Adventures of a Young Naturalist
and pick up the game, when an enormous kite darted on the magpie, seized
it in its sharp claws, and immediately took flight. Sumichrast seized
his gun to punish the impudent poacher, but a falcon, about the size of
a man's fist, made its appearance, and describing two or three rapid
circles, swooped down on the kite. The latter avoided the shock and
continued to rise in the air, while its antagonist came almost to the
ground, uttering a shriek of rage. Again ascending, with extreme
rapidity, by an oblique flight, it a second time overtopped its
antagonist, and darted upon it like a flash of lightning. Their wings
beat together, and a few feathers came fluttering to the ground. The
prey fell from the bird's grasp, followed in its fall by the falcon. The
kite, conquered by an enemy about one-fifth of its own size, flew round
and round in the air and then disappeared. The conqueror standing about
thirty yards from us, eyes glittering and foot firmly planted on its
prey, magnificent in anger and daring, Sumichrast abandoned the game to
it as a recompense for its courage. The bird, not at all satisfied at
being so close to us, buried in the body of its victim its claws--so
enormous in comparison to its own size--shook its wings and rose, at
first with difficulty, when, its flight becoming more easy as it
ascended higher, it carried off its quarry behind the trees.
Lucien, who from the ground beneath had followed all the changes and
chances of this combat, soon joined us.
"How was it that that great bird allowed itself to be conquered by such
a small adversary?" he asked of Sumichrast.
"Because it was a coward."
"But both have the same plumage, and almost the same shape; I took the
small bird to be the young of the other."
"The last is a falcon, and the other is a kite. They belong, in fact, to
the same family; but the falcon is noble and courageous, while the kite
is perhaps the most cowardly of all birds of prey. Falcons were once
used for hunting; for, as you have just seen, they have no fear of
attacking adversaries much larger than themselves. Added to this, they
are easily tamed."
"But eagles are much stronger than falcons?"
"Eagles are birds of prey which do not at all merit the reputation which
poets have endeavored to make for them; although they may be stronger,
they exhibit much less bravery than falcons, and only attack animals of
small size."
"Yet, surely the eagle is the king of birds; is it not able to look
straight at the sun?"
"Yes, thanks to a membrane that shuts down over the pupil of its eye.
Among all nations the eagle is the symbol of strength and courage: but
still the falcon possesses the latter of these qualities in a much
higher degree; it is the falcon which is the real king of birds among
ornithologists. The Mexicans, as you know, depict upon their banners an
eagle sitting upon a cactus and tearing a serpent."
"Is this intended as an emblem of strength and courage?"
"No, it has another origin. When the Aztecs, who were thought to be
natives of Northern America, arrived in Mexico (which then bore the name
of Anahuac), they wandered about a long time before they settled. One
day, near a lake, they found a cactus growing on a stone, and on the
cactus an eagle was sitting. Guided by an oracle, a city was built,
which was called Tenochtitlan, and subsequently Mexico."
My historical lecture was interrupted by a distant shot. We had heard
nothing of the doves for a long time, and we were expecting to see our
companion reappear; but he must have made an enormous curve in pursuing
them, to judge from the direction from which the report of his gun
proceeded. Fortunately, from the position of the spot, there was not
much likelihood of his missing his way: although we had full confidence
in his instinct, we feared to what extent his ardor might carry him.
We now kept on the look-out, hoping that chance would throw us in
contact with some game. All at once there was a movement to our right in
the high grass, and its waving about pointed out the presence of some
reptile. In a minute or two we saw a serpent making its way towards the
pool; it was the species which is called by the Indians, as formerly by
the Greeks, the double-headed serpent. The amphisbaena was about a foot
and a half long, and its tail was swollen at the end, which gave it a
very curious appearance. Its skin, covered with large scales, had a
bluish metallic glitter. It crawled slowly, and stopped every instant as
if to bore into the ground, but in reality to pick up insects or ants.
This singular snake quite enchanted Lucien, and Sumichrast told him to
fire his gun at it, so as to be able to study it more closely. He had no
need to repeat his instructions; the young sportsman, who had begun to
handle his weapon very skillfully, at once placed it to his shoulder;
the shot was fired, and the amphisbaena, tumbling over, disappeared in
the grass. The reptile had been hit, and we all of us clambered down the
rock as fast as we could, in the hopes of finding it dead. We sought for
it in vain; the snake had made its escape into some hole, from which it
would be in vain to try to dislodge it.
Gringalet now showed himself, soon followed by l'Encuerado. When he
caught sight of us, the Indian raised a loud "Hiou! hiou!" Waving his
hat in the air, he threw upon the ground some dark object, which fell
heavily on the turf, and then he began dancing. We roared with laughter
at his grotesque steps, and Lucien ran towards the Mistec, who, after
his dance, was acting the acrobat on the turf.
"A turkey!" he cried; and an enormous bird, with bronzed plumage, was
passed from hand to hand.
"Ah! Chanito," cried the Indian, "if you had gone with me, you would
have seen a whole flock of them! I had chased those miserable doves till
I was tired, without even catching a glimpse of them, and was resting at
the foot of a tree, when Gringalet pricked up his ears, and running up
the opposite slope of the mountain, barked as loudly as if he saw
another porcupine. I also made my way there, and heard 'gobbles'
resounding in every direction; Master Gringalet had fallen in with a
council of turkeys."
"A council of turkeys?" repeated Lucien.
"Yes, Chanito, turkeys hold councils. They generally travel in flocks
and on foot, although they know perfectly well how to fly when they want
to cross a stream or to make their escape; and when one of them wants to
communicate his opinion to another, he raises a cry, and his companions
form a circle round him."
"And what takes place then?"
"The preacher," continued l'Encuerado, without the least idea of
irreverence, "lowers his neck and then lifts it up again, raises up the
hair-like feathers on his crop, and spreads out his tail like a fan. He
then addresses the assembled birds, who strut about with their wings
half opened, and answer him with approving gobbles."
The Indian, carried away by his narrative, added gestures to words,
strutted about, rounded his arms and lowered his chin upon his breast,
in order to imitate the ways of the birds which he was describing.
"But what do they say?" asked Lucien, archly.
"That depends on circumstances," he replied, scratching his forehead.
"The flock just now surprised must have cried out: 'What is this
animal?'--'A dog,' would be the answer of the most knowing among them.
'Fly, my friends, fly!' he would cry; 'dogs are always accompanied by
men, and men have guns.' 'A gun! what's that?'--'A machine that goes
_boum_ and kills turkeys.' Then I make my appearance; they bustle about,
fly away, and spread in every direction; but my gun had time to go
_boum_ and to kill this beautiful bird."
I need scarcely say what mirth was excited by this account. While
returning to our bivouac, Sumichrast told Lucien that the turkey is a
native of America, and that it was introduced by the Jesuits into
Europe, where it flourished well. In a domestic state, the color of its
plumage altered to a reddish, a white, and a gray and black color. But
it never lost the habit of walking about in flocks, and of laying its
eggs in thickets, in a shapeless nest, which the young chicks leave the
second day after they are hatched. Lastly, the Aztec name of the
turkey--_totole_--is applied by the Indians to simpletons and cowards.
Lucien then told l'Encuerado about the magpie and the amphisbaena.
"You killed a _maquiz coatl_--a two-headed serpent!" cried the Indian.
"I only wounded it, for it got away; but it had only one head."
"Then you didn't examine it thoroughly; for it would not turn round when
it crawled away."
"I did not notice. I saw it leap up in the air, and that was all."
"Have you searched well under the stones? Let us go back; the skin of
the _maquiz coatl_ enables the blind to see. Why did you let it escape?"
"Oh! we shall be sure to find another."
"You can't find them whenever you like; they are very rare," replied the
Indian, shaking his head.
While the turkey was roasting under our superintendence, l'Encuerado and
Lucien went off to try and find the amphisbaena's hole.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE METEOR.--GOD ALMIGHTY'S LANTERNS.--THE SKUNK.--THE JALAP-PLANT.--AN
AERIAL JOURNEY.--THE ORCHIDS.--BIVOUAC IN THE MOUTH OF A
CAVE.--GRINGALET AND THE BEETLES.--A WHITE ANTS' NEST.
The sun left us soon afterwards, and we sat talking by the fire. At last
l'Encuerado took away Lucien towards the rocks, and set up one of those
interminable chants with which his memory was stored. Our fire lighted
up with its red gleam the stone on which they were sitting, making it
look like an immense pedestal, surmounted by two bronze statues. Any
traveller suddenly entering the valley would have recoiled in terror
before this fantastic apparition; and if any wild beast had been
prowling near us, our gigantic shadows would certainly have made it keep
its distance.
We were just thinking of calling Lucien to come and lie down under the
hut, when l'Encuerado shouted out to us. Towards the east, a large
luminous disk was shining brilliantly above the mountain peaks. This
luminous globe, lengthening out into the shape of an ellipse, appeared
to move along.
In fact, it was descending slowly over the wooded crests. Lucien and
l'Encuerado kept plying us with questions in reference to it, which we
were unable to answer.
"What is it?" cried Sumichrast.
"A meteor!" I exclaimed, struck with a sudden idea.
"If I had my gun ready, I would fire at it, at all events."
"You had better not," said I; "the globe may contain electric fluid, and
we might draw it down upon us."
Soon afterwards the meteor passed by us. We threw ourselves down flat on
the earth, dreading this unknown visitor. When I ventured to rise, it
was some distance away, and yet appeared to be motionless. Rays
incessantly quivering sprang from the centre of it; in the middle the
light was white, but at the edges it assumed first a yellowish, then a
red, and lastly a bluish hue. We were suddenly almost blinded by a flash
of intense brilliancy; a formidable explosion, repeated by the echoes,
burst upon our ears, and all became silence and obscurity.
While we were returning to our bivouac, Lucien and l'Encuerado pressed
us with questions.
"What are meteors?" asked Lucien, eagerly.
"Some scientific men," replied Sumichrast, "look upon them as fragments
of planets wandering in space. Getting entangled in our planetary
system, they yield to the attraction of our globe, and fall on to its
surface in obedience to the law of gravitation."
"But what are they composed of?"