Adventures of a Young Naturalist
As soon as Torribio entered his own plantation, he bent down a few twigs
of the _masorcas_ without dividing them from the stem.
"Why do you bend those poor plants like that? Won't they die?" cried
Lucien.
"Yes; in the first place, because they are annuals, and our guide only
hastened their death a few days; besides, the ears he cut are ripe, and
will dry hanging to the stems which have nourished them. This method is
as simple as it is expeditious, but could only be put into practice in
countries where winter is nothing but a spring."
Behind the maize-field there was a hedge covered with long filaments of
a golden-yellow color. These filaments, which were entirely devoid of
leaves, grew all over the shrubs almost like a thick cloak.
"What is the name of this wonderful plant?" asked Lucien.
"It is the _sacatlascale_," answered Torribio.
"It is a sort of dodder," added Sumichrast, "a plant of the Convolvulus
family. The European species is destroyed, because it twines round
certain vegetables and chokes them. Here, however, the _sacatlascale_ is
allowed to grow, because some use has been found for it."
"What could be made of these stalks, which are so delicate that they
break if I merely touch them?"
"They are first bruised, and then dried in the sun," replied Torribio.
"When they want to dye a black or yellow hue, all they have to do is to
boil the paste in iron, or mix it with alum."
While we were climbing the banks of the ravine, Lucien availed himself
of such a good opportunity by smearing his hands all over with this
bright yellow substance. When we reached a certain height, we lay down
on the grass. With one glance we could take in the whole of this small
oasis. The stream meandered along, shaded with green trees; here and
there, among clumps of Bourbon palms, we could discern huts irregularly
dotted about. I turned my eyes towards our host's threshold, and,
through my glass, perceived l'Encuerado, who was still preaching. He had
evidently left off chanting, for his hearers were seated round him on
the ground.
Lucien took possession of the telescope, and I noticed that Torribio
also seemed very anxious to try the instrument. I told the boy to lend
it to him. Our guide, seeing trees brought so close to him, could not at
first account for this optical effect. I then directed the glass so that
he could see the group of Indians, and I never saw any human face
manifest such complete surprise. The Indian, who appeared perfectly
charmed, could not long maintain his gravity. Every time he succeeded in
discovering a hut, he hardly gave himself time to look at it, but rolled
on the ground bursting with laughter. Two or three times I put out my
hand to take back the telescope, but Torribio hugged it to his breast,
just like a child when any one attempts to take a plaything away. At
last he consented to give it to me, and I felt really sorry that I had
not another glass to offer him.
Sumichrast led the way round the end of the ravine. Suddenly the birds,
which were warbling on the banks of the stream, all flew away; a goshawk
was hovering above us in the sky. As it was flying swiftly through the
air, it passed us within gunshot; a shot struck it, and, tumbling over
and over, it fell to the ground about twenty paces from us. Lucien
immediately ran to pick it up.
"It is a falcon!" he cried.
"You are right," replied Sumichrast; "it is the Cayenne goshawk, which
is characterized by having a head covered with ash-colored feathers, by
a brown body, and black feathers in its tail."
"Will you skin it?"
"Yes, certainly, Master Sunbeam; firstly, because this is any thing but
a common bird; and, secondly, during the few days we shall stay here, we
must endeavor to fill the boxes which we have had so much difficulty in
making."
At this moment a finch, with red, brown, and white feathers, settled
near us.
"It is the _Pyrrhula telasco_," said my friend, "a species discovered by
Lesson, the celebrated ornithologist, in his journey to Lima. Ah! if I
wasn't so economical with the powder--"
"I have some powder," muttered Torribio.
"You have some powder!" I cried; "will you sell us some?"
"No," answered the Indian, dryly.
"Why not?" was my rejoinder. "Are you also a sportsman? Besides, if you
are, you will soon be going to Puebla, where you could get a fresh
supply."
"I never sell my powder," was the terse response.
"Very well, then, let us say no more about it."
We crossed over the stream by means of a tree which stretched from one
bank to the other. Ere the sun ceased to gild the ravine with its rays
we found ourselves opposite to the dwelling of the Indian patriarch,
which overlooked a hut similar to that of our guide. The sky was a pale
blue, and we had a glimpse of the monotonous plain dotted over with the
sombre cactus-plant; while just below us figured the fresh oasis,
rendered all the more charming by the contrast. The birds warbled in the
shrubs, and one by one flew away in order to return to the trees, among
the branches of which they had perhaps first crept out of the paternal
nest. A warm breeze was blowing when we got up to return to the village.
"I have some powder!" exclaimed the Indian, abruptly.
"Yes, very likely, but I also know that you don't wish to sell any."
"No, I don't."
The powder is surely mine, I thought to myself; and, after walking about
twenty paces, I again took up the subject.
"Even if your powder was very good, I wouldn't buy it of you; I know men
like you mean what they say; nevertheless, if you like, I will make an
exchange."
"What could you give me?" replied Torribio, with affected indifference;
"I don't want any of your birds, and my gun is quite as good as yours,
if not better."
"That's true enough, therefore say no more about it."
And I continued to follow my guide, who walked slowly on. He soon turned
round again.
"The magic glass," said he, with a great effort.
"Come! now we've got to the point," murmured Sumichrast.
"It is a bargain, if your powder is good," said I.
"Will you really give the glass to me?" cried the Indian, his eyes
lighting up with joy.
"I am always a man of my word," I replied.
Torribio hurried on so fast that Lucien was obliged to run in order to
keep up with us. After crossing the stream, our guide conducted us to
his hut, and showed us four cases of American powder which was quite
sound, and more than five or six pounds of assorted shot.
I was overjoyed at this discovery; but I maintained an indifference
quite equal to that of our guide, who was squatting down on the ground
with his chin resting between his knees.
"Here is the telescope," I said.
His features remained perfectly motionless, but his eyes sparkled and
his hand trembled slightly as he seized the object of his longing. I
showed him how to use and clean the instrument; then, loaded with the
boxes, which were so precious to me, and followed by my companions, I
returned to Coyotepec's dwelling.
"Why didn't Torribio say at once that he was willing to exchange his
powder for the telescope?" asked Lucien.
"The reason is, because an Indian always tries to conceal his wishes and
passions."
"But why didn't you offer him the instrument directly?"
"If I had shown too much eagerness, very probably he would have refused
to make an exchange, and the Indian seldom retracts what he has once
said."
Of course, l'Encuerado, always the most extravagant in its use, was
perfectly delighted to see our stock of ammunition trebled.
We had scarcely finished our dinner, when we heard the sound of a
guitar: the Mistec, after having preached, had succeeded in convincing
his congregation that a dance was the proper method of winding up the
day. The space in front of the patriarch's dwelling having been swept,
and two crackling fires lighted, ere long the women made their
appearance, in what they considered full dress, and their hair loaded
with flowers. The national air of the _Jarabe_ was played, and the
dancers trod the measure with energy. Lucien, who had joined the crowd,
wanted to teach the polka and waltz to the Indian children. Sumichrast
stood by, laughing most heartily; but his merriment increased on seeing
l'Encuerado's gambols, for never before had such wonderful capers been
cut. He sang, strummed on his guitar, and danced--often doing all three
at the same time. About ten o'clock, Lucien retired to rest. The
fatigues of the day, in spite of the noise of the guitar and the songs,
soon sent him to sleep.
At a proper hour I desired every one to go home. They kissed my hands,
some even embraced me, and obeyed; so silence once more reigned in the
little valley. Before my going to sleep, l'Encuerado was already
snoring, with his head on Gringalet's back.
CHAPTER XXII.
MEXICAN OAK-APPLES.--A STREAM LOST IN AN ABYSS.--THE WILD
NASTURTIUM.--SPORTSMEN DECEIVED BY CHILDREN.--THE GRAVE-DIGGING
BEETLES.--THE COCHINEAL INSECT.--MEXICAN WINE.--GOOD-BYE TO OUR INDIAN
HOSTS.
As soon as it was light, I awoke Sumichrast and Lucien. L'Encuerado was
sleeping so soundly, after his exploits of the night before, that we
hesitated to disturb him. I intended to hunt for insects all day, so as
to fill up the vacant spaces in the specimen-boxes that Torribio was to
take to Puebla; so we bent our steps towards the bottom of the valley.
As the inhabitants were still asleep in their huts, Gringalet passed
safely all his sleeping brother-dogs with his tail boldly cocked.
The winding path brought us out into an extensive hollow covered with
verdure. In a hundred paces more, we reached some pyramid-shaped rocks,
which were bound together by the gigantic roots of a tree with scanty
foliage. The water glided noiselessly through the stones, and
disappeared under a low arch shaded by gladiolas, covered with blossoms.
Lucien, who was leaning over the opening, wanted to know what became of
the water.
"Perhaps it is absorbed by sand underneath; perhaps it will reappear in
the valleys, where the surface sinks to its level," I answered.
"Do streams often go under the ground like this?"
"Yes; particularly in Mexico, where these subterranean passages are
numerous. Near Chiquihuita, about five leagues from the road which leads
to Vera Cruz and Cordova, a large river vanishes into a cave, which is
more than three miles in length."
"Oh, how I should like to see such a large grotto!"
"Your wish shall be gratified, provided we do not lose our way in the
_Terre-Chaude_."
Sumichrast had only a few minutes left us, when we heard a report, and
he reappeared carrying a magnificent bird, whose red plumage had a
purple metallic lustre.
"We have never met with this fine fellow before," said Lucien.
"It is the most brilliant of all the American passerines," I
replied--"the _Ampelis pompadora_; but its splendid attire lasts only
for a very short time. In a few days its bright-colored feathers fall
off, and are replaced by a sombre, dull-looking coat. This moulting,
which is common to many birds, has more than once led ornithologists
into error, who have described, as a new species, a bird which a new
dress has prevented them from recognizing."
The neighborhood of the _sumidero_ furnished us with a dozen birds of
different species; among others, several tanagers peculiar to America,
and a pair of pretty light-brown cuckoos, with fan-shaped tails, which
are merely birds of passage in this locality.
"When you are speaking of a bird, why do you often say it belongs to
Brazil, Guiana, or Peru, when you actually find it in Mexico?" asked
Lucien.
"Because, at certain seasons of the year, many kinds of birds migrate,"