THE MORNING AND NIGHT DEW.--THE TERRE-FROIDE.--WATER-SPOUTS AND
WHIRLWINDS.--THE BARBARY FIG-TREES.--THE CACTUS-PLANTS.--THE
VIZNAGA.--OUR HOPES DISAPPOINTED.--DON BENITO COYOTEPEC.
The sun had not risen when we were up and ready to start. We shivered
with cold, for on the great plateau which we had now reached, to which
the inhabitants of the lower regions give the name of _Terre-Froide_,
the mornings are frosty. The profound darkness was succeeded by a dim
twilight, afterwards by a fog, which penetrated our clothing as much as
rain.
"There has been no shower," cried Lucien, "and yet we are all wet."
"It is the dew, Chanito; it is almost as abundant as the night dews in
the _Terre-Chaude_."
"Are not morning and night dews the same thing?"
"Not exactly," I replied; "the morning dew is generally of a beneficial
nature; but the Mexicans dread the other, which falls after sunset, and
is said to be productive of fever."
"But from whence does all this moisture come?"
"From the air, which always contains a certain quantity, some of which
it deposits on the ground, on stones and plants, as they become cool by
radiation."
Just at this moment our attention was attracted by the first ray of the
sun, which, piercing through a light cloud, shot across the plain like a
bright arrow. The horizon, which had been visible, was now obscured by a
mist, which gradually rolled towards us. By degrees, however, it drew
off, and the trees a short distance away showed their rounded tops;
while wide breaks opened here and there in the semi-transparent veil,
and vanished as quickly as they had arisen.
The telescope was passed from hand to hand, and each tried to discover
if there was a hut where the glimmering fire had been descried the night
before. The search was in vain; the reflection of the sun's rays quite
dazzled us, and restricted the prospect; but, once in the right course,
we might advance without fear of missing our point, and, according to
our calculations, we would meet with habitations the next day or the
following.
Gringalet's tongue hung out of his mouth; he found the journey over the
nitrous soil very irksome, and the scanty leaves of the mimosa failed to
screen him from the sun. What a contrast it was to the pleasant regions
we had hitherto travelled through!
"Your country, after all, is not so nice a one as mine," said Lucien,
addressing l'Encuerado.
"My real native country is much more beautiful than that we are now in,
Chanito; in the first place, it has mountains and woods, and there it
sometimes rains."
"Shall we see any snow fall, now that we are in the _Terre-Froide_?"
"No," replied Sumichrast, smiling; "you will not see any snow before
next year, when you will be in France. The winters of the Mexican
_Terre-Froide_ are like our European springs. It is, however, never warm
enough to allow tropical fruit to ripen; but the _Terre-Froide_ only
deserves its name when it is compared with the _Terre-Chaude_ and the
_Terre-Temperee_."
"It seems to me to have been very badly named, for it is as hot now as
the day when the south wind blew so strongly. Gringalet looks as if he
was of my opinion, for he lolls his tongue out much more than usual."
"Upon my word!" cried Sumichrast, "Master Sunbeam's remark shows that he
is a first-class observer. You are as right as you can be," continued
he, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "In the plains of the
_Terre-Froide_ the heat is much more uncomfortable than in the
_Terre-Chaude_ itself, where an insensible perspiration always mitigates
the oppressive rays of the sun. A few days' walking in this atmosphere
will do more in bronzing our skins than all the rest of the journey."
My companion suddenly stopped short, and pointed to the horizon with his
finger.
"That's smoke," cried Lucien.
"No, Chanito," replied l'Encuerado, "it is a _tornado_."
Seeing a slender column of dust rising up to the clouds, I had, at first
sight, formed the same idea as my son. It was, in fact, nothing but a
whirlwind of dust, which disappeared soon afterwards.
"There is no wind," observed Lucien; "how is it that the dust rises so
high?"
[Illustration: "The sand rose rapidly, whirling round and round."]
"There is every cause for wonder," I replied, "for no _savant_ has yet
explained the real cause of this phenomenon."
"If we happened to be caught in one of these whirlwinds would it carry
us away?"
"No, Chanito," replied the Indian, "it would be content with throwing us
down."
"Then you've had some experience of them?"
"Yes; when I used to play with the children in our village, and a
_tornado_ came within reach, we were always delighted to run through
it."
About a hundred paces from us, although there was not the slightest
breeze in the air, the sand rose rapidly, whirling round and round. The
rotation did not extend over a space of more than a few feet. There was
no apparent cause for it, and the phenomenon ceased as unaccountably as
it commenced.
Lucien was of course dying with anxiety to run through one of these
_tornadoes_; but all that we saw were quite beyond reach.
"I think," said Sumichrast, addressing me, "when it is thoroughly
studied on the great plains of Mexico, we shall be able to explain the
cause of this phenomenon. In a general point of view, these whirlwinds
are nothing but water-spouts in miniature."
"A water-spout!" asked Lucien; "what is that?"
"It is a natural phenomenon very like what you have just witnessed; but
it is of a far more formidable character, for it destroys every thing it
comes in contact with!"
"Did you ever see one, papa?"
"Only once, at sea. The English steamer on which I had embarked had just
left the port of St. Thomas, in the West Indies, and we were still
coasting the island; there was but a slight breeze blowing, the sky was
clear, and the water rippled with miniature waves, when, all of a
sudden, a large tract of the sea ahead of us was violently agitated. An
enormous column of water rapidly rose, and formed something like a dark
and terrible-looking column. After about a quarter of an hour, the
fearful phenomenon, which fortunately had kept on moving before us,
remained stationary. The volume, incessantly swelling, assumed a
dark-blue shade, while the column of water, which appeared to feed a
cloud, was of a gray color. A dull roaring noise like that of distant
thunder suddenly occurred. The column broke in the middle, and the
greater portion of the liquid fell into the sea with a tremendous shock;
but the upper portion sprinkled us with a heavy shower. Half an hour
afterwards we were sailing under a cloudless sky and over an unruffled
ocean."
"And what would have happened if the water-spout had reached the ship?"
"We should most likely have been swamped."
"How dreadfully frightened you must have been, Tatita!"
"Yes, of course; and I was not the only one who was in terror; for the
officers and sailors watched the course of the water-spout with evident
anxiety."
Chatting in this way, we were now penetrating among Indian
fig-trees--_Cactus opuntia_--commonly called prickly-pear trees. These
plants, covered with yellow flowers, would, a month later, have been
hailed with shouts of joy, for each of their upper stems would then bear
one of those juicy fruits of which the Creoles are so fond. Lucien
stopped in front of two or three of these plants, the dimensions of
which were well calculated to surprise him. Sumichrast availed himself
of this inspection to tell him that the cactus, a word derived from the
Greek, and meaning _thorny_, is a native of America, and that it grows
spontaneously in dry and sandy soil.
[Illustration: "Everywhere the cactus might be seen assuming twenty
different shapes."]
"You have forgotten to tell him," added l'Encuerado, "that the tender
shoots of the _tunero_, baked under the ashes, will furnish us this
evening with a most delicious dish."
A little farther on, the prickly pears were succeeded by another species
called the _Cierge_ (the _Cactus cereus_ of _savants_). Several of these
plants were growing with a single stem, and measured from ten to twelve
feet in height, looking like telegraph poles; others had two or three
shoots springing from them, which made them look still more singular. A
third species, creeping over the ground, added much to the difficulty of
our walking, and obliged us very often to take long strides to avoid
them. In spite of all the care we could take, we scratched our limbs
several times against their sharp spines.
I again took the lead--for there was not room between the _cierges_ to
walk abreast--and, climbing up a small hillock, surveyed a wide
prospect. Such a complete change could not possibly have taken place in
so short a time in any other country. More trees, more shrubs, more
bushes! Everywhere the cactus might be seen assuming twenty different
shapes--round, straight, conical, or flattened, and really seeming as if
it delighted in assuming appearances so fantastic as almost to defy
description. Here and there the _cierges_, standing side by side, seemed
to vie with each other in height, sometimes attaining to as much as
twenty to thirty feet, while the young shoots resembled a palisade, or
one of those impenetrable hedges with which the Indians who live on the
plateau surround their dwellings. Farther on, there were vast vegetable
masses of a spherical shape, covered with rose-colored, horny, and
transparent thorns, which displayed across our path all their huge
rotundity, really exhibiting nothing vegetable to the eye but their
color. Here and there, too, some creeping species, with their branches
full of thorns, formed a perfect thicket; one might almost have fancied
that they were a hundred-headed hydra.
"We might almost imagine we were in a hot-house full of rich-growing
plants and golden-colored flowers," said Sumichrast to me.
"Yes," I replied; "but we must also imagine that we are looking at them
through the lens of a microscope. What would a Parisian say if he saw
this _viznaga_?"
The plant I was pointing to was at least six feet in height and three
times that in circumference.
"When I was a shepherd," said l'Encuerado, "I led my goats into one of
the plains where the _viznagas_ grow. With my _machete_ I made a cut
into one side of the plant, and my goats immediately began to eat the
pith with which it was filled. Gradually they hollowed out a hole large
enough for two or three of them to enter at once, and this make-shift
hut afforded me a first-rate shelter against the rays of the sun and the
night breezes."
"Oh!" cried Lucien, with enthusiasm, "if we have to camp in these
fields, we must have such a house."
I again examined the landscape round us. There was nothing whatever
which betrayed the vicinity of man. Everywhere the _cacti_ spread out
their variously-shaped flowers, which were nearly all yellowish or pink.
Above us was a fiery sky, in which nothing seemed to move but a few
vultures; on the ground there were hundreds of lizards in constant
motion.
The Indian led the way, followed by Lucien.
"A footpath!" the boy suddenly cried out.
"A mimosa!" exclaimed Sumichrast, whose great height towered over us
all.
"A hut!" murmured l'Encuerado, stopping and holding his finger to his
lips.
We looked at each other; then, bending our steps towards the spot
pointed out by our companion, we each inspected the thatched roof, of
which only the top was visible.
With a rapid glance at my weapons I advanced carefully, followed by
Sumichrast. Lucien, l'Encuerado, and Gringalet brought up the rear.
We really felt some degree of emotion; the idea of seeing any human
beings but ourselves quite made our hearts beat; for were we going to
meet enemies or friends? This was the important question to be decided.
The path soon became wider; we were now scarcely two hundred paces from
the hut, and we were astonished not to hear the barking of dogs, which
generally prowl round an Indian's dwelling. Sumichrast, who was now in
front, came back.
"This silence seems to me a bad omen," he said; "take care we don't fall
into some ambuscade; I don't at all wish to be robbed, or, worse still,
murdered."
Leaving the path to our left, we made our way among the _cacti_.
"Are we in a savage country?" asked Lucien.
"Possibly, and that is why we have to be so careful," I answered.
"Do you think any one will hurt us?"
"The mere sight of our weapons might inspire the Indians with a desire
of obtaining them; in a spot where every one can do as he likes, there
is nothing to prevent them stripping us and sending us away naked."
"They are not Christians, then?"
"Ah, Chanito, they ought to be," muttered the Indian.
And, taking off his load, we soon lost sight of him among the
under-brush.
Under any other circumstances, Lucien's frightened look, when he saw us
take so many precautions in approaching a human dwelling, would have
amused; but, so far from doing so now, we listened anxiously for the
least sound.
At last we heard l'Encuerado's loud and welcome "Hiou! hiou!" The hut
was perfectly empty.
After an hour's rest, passed by the boy in rambling round it, I gave the
word for starting again. The Indian took the lead, following the still
visible traces of a footpath. The hut, hardly large enough to hold three
persons, seemed more like a temporary shelter than a settled dwelling;
l'Encuerado, who was a great authority in such matters, was of opinion
that it was only an offshoot to a larger settlement. After a tolerably
long walk, another footpath crossed the one we were following; on its
surface we noticed prints of naked feet--even those of women and
children. But although we carefully examined the horizon, nothing but
the immense white uninterrupted plain bathed in sunshine greeted our
vision.
This prospect somewhat damped our ardor. Ever since the morning, we had
been walking on in the hopes of meeting with a human dwelling. We had
scarcely eaten any thing, and hunger and thirst were added to the
disappointment we had met with. Lucien proposed to hollow out a
_viznaga_ to sleep in--a project in which he was encouraged by
l'Encuerado's telling him that we might have the luxury of a window, and
could keep off wild beasts by filling up the entrance with thorny
_cierges_. It may readily be understood how much the idea of bivouacking
inside a plant pleased the fancy of our young companion; and perhaps we
should have assisted in realizing his wish, if the barking of a dog had
not attracted our attention; so we recommenced our march in better
spirits. A rapid descent brought us near a number of tree-ferns, a
change of vegetation which we looked upon as a good omen. L'Encuerado
continued to follow the footpath, until he suddenly stopped on a gentle
eminence, which overlooked a small green valley with a brook running
through it. To my great joy I counted as many as six palm-leaf huts.
The sight refreshed us so marvellously, that we all descended with
rapid, long strides. Every now and then either a cock crowing, a turkey
gobbling, or a dog barking, came as music to our ears, and I can hardly
describe what pleasant feelings these familiar noises produced. As we
went on, the bushes on each side of the path screened our view of the
huts. The neigh of a horse attracted our attention, and a man, mounted
bare-backed, made his appearance about a hundred paces from us.
"Halt!" I cried to my companions.
With my gun hung to my cross-belt, and my hat in hand, I advanced alone
towards the rider, who had suddenly reined in his steed.
"Ave Maria!" said I, going up to him.
"Her holy name be blessed!" answered the horseman, raising his cap, from
which several locks of white hair escaped.
"Do you speak Spanish, venerable father?"
"Yes, a little."
"Are you the chief of the village?"
"What do you want?"
"We require water and a roof to shelter us."
"You are not alone, I see; from whom do you come?"
"We are nothing but travellers wandering through the forests to seek for
plants and animals with healing properties."
"But you are armed?"
"Well, we have a child to protect, and the brutes of the forest are
fierce."
"Are you speaking the truth?"
I then called Lucien, who doffed his hat to the old man and saluted
him.
"Child, may God bless you!"
"Are we to consider ourselves your guests?"
"Yes, you are the guests of Coyotepec; come along with me."
Sumichrast and l'Encuerado also approached the horseman, who dismounted
and then led the way. The latter conversed with the Indian in the Mistec
tongue, an idiom which Lucien alone could understand, he having been
taught it by l'Encuerado. From the way in which the old man scanned us,
I imagined that l'Encuerado had represented us to him as white sorcerers
of no ordinary skill.
Coyotepec--or "Stone Wolf"--might have been about seventy years of age.
He was born in this ravine, to which he had given the name of the
"_Mountain's Mouth_," though I am ignorant of the reason for the
designation. He had been taken, when very young, by one of his uncles to
Puebla, but he had soon left the city with the intention of rebuilding
the paternal hut, and of knowing nothing of the world beyond his own
domain. His six children were all married and lived near him, and the
little colony numbered as many as thirty individuals. He was an Indian
of the Tlascalan race, as robust and nimble as a man of forty, of middle
height, with a brown skin. He wore a hat made of palm-tree straw, and
was dressed in a white woollen jacket, fastened in round the waist like
a blouse; cotton drawers, scarcely covering his knees, completed his
costume.
"What is the nearest town to this?" asked Sumichrast.
"Puebla," was the answer.
"How far off is it?"
"About eight days' journey."
As the usual day's journey of the Indian is ten leagues a day, the
distance must have been about eighty leagues.
The old man could not furnish us with any other geographical
information; he had heard the names of Orizava and Tehuacan, but never
having visited these towns, he knew nothing of the distance we were from
them. For forty years, with the exception of the relations of his sons
and daughters-in-law, who paid him a visit annually, we were the first
persons who had disturbed his solitude. We availed ourselves of the
trunk of a tree to cross the brook, when our guide soon stopped in front
of a hut. Four naked children, the eldest of whom might have been ten
years old, inspected us with comical curiosity. They had never before
seen a white man, and although we were dreadfully bronzed, their
surprise was very great. A young woman, whose clothing consisted of a
piece of cloth folded round her hips, saluted us in broken Spanish, and
bid us welcome. The old man introduced us to his eldest son, named
Torribio, a man about forty years of age. His clothing was not quite so
primitive as that of his father, but consisted of slashed trowsers
ornamented with silver buttons, a cotton shirt, and a felt hat covered
with varnished leather. The little colony employed themselves in
collecting cochineal, which Torribio carried to Puebla for sale, and
this fact accounted for his more civilized costume. At length the old
man asked us to come into his hut, round which a large part of his
family were assembling. He called his wife, who was a little old woman,
dressed in a long cotton gown; then he addressed us, pointing to his
children and grandchildren, and said:
"You are my guests; my house is at your disposal, and all my relatives
are your servants."
[Illustration]