A FORCED MARCH.--WILD-DUCKS.--VEGETABLE SOAP.--AN UNWELCOME GUEST.
It rained all night, and I awoke about seven o'clock in the morning
shivering with cold. It was Ascension-day, and l'Encuerado, before
making up the fire, chanted a canticle, and, after the manner of Roman
Catholics, piously crossed himself. We were soon comforted with some
coffee, and then, each of us resuming his burden, started off to reach
the foot of the mountain. Before plunging into the forest, I could not
help looking back with regret at the cave we had scarcely explored, and
in which so many archaeological curiosities remained buried. The sun only
showed itself at intervals through grayish-looking clouds driven
violently along by the east wind. The state of the earth, moistened by
rain which had lasted twenty-four hours, rendered our progression very
difficult, for we were traversing a ferruginous soil. Such wretched
walking put the finishing-stroke to our ill-humor by smearing and
soiling our clothes; for my part, I inwardly anathematized travelling in
general, more especially in rainy weather.
Just as we were emerging from this miserable ravine, Gringalet, who had
no doubt scented something, suddenly rolled himself upon the ground,
frantically. We had proceeded some distance before he rejoined us,
covered with a coating of red clay, which gave him as singular an aspect
as can well be imagined. The dog ran up and down, bounded about and
barked, as if he was making it a business to amuse us. Nor were his
efforts without success. We now reached a small plain, in which the sun
flooded us with its warm rays. This had the effect of putting us into
better humor; for our clothes dried, and with the warmth the feelings of
discomfort to which we had been a prey departed.
We were again entering among trees, when l'Encuerado suddenly stopped.
"What is that moving down below there?" he said.
"Some deer," I replied, after looking at them through my glass.
Each of us hurried to hide behind a bush, in hopes that the beautiful
animals would come within gunshot. Several times l'Encuerado expressed a
wish to move round to the other side of the plain; but I opposed his
idea, as the distance was too great. We spent more than an hour in
watching the flock browsing, playing about, and licking themselves; but
not one of them ventured in our direction. Tired with this inaction,
Sumichrast emerged from his hiding-place, and the deer scampered off.
Upon the whole, however, this delay had not been altogether useless;
for, thanks to the heat of the sun, the ground had become more
traversable, and my friend actually hummed a tune as he took the lead.
The time when we ought to have settled our bivouac had long passed, yet
we were still on the road. The path we were treading was flat and
unpromising, and the water from the cave, with which we had filled our
gourds, was so unpleasant in taste that we longed to find a spring.
Being unable to get a clear view of the horizon, I directed l'Encuerado
to climb to the summit of a lofty tree. The Indian ascended to its
topmost branch, and, having surveyed the prospect in every direction,
came down far from pleased at having failed to discern what he desired.
Fatigue, however, now compelled us to halt.
Our hut was soon constructed, the fire lighted, and the stew-pot filled
with water and rice. Not one of us felt inspired with sufficient courage
to induce him to go reconnoitring. An hour after sunset we were all
sleeping side by side; l'Encuerado had quite forgotten his earth-nuts,
and even dropped off to sleep without having been able to finish the
chant which he commenced.
I was wakened up by the cries of the tanagers--a beautiful species of
bird which lives in flocks. Lucien, like all the rest of us, complained
of feeling rather stiff in the joints, resulting, no doubt, from our
long journey the day before. On the morrow our little party started with
rather a hobbling gait; the presence of the birds seemed to tell us that
we were near some stream. Our limbs began gradually to lose their
numbness; we were now descending an almost imperceptible slope, and the
vegetation assumed a more tropical aspect. As we passed along, I noticed
several pepper-plants; and next we came to bushes, round which myriads
of _cardinal_ birds were flying. Guided by these beautiful red-plumaged
creatures, we suddenly found ourselves on the banks of a stream, running
noiselessly over a bed of white sand.
With as little delay as possible, a fire gave forth its exhilarating
flame. Butterflies, dragon-flies, and birds fluttered round the
flowering shrubs. There was a perfect concert of buzzing and twittering,
and a gentle breeze agitated the foliage and cooled the air. Nothing
seemed wanting for our comfort but game for our dinner. Fortunately,
Providence rarely does things by halves. We had scarcely sat down to
take breath, when a flock of wild-ducks settled near us. They were at
once saluted by a platoon fire, and four victims strewed the ground and
water with their white, brown, and blue feathers.
"These are the first aquatic birds we have met with," said Sumichrast;
"it will not be long now before we are among the marshes."
"What birds are wild-ducks related to?" asked Lucien.
"To swans and geese, Master Sunbeam," replied my friend. "All the
individuals of this order, as their name--_palmipedes_, or web-footed
birds--indicates, have their toes united by a wide membrane. Ducks, many
species of which are found in Mexico, have a flat bill; and their short
legs, placed so far behind, compel them to waddle in walking, although
they can swim with great facility."
"How do they manage to perch on a tree with feet of that kind?"
"With the exception of the wood-duck, this family never perch; they pass
the day in dabbling in the water, and sleep upon its surface, or among
the reeds."
"Then they must always be wet."
[Illustration: "They were at once saluted by a platoon fire."]
"Not so; nature has covered the feathers of web-footed birds with an
oily substance, which renders their plumage quite water-proof. Ducks are
gregarious, and migrate from one locality to another, according to
the seasons. They are so common on the lagoons which surround the city
of Mexico, that sportsmen scarcely will be troubled shooting them."
While l'Encuerado was preparing dinner, I and my companions walked along
the edge of the stream. Before long I discovered some water-cress--a
lucky discovery for travellers who are confined constantly to animal
food. Lucien examined the small white flowers, which have obtained for
all its family the name of _Cruciferae_; these vegetables contain an
acrid and volatile oil, which gives them strong anti-scorbutic
qualities. The cabbage (_Brassica oleracea_), turnip (_B. napus_),
radish (_Raphanus sativus_), and mustard (_Sinapis alba_), are of the
crucifera order. To this list we must also add the horse-radish, the
colza, the seed of which produces an oil well adapted for lighting
purposes; the _crysimum_, or hedge-mustard, a popular remedy in France
for coughs; the shepherd's purse, which the Mexicans use as a decoction
for washing wounds; and the _Lepidium piscidium_, employed by the
natives of Oceanica for intoxicating fish, so as to catch them more
easily.
"You quite forget the _cochlearia_, or scurvy-grass, so useful to
sailors as a remedy for scurvy?" said Sumichrast.
"You are right; but I think I've said enough about the _Cruciferae_ for
Master Sunbeam to remember."
A few paces farther on, while we were looking for insects under the
leaves of a shrub, Lucien drew back in surprise at seeing it covered
with the pretty little creatures called tree-frogs (_Hyla viridis_).
Instead of flying towards the water, these reptiles made for the woods.
Sumichrast explained to the young naturalist that tree-frogs have sticky
disks on their feet, and by the aid of this mechanism they could move
about on leaves and even on smooth surfaces.
"In Europe," he added, "the peasants shut them up in bottles half full
of water, and assert that the animal predicts good or bad weather by
either coming up to the top or keeping under the water. The tree-frog,
like all its fellows, buries itself in the mud during winter, and
remains torpid. This lethargy, which in glacial climates has the effect
of preserving it from hunger, must in Mexico have some other cause, for
in the latter country it can find food all the year round. The skin of
the tree-frog secretes a poisonous matter."
"Come here and look at an apple-tree!" cried Lucien, suddenly.
I hastened to the spot, and found a shrub about thirteen or fourteen
feet high, covered with berries of a yellowish color, spotted with red.
I recognized what is called in the Antilles the soap-tree. This
discovery came just in the nick of time, and Sumichrast helped us in
gathering some of the useful fruit which would assist us to give our
clothes a thorough wash. Lucien tasted the little apples, which were as
transparent as artificial fruit made of pure wax; but he did not like
their astringent flavor, and threw them away with every expression of
disgust.
A quarter of an hour later, we were all kneeling on the banks of the
stream and trying who could perform the greatest amount of washing, the
fruit of the soap-tree affording us a plentiful supply of lather. In the
_Terre-Temperee_, a root called _amoli_ is a substitute for soap; in the
_Terre-Chaude_ a bulb named _amolito_ is used for the same purpose;
lastly, in the Mistec province of Oajaca, the poor find a natural soap
in the bark of the _Quillaja saponaria_, a tree belonging to the rose
tribe. Even in Europe, a vegetable soap is also found--the soap-wort--a
little plant allied to the pinks, and which adorns with its unpretending
flowers the edges of ditches, and is employed by housewives for cleaning
silk stuffs and reviving their faded colors.
Quite refreshed with our wash, we stretched ourselves close to the camp
fire, looking forward to our meal of roast ducks dressed with cresses,
rice, and seasoned with allspice. On taking the first mouthful, I made a
grimace which was imitated by Sumichrast. The rice had an unbearable
aromatic taste. L'Encuerado regarded us with a triumphant look.
"What on earth have you put in the saucepan?" I cried, angrily.
"Don't you think it is nice, Tatita?"
"It's perfectly filthy; you've poisoned us!" But I soon recognized the
smell of a kind of coriander with which the Indians occasionally
saturate their food. Sumichrast, like me, had not got beyond the first
mouthful; but Lucien, who shared to some extent l'Encuerado's weakness
for the _culantro_, was having quite a feast. Our bill of fare was thus
reduced to a single dish, and I left the broiled duck to my two
companions and confined myself to the roast. With an artlessness that
approached the sublime, the Indian, thinking that we should prefer the
fresh plant to the cooked, the odor of which had been somewhat softened
down by the operation, presented us with several stalks. On the whole,
however, he was not altogether to blame, for we often ate with pleasure
his national style of cookery, and he had full right to be surprised at
our repugnance to their favorite _bon bouche_.
Gringalet just tasted the rice, then retired to roll on the twigs of
coriander which were lying on the ground, a proceeding which did not
much improve his toilet.
The sun was setting, and hundreds of birds were assembling around us.
Yellow, blue, green, or red wings were cleaving the air in all
directions.
There were finches of a violet-black, with orange-colored breasts and
heads, some blue or golden-throated grossbeaks, and birds adorned with
a variety of coloring, which the Mexicans call "primroses," while a
number of mockingbirds were warbling airs worthy of the nightingale. The
sun, lost amidst the golden clouds, bathed the trees and bushes with a
soft light. Gradually all became silent and nothing was heard but the
murmur of the stream, while birds of prey soared over our heads on their
way to the mountains. The eastern sky was now wrapped in shade and the
stars twinkled in the dark heavens, while on every bush animated sparks
appeared to flit about.
I had been asleep more than two hours, when I was suddenly awakened by
Gringalet barking. I jumped up simultaneously with my companions, who
were also alarmed by a rustling among the dry leaves. Silence was soon
restored, and I fancied, although the dog continued to growl, that it
was a false alarm; so I was about to lie down again, when Sumichrast's
hand touched me on the shoulder. An enormous serpent was gliding over
the ground beside us.
I at once recognized the black sugar-cane snake, which is only
formidable on account of its size; the planters are in the habit of
attracting it to their fields, to keep them clear of mischievous
rodents. L'Encuerado noiselessly left the hut. The snake raised its
head, and slowly contracting its rings, and throwing round a bright
glance, turned towards us. Sumichrast was just taking aim, when we heard
the report of a gun, and our hut was almost in a moment afterwards
crushed in by the repeated and furious struggles of the wounded reptile.
There was one moment of utter confusion; I disengaged myself as soon as
I could, at the same time protecting the stupefied Lucien, and drawing
him away. When I turned round, Sumichrast was approaching l'Encuerado,
who, cutlass in hand, was hacking at the serpent, to render it further
incapable of mischief.
[Illustration: "I at once recognized the black sugar-cane snake."]
At last the fragments of the black snake, blindly tumbling about, became
lost in the thicket, and all was again quiet.
"Well," said Sumichrast, "if, instead of being frightened, we had only
kept quiet, the snake would not have troubled us, and we should still
have had our house to shelter us."
"All's well that ends well," I replied, smiling. L'Encuerado again made
up the fire; Lucien complimented the dog on his watchfulness, who
thereupon licked his face. This undue familiarity drew upon him a
lecture on politeness, the end of which I was too sleepy to hear.
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