Adventures of a Young Naturalist Part 13

While l'Encuerado was preparing the armadillo and the woodp.e.c.k.e.r, 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "The dog began to howl desperately."]

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 circ.u.mference; 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 G.o.d knows how you are going to manage it."

The words were hardly out of my mouth when Lucien reached the ground, suspended by a _la.s.so_ 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 friends.h.i.+p had been put to the proof. Seeing how well Lucien bore the fatigue, I rejoiced that I had brought him under the protection of such good guardians. When I entered the hut to seek repose, I disturbed Gringalet, who, before lying down again by his young master, licked his hand: here was another devoted friend--"the dog, which combines all man's better qualities," as Charlet observes.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

FOOTNOTE:

[K] That is, a plant devoid of _lobes_.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER VIII.

A VULTURE'S FEAST.--DRAGON'S BLOOD.--A CORAL SERPENT.--THE OWL.--MEXICAN MOLES.--TOUCANS.--THE SCOLOPACIDae.--L'ENCUERADO TURNED TAILOR.--SUNSET.

We left our bivouac at daybreak, first ascending and then descending, sometimes making our way through thickets and other times through glades; suddenly a flock of vultures attracted our attention. A hideous spectacle was now presented to our eyes. A _coyote_--doubtless that which l'Encuerado had wounded the day before--lay half devoured on the ground, and more than fifty guests were coming in turn for their share, and to tear, in turn, a strip of flesh from the carca.s.s.

"What frightful creatures!" cried Lucien. "I can't think why the nasty smell does not drive them away."

"It is just the reverse; it is the smell which attracts them," I replied. "Even when they are soaring high up in the sky, and scan the horizon with their yellow eyes, their subtle sense of smell enables them to catch the effluvia of the putrefied matter on which they feed."

In some of the towns of Mexico the black vultures are so numerous--living there, as they do, almost tame in the streets--that our young companion was well acquainted with these birds; but he had never been present at one of their joint meals. The sight of one of their bare, black, and wrinkled necks, plunged into the body of the animal, made him almost ill.

"Poh!--what disgusting birds!" he cried.

"You are wrong," I said; "the birds are only obeying the instinct implanted in them. Henceforward you will understand better the name of the 'rapacious order' or 'birds of prey,' which is given by naturalists to vultures, eagles, falcons, and owls. You are aware that the science which describes the habits of birds is called _ornithology_. Cuvier, the great cla.s.sifier, divides the feathered tribe into six orders--birds of prey, pa.s.serines, climbers, gallinaceans, wading, and web-footed birds.

In order to prevent confusion, the orders have been subdivided into families, the families into groups, the groups into genera, and the genera into species."

"How are they all to be recognized?"

"By the study of certain special characteristics, which serve as distinguis.h.i.+ng marks. Birds of prey, for instance, have curved beaks and claws, legs feathered either to the knee or down to the foot, three toes in front, and one behind; also, the back and inside toe are stronger than the others. The vultures which you are looking at, the only birds of the order which live in flocks, belong to the _Cathartus_ genus."[L]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "A flock of vultures attracted our attention."]