Adventures of a Young Naturalist
to his assistance.
I disentangled the boy as quickly as I could; but already he had several
scratches over his face and hands.
"How came you not to think," I said, "that by struggling in this way you
would only the more entangle yourself?"
"I saw you all leaving me; I scarcely knew what held me back, and I got
quite frightened; but I'm not crying, papa, and yet the fern-prickles
scratch terribly."
L'Encuerado turned up his sleeves, and, seizing his _machete_, rushed at
the fern.
"Are not you ashamed to attack a child?" he cried. "It's all very fine
to display your bishop's crosier and then behave in this way! Try and
tear my coat! I know you wouldn't dare to do it! Never mind, though!
I'll punish you for your malice."
The poor plant, alas! was soon cut down; thus the growth of years was
destroyed in a few minutes.
After an hour's walking, the head of our little column suddenly came in
front of a whole mountain-side which had slid from its original
position. The sight was a magnificent one; the accumulation of rocks,
piled one on the other, had crushed down in their fall the trees that
impeded their course. We saw before us an inextricable pile of trunks,
monstrous roots, and masses of rock, suspended and apparently ready to
fall. The catastrophe must have recently occurred; for here and there a
branch was still covered with foliage, and the grass had not as yet
carpeted the immense gap. Lucien was so astonished at the wild grandeur
of the scene that it actually put an end to his chatter. Without
speaking, we joined Sumichrast, who was in advance. That a lagoon must
have been filled up by the avalanche of rocks, we saw certain
indications. We could hear the rumbling noise of water flowing beneath
us. On our left, at the foot of the mountain, extended a wide basin,
which, from its regular outline, might well have been made by the hand
of man.
Every thing seemed silent and deserted around us, although the bushes
that margined the edge of the lagoon must once have sheltered many a
guest; now the imposing grandeur of the scene had awed them, or driven
them off.
"How could such a great mass as this fall down?" asked Lucien.
"We can only conjecture," replied Sumichrast; "perhaps the stream
flowing beneath the base of the rocks had excavated fissures, and thus
undermined it."
"The noise must have been terrific," said Lucien.
"Doubtless it was," replied Sumichrast; "and the shock possibly felt for
many leagues round."
"Have you ever seen a mountain fall in two like that, M. Sumichrast?"
"Yes; I did five years ago, when I was in company with your father. A
whole forest disappeared before our eyes in a land-slip, which also
overwhelmed four or five Indian huts. In a year from the present time,
the wilderness of bare rocks that we see before us will be again covered
with thick vegetation; mosses will grow over these gray-colored rocks,
and the stream will have renewed its course. If chance should ever lead
us again to this spot, the rich foliage and flowers would almost prevent
our recognizing the desolation which now impresses us so much."
I crossed the stream, in order to reach our bivouac by the opposite bank
to that which we had hitherto followed. Suddenly a noise, like a mallet
striking the trunk of a tree, attracted our attention.
"You told me just now there was no one but ourselves in the forest,"
cried Lucien.
"Chut!" replied l'Encuerado; "it is nothing but a large woodpecker."
And each of us glided under the bushes and tried to get near the winged
workman, who so loudly betrayed his presence. Ten minutes elapsed, but
all was silent, and the object of our search appeared to have moved off.
In fact, we were about to give up the pursuit, when three blows, struck
at regular intervals, resounded near us.
The _Carpintero_ (carpenter), for such it is called in Mexico, has very
brilliant yellow eyes, red feathers upon the head, while the body is
dark-colored streaked with white. It climbs easily up the trunks of
trees, resting upon its tail-feathers. At length we observed it, and as
we looked, admiring its plumage, it again struck three resounding blows,
and ran round the tree as if to inspect the other side.
"The fool!" muttered l'Encuerado; "he thinks he can pierce a tree as
thick as my body with three pecks of his beak! He'll soon be eaten."
And he fired at the bird and hit it.
"I say, papa, did the woodpecker really want to pierce this big tree?"
"No, my boy; that is a popular but unfounded idea. The woodpecker
strikes the trees in order to frighten the insects that are concealed
under the bark; and the action which l'Encuerado has interpreted in his
own way is performed with a view of getting hold of the fugitives."
Sumichrast showed Lucien that the woodpecker, aided by its wedge-shaped
beak, could, in case of need, rip up the bark under which its prey was
to be found; that his tongue, covered with spines bending backward, is
well adapted to seize the larvae; and, lastly, that the stiff and elastic
feathers of its tail afford it a very useful support in the exercise of
its laborious vocation.
"You often get the better of me in argument," said l'Encuerado; "but
it's no use your saying that woodpeckers do not bore into trees, for I
have seen them doing it."
"You are right, up to a certain point," replied Sumichrast; "some
species make their nests in dead trees, which their beaks can with ease
penetrate. As for piercing sound trees, that's quite another question."
While l'Encuerado was preparing the armadillo and the woodpecker, which
we were to have for dinner, we walked down the course of the stream, the
agreeable freshness of which was very pleasant to us. All at once Lucien
pointed out to me a basilisk sitting on a stone, the rays of the sun
setting off its bright shades--yellow, green, and red. This member of
the Iguana family, which bears no resemblance to the fabulous basilisk
of the Greeks, got up at our approach, puffed out its throat, and shook
the membranous crest on the top of its head. Its bright eye seemed to
scan the horizon; no doubt it caught sight of us, for its flaccid body
stiffened out, and with a rapid bound it sprang into the stream. The
reptile raised its chest in swimming, beating the water with its fore
paws as if with oars. We soon lost sight of it, to Lucien's great
sorrow, for he wanted to obtain a further inspection of it.
Gathering round the fire, we arranged our baggage, ready to start the
next morning. As there was still another hour's daylight, Lucien
remained with l'Encuerado, and I went with Sumichrast to reconnoitre the
route we intended to take.
The sun was setting, and we were slowly approaching our bivouac, when
Gringalet's whine met our ears. I hastened forward, for the dog began to
howl desperately. I reached the hut quite out of breath. Every thing
seemed right, but Lucien and l'Encuerado had disappeared. I looked
anxiously into my companion's face.
"No doubt," said Sumichrast, "l'Encuerado has gone to take a stroll, and
left the dog asleep."
I raised a call-cry. What was my surprise at hearing it answered from up
above us. My son and the Indian were sitting thirty feet from the
ground, hidden in the foliage of a gigantic tree. My first impulse was
to address l'Encuerado rather angrily.
"Don't flurry him," said Sumichrast; "he'll need all his presence of
mind to get the boy down safely."
With an anxiety which may be easily understood, I watched all the
movements of the lad, who was every now and then concealed by the
leaves.
"Gently," cried l'Encuerado; "put your foot there. Well done! Now lay
hold of this branch and slide down. Don't be afraid; I'll not let you
go. How pleased and proud your papa will be when he knows how high you
have climbed!"
The Indian was wrong; I was neither pleased nor proud. The trunk of the
tree was five or six feet in circumference; the first branches sprang at
a point no less than seven to ten feet from the ground, and I could not
make out how the boy managed to reach them. As for l'Encuerado, or
rather the _ape_ that went by that name, I knew that no obstacle could
stop _him_.
I must, however, confess that I felt all my anger melting away when I
saw the skill and coolness of the young acrobat. Certainly, Sumichrast
appealed to my own reminiscences, and offered to lay me a wager that I
had climbed many a poplar without the advantage of such superintendence
as l'Encuerado's. At last the two gymnasts reached the lowest branches,
and I breathed more freely.
"Papa," cried the child, "we climbed right to the top, and there found a
nest and a squirrel's hiding-place."
"Have you suddenly gone mad?" said I, interrupting him and addressing
the Indian.
"Mad!" repeated he, with the most sublime simplicity. "Why?"
"Couldn't you have chosen a tree that was not so tall?"
"Don't you wish Chanito to learn to climb? At all events, the senora
intrusted him to me."
"And so you risk his breaking his bones?"
"I'm not a child," replied the Indian, proudly, standing upright on a
branch.
"Enough of these gymnastics! Come down at once; although God knows how
you are going to manage it."
The words were hardly out of my mouth when Lucien reached the ground,
suspended by a _lasso_ which l'Encuerado had tied under his arms. The
Indian had pulled him up to the lowest branches in the same way.
"You have not acted sensibly," said I to the Indian; "we do not begin to
learn to ride by mounting a wild horse. Lucien doesn't know yet how to
climb high trees."
"Lucien can climb as well as I can," retorted the culprit; "he has never
eaten an orange out of your garden without clambering up to gather it
himself."
"That's something new to me," said I, looking hard at my son, who
blushed. "At any rate, orange-trees are very different in size from
cotton-woods, so you risked killing him."
"No; I kept tight hold of him. You very well know that if Chanito were
likely to come to his death by my fault, I should die first."
"That wouldn't bring the boy to life again. There will be plenty of
dangers in our excursion without seeking them out for mere pleasure. I
want to bring you all back safe and sound to Orizava; therefore, don't
let us have any more of these ascents."
Having uttered this remonstrance, I turned on my heel, for it was no use
trying to have the last word with l'Encuerado. I was, however, quite
sure that he would not renew the exploit which had displeased me, and
that was all I wished.
At supper-time, Gringalet did not show any repugnance to the flesh of
the armadillo, the taste of which reminded Lucien of sucking-pig.
"Are armadillos very scarce?" he asked; "they are never sold in the
market."
"Just the contrary," replied Sumichrast; "they are very common, and the
Indians never fail to feast on them when they can procure them."
"What does the name armadillo mean?"
"It is a Paraguayan word, the meaning of which is, 'encased in armor.'
The Aztecs call the animal _ayotochitl_, that is, 'gourd-rabbit'--'rabbit'
on account of its ears, and 'gourd' because, when it rolls itself up in
a ball, it reminds one of that vegetable."
L'Encuerado had gone to sleep. Lucien soon went into the hut, and I
noticed that Sumichrast carefully arranged the leaves which were to form
our bed, although he himself lay down anywhere. I was much less inclined
for sleep than my companions, and contemplated them all reposing;
reflecting on the strange chance which united, under the same shelter,
in the midst of the wilderness, persons born of such distinct races and
in such different climates. We could all surely depend on one another,
for in previous expeditions our mutual friendship had been put to the