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."
[Illustration: "A shrub kept him from falling into the gulf."]
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.
[Illustration: The Cataract.]
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.
[Illustration: Fall of Ingenio (from a drawing by the Marquis of
Radepoint).]
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_.
[Illustration]