is the origin of the valuable plant for which Europe is indebted to America.

After climbing some time, we came upon a mass of rocks all heaped up in a perfect chaos. Some obstacle or other incessantly obliged us either to jump over or make a circuit so as to get forward. The temperature, however, was refreshing, and rendered our exertions less fatiguing.

The chances of our journey brought us out once more upon the plateau. All the mountain crests we could see were barren, and a profound silence reigned on every side. We stopped to take breath, and the sight that met our eyes impressed us with its stern grandeur. It reminded Sumichrast of the Swiss mountains which he had so often traversed; and some flowers he gathered further recalled his home. While thus occupied, two butterflies fluttered over our heads.

"It is an Alpine species!" eagerly cried my friend.

The locality prevented him from following these capricious insects for any distance: for one moment he leaned over the abyss, bristling up with rocks, and followed, with a longing eye, the two winged flowers which had recalled to him a fleeting image of his fatherland.

A labyrinth of rocks brought us out in front of a stony rampart more than a hundred feet in height, and almost perpendicular. This unexpected obstacle brought us to a halt. How should we make our way over it? Upon examining the spot, we decided to incline towards the left, which seemed to us the most accessible road. In parts the wall diminished in height, but we tried in vain to climb it. A more successful attempt, however, brought us nearly to the top, but not without great fatigue, for sometimes the rock appeared to hang over us. At length, by climbing on to Sumichrast's shoulders, I managed to reach the flat surface above. I hoisted up Lucien here with the lasso; next I drew up Gringalet, who was only too pleased to submit to the operation, and lastly Sumichrast and l'Encuerado. The terrible obstacle was at last overcome; beyond it the ground was, comparatively speaking, level, but covered with stones of a volcanic nature.

We still kept on our way, although it was four o'clock, in the hope of finding some tree at the foot of which we could make our bivouac. L'Encuerado put down his load to climb up a needle-shaped rock, the extraordinary position of which reminded us of the celebrated leaning tower of Pisa. When he had reached its top, the Indian called out to us that he could see a clump of trees. The cold began to inconvenience us and we wanted wood to make our fire, so, plucking up fresh courage, we continued our journey. The distance now traversed was inconsiderable; but the ups and downs and circuits had quite wearied us. Gradually the rocks decreased in size, and were more widely spread; a plain slightly depressed in the centre, dotted here and there with thinly growing thickets, was reached. In the background there was a clump of firs and a glittering lake, quite a liquid oasis hidden in a desert.



It now became highly necessary for us to seek shelter, for our teeth were chattering with the cold. L'Encuerado, having climbed a tree, cut down the wood that was necessary for the construction of a hut; while Lucien broke all the dry branches off, a task in which I helped him. Sunset surprised us ere we had finished our labor. The waters of the lake assumed a dark hue, and the mountain peaks towards the setting sun furrowed the sky with their strangely irregular outlines, and the breeze resounding through the pine-trees produced a solemn and grave chant, a peculiarity which has doubtless given to this species of tree the name of Pinus religiosus. As the rays of the sun died away and the dark shadows covered the sky, the silence became still more profound. Suddenly the last rays of the luminary vanished; the gathering darkness imbued us with an emotion which those only can understand who, like us, had found themselves face to face with some of the grandest emanations from the Creator's hands.

Lucien, too, was subject to the influence of the twofold majesty of darkness and solitude; he was speechless, and looked by turns both at the earth and the sky. The stars appeared glittering in the blue heaven, and were reflected on the motionless surface of the neighboring water. Suddenly a luminous ray seemed to dance over the lake, and then to divide into a shower of sparks. It was the reflection of our fire, to which l'Encuerado had just set a light.

The piercing cold was excessively trying: our sarapes did not seem sufficient to protect us from its influence. Fortunately we had obtained fuel enough to keep up the bivouac fire all night. Our meal, although without meat, was a cheerful one. Each in turn retired to his pine-leaf couch; and soon I alone remained up, not feeling an inclination for slumber.

What a contrast it was! The night before, at this time, we were deafened by the uproarious wind, and the forests echoed with its fearful effects; while we, perfectly helpless, sheltered behind a trembling stone, could scarcely breathe the burning air. Twenty-four hours had hardly elapsed, and a few miles had brought us on to a granite soil where we felt even unpleasantly cold; it was no longer the uproar, but the silence, which awoke in my mind the reveries of loneliness.

We rose before dawn, perfectly benumbed and hardly able to move our lips. L'Encuerado stirred up the fire so as to get the coffee ready. The first ray of light showed the ground covered with a white shroud of bright hoar-frost. Lucien had never seen this phenomenon before, and was never tired of admiring it. Sumichrast explained to him that the drops of dew, which every morning may be seen glittering on the grass in hot countries, freeze in situations of great altitude, and produce those beautiful transparent globules which, owing to the refraction of light, assume so beauteous an appearance.

The rays of the sun warmed us but little, so I hastened our preparations for departure. After skirting the edge of the lake, we once more found ourselves among rocks. The summit which we had traversed was doubtless the crater of some extinct volcano. I took a farewell look at the gigantic semicircle, edged with mountain crests, ere commencing a journey quite as difficult as that of the day before, through the immense stones which had been vomited forth by the burning mountain. More than once we got into a cul-de-sac, and we sat down utterly discouraged.

For the last time I examined the horizon. We were now standing on the highest summit of the Cordillera; opposite us, as far as we could see, rose verdure-clad peaks, which gradually diminished in height. We were again about to meet with tropical vegetation, and should ere long reach the plains and forests of the Terre-Chaude. The way seemed direct and easy; but how many obstacles must be overcome, how many valleys must be crossed, ere we could reach our destination!

We descended the slope by a giant staircase, each step of which must have been at least seven or eight feet in height. More than once the lasso was called into use; but all obstacles were at last safely overcome. I can not describe the joy I felt upon once more seeing pine-trees. We sought in vain for any traces of the hurricane; this side of the mountain had evidently not been visited by it.

The slope was now more gradual; our pace became faster, and a few oaks were in sight. A rumbling noise made us stop and listen attentively, but l'Encuerado, who was more expert than we were in making out distant sounds, told us that it was a torrent. Squirrels gambolled on the branches as we passed by, and toucans seemed to tempt us to stop; but we were all anxious to reach the waterfall. Ere long, oaks and birches, and afterwards guava-trees, surrounded us on every side. The ground was now level, and in less than half an hour l'Encuerado conducted us to the edge of an immense ravine, at the bottom of which there was a roaring torrent.

It was not long before the steep bank became less abrupt, and we established our bivouac. While we were cutting down some branches, Sumichrast put his finger to his lips and seized his gun. A slight noise was heard in the thickets, and our companion disappeared. We were listening, holding our breath, when we heard the screech as of an owl; we knew it was a call, so l'Encuerado also glided away through the bushes.

"Why did M. Sumichrast call l'Encuerado?" asked Lucien, in a low voice.

"Probably because he has discovered the trail of some animal."

I had scarcely finished speaking, when a movement in the leaves attracted my attention. A fine fox, with an eager look, and its tail lowered, rushed past me. I fired, but without effect, for it bolted off among the trees, followed by Gringalet. Almost at the same moment, a report told me that l'Encuerado had also seen game.

Lucien was very sorry that I had missed the fox; I only regretted having lost a charge of powder, and also having awkwardly put to flight the quarry which was probably being pursued by my companions. I then continued my work of cutting off the branches, and told Lucien to strike the flint and light the fire. Thanks to l'Encuerado's lessons, he managed his work much better than I had expected.

We heard Sumichrast give a call, to which Lucien answered, and the disappointed hunter joined us.

"What did you fire at?" he inquired of me.

"At a fox, which I missed; were you chasing it?"

"No; I caught sight of a doe and its fawn, but I could not get near them."

"And where is l'Encuerado?"

"He wanted to shoot some bird, so as not to come back quite empty-handed."

"Chanito! Hiou! Hiou! Chanito!" we heard shouted in the distance.

"Hallo! hallo!" answered the boy.

And, soon after, l'Encuerado returned, carrying a fawn on his shoulders.

"Oh! what a pretty little creature!" cried Lucien; "why didn't you take it alive?"

"Bullets are the only things that can run as fast as these animals, Chanito."

"What became of the mother?" asked Sumichrast.

"I was not able to get near her; but at all events, we have more than enough meat now, both for to-day and to-morrow."

Lucien took possession of the fawn. He had always longed to possess one of these animals alive. He duly examined the slender legs and tapering muzzle of the poor creature, whose fawn-colored back, dotted over with symmetrically arranged spots, would change in color as it got older.

"Well, Master 'Sunbeam,' in what class will you place this mammal?" asked Sumichrast, addressing Lucien.

"It is not like any of those I know."

"Well, then, you never can have seen goats, cows, or sheep. It is a ruminant, or an animal which has three or four stomachs. Its lower jaw is provided with eight incisors, while the upper jaw has nothing but a cushion or gum."

"That's right enough," said Lucien, opening the fawn's mouth.

"In all ruminants, the food, when swallowed, passes into the first stomach; it is then brought up to be chewed again; this is called 'chewing the cud.' You must often have seen a cow or a sheep sitting quiet in the sun and constantly chewing."

"Yes," replied Lucien, "and l'Encuerado always told me that they had eaten some bitter herb."

"His explanation is about as correct as that given by the Mexicans, who say that an animal which chews the cud is reading the newspaper. Another characteristic of these animals is, that their feet are cloven."

"And they have horns!" cried Lucien.

"Not all of them; for instance, the camel, llama, and musk-deer, are exceptions."

It remained for us to decide how our fawn should be cooked. After a discussion on the subject, we left the point entirely to l'Encuerado, and I made my way down to the bottom of the ravine. Upon lifting up some stones and pieces of bark, I discovered several species of the Carabus family. Lucien caught on a shrub some insects of a very peculiar shape; at the first glance, Sumichrast recognized them as tettigones.

"These insects belong to the Hemeptera family," said he, "therefore they are allied to the bug and the grasshopper; these insects have neither mandibles[O] nor jaws; their mouth is a sort of beak, formed of a jointed tube extending along the breast, which you can see very plainly. This order is a very numerous one, and the two species you have just found are peculiar to Mexico."

"Here is one like a fowl, and another like a canoe."

"You are quite right, and you will meet with others which are still more singular looking."

The appearance of these little creatures pleased Lucien very much, and, as he was letting them run about on his hand, he saw them jump off and disappear. He was just going to return to the shrub on which he had caught them, when his attention was attracted by an immense dragon-fly, commonly called in Mexico the devil's horse, and in France demoiselle. The beautiful insect, after flying round and round, settled on a plant, and was immediately caught in the young hunter's net. The prisoner had greenish eyes, a yellow body, and its wings were dotted over with black and scarlet. It doubled back its tapering body, as if to try and sting the hand which held it, and shook its gauzy wings with a kind of metallic sound. A half-eaten mosquito hung out of its mouth, and, although the dragon-fly was sadly bruised, it continued its meal, much to the amusement of Lucien, who hardly expected to find such tiger-like habits in an insect so elegant in form and so harmless in appearance.

"It is of the order Neuroptera," I said to him; "thus called because of the veins on its four wings. This insect first lives in the water in the form of a larva, in which state it remains a year—it is very much like the insect you are holding, only, all that can be seen of its wings are small swellings, which grow longer each time the animal changes its skin. This swelling is a sort of sheath to the beautiful gauzy wings which distinguish all the Neuroptera, and the dragon-fly in particular."

"What! does the dragon-fly begin its life by living in water like a fish?"

"Yes, and they are quite as voracious in that state as when they are perfect insects. The larva changes to a grub, and greedily devours water-lizards and young fish; after a certain time, which varies according to the species, it rises to the top of the water by crawling up a reed, and remains perfectly motionless, exposed to the rays of the sun; suddenly, the skin covering the head bursts open, and the dragon-fly, spotted with black, blue, and green, takes flight, and loses no time in darting upon the first insect which comes within its reach."

My lecture was interrupted by the cry of "Hallo! hallo!" from l'Encuerado. It was his substitute for a dinner-bell.



FOOTNOTE:

[O] A very hard substance placed immediately under the upper lip, which insects use for cutting and tearing their food.



CHAPTER XI.

A BLUE LIZARD.—THE GUAVA-TREE.—A CATARACT.—NEST OF YELLOW SERPENTS.—A VEGETABLE HELMET.—THE KINGFISHER.—HUNTING WATER-FLEAS.—THE TADPOLE.—A COLLECTION OF WATER-BUGS.

The rice-soup, our every-day fare, was, on this occasion, followed by fawn cutlets broiled on the embers, accompanied by potatoes. This precious tubercle, in its savage state, only reminded us very slightly of its cultivated progeny. The pulp, instead of being floury, is soft, transparent, and almost tasteless. That, however, did not prevent us from eating them, and doing justice to our venison.

While we were smoking a cigar, which was called by Sumichrast, according to circumstances, the calumet of repose, of council, or of digestion, Lucien returned to the shrub on which he had previously found the insects. He collected a great number of these, and also discovered a third species, which was shaped like a triangle, with two horns at its base. He ran to show us these miniature bulls. Afterwards, armed with a long branch by way of a lever, he tried to raise up a decayed root covered with moss. He succeeded to do it, after some trouble, and saw, cowering down among the roots, a beautiful lizard; it had a greenish back, and its mouth and the sides of its body were bright blue; it was a variety which we had never before observed. The little animal, doubtless dazzled by the light, allowed itself to be caught, and then suddenly bending down its head, bit the boy's finger, who at once dropped it. L'Encuerado soon caught the runaway.

"Didn't you know that lizards were harmless?" asked Sumichrast of Lucien.

"That is why they bite, I suppose," replied the boy, shaking his head.

"Yes," said the naturalist, "but you needn't be afraid; its bite is not venomous.

"'This brute is surely not disposed to strife, But you attack it, it'll defend its life.'"

Night came on. A multitude of insects whirled round and round our fire, burning their wings as if they enjoyed it. Lucien wanted to know what attracted so many of these poor creatures to the flame. As he inquired, two or three great beetles suddenly appeared with loud buzzing, and at once precipitated themselves into the burning coals.

"See what comes of giddiness," said Sumichrast. "If since we set out we had walked blindly on without looking where we went, long ere this we should have found ourselves at the bottom of some ravine."

"But these butterflies and beetles throw themselves into the fire on purpose," said l'Encuerado, with the inflexible logic of facts.

"They are not aware that the flame will burn," I replied.

"That's true," murmured the Indian, in a tone of compassion.

Fatigue compelled us to give up our relaxation, and we soon went to sleep in a warm atmosphere, which seemed all the more pleasant when we remembered our sufferings of the night before.

Our slumbers were interrupted toward morning by the frequent cries of a flight of passerines, called "alarum-birds" (despertadores) by the Mexicans. It was hardly light, and, in spite of l'Encuerado's predictions, it had not rained. The light of our fire, when we stirred it, soon drove away our winged friends; but, thanks to their waking us, the first rays of the sun found us all ready to set out. Just as we were going to start, an unforeseen difficulty arose—how to cross the ravine and ford the river? L'Encuerado said that it would be necessary to go up-stream; I, also, agreed with him. Sumichrast, on the contrary, was of opinion that there was much more chance of the banks becoming less steep if we went in the opposite direction; he carried the day, and led the way, cutting a passage through the shrubs with his machete.

As we were determined to skirt the edge of the water, we could not get along without great difficulty. The noise of the torrent, which seemed to grow louder, attracted us towards the forest, where the absence of grass and under-wood enabled us to get on faster. The trees grew farther and farther apart, and we again came upon brush-wood, ere long coming out on to a plain, dotted here and there with guava-trees. These trees furnished us with a quantity of green fruit, of which we were all very fond. L'Encuerado availed himself of this unexpected harvest by filling up all the gaps in his basket with them. The wild guava, a sort of myrtle, which grows naturally in the Terre-Temperee, reaches to a height of several feet. Its fruit, which seldom gets ripe before it is eaten by the birds or larvae, is luscious, highly scented, and full of pips; they have the reputation of being antifebrile and astringent. When the shrub is cultivated, its appearance changes considerably; its branches grow longer, and are covered with leaves which are silvery on the back, and the fruit they yield are as large as lemons, which they resemble in shape and color.

We all put on our travelling gear again; but when l'Encuerado wanted to place the basket on his back, he found he could not possibly lift it up. I helped him, trying all the time to persuade him to throw away half his stock; but he resolutely refused to follow my advice. When he began to walk, he staggered like a drunken man, and at last fell down beneath his burden, and all the guavas rolled out on to the ground.

Our laughter rather hurt the brave Indian's feelings.

"By Jose-Maria!" he cried, holding up his hands towards heaven, "I am getting old. Oh, what a disgrace, not to be able to carry a handful of guavas! In my youth it would have taken three such loads as those to have made me fall down on my knees like a broken-down horse. Poor old fellow!"

L'Encuerado was certainly exaggerating his former strength; but, at any rate, it cut him to the heart to have to throw away so much of the fruit he had gathered, and our insisting upon his doing so quite crowned his vexation. With a view of consoling him, I reminded him that the guavas would spoil in twenty-four hours, and that his basket held more than we could possibly consume.

Sumichrast was walking about twenty steps in front of us, when suddenly he stopped and drew back. When I got abreast of him, my eyes met an immense ravine, at the bottom of which the torrent was rushing with a loud noise. The water was first calm and sluggish, accumulating in a large basin, then it suddenly burst forth against an immense rock and disappeared, roaring and foaming in two columns, which, after uniting, broke into a thousand little cascades. We all wished to visit the bottom of this ravine, in order to enjoy this wondrous sight in all its grandeur.

Before making our way into the brush-wood we put down our insect-cases and game-bags, for the enterprise required our unimpeded agility. As long as we could cling on to the plants and shrubs, the descent was mere child's play; but we soon found ourselves treading on a reddish ferruginous soil, which some great land-slip had exposed. Sumichrast was the first to venture on this dangerous ground, which gave way under him at his third stride. Our companion rolled over the declivity, instinctively grasping the first branches he could reach; but he let go directly, uttering a piercing cry. Fortunately a shrub kept him from falling into the gulf. I planted my feet as deeply as I could in the crumbling soil, so as to be able to help my friend, who, with his face contracted with pain, raised towards me his right hand, which was already red, swollen, and covered with blisters. The branch he had caught hold of in his fall belonged to a gigantic nettle, called by the Indians Mala-mujer, or "bad-woman." This plant only grows on damp banks—"a piece of malice," said l'Encuerado, "adopted in order to play shameful tricks on unsuspecting travellers; towards whom it treacherously stretches out its green stalks and velvety leaves as if offering them assistance."



We felt quite grieved at Sumichrast's suffering; for we well knew by experience the intolerable pain which is produced by the sting of this herb. L'Encuerado took Lucien in charge, while I gave my assistance to the injured man. For some distance we moved along without much difficulty, but very soon a whole forest of nettles stood up in front of us. Lucien and Sumichrast sat down, while the Indian and I, by means of our machetes, opened out a narrow path; at last we reached again the timber land, so we had now almost got out of our difficulties.

The stalks of the nettles, cut off a few inches above the ground, served to give firmness to our footing. But l'Encuerado, always too confident, tripped up, and his right cheek was brushed by some of their leaves; it only needed this to render him perfectly unrecognizable. Although I pitied him, I could not help smiling at the grimaces produced on his sun-burnt visage by the painful stings. Even Sumichrast, when looking at him, forgot his own sufferings.

Under a cypress, we observed five or six snakes, each about a yard and a half long. One, more courageous than the others, remained under the trees and steadily surveyed our party. Gringalet, furious in the extreme, barked and jumped all round the reptile, which, raising its head from the centre of the coil formed by its body, shot out its tongue. Its skin was of a golden yellow, dotted with green spots, and streaked by two almost imperceptible black lines. L'Encuerado called in the dog; the snake then coiled itself up, slowly turning its head in every direction, as if to select the best direction for retreat. Suddenly it unrolled its whole length, exposing to our view an unfortunate sparrow, which was still breathing. Leaving it unmolested, after a few minutes' delay it seized its victim by the head, by degrees the little feathered innocent disappeared, and the snake remained motionless as though exhausted by the exertion.

"Is it a rattle-snake?" asked Lucien astonished.

"No; it is a common snake—that is, a reptile which is not venomous. This one is called by the Indians the Yellow-snake, and, from ignorance, they are in very great dread of them. It is in the habit of climbing trees with great activity, and hunts birds. The statues of the Aztec god of war, the terrible Huitzilipochtli, to whom thousands of men were offered as living sacrifices, had their foreheads bound with a golden snake, and we have every reason to believe that the reptile which we have just seen is that which the Indians thus honored."

A little farther on, Lucien fancied that he saw, stretched out upon the grass, a long white snake. Gringalet, much bolder than usual, seized the reptile in his mouth and brought it to us. But it was nothing but a serpent's skin: I then told the child that all reptiles of this kind change their skin twice a year, and they get out of it as if from a sheath.

We continued our descent, and l'Encuerado, who had taken the lead, suddenly turned back to us with his head covered with an immense vegetable helmet. I at once recognized it to be the flower of a plant I had met with in the neighboring mountains. Nothing could be more splendid than this blossom, which, before it is full-blown, looks like a duck sitting on the water. In a single morning the enormous corolla opens out and changes into a form resembling a helmet surmounted by a crest; the interior of it, lined with yellow velvet, almost dazzles the eyes. The seed of this creeper, the Indian name of which I forget, is flat, and of a heart-like shape, having depicted on one of its faces a Maltese cross.



Even Sumichrast for a moment forgot his injuries while examining this wonderful flower, and Lucien, finding a second, very soon covered his head with it; but the poisonous and penetrating odor exhaled from the corolla made him feel sick, so he soon relinquished this novel head-dress.

A few more steps brought us to the bottom of the ravine, and Sumichrast and l'Encuerado set to work to bathe their stings in the cool water; while I and Lucien sat down together on a rock, washed on one side by the stream, and leisurely contemplated the beautiful scene before us.

In front of us was situated an immense mountain, cleft open as if by the hand of some giant, the sides of which were clad with a carpet of verdure of a thousand different shades. At the bottom, as if for the purpose of stopping up the immense fissure, there was an enormous accumulation of gray and dark-tinted rocks, between which appeared, every here and there, the foliage of some tree, enamelled with flowers. From the midst of the mountain, as if from some invisible cavern, sprung out a large sheet of transparent water, which, although calm and almost motionless in appearance, descended in one fall to a rock which projected in the cataract, like the prow of a ship. As if rendered furious by the shock, and seeming to revel in the uproar, the water, converted into foam, bounded over the obstacle, and fell in two columns, separated by the black point of crag; then, springing with impetuous speed, from step to step, down a gigantic staircase, it entered a receptacle hollowed out like a shell, which received the foaming water, from whence it flowed gently into a basin edged with verdure. The torrent, quieted for a time, resumed its course, and striking against impediments, rolled on from fall to fall, and from valley to valley, until it reached the plains, more than three thousand feet beneath.

This cascade recalled to my memory one I had seen about a year before, when exploring the environs of Tuxtla, in the Terre-Chaude—viz., the Fall of Ingenio—one which would be reckoned among the most celebrated in the world, if access to it was not rendered almost impossible by the wilderness.

The sufferings of our two companions were so much alleviated by the application of water that they soon came and sat beside us. I can not describe the proud enjoyment we all felt in this wild spot. We were face to face with this unknown cascade, which we were, perhaps, the first Europeans to contemplate. Behind us the mountain sides seemed to unite and hem in the bed of the torrent. The sun bathed with its rays that portion which was bordered with large trees, among which kingfishers were skimming about. One of these birds came and perched close to us—its breast was white, its wings black on the upper side, and its head-feathers dark green; its stout, thick-set shape, and its short tail, made Lucien remark that it looked like a malformed creature. Always restless, it almost immediately resumed its abrupt flight over the surface of the water, and disappeared among the windings of the ravine.

Lucien pointed out to me an immense willow, the branches of which, drooping over the water, seemed to have at their ends enormous gourd-shaped fruits. I recognized in them the nests of those beautiful yellow birds, spotted with black, which the Mexicans call calandres. To convince Lucien of his mistake, l'Encuerado threw a large stone into the tree; the missile fell from branch to branch, and more than a hundred frightened birds flew out from their curious retreats. At first they appeared much alarmed; but when this had subsided, they skimmed over the water, or entered their impregnable habitations.



We made our way down the ravine in hopes of finding a resting-place less rugged, and after a long, winding, tedious course, came upon a sheet of calm water, flowing over a bed of sand. The sun was shining full open upon its transparent surface, and, close to the edge, hundreds of flies were whirling about.

"Those are coleopterae," said Sumichrast to Lucien.

"Why do they turn round and round like that?" inquired he.

"To find their food, for they are carnivorous, and require a great deal of nourishment. In France they are commonly called tourniquets, or water-fleas."

Lucien wanted to catch one, but could not succeed; l'Encuerado and Sumichrast joined in the pursuit. At first I amused myself with watching the useless efforts of my companions; but at last, thinking myself cleverer than they, I squatted down also. There we all four were, with our hands in the water, perfectly motionless, and holding our breath, the better to remain motionless. The insects were all in a close mass, and whirling round like a living mosaic, moving in every direction without separating; but however quickly we raised our hands, we all failed in our efforts.

An hour was spent in this way, and even then we should not have given up the chase if the sun had not ceased to shine on the bank, and the insects had therefore moved beyond our reach, so as to be within its influence. Lucien, vexed at their going away, and l'Encuerado, furious at having been conquered by the agile creatures, commenced throwing stones at them with the hope of wounding one. Even in this they did not succeed, so l'Encuerado satisfied himself by calling them fools, a name which, in his opinion, constituted a gross insult.

About twenty tadpoles, swimming in a puddle of water, were taken by Lucien for fish.

"They are frogs," I said to him.

"Where are their feet, then?"

"Under the brown skin, which makes them look like fish; when the time of their metamorphosis arrives, this skin will split all down their back, and a little frog will come out of it. Look at this tadpole I have just caught; you can see the feet through its transparent skin. To-day it is a fish, that is to say, it breathes through gills—those little tufts you see on each side of its head—and perhaps to-morrow it will undergo that metamorphosis which will cause it to breathe through its mouth. The Toltecs, the great nation which preceded the Aztecs in Mexico, counted the frog among their gods."

When putting the tadpole back into the pool, I noticed some whitish insects, which were incessantly rising in jerks to the surface of the water, and diving down again directly. Lucien, astonished at their movements, cried out—

"But, papa, they are walking on their backs!"

"You are quite right; they are hydrocorises, allied to the tettigones, and consequently hemipterae."

The young naturalist was more successful than in his gyrin-hunting, and succeeded in catching two or three of these water-bugs.

"What is the use of their wings?" he inquired.

"Why, to fly with, and to move from place to place."

"Then water-bugs are really able to fly, swim, and walk?"

"Yes; and I'm sure they can see in the dark, too," said l'Encuerado, who, it may be remembered, envied animals this privilege.

"We are certainly justified in thinking so," I answered, smiling, "for they nearly always choose the night for travelling. Take care they don't bite you, for the water-bug bites as hard as its kinsmen of the woods and houses."

A little farther on, Lucien stopped in front of an herbaceous plant, covered from top to bottom with round, flat black insects, speckled with red, and almost resembling mosaic-work. He was very proud of his beautiful discovery, and took hold of two or three of the insects; but feeling their soft bodies give way in his fingers, he threw them down with disgust.

"Oh! what are these horrid creatures?"

"They are wood-bugs," replied Sumichrast; "only they are in the state of larvae, and have no wings."

"What has caused this nasty smell on my fingers?"

"When any one touches these insects, a very strong-smelling yellowish liquid always exudes from them."

Lucien ran off to wash his hands. He rubbed them over and over again, but could not quite get rid of the smell, which seemed to annoy him very much. I concluded from this that in future he would not have many wood-bugs in his collection.

After a long ramble at the bottom of the ravine, we had to return to our starting-point, which was the only side by which we could obtain an exit. We found the cataract perfectly bathed in light. The large upper sheet of water looked like a block of azure-stone, while the spray beneath glittered as if covered with diamonds. Above our heads a rainbow spanned the stream from bank to bank.

I at last succeeded in tearing my companions away from this wondrous scene. We had met with no game, but a great part of our fawn was yet remaining in the basket. Sumichrast was still in pain, and l'Encuerado's face continued much inflamed. We now had to ascend, and we each adopted the greatest precaution while passing the spot where we had seen the serpents. I don't know how we should ever have got up if l'Encuerado had not thought of cutting some branches of dwarf elder for walking-sticks. Above every thing, I wished to keep Lucien from the suffering caused by coming in contact with the Mala-mujer, as the Mexicans call it, and it was with a sigh of relief that I saw him safe and sound out of this cul-de-sac.



CHAPTER XII.

A RELATION OF GRINGALET.—OUR FOUR-FOOTED GUIDE.—A REVIEW OF OUR PARTY.—THE ALLIGATOR-TORTOISE.—THE PHEASANTS.—THE MAGNOLIA.—THE NUTMEG-TREE.—THE BLUE-PLANT.—THE CATERPILLAR.

As the sun was setting, our wisest course was to go back to our bivouac of the evening before, and to postpone until the next day the discovery of the passage we had sought in vain. Upon the whole, the sight of the cataract had amply repaid us for our useless walk.

Our little party, therefore, once more plunged into the forest, rather at random, though taking care not to go too far from the stream. Two or three times we seemed to have reached the spot where we left the bank; but we soon got into the most inextricable thickets. As the time wore on, I began to think we had passed the place; and, as is often the case in similar circumstances, opinions were divided. A fox, which appeared within gunshot, interrupted our discussion. I fired, and the animal fell. It was a magnificent specimen, and exactly like its European confrere. By a singular chance, at the very moment it was expiring, a crow just above our heads uttered a loud croaking.

"There! the crow is thanking us for having rid him of his enemy, the fox," said Sumichrast to Lucien.

The boy laughed heartily at this joke. In spite of our advice, l'Encuerado would insist upon skinning the animal, whose pelt he wished to preserve. Fortunately, he was very quick at such an operation, and the beautiful fur was soon hanging over his arm, ready to be stretched outside his basket to dry.

"I hope," said Sumichrast to Lucien, "that you have already recognized the fox's relationship."

"Oh yes! in its color and shape it is like the cayotte."

"You are quite right, but the cayotte and the fox are both Gringalet's cousins."

"I can scarcely believe that, for Gringalet has short hair, is spotted with black and white, has gray eyes—"

"Those are only secondary characteristics," interrupted Sumichrast. "Gringalet belongs to the carnivorous type, called by naturalists Digitigrades."

"Is Gringalet a digitigrade?" asked Lucien, smiling.

"Yes, certainly; that is to say, he walks on his toes, and not on the sole of his feet, exactly like the fox, whose teeth, also, are perfectly similar to those of Gringalet. The principal difference between them is, that the fox has eyes which are formed so as to enable it to see in the dark, a quality which Gringalet does not possess in the same degree."

"Are there such things as wild dogs?"

"Yes, although the point has been much disputed. But the dog, the faithful companion of man, has been so long domesticated, that little similarity of appearance exists between them. However, the cayotte, the fox, and the wolf may be called wild dogs."

We had once more got into the midst of a thicket without discovering the least trace of our resting-place. It became important that we should soon find our starting-point. I noticed that Gringalet, instead of gambolling round us as he generally did, remained behind, pricking up his ears, and appearing excessively knowing.

"What do you think, shall we take Gringalet for our guide?" said I.

As soon as the animal heard his name mentioned, he rushed towards me, and I patted him.

"Come, tell your dog to lead us to the bivouac," I said to Lucien.

"To the bivouac! to the bivouac!" cried the boy, patting the animal.

Gringalet really seemed to understand, for he sniffed up the air, and at once went to the front. I soon discovered that he was taking us back by a very circuitous path.

"To the bivouac! to the bivouac!"

Gradually the noise of the torrent became more distinct, and our guide plunged into the brush-wood. While we were cutting down the branches that stopped up our path, Gringalet waited with his ears pricked up and one foot uplifted. At last we caught sight of the hut, which was greeted with such pleasure and relief as only known by fatigued travellers.

It was not without emotion that I again beheld this spot, to which I had, as I thought, said good-bye forever. The scarcely extinguished embers, and the shelter which we had raised, had quite a home-like appearance. Sumichrast said he felt the same impression, and Lucien declared that his first idea had been that we should find an Indian in the hut.

But what about Gringalet? Had he then really understood us? Those who have made a trial of canine intelligence will not doubt the fact for a moment. The word bivouac, having been so often pronounced since we set out, must have struck both the mind and the ears of the animal, so as to have become almost synonymous in his ideas with dinner and rest.

The next day at sunrise we set out, gently ascending the course of the stream. Sumichrast's hand was still in pain, and quite prevented him using his gun. L'Encuerado, though disfigured, had, at least, the free use of his limbs. The inexperienced traveller is incessantly exposed to misfortunes of this kind. Turned out into the midst of various unknown natural objects, he carelessly plucks a leaf, breaks down a branch, or gathers a flower; and in many cases his punishment is prompt and terrible, and the innocent diversion of a second has to be expiated by hours of anguish. In the wild life of the wilderness, dangers become so multiplied, that more courage than is generally supposed is required to face them. Every explorer of unknown scenes must make up his mind to endure hardships. More than one whom I have seen start full of confidence, at the end of three days have returned, wearied, bruised, ill, discouraged, and, in fact, conquered. By degrees, of course, experience comes to the help of those whose moral courage is strong enough to induce them to persevere. They soon learn to recognize at a glance the tree that it is best to avoid, the grass that must not be trodden on, the creeper the touch of which is to be shunned, and the fruit which should not be tasted. At last the requirements of the body are to some extent mastered, and it follows the dictation of the soul without complaint. The long-experienced traveller can scarcely fail to be astonished at the delicate susceptibility of his casing of flesh, which is bruised by blows, torn by thorns, devoured by insects, and yet, day after day, the persevering man continues to face death under its most horrible aspects—poison from venom of serpents, giddiness from sun-stroke, blindness from the power of the moon, want of sleep, hunger, and thirst.

I had just taken a review of our situation when these reflections were suggested to me. Halting, I permitted my comrades to pass me; their appearance, after so many days' travel, I give. First, there was Sumichrast, tall and broad-shouldered, his features displaying both mildness and energy; one arm in a sling, his clothes torn to shreds, and his face furrowed by five or six deep scratches; leaning on a stick carried in his left hand, he seemed a little bent; but his vigorous form still told of abundant endurance and determination. Behind him, his gun slung to his cross-belt, came Lucien, slightly stooping, although his step was firm and determined; his face was seamed with scratches, his hands bruised and brown from exposure. As he passed in front of me, he smiled and gave a joyous hurrah, and lifted his cap, beneath which his hair flowed down in golden curls. Gringalet, now reconciled to the squirrels' skins, walked close by his master; truly he looked like standing more work. Lastly, l'Encuerado, his arms and legs bare, and laden with guavas, brought up the rear. The brave Indian tried to raise his straw-hat as he passed by me, his bony visage expanded, and his smile showed a row of white teeth which were worthy of competing with Gringalet's. Well satisfied with my inspection, I shouldered my gun, and resumed the head of the column.

The cliffs of the ravine became gradually more wooded, and the descent was effected without accident. I kept along the bank looking out for a ford. At last a bend of the stream, where the water flowed calmly and silently, enabled us to do so without difficulty. I then proposed a halt. Close by us rose some enormous rocks covered with moss, which, in flood-time, must have been reached by the water; in front of us was a gentle slope covered with turf.

We were descending the slope when an object, indistinct at first, emerged from the edge of the wood, and, appearing to roll more than run over the grass, advanced toward us. It was an enormous tortoise; but a tortoise which might successfully have raced with the hare. L'Encuerado tried to stop it, but fell in his effort. Sumichrast, quite forgetting his bad hand, dealt the animal a blow with the butt-end of his gun, the effect of which was slightly to slacken the pace of the enemy. The Indian, furious at his failure, threw down his load, and came running up. Our united efforts succeeded, about twenty feet from the stream, in throwing the animal on its back.

Lucien, rather startled at this scene, and at the size of the tortoise, then came nearer to examine it. I kept him at some distance from the reptile, who was viciously agitating its enormous feet, armed with formidable claws; while its mouth, which was like a horny beak, opened and shut menacingly.

"It is a galapago," said l'Encuerado; "it is of no use for food."

This creature, which is called by the savants the alligator-tortoise, measured more than a yard from its head to its tail. The latter appendage was almost as long as the body, and was covered with a triple row of scaly crests fitting into each other. The gray, wrinkled, and almost scaly skin of the reptile formed rolls round its neck of a disgusting appearance—one might almost fancy them unhealthy excrescences. The horrible beast turned towards us its gaping mouth with a vicious manner. The turtle-fishers much dread the galapagos, which, being more agile than the ordinary tortoise, give them sometimes frightful wounds, either with their sharp claws or their horny jaws. Their flesh is declared to be unwholesome.

Just as we were leaving, l'Encuerado wanted to cut off the reptile's head. Sumichrast opposed this useless slaughter, and was inclined to replace the tortoise on its feet. But the Indian refused to assist in this good work, for he asserted that it was equivalent to leaving a rattlesnake alive. Two or three times the animal was very nearly repaying our kindness by a bite; for, as soon as we came near, it managed to twist round on its upper shell. We were about to abandon it to its fate, when suddenly, the slope of the ground helping us, we managed to set it on its feet; as soon as it was turned over, it rushed at Lucien. The enormous rolls round its neck, being all distended, made it carry its head very forward, so, with a single blow of his cutlass, l'Encuerado decapitated the assailant. We were then witnesses to a strange sight, for while Gringalet was furiously attacking the motionless head, the feet, continuing to move, bore along the body, which in a moment disappeared in the lake. Although we had often before seen tortoises survive for a considerable time wounds which were certainly mortal, the strength of the nervous system which was exhibited in this reptile almost staggered us.

"Now, my brave friend, try and swim without your head, and take care not to break your skull against the rocks!" cried the exasperated Indian. "The father saves your life, and then you want to hurt his child! You hardly saw me, or you'd have known that I am pretty well able to bite. Good-bye! and take good care of yourself!"

We may readily see that the Indian was any thing but a generous enemy; but the fact was, the galapagos were old enemies, for one had nearly bitten off his hand while he was bathing. The turf-carpeted bank soon led us into the thick forest again. We had been walking for more than an hour through a perfect labyrinth of gigantic trees, and over a bare and yet rich soil—for it is only in the glades that the ground is covered with grass—when l'Encuerado heard the call of a small species of pheasant peculiar to this country.

"Bend towards the left to get near the game," said Sumichrast, in a low voice; "and, whatever you do, don't shake the foliage."

"We're all right now," muttered l'Encuerado; "listen! I'll predict that we shall have a good dinner to-day."

The Indian laid down his load, which Sumichrast and Lucien took charge of, while I followed the former behind the trees. My companion soon went a little in front, and imitated the cry of the bird we were pursuing, so as to make them answer, and thus show us where they were hidden. The imitation was really so perfect that I moved towards it, thinking to find the bird, and of course came upon the Indian lying in ambush. This same mistake had happened to me before with Sumichrast, who imitated the voice of birds almost as well as the Indian. At last his cry produced an answer, and at about a hundred yards from us, on the top of a not very tall oak, were perched three enormous pheasants.

Bent down and crawling behind the trees, I joined l'Encuerado, keeping my eye fixed on the game, which stretched out their necks with an anxious look, and seemed to be listening. Two gun-shots went off at once; one of the birds fell dead at our feet, and the two others flew away. One of these fugitives flew high above the tree-tops, but the other, being wounded, was unable to follow its companion; I darted off in pursuit, making sure of bagging it. The poor bird reached the ground and tried hard to run; I was not more than fifty paces from it, when a tiger-cat, with a black coat, bounded forward, and, seizing it, disappeared before I had time to recover from my surprise. The marauder was abused as a thief and a rogue by l'Encuerado, who had been a witness of this misfortune. Lucien examined the pheasant, which was almost as big as a turkey; but its sombre plumage did not at all answer to the magnificent idea which the boy had formed of this bird. He thought that the head was much too small for the body, and its naked and warty cheeks led him to observe that the pheasant had the appearance of having put on two plasters of tortoise-skin, a remark which was certainly well founded. With regard to the beautiful and many-colored pheasant-species peculiar to Asia and Africa, Mexico possesses none of them, so far, at least, as I know.

About two o'clock in the afternoon, Lucien remarked that the trees grew farther apart, which was a sign that we were approaching an open glade or the foot of a mountain. Sumichrast made the boy walk in front as leader—a reward for the sharpness of his eyes. Proud of this duty, our little guide led us to an opening edged with a rampart of wood at a short distance off.

"Halt!" cried I.

The butts of the guns were dropped upon the ground at this order; our hut was soon constructed, and l'Encuerado immediately afterwards busied himself preparing our meal.



Sumichrast, who, from the state of his hand, was condemned to idleness, remained with the Indian, while I proceeded, in company with Gringalet and Lucien, to reconnoitre the vicinity of our bivouac. Almost immediately, a yoloxochitl, a species of magnolia, met our eyes. I called l'Encuerado, who climbed the tree in order to throw us down some of its beautiful sweet-smelling flowers; they are externally of a pinkish-white color, yellow on the inside, and the petals, before they are full-blown, assume the form of a cross, and afterwards that of a splendid star. The Indian did not fail to remind us that an infusion of the glittering leaves of the yoloxochitl is a remedy against diarrh[oe]a, and that its flowers, as their shape indicates, cure palpitation of the heart. A little farther on we recognized a nutmeg-tree, a shrub about ten feet in height, and covered with half-formed fruit. The nutmeg is not cultivated in Mexico, and the tree that produces it is rather rare. The Indians, however, use an enormous quantity of the Molucca nutmegs, either as a remedy or as a condiment—nutmegs, camphor, and asaf[oe]tida being the principal Indian remedies. I next pointed out to my young companion a plant named the blue herb, the leaves of which stain the water in which they are soaked with a lovely azure tinge. In Mexico a variety of this vegetable is cultivated, in order to extract from it the coloring matter commonly known under the name of indigo.

"But how do they manage," asked Lucien, "to obtain from a plant those dark-blue stones that I have seen sold in the market?"

"About the month of March," I answered, "are gathered the fresh leaves of the indigo-plant, which is one of the leguminous family, and pound them in mortars made out of the trunks of trees. The sap which results from these leaves, when subjected to a heavy pressure, is of a greenish tinge, and sometimes even colorless; it does not become blue until after fermentation in the open air. The Indians then boil it in an immense copper, and, the water evaporating, the indigo is left in the form of a soft and gelatinous paste, which is subsequently dried in the sun."

On approaching the foot of the mountain, I found that it would be impossible for us to climb it the next day, the slope being too steep. I sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree, when I detected a very decided smell of roses. Under the bark of a log esquina Lucien had discovered five or six beautiful insects of an azure-blue color, with red feet; these insects are very common in the sandy soils of Tehuacan, and are used by the ladies of that district to perfume their linen. Delighted at this discovery, Lucien continued his search, hoping to find some more specimens which he intended to take to his mother. He was kneeling down and working energetically, when he pointed out to me an enormous caterpillar.

It was of an emerald-green color, and had on its back a row of little projections like small trees, symmetrically arranged. These were of a brilliant red, terminating in shoots the same color as the animal's body.

"What a curious creature!" cried Lucien; "it looks as if it carried a garden on its back; what use are all these bushes?"

"It is not known, and it is a curious fact that the butterfly which springs from the caterpillar shows no trace of all this strangely-arranged hair."

"Will a butterfly come from this caterpillar?"

"Yes, certainly; all butterflies lay eggs, from which proceed caterpillars, which generally destroy the plants on which they are hatched. When arrived at maturity, the caterpillar spins a cocoon of silk, more or less fine, in the centre of which it incloses itself. It is then called a chrysalis. In this cocoon the butterfly is formed, either white or black, yellow or green, and there it remains inactive and imprisoned, like a baby in swadding-clothes. In spring it perforates its silken prison, and soon makes its escape a splendid butterfly, subsisting upon the juices of the flowers obtained through its proboscis. Surely you were not ignorant of all these transformations?"

"I thought that they only took place in silk-worms."

"Well, now you are undeceived; all caterpillars and all butterflies are subject to them; but there are few caterpillars which spin so valuable a cocoon as the silk-worm. Moreover, some bury themselves in the earth; while others hide in the middle of a leaf, the edges of which they curl round so as to form a kind of bag, in which they are protected from the beaks of birds; again, some hollow out a shelter in the trunk of a tree, and line their abode with silk more or less fine. Thus, in every case, the chrysalis waits patiently for the time when it will change from a worm into a butterfly, painted with the richest colors."

The subject was really an inexhaustible one, so I deferred the rest of my explanations to another day. Besides, l'Encuerado was loudly calling for us.



CHAPTER XIII.

THE SENSITIVE-PLANT.—GRINGALET AND THE PORCUPINE.—THE MEXICAN CHAMELEON.—THE KITE AND THE FALCON.—AN AMPHISBAENA SNAKE.—A COUNCIL OF TURKEYS.

Lucien, seated on the grass, amused himself with touching all the plants within reach of his travelling staff; suddenly he noticed that the branches and leaves of a small shrub shut up when he brushed them with his stick, just like the ribs of a parasol, moved by some invisible spring—it was a sensitive-plant.

He called to us to ask for an explanation of this phenomenon, so we assembled round the shrub, which was about three feet high; its leaves finely cut and of a delicate green color, with pink flowers in tufts half hidden among them. The leaves, touched by the stick, shrank up close to the parent stem, and the oval, slender, and delicate ones, rising on their stalks, pressed against one another. In about five minutes the leaves which had been rubbed again spread out, as if they had recovered from their fright.

It was, however, only for a short time; for Lucien amused himself by rubbing his fingers over the leaves, which immediately doubled up, as if offended by the slight touch. The Indians call it the "Bashful Plant." A blow struck on the principal stem is sufficient to make all the branches close, as if animated by a kind of modest feeling. When the sun sets, the sensitive plant spontaneously shuts up its delicate foliage, which does not open again freely until the return of day.

Lucien's first idea, at waking, was to run towards the shrubs which interested him the day before. They were covered with dew, and looked as if they were asleep, until the first rays of the sun fell upon them. Before we started, the young naturalist again tested the delicate sensibility of the plant, which Sumichrast told him was allied to the tree which produces gum-arabic.

L'Encuerado's cheek was less swollen, and Sumichrast could use his hand, although it still pained him. The mountain in front of us, which was too steep to climb, caused us some perplexity.

"Let us slant off to the left, over this moist ground, carpeted with turf," said Sumichrast, plunging into the thicket.

About midday, just as l'Encuerado was declaring, in a grumbling tone, that we ought to have inclined towards the right, our little troop entered the wood. An undulating slope led us to a summit not more than twenty yards across, and in less than half an hour the opposite descent brought us into a delicious glen.

"Hallo! Master 'Sunbeam,'" cried Sumichrast, while helping me to construct our hut, "don't you recollect you are the one to provide the fire?"

"All right," replied Lucien, who seemed to be lost in the contemplation of a dead branch; "I want to get hold of an insect which appears to be making, like us, natural-history collections, for I have just found in its nest a quantity of spiders, flies, and small worms."

"It is one of the Hymenoptera," said Sumichrast; "it collects all round its eggs the food the young will eat when they are hatched; the insect is therefore full of forethought—a good example for us to imitate."

When the fire was ready, we started off in light marching order to explore the vicinity of our bivouac. Our position was commanded by mountains on all sides, and the glen was scarcely a quarter of a league in length. The pleasant coolness, and the presence of numerous birds, led us to hope that we should meet with a spring, which was all that was needed to convert this remote corner of the world into a perfect paradise. But our exploring only led to the discovery of a greenish pool, sheltered by an enormous rock, and which the dry season would soon evaporate.

Gringalet's barking attracted our attention towards the forest, and I perceived a porcupine on a tree. The animal, sitting up on its hind feet, was looking at us with astonishment. Leaving it undisturbed, it appeared to forget us, and tearing off with its claws a piece of bark, it licked the inner side, which was doubtless covered with insects. Having repeated this operation several times, the animal advanced to the end of a branch, and seizing it with its prehensile tail, let itself down to the ground. Its large black eyes, of unusual mildness, were widely opened, and its nose slit like hares and rabbits. It was just about to stretch itself, when, to our great regret, l'Encuerado shot it; the poor beast fell over on the ground, and placing its hand-shaped paws on the wound, rolled itself up into a ball at the foot of a tree. Gringalet darted forward to seize it, and then immediately retreated, howling with pain; he came back to us with his muzzle bristling with the porcupine's quills, which were about two inches long and finely pointed. The unfortunate dog rubbed his nose against the ground in order to get relief, but, of course, this only increased his pain. Lucien ran to help him, and at last succeeded in extracting them.

"Have you lost your senses?" asked l'Encuerado of the dog, while washing the poor beast's nose and mouth. "The idea of trying to bite a huitzttacuatzin! Upon my word, I thought you knew better than that. No doubt it's a good thing to be brave, but you must manage to be less stupid when you are in the forests of the Terre-Chaude, unless you want to be devoured by a tiger, or scratched to pieces by an ant-eater."

After listening to l'Encuerado's speech, Lucien scolded him for firing at the poor animal, and then joined us, close to the porcupine, which was dying. It was about the size of a fox, and its fore paws were furnished with four toes armed with claws. This animal, which is slow of pace and entirely inoffensive, spreads round it a sickening musky odor. It lives on fruit, roots, and insects, and, aided by its prehensile tail, climbs trees with great skill. It but rarely tries to make its escape at the approach of the hunter, who, moreover, utterly despises such worthless game.

L'Encuerado reminded us that we had now been travelling twelve days, and that it was the first Sunday in May. We should have devoted it to rest if our morning's hunting had been successful; but, unless we contented ourselves with a dinner composed only of rice, we were obliged to shoot some eatable bird or animal to fill our stew-pot. We heard some doves cooing, and l'Encuerado went off alone in the direction of the sound, for these birds are difficult of approach. Gringalet, notwithstanding our calls, ran after the Indian.

Lucien climbed the rock which hung over the pool, and made signs for me to come to him, saying, in a low voice,

"Papa, come and look at this strange animal."

I also climbed up, and found lying on the top a Mexican chameleon, a kind of round-shaped lizard, with a brown skin dotted over with yellow spots, which seemed to change color in the light. Lucien tried to catch the graceful reptile, which, however, glided between his fingers and disappeared behind the rock.

The Mexican chameleon lives only in the woods and among the rocks. It chiefly delights in the oak forests, where the dark color of its body blends with the hue of the dry leaves, and enables it to lie successfully in ambush for the insects on which it feeds. Sumichrast, who had succeeded in taming a chameleon, told us that the reptile's throat, which was white during the daytime, assumed during the night a dark hue; also, that it liked to be caressed, and became familiar enough to take from his hand the flies which were offered it. The Indians, who hold the animal in great dread when alive, are in the habit of wearing its dried body as an amulet against the "evil eye."



From our lofty observatory we were looking at the beautiful birds which occasionally flew across the plain, when Sumichrast suddenly fired. He had caught sight of a fine magpie, of an ashy-blue color, with its head crowned by a tuft; its throat appeared as if it were bound round with black velvet, a peculiarity which has obtained for it from the Indians the name of the "commander bird." Lucien came down from the rock to go and pick up the game, when an enormous kite darted on the magpie, seized it in its sharp claws, and immediately took flight. Sumichrast seized his gun to punish the impudent poacher, but a falcon, about the size of a man's fist, made its appearance, and describing two or three rapid circles, swooped down on the kite. The latter avoided the shock and continued to rise in the air, while its antagonist came almost to the ground, uttering a shriek of rage. Again ascending, with extreme rapidity, by an oblique flight, it a second time overtopped its antagonist, and darted upon it like a flash of lightning. Their wings beat together, and a few feathers came fluttering to the ground. The prey fell from the bird's grasp, followed in its fall by the falcon. The kite, conquered by an enemy about one-fifth of its own size, flew round and round in the air and then disappeared. The conqueror standing about thirty yards from us, eyes glittering and foot firmly planted on its prey, magnificent in anger and daring, Sumichrast abandoned the game to it as a recompense for its courage. The bird, not at all satisfied at being so close to us, buried in the body of its victim its claws—so enormous in comparison to its own size—shook its wings and rose, at first with difficulty, when, its flight becoming more easy as it ascended higher, it carried off its quarry behind the trees.

Lucien, who from the ground beneath had followed all the changes and chances of this combat, soon joined us.

"How was it that that great bird allowed itself to be conquered by such a small adversary?" he asked of Sumichrast.

"Because it was a coward."

"But both have the same plumage, and almost the same shape; I took the small bird to be the young of the other."

"The last is a falcon, and the other is a kite. They belong, in fact, to the same family; but the falcon is noble and courageous, while the kite is perhaps the most cowardly of all birds of prey. Falcons were once used for hunting; for, as you have just seen, they have no fear of attacking adversaries much larger than themselves. Added to this, they are easily tamed."

"But eagles are much stronger than falcons?"

"Eagles are birds of prey which do not at all merit the reputation which poets have endeavored to make for them; although they may be stronger, they exhibit much less bravery than falcons, and only attack animals of small size."

"Yet, surely the eagle is the king of birds; is it not able to look straight at the sun?"

"Yes, thanks to a membrane that shuts down over the pupil of its eye. Among all nations the eagle is the symbol of strength and courage: but still the falcon possesses the latter of these qualities in a much higher degree; it is the falcon which is the real king of birds among ornithologists. The Mexicans, as you know, depict upon their banners an eagle sitting upon a cactus and tearing a serpent."

"Is this intended as an emblem of strength and courage?"

"No, it has another origin. When the Aztecs, who were thought to be natives of Northern America, arrived in Mexico (which then bore the name of Anahuac), they wandered about a long time before they settled. One day, near a lake, they found a cactus growing on a stone, and on the cactus an eagle was sitting. Guided by an oracle, a city was built, which was called Tenochtitlan, and subsequently Mexico."

My historical lecture was interrupted by a distant shot. We had heard nothing of the doves for a long time, and we were expecting to see our companion reappear; but he must have made an enormous curve in pursuing them, to judge from the direction from which the report of his gun proceeded. Fortunately, from the position of the spot, there was not much likelihood of his missing his way: although we had full confidence in his instinct, we feared to what extent his ardor might carry him.

We now kept on the look-out, hoping that chance would throw us in contact with some game. All at once there was a movement to our right in the high grass, and its waving about pointed out the presence of some reptile. In a minute or two we saw a serpent making its way towards the pool; it was the species which is called by the Indians, as formerly by the Greeks, the double-headed serpent. The amphisbaena was about a foot and a half long, and its tail was swollen at the end, which gave it a very curious appearance. Its skin, covered with large scales, had a bluish metallic glitter. It crawled slowly, and stopped every instant as if to bore into the ground, but in reality to pick up insects or ants. This singular snake quite enchanted Lucien, and Sumichrast told him to fire his gun at it, so as to be able to study it more closely. He had no need to repeat his instructions; the young sportsman, who had begun to handle his weapon very skillfully, at once placed it to his shoulder; the shot was fired, and the amphisbaena, tumbling over, disappeared in the grass. The reptile had been hit, and we all of us clambered down the rock as fast as we could, in the hopes of finding it dead. We sought for it in vain; the snake had made its escape into some hole, from which it would be in vain to try to dislodge it.

Gringalet now showed himself, soon followed by l'Encuerado. When he caught sight of us, the Indian raised a loud "Hiou! hiou!" Waving his hat in the air, he threw upon the ground some dark object, which fell heavily on the turf, and then he began dancing. We roared with laughter at his grotesque steps, and Lucien ran towards the Mistec, who, after his dance, was acting the acrobat on the turf.

"A turkey!" he cried; and an enormous bird, with bronzed plumage, was passed from hand to hand.

"Ah! Chanito," cried the Indian, "if you had gone with me, you would have seen a whole flock of them! I had chased those miserable doves till I was tired, without even catching a glimpse of them, and was resting at the foot of a tree, when Gringalet pricked up his ears, and running up the opposite slope of the mountain, barked as loudly as if he saw another porcupine. I also made my way there, and heard 'gobbles' resounding in every direction; Master Gringalet had fallen in with a council of turkeys."

"A council of turkeys?" repeated Lucien.

"Yes, Chanito, turkeys hold councils. They generally travel in flocks and on foot, although they know perfectly well how to fly when they want to cross a stream or to make their escape; and when one of them wants to communicate his opinion to another, he raises a cry, and his companions form a circle round him."

"And what takes place then?"

"The preacher," continued l'Encuerado, without the least idea of irreverence, "lowers his neck and then lifts it up again, raises up the hair-like feathers on his crop, and spreads out his tail like a fan. He then addresses the assembled birds, who strut about with their wings half opened, and answer him with approving gobbles."

The Indian, carried away by his narrative, added gestures to words, strutted about, rounded his arms and lowered his chin upon his breast, in order to imitate the ways of the birds which he was describing.

"But what do they say?" asked Lucien, archly.

"That depends on circumstances," he replied, scratching his forehead. "The flock just now surprised must have cried out: 'What is this animal?'—'A dog,' would be the answer of the most knowing among them. 'Fly, my friends, fly!' he would cry; 'dogs are always accompanied by men, and men have guns.' 'A gun! what's that?'—'A machine that goes boum and kills turkeys.' Then I make my appearance; they bustle about, fly away, and spread in every direction; but my gun had time to go boum and to kill this beautiful bird."

I need scarcely say what mirth was excited by this account. While returning to our bivouac, Sumichrast told Lucien that the turkey is a native of America, and that it was introduced by the Jesuits into Europe, where it flourished well. In a domestic state, the color of its plumage altered to a reddish, a white, and a gray and black color. But it never lost the habit of walking about in flocks, and of laying its eggs in thickets, in a shapeless nest, which the young chicks leave the second day after they are hatched. Lastly, the Aztec name of the turkey—totole—is applied by the Indians to simpletons and cowards.

Lucien then told l'Encuerado about the magpie and the amphisbaena.

"You killed a maquiz coatl—a two-headed serpent!" cried the Indian.

"I only wounded it, for it got away; but it had only one head."

"Then you didn't examine it thoroughly; for it would not turn round when it crawled away."

"I did not notice. I saw it leap up in the air, and that was all."

"Have you searched well under the stones? Let us go back; the skin of the maquiz coatl enables the blind to see. Why did you let it escape?"

"Oh! we shall be sure to find another."

"You can't find them whenever you like; they are very rare," replied the Indian, shaking his head.

While the turkey was roasting under our superintendence, l'Encuerado and Lucien went off to try and find the amphisbaena's hole.



CHAPTER XIV.

THE METEOR.—GOD ALMIGHTY'S LANTERNS.—THE SKUNK.—THE JALAP-PLANT.—AN AERIAL JOURNEY.—THE ORCHIDS.—BIVOUAC IN THE MOUTH OF A CAVE.—GRINGALET AND THE BEETLES.—A WHITE ANTS' NEST.

The sun left us soon afterwards, and we sat talking by the fire. At last l'Encuerado took away Lucien towards the rocks, and set up one of those interminable chants with which his memory was stored. Our fire lighted up with its red gleam the stone on which they were sitting, making it look like an immense pedestal, surmounted by two bronze statues. Any traveller suddenly entering the valley would have recoiled in terror before this fantastic apparition; and if any wild beast had been prowling near us, our gigantic shadows would certainly have made it keep its distance.

We were just thinking of calling Lucien to come and lie down under the hut, when l'Encuerado shouted out to us. Towards the east, a large luminous disk was shining brilliantly above the mountain peaks. This luminous globe, lengthening out into the shape of an ellipse, appeared to move along.

In fact, it was descending slowly over the wooded crests. Lucien and l'Encuerado kept plying us with questions in reference to it, which we were unable to answer.



"What is it?" cried Sumichrast.

"A meteor!" I exclaimed, struck with a sudden idea.

"If I had my gun ready, I would fire at it, at all events."

"You had better not," said I; "the globe may contain electric fluid, and we might draw it down upon us."

Soon afterwards the meteor passed by us. We threw ourselves down flat on the earth, dreading this unknown visitor. When I ventured to rise, it was some distance away, and yet appeared to be motionless. Rays incessantly quivering sprang from the centre of it; in the middle the light was white, but at the edges it assumed first a yellowish, then a red, and lastly a bluish hue. We were suddenly almost blinded by a flash of intense brilliancy; a formidable explosion, repeated by the echoes, burst upon our ears, and all became silence and obscurity.

While we were returning to our bivouac, Lucien and l'Encuerado pressed us with questions.

"What are meteors?" asked Lucien, eagerly.

"Some scientific men," replied Sumichrast, "look upon them as fragments of planets wandering in space. Getting entangled in our planetary system, they yield to the attraction of our globe, and fall on to its surface in obedience to the law of gravitation."

"But what are they composed of?"

"Generally speaking, of sulphur, chromium, and earth. The phenomenon of 'shooting stars' is connected with that of meteors, and any substance falling on the surface of the earth receives the name of aerolite."

"Do you wish to persuade me that stones rain down from the sky?" cried l'Encuerado.

"Yes, certainly; and if I am not mistaken, it was in your country that the largest known aerolite was found, for it weighed no less than fifty hundred-weights. To-morrow morning we will search for the one we have seen, which must have dropped at the end of the valley."

"Are these stones luminous?" rejoined the Indian.

"No; but they take fire, owing to their rapid flight."

"And whence did the meteor come which passed so close to us?"

"Either from the moon or the stars, or perhaps from the sun."

L'Encuerado half-closed his eyes, and burst out laughing at what he considered a joke. He laughed, indeed, so heartily, that we could not help joining him.

"Now what do you imagine the sun and moon really are?" asked Lucien.

"God's lanterns," replied the Indian, gravely.

Our young companion was well accustomed to the artless ignorance of his friend, but still he always endeavored to contend against it; so he set to work to teach him something about our planetary system. The dimensions which he attributed to the heavenly bodies seemed to afford great amusement to the Indian. At last, just when the young orator fancied he had convinced his disciple, the latter embraced him, exclaiming:

"What an amusing tale! Oh! how pleased I should be to be able to read such pretty stories as that in a book!"

"Tales, indeed!" cried Lucien, quite indignant.

"Well, the very idea of saying that the earth is a ball, which moves round and round, and that there are stars which are bigger! Many a night have I spent looking at the stars, and I know they are nothing but lanterns, and that's enough!"

"But if you have observed them so carefully," interposed Sumichrast, "you must have observed that they are constantly shifting their places."

"Yes, but that is because the angels don't always light up the same stars, and God has plenty of them in every direction—"

I now interrupted the conversation.

"Come, let us all go to rest!" I cried, cutting short a discussion which I knew, by experience, must end in Lucien and Sumichrast getting the worst of it.

The next morning there was nothing better to do than to go with my companions to look after the aerolite. The ball of fire appeared to have passed just over us, and I fancied that we should be certain to recover some part of it. After an hour of useless wandering, we were compelled to admit that our eyes must have been much mistaken as to distances. L'Encuerado could not help smiling incredulously on hearing the conjectures which I and Sumichrast made; but he was generous enough not to take advantage of the superior astronomical knowledge which he assumed he possessed.

On setting out I again crossed the valley, and then climbing the mountain, I led my companions up to a plateau.

As far as was possible I followed the route I thought the meteor had taken. L'Encuerado was just making his way into the forest when Sumichrast noticed a broken tree, a little to the right. I leaped up on the slope, and soon remarked that the ground, for a space of at least twenty yards, was strewn with black or green stones, which had been in a fused state, and evidently bore the appearance of iron scoriae. There could be no doubt about it; the tree which had been struck had caused the explosion of the meteor, and had broken under the shock.

"These, therefore, are the remains of some of your sky-lanterns," said Lucien to l'Encuerado, who had just picked up some large stones, shining like metal.

The Indian shook his head without answering. The fallen tree, the burned and blackened trunk, the withered and even scorched grass, these strange-looking stones—every thing visibly combined to upset his theory. Each of us added to his load one of the aerolites; then, again returning to the plateau, we plunged into the forest.

One shot that Sumichrast made rendered him happy for the whole day. He had knocked down a green-colored crossbill, of a species still unknown in Europe.

"What a queer bird!" cried Lucien. "How did it manage to eat with its mouth all awry?"

"Its mouth," replied Sumichrast, smiling, "is well adapted to its food. This bird—which we have here met with quite by chance, as it usually frequents mountain-tops—feeds on roots, buds, and pine-cones. Owing to its two mandibles being so strongly made and so curiously arranged it can cut through, as if with a pair of scissors, branches which a bird with a pointed beak could never penetrate."

"God is mindful of all His creatures," muttered l'Encuerado, who was helping to skin the bird. "I had always fancied that these poor creatures were deformed."

Towards midday the chances of our path brought us to the bottom of a narrow valley in the midst of a clump of shrubs; this seemed a fit spot for our bivouac. In the twinkling of an eye, the ground was cleared of brush-wood and our hut constructed. We had scarcely sat down to take breath when a slight rustling in the foliage attracted our attention, and an animal with a bushy tail sprang down from a tree. Gringalet darted at it, but an abominable smell, which almost suffocated us, at once made him retreat. A skunk, which in shape and color somewhat resembles a squirrel, had thus perfectly poisoned our bivouac.



Nothing was left for us but to decamp as quickly as possible, for the stench rendered the place uninhabitable for several days. L'Encuerado could not find enough bad names for abusing the animal, which, however, had only availed itself of the means of defense with which nature has endowed it. Each of us now resumed his burden, sadly enough, I must confess, and not without throwing a disappointed glance at our hut. Sumichrast led the way, and did not stop till we found ourselves perfectly exhausted at the entrance to a deep and narrow gorge. We still felt sickened by the horrible stench produced by the skunk, and, as we did not wish to expose ourselves again to a similar misfortune, we took care, before constructing a fresh hut, to search round the shrubs and bushes. A few birds shot on the road rendered it unnecessary for us to hunt any more, as we had an abundance of food, so we all set to work to repair our wardrobes. Our shoes first required our attention, and Sumichrast constituted himself head-cobbler. L'Encuerado's sandals gave him a great advantage over us; for all he required was a sole and a leathern strap, and then he was well shod. But, unfortunately, the delicacy of our skin several times afforded Sumichrast cause for regret that he had not been born an Indian.

L'Encuerado, full of ingenuity, managed to fix some pieces of fox-skin on some old soles, and made for Lucien a pair of buskins as strong as they were inelegant. He promised to make us some like them, and Sumichrast, who succeeded only tolerably well in his cobbling, nominated the Indian "sandal-maker in ordinary and extraordinary to our majesties."

The next morning at daybreak we entered a narrow gorge in which it was impossible for us to walk abreast. The whole morning was spent in travelling along between two stone ramparts, hung with mosses, ferns, and orchids. The moist soil rendered the temperature round us sufficiently cool and agreeable; but the pass was so filled up with the trunks of fallen trees as to render our progress very laborious.

The gorge extended to such a length that I began to be anxious about it, and to fear lest we had entered into a cul-de-sac. The perpendicular walls rendered any deviation in our path impossible; above us, the trees crossed their branches and almost hid the sky. No bird enlivened the solitude with its song, and ferns were so abundant that it seemed as if we had lighted upon some corner of the primitive world; as if to render the resemblance more complete, the reptiles scarcely fled at our approach, and obliged us to use the greatest care.

Cutlass in hand, Lucien climbed nimbly over the fallen trees which barred our progress. Ere long our feet sank into a quantity of liquid mud, and I discovered a slender streamlet of limpid water oozing out between two rocks. The pass between the rocks became narrower and narrower, and if a wild beast had then met us we should have had to dispute the path with it. As a rencontre of this kind was by no means impossible, Lucien, to his displeasure, was ordered to follow in rear.

The way now widened a little, and became more clear of impediments, and our little column advanced with rather more rapidity. We walked along silently between these stern and imposing granite walls, with the constant hope of seeing them separate and open out into a valley. Every few yards some fresh turn frustrated our expectations; and if ever any pass deserved the name of the "Devil's Gorge," it was the interminable fissure through which we had been compelled to walk for so long a distance. At various heights there were half-suspended rocks which threatened to fall upon us; for several previously had fallen and now blocked up the path. At last a sudden turn revealed a wide opening; but our joy was of short duration; nothing but a perpendicular precipice lay in front of us.

We looked at one another in consternation; we were prisoners! On our right and left were perpendicular walls more than a hundred feet high, and impossible to climb; before us there was a gulf with a vertical precipice. What was to be done? Sumichrast lighted the pipe of council, while l'Encuerado clung on to the rocks and tried to measure the abyss with his eye.