Adventures of a Young Naturalist

"Oh dear! oh dear!" cried Sumichrast, who could not help smiling at the piteous face of the young fisherman; "most decidedly, we are all unfortunate."

This joke was taken in a serious light by l'Encuerado, who smote his forehead as if suddenly struck by some idea.

"It is the genius of the cave!" he cried. "Ah! the scoundrel, after all he owes me, and the precautions I took!"

"What precautions?" asked Lucien, surprised.

"I picked up seven white pebbles, and drew out a beautiful cross."

"What did the cross matter to him?"

"Matter to him! why, Chanito, he knows well that we are Christians, and yet he bewitches us. Wait a bit, I'll match him."

And rearing himself up against the trunk of a tree, standing on his head, with his legs in the air, l'Encuerado kicked about with all the frenzy of one possessed. He fell sometimes to the right, and sometimes to the left, but raised himself after every fall, and resumed his clown-like attitude. Not one of us could keep a serious countenance while looking at his contortions. Lucien laughed till he cried, especially because the Indian, as if on purpose to render the scene more comical, accompanied his gestures with invectives against the genius of the cave and invocations to St. Joseph.

At last I told him to resume his natural position, and to keep quiet.

"Do you really think that I have done it enough?" he asked, addressing me with imperturbable gravity.

"Yes," I replied; "from the way in which you have shaken him, I should say he must have come out either through your mouth or ears."

"Then it's your turn now, Chanito!"

Lucien, delighted at having to execute this feat of skill, tried several times to keep his balance while standing on his head; but overcome by laughter, he was not able, so he fell, to rear himself up again. The more l'Encuerado cried out to him, urging him to persevere, the louder the boy laughed. The brave Indian, who was under the full belief that an evil spirit must necessarily abandon a body placed upside down, seized the legs of his young master and shook him violently as if he was emptying a sack. Sumichrast at last put an end to this scene by declaring that he was sure the spirit must have taken flight. L'Encuerado then came up to my friend and proposed to assist him into the same position as he had helped Lucien.

"That's enough of it," I cried as soon as laughing allowed me to speak; "M. Sumichrast and I have other means of expelling evil spirits."

L'Encuerado looked at me with wonder, more convinced than ever that my power far exceeded that of the sorcerers of his own country.

We were now close to our fire. Lucien was gravely repeating the words which l'Encuerado had addressed to the demon, when Gringalet commenced howling. L'Encuerado had seized the poor animal by his hind legs, and was violently shaking him, head downward.

"It's all for your good," said the Indian to the dog. "Can't you understand that the evil spirit which you have in your body will be certain to make you commit some folly?"

Lucien rushed to the assistance of his faithful friend, and at last induced the Mistec to let him go. Not the least convinced of l'Encuerado's kind intentions towards him, Gringalet seemed to bear malice towards the Indian, and for three days was very shy of coming near him.

After this scene the preparations for dinner occupied our attention. If our guns had been more successful, we should have had fat to fry our fish in. While we were deploring our ill-luck, I noticed a flock of birds like ducks flying high up in the air; they made a wide circle and settled down on the top of a tree. L'Encuerado fired at them, and one fell. It was an anhinga, one of the most singular specimens of web-footed birds that can be found anywhere. Represent to yourself an enormous duck with a neck like a swan, a bill straight, tapering, and longer than the head, webbed feet, and widely spreading and well-feathered wings, and then know the anhinga. It dives and flies with equal facility, can swim under the water and perch upon trees, the highest of which it chooses for building its nest upon.

The flesh of the anhinga is not valuable, as it is hard and tough. Perhaps a good appetite rendered me indulgent, but I found the flavor very much like that of duck. The fat of this bird, carefully saved, was used for frying our fish. The latter, I must confess, did not seem to us so nice as the dark-colored meat of the anhinga. If it tasted rather fishy, the fish themselves tasted muddy; on the whole, however, our bill-of-fare was a tolerable one.

When night-fall came on, the trees stood out in bold relief against the transparent sky, and l'Encuerado, delighted at thinking that he was now unbewitched, gratified us with one of his unpublished canticles, which materially helped to send us to sleep.

CHAPTER XIX

THE BLACK IGUANA. – ANOTHER COUNTRY. – REMINISCENCES OF CHILDHOOD. – THE MIRAGE. – A FIRE IN THE PLAIN

By ten o'clock in the morning we had crossed some rising ground, and were passing through a narrow gorge carpeted with ferns. Lucien headed the party, closely followed by l'Encuerado; and led us on to a kind of rocky staircase, down which, in the rainy season, water doubtlessly flowed. This steep path compelled us to halt several times to recover our breath. The branches of the bushes formed an archway over our heads, and their blossoms surrounded us with their rich perfume.

At length a rise in the ground impeded our path, and the heat commenced to inconvenience us. The refraction of light, especially, affected our eyes, and our feet raised perfect clouds of dust. Lucien, who had become quite an enduring walker, throughout kept in front, and often gained ground while we were stopping to take breath. Just as we reached the ridge of the hill, I saw the boy, who was a few yards in advance, suddenly cock his gun and fire. I ran to him, but he disappeared down the slope, crying out to me that he had shot a dragon!

I soon came up, and found the young sportsman standing in front of a magnificent black iguana —Cyclura acanthura– which does, in fact, somewhat resemble the supposed appearance of the fabulous animal described by the ancients. Its skin shone with a silvery-gray metallic glitter, more particularly on the dorsal ridge. L'Encuerado joined us when it was dying, when, rubbing his hands, he cried:

"It is a guachi-chevé; what a splendid supper we shall have!"

"You have seen them before, then?"

"It is an animal which belongs to my country, Chanito; it abounds in the plains which slope down to the Pacific Ocean. They are beasts which can live without eating; they are sometimes kept for two months with their feet tied and their mouth sewn up."

"The mouth sewn up?"

"Yes, Chanito, so as to prevent them getting lean. When I was your age, during the time of Lent, I used to go iguana hunting with my brothers. We sought them in the shallow marshes which are inundated by water during flood-time. There, in hollow trunks of trees, or in holes made in the mud, we found the black iguanas, and pulled them out by their tails."

"Then they don't bite?"

"Oh yes, they do, and scratch also; so we took care to catch hold of them by the neck, and tie both their feet and their jaws. Sometimes we used to pursue them up the trees; but then, for they don't mind falling twenty or thirty feet, they frequently escaped."

Sumichrast completed this information by telling the young naturalist that the iguana, which is allied to the lizards, is generally a yard in length; and that the female lays thirty to forty eggs, which are much esteemed by the native epicures; also that the green species —Iguana rhinolopha– has a flat, thin tail, and swims much better than the black variety, the tail of which, being covered with spines, is not well adapted for progression through water. Thus, meeting with a green iguana almost always indicates the vicinity of a stream; but the black species is frequently found away from rivers.

Lucien wanted at first to carry his game, but he was overtaxed by its weight and gave it up to l'Encuerado. Another hill was now before us, and the ground became at every step more and more barren, and on which there was little or nothing growing but a few shrubs with a bluish flower. When we had reached the summit of this second ridge, a boundless plain lay spread out before our gaze; we were now on the central plateau of Mexico, in the Terre-Froide, eight thousand seven hundred feet above the level of the sea.

What a change there was! The white soil was so light and dry that it was carried away by the breeze, and produced nothing but a few leafless trees. There were also some thorny bushes smothered in sand, and, a little farther on, some gigantic cacti astonished us with their strange shapes. The sun, reflected by the red glaring surface, much interfered with our sight, so we directed our steps to the right, where there appeared to be a greater amount of shade.

"Oh, what a wretched country!" cried Lucien. "Can we be still in Mexico?"

"Yes," replied I; "but we are now on the great plateau, almost on a level with the city of Mexico and Puebla."

"Are we going to cross that great plain? I can see neither birds nor beasts on it; in fact, one might almost fancy the very trees were thirsty."

"You are right, for it does not often rain here. Nevertheless, this ground, which at first sight appears so barren, is very fruitful when cultivated. It produces wheat, barley, potatoes, apples, pears, cherries, grapes, peaches, and, in short, all the European fruits, which can only grow in a temperate zone. On this plateau, too, grows the Maguey agave, Mexicana, a wonderful plant, which is as useful to the Mexicans as the cocoa-nut tree is to the inhabitants of the lands to which it is indigenous."

L'Encuerado had stooped down under a pepper-tree, and his glance wandered over the scene. The fact was, that we were now about the same height as that at which his own country is situated, and he might easily fancy himself near his native village.

"What are you thinking of?" said I, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Oh Tatita! why did you disturb me? Here I feel myself almost as learned as you, and I could tell you all the names of those flowers which turn their bright faces towards me as if they knew me! It seems as if I had often walked on that plain, and as if I had often seen these trees, bushes, and plants – You are laughing at me, Chanito; it's all very well, but you'll see! Tatita will set me right if I tell you any thing that is not true. Look here, for instance," continued the Indian, rising up and plucking a plant with slender and whitish stems; "this is the alfilerillo, which mothers give their children to cure them of sore throats. Such shrubs are lost here; for their fruit would be useful in my country. Here too, Chanito, is a mizquitl, a thorny tree on which we shall be certain to find some gum. Indeed, here are three morsels of it. You may safely suck it; it will not seem very nice at first, but you will soon like it. Oh Tatita! you have really brought me back into my own country."

"We are certainly on the same line, and it is not to be wondered at that you find here the same kind of vegetation as in that in which you spent your childhood."

The Indian was silent, and seemed musing. Sumichrast and I observed him with some curiosity, and Lucien, surprised at his emotion, looked at him anxiously.

"Here is the 'angel-plant,'" resumed l'Encuerado, suddenly. "How pleased my mother used to be when I found one of them."

"What are its good properties?" I asked.

"Oh! it produces beautiful dreams, which seem to lift you to heaven."

The Indian again became pensive, sometimes casting a glance over the vast prospect, and sometimes pulling up pieces of the turf which grew at his feet.

"It only needs a palm-tree to make the landscape quite complete," said he, thoughtfully.

In a minute or so he advanced towards the bushes, and, kneeling down, plucked a tuft of yellow marigold, which are called in this country "the dead man's flower." Afterwards I heard him sobbing.

"Oh Chéma! what is the matter?" cried Lucien, running up to his friend.

The Indian raised himself and took the boy in his arms.

"Once I had a mother, brothers, and a country," he said, sadly; "and this flower reminds me that all those are now sleeping in the grave."

"Then you don't love me?" replied Lucien, embracing him.

The only answer l'Encuerado made was pressing the boy so tightly against his breast as to draw from him a slight cry.

This scene quite affected us, and I and my friend, side by side, walked back to the hut deeply sunk in thought.

Hunger soon brought with it more commonplace ideas. The white and juicy flesh of the iguana was quite a feast for us all. Our meal we sat over a longer time than usual; for in conversation we entered upon the subject of our native countries, and the theme appeared inexhaustible. I reminded my friend that, only a few days before, he had shown as much emotion as the Indian on seeing two butterflies which he fancied belonged to a Swiss species; and I brought forward these feelings to oppose the intention he so often expressed of taking up his abode in the midst of the wilderness, so as to live and die in solitude.

On the great plateau the sun shines rather later than in the lower regions. As the luminary approached the earth, the sky was lighted up with a purple color, and I saw standing out on our left in bold relief the jagged outline of the Cordilleras of l'Encuerado's country. The whitish ground gradually assumed a transparent appearance; our eyes deceived us to such an extent that we fancied we saw an immense tract of water, above which the trees, appearing as if they were submerged, raised their green heads.

The moon rose, and, far from destroying the mirage, it rendered the illusion still more striking. I resolved to descend from the hill in order to convince Lucien how much our vision was deceived.

"There is no mistake about the plain being dry," said he, as we returned to the bivouac, "and yet one might fancy that, as we were mounting the hill, the water was rising behind us."

"The layers of the air," I replied, "are unequally warmed, and their refraction, which causes the rays of light to deviate in their course, reverses the objects which cover the plain, and, on the other hand, causes them to appear more elevated than they really are."

"So we see water in a place where in reality there is none."

"You don't take the sky into account, which is reflected on the ground beneath us as in a mirror. But the air is becoming cooler, and you will soon see the phenomenon slowly disappear, as if some invisible hand was pushing the mist back towards the horizon."

While we were looking down over the plateau, and watching the mirage gradually fade away, a distant light suddenly shone out. Loud exclamations hailed the sight of this unknown bivouac; and, fixing our eyes on it, we all formed endless conjectures. We had not expected to meet with any habitation before the next day; and the cry of "land!" on board ship after a long voyage could not have made a stronger impression than the sight of this fire. The air was cool; still l'Encuerado was not allowed to kindle a light, which would perhaps have betrayed us to foes. It was now twenty days since we had met with a human being, and our first feeling, after the instinctive joy at the idea of seeing our fellow-creatures, was, alas! one of distrust.

CHAPTER XX

THE MORNING AND NIGHT DEW. – THE TERRE-FROIDE. – WATER-SPOUTS AND WHIRLWINDS. – THE BARBARY FIG-TREES. – THE CACTUS-PLANTS. – THE VIZNAGA. – OUR HOPES DISAPPOINTED. – DON BENITO COYOTEPEC

The sun had not risen when we were up and ready to start. We shivered with cold, for on the great plateau which we had now reached, to which the inhabitants of the lower regions give the name of Terre-Froide, the mornings are frosty. The profound darkness was succeeded by a dim twilight, afterwards by a fog, which penetrated our clothing as much as rain.

"There has been no shower," cried Lucien, "and yet we are all wet."

"It is the dew, Chanito; it is almost as abundant as the night dews in the Terre-Chaude."

"Are not morning and night dews the same thing?"

"Not exactly," I replied; "the morning dew is generally of a beneficial nature; but the Mexicans dread the other, which falls after sunset, and is said to be productive of fever."

"But from whence does all this moisture come?"

"From the air, which always contains a certain quantity, some of which it deposits on the ground, on stones and plants, as they become cool by radiation."

Just at this moment our attention was attracted by the first ray of the sun, which, piercing through a light cloud, shot across the plain like a bright arrow. The horizon, which had been visible, was now obscured by a mist, which gradually rolled towards us. By degrees, however, it drew off, and the trees a short distance away showed their rounded tops; while wide breaks opened here and there in the semi-transparent veil, and vanished as quickly as they had arisen.

The telescope was passed from hand to hand, and each tried to discover if there was a hut where the glimmering fire had been descried the night before. The search was in vain; the reflection of the sun's rays quite dazzled us, and restricted the prospect; but, once in the right course, we might advance without fear of missing our point, and, according to our calculations, we would meet with habitations the next day or the following.

Gringalet's tongue hung out of his mouth; he found the journey over the nitrous soil very irksome, and the scanty leaves of the mimosa failed to screen him from the sun. What a contrast it was to the pleasant regions we had hitherto travelled through!

"Your country, after all, is not so nice a one as mine," said Lucien, addressing l'Encuerado.

"My real native country is much more beautiful than that we are now in, Chanito; in the first place, it has mountains and woods, and there it sometimes rains."

"Shall we see any snow fall, now that we are in the Terre-Froide?"

"No," replied Sumichrast, smiling; "you will not see any snow before next year, when you will be in France. The winters of the Mexican Terre-Froide are like our European springs. It is, however, never warm enough to allow tropical fruit to ripen; but the Terre-Froide only deserves its name when it is compared with the Terre-Chaude and the Terre-Tempérée."

"It seems to me to have been very badly named, for it is as hot now as the day when the south wind blew so strongly. Gringalet looks as if he was of my opinion, for he lolls his tongue out much more than usual."

"Upon my word!" cried Sumichrast, "Master Sunbeam's remark shows that he is a first-class observer. You are as right as you can be," continued he, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "In the plains of the Terre-Froide the heat is much more uncomfortable than in the Terre-Chaude itself, where an insensible perspiration always mitigates the oppressive rays of the sun. A few days' walking in this atmosphere will do more in bronzing our skins than all the rest of the journey."

My companion suddenly stopped short, and pointed to the horizon with his finger.

"That's smoke," cried Lucien.

"No, Chanito," replied l'Encuerado, "it is a tornado."

Seeing a slender column of dust rising up to the clouds, I had, at first sight, formed the same idea as my son. It was, in fact, nothing but a whirlwind of dust, which disappeared soon afterwards.

"There is no wind," observed Lucien; "how is it that the dust rises so high?"

"There is every cause for wonder," I replied, "for no savant has yet explained the real cause of this phenomenon."

"If we happened to be caught in one of these whirlwinds would it carry us away?"

"No, Chanito," replied the Indian, "it would be content with throwing us down."

"Then you've had some experience of them?"

"Yes; when I used to play with the children in our village, and a tornado came within reach, we were always delighted to run through it."

About a hundred paces from us, although there was not the slightest breeze in the air, the sand rose rapidly, whirling round and round. The rotation did not extend over a space of more than a few feet. There was no apparent cause for it, and the phenomenon ceased as unaccountably as it commenced.

Lucien was of course dying with anxiety to run through one of these tornadoes; but all that we saw were quite beyond reach.

"I think," said Sumichrast, addressing me, "when it is thoroughly studied on the great plains of Mexico, we shall be able to explain the cause of this phenomenon. In a general point of view, these whirlwinds are nothing but water-spouts in miniature."

"A water-spout!" asked Lucien; "what is that?"

"It is a natural phenomenon very like what you have just witnessed; but it is of a far more formidable character, for it destroys every thing it comes in contact with!"

"Did you ever see one, papa?"

"Only once, at sea. The English steamer on which I had embarked had just left the port of St. Thomas, in the West Indies, and we were still coasting the island; there was but a slight breeze blowing, the sky was clear, and the water rippled with miniature waves, when, all of a sudden, a large tract of the sea ahead of us was violently agitated. An enormous column of water rapidly rose, and formed something like a dark and terrible-looking column. After about a quarter of an hour, the fearful phenomenon, which fortunately had kept on moving before us, remained stationary. The volume, incessantly swelling, assumed a dark-blue shade, while the column of water, which appeared to feed a cloud, was of a gray color. A dull roaring noise like that of distant thunder suddenly occurred. The column broke in the middle, and the greater portion of the liquid fell into the sea with a tremendous shock; but the upper portion sprinkled us with a heavy shower. Half an hour afterwards we were sailing under a cloudless sky and over an unruffled ocean."

"And what would have happened if the water-spout had reached the ship?"

"We should most likely have been swamped."

"How dreadfully frightened you must have been, Tatita!"

"Yes, of course; and I was not the only one who was in terror; for the officers and sailors watched the course of the water-spout with evident anxiety."

Chatting in this way, we were now penetrating among Indian fig-trees —Cactus opuntia– commonly called prickly-pear trees. These plants, covered with yellow flowers, would, a month later, have been hailed with shouts of joy, for each of their upper stems would then bear one of those juicy fruits of which the Creoles are so fond. Lucien stopped in front of two or three of these plants, the dimensions of which were well calculated to surprise him. Sumichrast availed himself of this inspection to tell him that the cactus, a word derived from the Greek, and meaning thorny, is a native of America, and that it grows spontaneously in dry and sandy soil.

"You have forgotten to tell him," added l'Encuerado, "that the tender shoots of the tunero, baked under the ashes, will furnish us this evening with a most delicious dish."

A little farther on, the prickly pears were succeeded by another species called the Cierge (the Cactus cereus of savants). Several of these plants were growing with a single stem, and measured from ten to twelve feet in height, looking like telegraph poles; others had two or three shoots springing from them, which made them look still more singular. A third species, creeping over the ground, added much to the difficulty of our walking, and obliged us very often to take long strides to avoid them. In spite of all the care we could take, we scratched our limbs several times against their sharp spines.

I again took the lead – for there was not room between the cierges to walk abreast – and, climbing up a small hillock, surveyed a wide prospect. Such a complete change could not possibly have taken place in so short a time in any other country. More trees, more shrubs, more bushes! Everywhere the cactus might be seen assuming twenty different shapes – round, straight, conical, or flattened, and really seeming as if it delighted in assuming appearances so fantastic as almost to defy description. Here and there the cierges, standing side by side, seemed to vie with each other in height, sometimes attaining to as much as twenty to thirty feet, while the young shoots resembled a palisade, or one of those impenetrable hedges with which the Indians who live on the plateau surround their dwellings. Farther on, there were vast vegetable masses of a spherical shape, covered with rose-colored, horny, and transparent thorns, which displayed across our path all their huge rotundity, really exhibiting nothing vegetable to the eye but their color. Here and there, too, some creeping species, with their branches full of thorns, formed a perfect thicket; one might almost have fancied that they were a hundred-headed hydra.