Adventures of a Young Naturalist

"And you are doing your work capitally. The kettle is singing loudly, and l'Encuerado will find it difficult to take it off without burning his fingers."

But the Indian had provided himself with two green branches, which he used to lift off the make-shift coffee-pot, into which he emptied both the sugar and the coffee.

"Where is the filter?" asked Lucien.

"Do you think you are still in the town?" I replied. "Why don't you ask for a cup and saucer as well?"

"But we can never drink this black muddy stuff!" cried Lucien.

"Never mind, Chanito," said the Indian; "I'll soon make it all right."

Then, taking his gourd, he poured from it some cold water into the mixture, and it immediately became cleared.

I told Lucien to go and wake up Sumichrast.

The child approached our companion, who was scarcely visible under the leaves, which served him both for coverlet and pillow.

"Hallo! hallo! M. Sumichrast; the soup is on the table."

"Soup!" repeated Sumichrast, rubbing his eyes. "Ah! you little monkey, you have disturbed me in such a pleasant dream. I fancied that I was no older than you, and that I was once more wandering over the mountains of my native land."

It is considered wholesome to take a cup of Mocha after a hearty meal; but, with all due deference to Grimod de la Reynière and Brillat Savarin, coffee seems still sweeter to the taste when taken at five o'clock in the morning, after passing the night in the open air.

The day broke; it was a magnificent sight to see the forest gradually lighted up, and the trunks of the trees gilded by slanting sunbeams. Before starting again, one of our party carefully examined the ground on which we had camped, so as not to forget any of our effects, which, if lost, would have been irreparable. I also noticed that l'Encuerado's basket was decked with the three squirrels' skins, which would thus gradually dry.

We had walked on for nearly an hour, the only incident being our meeting with various kinds of birds, when the melancholy cry of the couroucou struck on our ears. The call of this bird is very much like that uttered by the Mexican ox-drivers when they herd together the animals under their care; hence its Spanish name of vaquero. We gave chase to them, and in less than half an hour we had obtained a male and female. Lucien was never tired of admiring these beautiful creatures, with their yellow beaks, hooked like those of birds of prey. The male bird, in particular, was magnificent; the feathers on the head and back seemed to be "shot" with a golden green, while the edges of the wings and the belly were tinted with the purest crimson, shaded off into two black lines, which extended as far as the tail.

"Shall we find many of these birds in the forest, M. Sumichrast?" asked Lucien.

"No, Master 'Sunbeam;' they are rather rare; so we must take great care of the skins of these we have shot."

"Is their flesh good to eat?" he asked.

"Excellent; and many a gourmand would be glad to make a meal of it. However, at dinner-time, you shall try for yourself; and you will meet with very few people who, like you, have partaken of the trogon massena."

"At all events, it isn't another relation of the rat – is it?" asked the boy, archly.

"No; it belongs to the family of climbers – that is to say, to that order of birds which have two toes in front of their claws and two behind, like your great friends the parrots."

After we had dressed the skins of the couroucous, and carefully wrapped up the game, we again moved on. The ground became stony, and the descent steeper. At one time I had hoped to find a spring at the bottom of the ravine; but we very soon discovered, to our great disappointment, that we should have to begin climbing again, leaving behind us the oaks and the ceibas, and meeting with nothing but gigantic pine-trees. The pine-needles,8 which literally carpeted the ground, made it so slippery, that for every step forward we frequently took two backward. We fell time after time, but our falls were not in the least degree dangerous. Sometimes, as if at a signal, we all four rolled down together, and each laughed at his neighbor's misfortune, thus cheering one another. Lucien had an idea of hanging on to Gringalet's tail, who was the only one that could avoid these mishaps. This plan answered very well at first; but the dog soon after broke away by a sudden jerk, and the boy rolled backward like a ball, losing all the ground he had gained, but he at once got up again, quite in a pet with the dog, for whom he predicted a fall as a punishment for his treacherous behavior.

The troublesome pine-needles obliged us again to resort to the stake and lasso plan; l'Encuerado, with his load, strove in vain to keep up with us.

"Can any one understand the use of these horrible trees?" grumbled the Indian. "Why can't they keep their leaves to themselves? Why don't they grow in the plains, instead of making honest folks wear the flesh off their bones in a place which is quite difficult enough to traverse as it is?"

"God makes them grow here," said the child.

"Not at all, Chanito; God created them, but the devil has sown them on these mountains. I have travelled on the large plateau, where there are whole forests of pines, which proves that it was only for spite that they grow on this ascent."

Fortunately Lucien only half believed what the Indian said, and very soon asked me all about it.

"The pines," I replied, "are trees of the North, which never grow well except in cold climates and dry soils. If l'Encuerado had been acquainted with the history of his ancestors, he would have been able to give you some better information about them; he would have known that, in the Aztec mythology, they were sacred to the mother of the gods, the goddess Matlacueye, who, curiously enough, fills the part of Cybele among the Greek goddesses, whose favorite tree was also the pine."

Just at this moment we were passing close to a giant of the forest, which had been broken by a squall of wind; from three or four cracks in its trunk a transparent resin ran trickling out. Lucien, thinking these globules were solid, wished to take hold of one of them; but his fingers stuck to it.

"I fancied," said he, "that turpentine was obtained by crushing the branches of the pine-tree, just as they crush the stems of the sugar-cane."

"You were wrong, then," I answered. "The Indians, in the forests where they manufacture it, content themselves with cutting down the tree within a foot of the ground; the resin at once begins to ooze out, and gradually fills the leathern bottles placed to receive it. As soon as the resin ceases to flow, they cut the tree up into fagots for the use of the inhabitants of the towns, or the Indians living on plains, whose poor dwellings often possess no other light than the smoky glimmer from a branch of fir."

I was obliged to cut short my explanations, in order to help Sumichrast and l'Encuerado, who, in spite of the lasso, seemed as if they were trying who could slip fastest. The only way we could get on at all was by describing zigzags, and thus we were two hours in climbing a quarter of a league. At last we arrived on the verge of the forest. The rocky ground seemed quite pleasant to walk upon: we could now advance in a straight line, and were able, with very little trouble, to reach another summit.

From the crest a marvellous panoramic view was in sight, for we overlooked all the surrounding country. On our left rose the gigantic and majestic peak of Orizava or Citlatepetl – that is, the "mountain of the star" – which rises to 17,372 feet above the sea-level. Lucien thought that this could not really be the same mountain the summit of which he was in the habit of seeing every morning.

"It is quite a different shape," he said.

"It is not the mountain, but the point from which you look at it, that has changed its appearance," replied Sumichrast.

"But it looks much higher," said Lucien.

"That is because we are nearer to it. From here we can discern the beautiful forest which surrounds its base as you ascend, the pines growing farther and farther apart, and gradually disappearing altogether. Higher still may be seen the glaciers glittering in the sun; and, last of all, the perpetual snow surrounding the crater, which was visited for the first time in 1847, by M. Doignon, a Frenchman."

"Popocatepetl, Istaccihuatl," said l'Encuerado gravely, pointing out the mountains.

The two mountains mentioned by the Indian were towering up behind us – a sight that alone repaid for our difficult ascent; we could admire in turn the three loftiest volcanoes in Mexico.

"Where is Popocatepetl?" asked Lucien.

"There; that enormous cone which rises to our right," I answered, pointing in that direction.

"Is it the smallest of the three?"

"No; on the contrary, it does not measure less than 18,000 feet in height. Dias Ordas, one of the captains of Fernando Cortez, made its first ascent. Its name signifies 'smoking mountain.'"

"Yes; and I know that Istaccihuatl means 'white woman;' but I do not know the height of it."

"It is 15,700 feet above the level of the sea."

"How can mountains like these be measured?" asked Lucien.

"In the first place, by geometrical calculations, and then, by the aid of a barometer, when an ascent has been made. The column of mercury in the instrument falls in proportion as the barometer is carried up the mountain, because the air which presses upon the mercury reservoir becomes less and less dense."

I quite forgot the lapse of time while contemplating the glorious panorama spread beneath. Just around us the ground was rocky and volcanic, and covered with mosses of various colors; rather lower down the ground was hidden by the fallen leaves of giant trees; beyond was a succession of smaller crests, frequently quite barren, sometimes covered with sun-scorched verdure. On the horizon, which was hidden by a transparent mist, the two volcanoes of the plateau stood out in bold relief against the blue sky, facing the other colossus, which seemed to protect us with its shadow. The peaks of these mountains, clad with their perpetual snow, can be seen by sailors forty leagues at sea.

I was really sorry to give the signal for departure. We again met with the pine-needles, and though our ascent was difficult and slow, our descent was proportionably rapid. Thus we fell forward instead of falling backward. Gringalet, who seemed amused at our ridiculous postures, and was too confident in his own powers, shared our mishaps, much to the amusement of his young master, who had predicted that such would happen. L'Encuerado, utterly tired out, bethought himself of dragging his basket along the ground, which was so thickly covered with leaves that he managed it without damaging his load or breaking the bottles.

At last we came upon oak vegetation; and, still farther down, tropical plants. Various birds enlivened our journey by their song, while numbers of brilliant-colored insects hummed cheerfully round us. In less than an hour we had passed from autumn to spring, after having had a glimpse of winter. The creepers very soon obliged us to cut a passage with our machetes; but what was our joy upon perceiving, at the bottom of the ravine, a stream bordered with angelica and water-cress!

Thanks to the abundance of materials, our hut was quickly constructed. While l'Encuerado was getting dinner ready, I went to examine the half-rotten trunk of a tree which was lying on the ground. A multitude of insects, of an elegant shape and of a metallic-blue color, fled at my approach; they belonged to the numerous Carabus family, the flesh-eating Coleopteræ, which are found both in Europe and in America.

"Why don't they fly away, instead of running or tumbling over on the ground?" asked Lucien.

"Because they are but little used to flying, and are very quick at walking," I answered.

"Oh papa! the one I have caught has wetted my fingers, and it feels as if it had burned me."

"You are right; but you needn't be afraid; it will not hurt you. Many of the Carabus family, when they are caught, try to defend themselves by throwing out a corrosive liquid; others make a report, accompanied by smoke, which has given them their name of bombardier."

"What do they find to eat under the bark, in which they must lead a very gloomy life?"

"Larvæ and caterpillars; they are, therefore, more useful than injurious."

"To what order of insects do they belong?"

"To the Coleoptera order, because they have four wings, the largest of which, called elytra, are more or less hard, and justify their name9 by encasing the two other wings, which are membranous and folded crosswise. The cock-chafer, you know, is one of this order."

A fresh piece of bark revealed to us two scorpions with enormous bellies, and heads so small as to be almost imperceptible; all they did was to stiffen out their tails, which are composed of six divisions, the last terminating in an extremely slender barb.

"Oh, what horrid creatures!" cried Lucien, starting back; "if it wasn't for their light color, you might take them for prawns with their heads cut off."

"Yes, if you didn't examine them too closely. I suppose you will be very surprised when I tell you that they are allied to the spider tribe."

"I should never have suspected it. Are they dead, then, for they do not move?"

"Insects belonging to this order are very slow and lazy in their movements. They are found under most kinds of bark; therefore I advise you to take care when searching through it."

"Should I die if I were stung?"

"No; but it would cause a very painful swelling, which it would be best to avoid."

"I shall be afraid to meddle with the bark of trees, now."

"Then good-bye to your making a collection of insects. Prudence is a very good quality, but you must not make it an excuse for cowardice."

Upon examining the insects more closely, I saw that one of the scorpions, a female, was carrying three or four young ones on her back. This sight much amused Lucien, especially when he saw the animal begin to move slowly off with them.

"Do you know, Chanito," said l'Encuerado, who had now joined us, which showed that the cooking did not require his undivided attention, "that when the mother of the young scorpions does not supply them with food, they set to and devour her."

"Is that true?" asked Lucien, with surprise.

"If the little ones do not actually kill their mother, at all events they feed on her dead body," I answered. "You will have plenty of opportunities to verify this fact, for these insects are very plentiful in the Terre-Tempérée."

"Ah!" cried Lucien, "I was quite right, then, when I called them horrid creatures."

L'Encuerado, stripping off another piece of bark, exposed to view a salamander, which awkwardly tried to hide itself.

"You may catch it if you like; there is nothing to be afraid of," said I to Lucien, who had drawn back in fright.

"But it is a scorpion!" he exclaimed.

"You are too frightened to see clearly; it is a salamander, an amphibious reptile of the frog family. The scorpion has eight feet, while the salamander, which is much more like a lizard, has only four."

"Are they venomous?" asked Lucien of the Indian.

"No, Chanito; Indians" (it was well worth while hearing the contempt with which l'Encuerado pronounced this name) "are afraid of it; once I was afraid of it myself, but your papa has taught me to handle it without the least fear."

And the hunter placed the salamander in the boy's hand, who cried out —

"It is as cold as ice, and all sticky."

"It must be so, as a matter of course; the salamander, like a fish, is a cold-blooded animal. The viscous humor which is secreted by the skin of the salamander is able to protect them for a short time from injury by fire, by means of the same phenomenon by which a hand, previously wetted, can be plunged into melting iron without burning it.10 Thus an idea has arisen that these batrachians can exist in the midst of flames. Although these poor animals are deaf, nearly blind, and remarkable for their timidity, poets, much to the amusement of naturalists, have chosen the salamander as an emblem of valor."

Assisted by Sumichrast, I continued the examination of the immense tree, which, being half rotted by the dampness of the soil, supplied us with some very beautiful specimens of various insects.

Suddenly we heard Lucien speaking in supplicating tones; I ran towards him, and found him trying to prevent l'Encuerado, who had got possession of the salamander, from making a trial of its powers of resisting fire.

"All right, Chanito; I will not leave it long on the coals; your papa said that these animals do not mind it a bit."

Lucien would not consent to this cruel experiment, but carried the animal back to the tree on which we had found it.

The day was drawing to a close when we returned to the fire; from the stew-pan an appetizing odor was escaping, in which one of the couroucous, with a handful of rice, was boiling, while the other bird was roasting in front. It was really a capital dinner; first we had some excellent soup, of which Lucien had two platefuls; then came what was left of our squirrel, and last of all the roasted couroucou, which l'Encuerado served up on a bed of water-cresses. We had an unlimited supply of water; and, although my readers may smile at what I say, I really believe we drank too much. A cup of coffee crowned our feast, and then the remains were left to Gringalet, who licked every thing clean, even to the very saucepan. Lucien, having finished his meal, lay down by my side, and was not long before he was fast asleep.

A dismal howling from our four-footed companion woke us up with a start. We seized our arms. The dog, with his ears laid back, his tail between his legs, turned his nose to the wind with an anxious glance, and set up a fresh howl, which was answered by the shrill prolonged cries of the coyotas, or jackal of Mexico.

"So these miserable brutes think they are going to frighten us?" cried l'Encuerado.

And while we were making up the fire, the Indian rushed off into the darkness.

"Are they wolves, M. Sumichrast?" asked Lucien, anxiously.

"Yes, my boy, but only prairie wolves," he answered.

"Do you think that they will first devour l'Encuerado, and then attack us?"

"You needn't be frightened; courage is not one of their virtues. Unless they were starving, they wouldn't venture near us."

All at once we heard a shot. The whole forest seemed in movement; the cries of the birds resounded through the trees, and the echoes repeated the noise of the report. Gringalet barked loudly, and was again answered by the harsh cry of the coyotas. At length the silence, which for a short time had been disturbed, was once more restored, and the forest resumed its solemn stillness.