A GROVE OF LOGWOOD TREES.--ANTS AT THEIR WORK.--PARASITIC INSECTS.--THE
GREAT ANT-EATER.--SPOONBILLS AND HERONS.--LOST IN THE FOREST.
We were all stirring by sunrise. After throwing away the remains of
yesterday's meat, one night in this climate being enough to putrefy it,
l'Encuerado arranged some fishing-lines along the stream, and our little
party set off, struggling against the heat, the mosquitoes, and the
horse-flies.
The Indian, following the flight of a purple-feathered bird, led us
close to an immense ant-hill. The little colony seemed very busy; but I
hurried Lucien away, fearing he might be bitten by them.
"The ants are relations of the termites, are they not, M. Sumichrast?"
"No, Master Sunbeam; the ants are relations of the bees, and,
consequently, belong to the order of _Hymenoptera_. There are male,
female, and neuter or working ants. The males and females are born with
wings; but after the females have laid their eggs, they drop off these
appendages, and assist the workers engaged in constructing the
habitation, taking care of the young ones, and collecting the provisions
required for the colony."
"Look here! one might fancy that the very grass was walking along."
"It is the ants which have stripped a tree of its leaves, in order to
hoard them up in their store-houses--a useless precaution, for these
insects become torpid during the winter months."
Lucien approached the moving column, which was divided into two lines
going contrary ways; one of them advancing loaded with vegetable
remains, and the other going back with empty mandibles. Nothing could be
more interesting than to see thousands of these little creatures walking
along in perfect order, eagerly carrying or dragging a load five or six
times greater than themselves. Lucien followed them. The column entered
the forest, and crawled up a tree, the lower limbs of which were already
stripped of their leaves, causing it to look as if it were dead. The
ants climbed nearer and nearer to the top, and the summit was visibly
losing its foliage.
"How long will they take to carry away all the leaves off that great
tree?" asked Lucien.
"They will have finished their work by this evening," I answered.
Gringalet, who with generous confidence was lying down a few steps
behind us, and had not seen his enemies creeping slyly over him, got up
and began howling.
"Will you never be prudent?" cried l'Encuerado.
[Illustration: "It stood up on its hind legs."]
"Any one must be as simple as a new-born infant to squat on an anthill.
This is the second time you have done it."
Here the advice-giver was suddenly interrupted; he made a face, lifted
up one of his legs, and walked away with long strides; then he sat down
on the ground in order to catch the ants which had secreted themselves
under his leathern shirt. I could not help laughing at him.
"Look here, Gringalet's skin is all over lumps!" said Lucien, stroking
the animal.
"They are caused by parasitic insects," said Sumichrast, "called ticks.
In future we must clear Gringalet every evening of these inconvenient
visitors."
"But they won't come off."
"Pull them suddenly; their mouth is a kind of disk armed with two hooks,
which, if once buried in an animal's skin, are difficult to extract."
"How hideous they look with their little legs placed close to their
heads; here is one which is quite round, like a pea."
"It is because it has begun its meal."
"Does the tick only attack dogs?"
"The dog has his own peculiar species; other kinds lodge under birds'
feathers, and some birds have two or three sorts of parasites. There is
one belonging to the turkey, to the peacock, to the sparrow, to the
vulture, to the magpie, etc. I don't think there is a bird or animal
which does not, like Gringalet, possess its own peculiar parasite."
We had started off again, and another glade led us towards a field
extensively ploughed up by moles.
Sumichrast led the way, and conducted us towards the lake I had
mentioned to him the day before. L'Encuerado caught hold of my arm to
call my attention to an enormous animal moving about in the midst of the
foliage.
The animal came down slowly, and we could only see it indistinctly. At
last it reached the lower branches. It was an ant-eater (_Myrmecophaga
jub[=a]t[=a]_). It remained motionless for an instant, moving its
enormous muzzle, and darting out its flat tongue, which, being covered
with a slimy coating, enabled it to catch up the ants with facility. At
length the "bear," as it is called by the Indians, slid down the trunk,
hanging on to it with its enormous claws, its prehensile tail strongly
clinging to the sides of the tree.
At the sight of this shapeless beast, only fifty paces from us, Lucien
rushed to me in terror. Sumichrast had just cocked his gun, and the
noise made the ant-eater turn tail and prepare to run off, when it found
itself face to face with l'Encuerado. It stood up on its hind legs, with
its snout in the air, and then stretched out its arms ready to strike
any one who was imprudent enough to come within reach of them. Nothing
could be more strange than the appearance of the animal in this
defensive position. Suddenly a shot was fired, and the ant-eater crossed
its fore legs and fell down dead. L'Encuerado had once been nearly
throttled by an ant-eater, and hence it would have been of no use for me
to have attempted to prevent his shooting it.
"Do not come near, Tata Sumichrast," cried the Indian; "these beasts die
very hard, and I still bear the marks of their claws on my skin. Let me
just tickle him up with the point of my _machete_."
"You need not have been afraid," said Sumichrast; "its ugliness is no
proof that it is vicious. It will not attack human beings, and only
makes use of its strength to defend itself. It is of the order Edentala,
and akin to the armadilloes."
"Does it eat any thing but ants?" asked Lucien.
[Illustration: "The bank to the right was covered with cranes, and that
to the left with spoonbills."]
"Ants and other insects. It climbs trees, and its bushy tail
distinguishes it from its brothers, the little ant-eater (_M.
dydactyla_), which seldom visits the ground, and eats more insects than
ants, and the tamandua (_Tamandua tetradactyla_)."
"But how many ants does it take to satisfy it?"
"Thousands; and it would die of hunger if it had to take them one by
one; but, thanks to the length of its tongue, it is enabled to pick up
hundreds at a time."
"What a very peculiar meal!"
"Didn't you know that some Indians are ant-eaters? In the
_Terre-Froide_, for instance, dishes are made of red ants' eggs, and
there is one species which secretes a sweet liquid, of which children
are very fond."
On the shore of the lake a fresh surprise awaited us. The bank to the
right was covered with cranes, and that to the left with spoonbills,
with delicate pink plumage, one of which Lucien shot.
"Oh, what beautiful birds!" said he.
"What a curious beak!" he further exclaimed, examining his victim, which
Gringalet had just brought him.
"Yes, that is why this bird is called a spoonbill."
"Is it good to eat?"
"It is rather tough; but when any one is hungry--"
Sumichrast put his finger to his lips to enjoin silence; two smaller
waders made their appearance and settled close to us.
"Now, Master Sunbeam," said Sumichrast, "fire at the bird to the left,
while I aim at the one to the right. Those are egrets, and your sister
will like some of their beautiful feathers to put in her hat. Now,
then--one, two--fire!"
The two shots sounded almost at the same moment, and the birds fell over
on to the ground. This double report put to flight all the spoonbills
and cranes, and the lake was soon perfectly deserted.
We now took the road leading to the "Palm-tree Villa," and l'Encuerado
went on before us to take up his fishing-lines.
The heat became perfectly overpowering, and Sumichrast fell asleep.
About half-past three, I went off with Lucien towards that portion of
the forest close by the stream, with the intention of collecting
insects. First one object, and then another tempted us into the
interior, till the oblique rays of the sun admonished us to turn back.
But imagine my dismay when, by neglect not to notch the tree-trunks as I
passed them, I discovered I did not know in what direction our camp lay.
"Are we lost?" asked the boy, in an anxious tone.
"We have gone too far," said I to the lad; "and perhaps we shall not be
able to get back to the 'Palm-tree Villa' this evening. I am going to
fire off my gun to attract l'Encuerado's attention."
The report resounded. I listened with an anxiety which increased when I
perceived that I had only three cartridges left, and Lucien only
retained two charges.
"You had better shoot now," said I to the lad, "so that l'Encuerado may
understand that we are signalling to him."
I again listened almost breathlessly, but in vain.
"We must rest here without our supper," said I, with a gayety I was far
from feeling; "if we go on walking, we might lose ourselves."
After cutting some fagots and making a fire in a semicircle round a tree
I lay down, with my dear companion beside me; and, though I tried hard
to conceal it, I could not but feel the gloomiest forebodings.
[Illustration: "The head and bright eyes of a superb jaguar appeared
about fifty paces from us."]
About midnight the breeze calmed down, and I closed my eyes that I might
the better hear the slightest noise. Several times I thought I caught
the faintest vibrations of a dull sound; but I ultimately attributed
these noises to my over-excited imagination. Suddenly a terrible roar
re-echoed through the forest and woke up Lucien.
"What is the matter? Is it Chema?"
"No, my boy; it is a jaguar."
"Will it come near us?"
"I hope not, but go on with its nocturnal hunting; anyhow, behind the
fire we have nothing to fear."
I put Lucien back against the tree and cocked my gun, when the head and
bright eyes of a superb jaguar appeared about fifty paces from us.
[Illustration]
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