Adventures of a Young Naturalist

Our attention was again attracted towards the forest by the cries of five or six toucans, and again we set off in chase. These birds are extremely suspicious, and their capricious flight almost baffles pursuit. I succeeded, however, in killing one; the others flew off, raising cries of anger.

"How can they bear the weight of such an enormous beak?" asked Lucien, who had run to pick up the bird, and was struck with admiration at its beautiful green and yellow plumage.

"Nature has made provision for that: the enormous beak, which seems so heavy, is composed of a very light porous substance."

"Then it can not eat any thing hard?"

"No; its flexible beak could not crush any unyielding substance, and it feeds on nothing but soft fruits; and even these it breaks up awkwardly. If we could have got near them, you would have seen them plucking berries and tossing them in the air, so as to catch them in their immense jaws."

"What good is its great mouth?"

"I can't say; for the naturalists, who have been as much puzzled as you are by this peculiarity, have been unable to explain it."

"Then I am more learned than they are," said l'Encuerado, with a magisterial air.

"Do you know, then, why toucans have such exaggerated beaks?"

"Because they have been made by a wise Creator," replied the Indian.

"No doubt about that," remarked Sumichrast, smiling; "but the point is, why they were made so."

"Because their beak, calcined and reduced to powder, is the only efficacious remedy for epilepsy. Toucans are very scarce birds, and if their beaks were no larger than those of other birds of their size, this medicine could never be obtained in sufficient quantities."

L'Encuerado's explanation was perhaps as good as our uncertainty. I remember that the Indians do, in fact, make a great mystery of a powder against epilepsy, and that a toucan's head may often be noticed hanging up to the wall of a hut, as a preservative against St. Vitus' dance.

Instead of resting, Lucien prowled about in every direction, breaking away bark, and lifting stones with all the ardor of a neophyte in entomology. Since meeting with the coral-serpent, he took precautions which gave me confidence; for it is quite uncertain how a reptile or any other creature may behave when it is disturbed. The child suddenly called out to me; he had just discovered a nest of scolopendræ, commonly called centipedes, and he was afraid to touch them. The centipedes, surprised at being disturbed, rolled themselves up; their pale blue color somewhat diminishing the repugnance which their appearance generally excites. It was not without some hesitation that Lucien, encouraged by Sumichrast, ventured to place one on the palm of his hand; the insect gradually unrolled its articulations, each of which was provided with two pairs of feet ending in hooks, but its walk was so slow as rather to disappoint the young observer.

"What is the use of having forty-four feet," he cried, "if the centipede can not get on faster than a carabus, which only has six?"

L'Encuerado could alone explain this mystery; but still he kept silence.

"Are these creatures poisonous, M. Sumichrast?"

"It is said so; but some species – that, for instance, which you are examining – may be handled without danger."

"Here is a little centipede with only twelve legs."

"It has only just come out of the egg; their rings increase in number as they grow older, and this is one of their peculiarities."

"How hard the rings, are! they are almost like armor."

"It is armor, in fact; the scolopendræ form a line of demarkation, so to speak, separating insects from crustaceans; centipedes are not very distant relations of lobsters."

"Look, papa! I have just found a chocolate-colored worm, which looks like a centipede."

"That's not a worm; it is an iulus, first cousin to the centipede. Don't take it up in your hand, for it will impregnate your fingers with a sickening odor."

We resumed our progress towards our encampment, Lucien and l'Encuerado preceding us. The weather was warm without being suffocating; the slanting rays of the sun were moderated by the foliage, the birds were singing, and to-day, like yesterday, seemed as if it would be one of the least fatiguing in our journey. We were now in the midst of the Terre-Tempérée, and were surrounded by white and black oaks. Ceibas, elm, cedars, and lignum-vitæ trees only grew here and there; and the mosquitoes, so plentiful in the Terre-Chaude, did not trouble us here. The timber, growing widely apart, allowed us to pass easily; we were in a virgin-forest, but were still too high up above the plains to have to struggle against the inextricable net-work of tropical creepers.

The tuza made its appearance at our dinner, dressed with rice. Although the appearance of this animal is repulsive, its flesh has an exquisite flavor. I offered a piece of the thigh to Lucien; he found it so nice, that he soon held out his plate – or rather his calabash – for more. Sumichrast told him he was eating some of the mole, though not aware of it: he appeared confused at first, but soon boldly began on his second helping. After the meal, l'Encuerado took from an aloe-fibre bag a needle and bodkin, and set to work to mend Lucien's breeches, torn a day or two before. Two squirrels' skins were scarcely sufficient for the would-be tailor, who lined the knees also with this improvised cloth. Lucien was delighted at this patching, and wanted to try on his mended garment at once. He waddled about, ran, and stooped in every posture, quite fascinated with the rustling noise produced by the dry skins. Gringalet, who had been asleep, suddenly came up to his young master with visible surprise. With his neck stretched out, his eyes glittering, and his ears drooping, ready to retreat in case of need, the dog ventured to take a sniff at l'Encuerado's work, then shook his head energetically and sneezed. After repeating this operation two or three times he seemed to be lost in thought.

"He knows all about it, and can see at once that it is not badly sewn," said l'Encuerado, with evident satisfaction.

But all of a sudden, after a final and more conscientious examination, the animal began barking furiously, and seizing hold of the patches that had been so industriously sewn in, he tried to tear them away.

"The simpleton fancies the squirrel is still alive!" cried the Indian.

Although driven away at least twenty times, Gringalet kept on returning to the attack, and he assailed the trowsers with so much ardor that a fresh rent was made. Then l'Encuerado became angry, and the dog having been punished, went and crouched down by the fire; but he still continued to show his teeth at the strange lining which seemed so offensive to him.

The sun was setting; its golden rays, quivering among the branches, appeared one by one to get higher and higher until gloom began gradually to pervade the forest. We were assembled around our bivouac, when a rosy tint suddenly illumined the tops of the trees and penetrated through the foliage. As this marvellous effect of light appeared to last a considerable time, we again went into the open glade, so as to be better able to observe it. The sky appeared as if it was all in a blaze; vast glittering jets of light seemed as if darting from the setting sun; a few clouds, tinted with bright red color, flitted across the heavens. The bright gleam became more and more vivid, but without at all dazzling our eyes. A few birds might be heard uttering shrill cries; and the falcons, who were making their way to their aeries, stopped for a moment their rapid flight, and whirled round and round in space with an undecided air.

"The wind will blow tremendously to-morrow," said l'Encuerado; "only once before did I ever see the sky lighted up as it is to-night, and then two days after there was a frightful hurricane, which demolished most of the huts in our village."

"I think we shall get off with nothing but a south wind like that which worried us the day we set off," said Sumichrast.

Wrongly or rightly, I attributed this phenomenon of light to the position of the clouds. The intensity of the light decreased till it was nothing but a glimmer. Night resumed its empire, and there was naught to guide us back to our bivouac but the flame of our fire.

CHAPTER IX

THE SOUTH WIND. – THE HURRICANE. – A FEARFUL NIGHT. – THE UPROOTED GIANT. – THE SARSAPARILLA-PLANT. – GRINGALET DISCOVERS A SPRING. – OUR BIVOUAC

L'Encuerado's prediction seemed as if it was likely to be realized. About three o'clock in the morning we were awakened by a hoarse roaring; the trees seemed to shiver; sometimes the uproar appeared to grow less and almost to cease, and then broke out again louder than ever. I hastened to warm some coffee; but two or three times the intermittent squalls scattered the burning fagots of our fire, and the hot ashes nearly blinded us. This mishap was owing to the open glade being so near to us, across which the wind rushed furious and unrestrained. Almost before daylight appeared, I led my companions farther under the trees, the state of the atmosphere making me feel very uncomfortable. The lofty tree-tops, roughly shaken by the wind, showered down upon us a perfect hail of twigs and dead leaves. We were almost deafened by the noise of the clashing boughs; sad and silent we proceeded on our way, perceiving no signs of any living creature, and in much trouble how we should obtain our dinners.

Towards mid-day, the wind fell; puffs of heat, which seemed to spring from the ground beneath, almost suffocated us. Lucien did not say a word, but, in spite of my advice, he was constantly lifting his gourd to his lips, a proceeding which could only excite his thirst. Gringalet, instead of frolicking about, as was his custom, followed us closely, drooping his ears and tail. We were, I believe, the only living beings moving under the shade, which now seemed converted into a hot furnace.

Meeting with some rocks, we made up our minds to hurry on, thinking to come upon a stream; a vain hope! – the rocks soon came to an end, and were succeeded by a perfect labyrinth of trees. If there had only been a little grass, we should have set to work to construct our hut; for the dry heat, blown up by the south wind, rendered exertion almost unbearable.

A second time we found ourselves among rocks; but they were so enormous, and so close together, that it was evident we were in the vicinity of a mountain.

"Hiou! hiou! Chanito," cried the Indian, joyously; "forward! forward! we are very nearly at the end of our troubles."

The boy smiled and adopted the swift pace of his guide, while Sumichrast lengthened his strides so as to get in front of me. Following my companions, we soon came upon a dry, barren spot in front of a steep ascent. After we had all taken breath, I gave it as my opinion that we should overcome our fatigue and scale the side of the mountain; but no one showed any inclination to move.

My poor Lucien lay panting on the hard stones, with his mouth dry, his lips bleeding, and his face purple with the heat; he had thought the day's work was over. Nevertheless, as soon as he saw us starting again, up he got and followed us without a word of complaint. I wished to lighten his burden; but he heroically refused, and proportioned his pace to that of l'Encuerado. Gringalet was continually sitting down, and hanging out his tongue to a most enormous length; it was, doubtless, his way of testifying that he moved an amendment against the length of the journey.

"We were quite wrong in finding fault with the shade," said Sumichrast; "for in this unsheltered spot the heat is more insupportable than under the trees. The sun seems to dart into us as if its rays were needles' points."

"Don't drink, Chanito! don't drink!" cried l'Encuerado to Lucien.

The poor little fellow replaced the gourd at his side, and bent on me such a heart-rending look that I caught him up in my arms.

"Let us make a halt," said my friend, who was sheltering himself under a gigantic rock; "I confess that I am dead-beat."

It was a great relief when we were seated down and deprived of our burdens; but, instead of setting to work, according to our usual custom, to collect wood for our fire and to construct our hut, we remained idle, looking at the horizon, without exchanging a single word. At our feet extended, as far as we could see, the tree-tops of an immense forest. We had turned our backs upon the volcano of Orizava; on our right the black summits of the Cordillera stood out against the red sky; the urubu vultures were whirling round and round high up above us – the only living creatures we had set eyes on since the evening before.

It was now four o'clock; a kind of hot blast beat into our faces, producing the same sensation as that experienced in front of a furnace when the door is suddenly opened. The south wind sprung up again, and squall succeeded squall – the forest undulating like a liquid surface.

I in vain endeavored to overcome the state of nervous prostration which had come over me; the terrible wind which parched and burned us took away all power of will. Our eyes were inflamed, our lips cracked, and our heads heavy, and no one cared about eating; all we longed for was water, and we were obliged to watch Lucien, to prevent him emptying his gourd. He was nibbling a morsel of totopo, which he, like us, could hardly swallow. Sheltered behind the rock, we contemplated with dread the colossal trees round us, which swayed and bent, sprinkling the ground with their scattered boughs.

The sun set, pale and rayless, as if drowned in the ill-omened yellow clouds. The wind kept puffing and blowing at intervals. A few minutes' lull enabled us to collect a little grass, and then, seated side by side, we watched the approach of night, dark, desolate, and starless; but the comparative coolness of the atmosphere gave some little relief to our exhausted lungs. Lucien went off to sleep; Sumichrast and l'Encuerado tried to follow his example; Gringalet seemed afraid to go far away, and crouched down at our feet. Ere long, I was the only one of the party who was awake.

What an awful night! About nine o'clock the squalls ran riot with unexampled violence; if it had not been for our shelter behind the rock, we should surely have been swept away. From the forest beneath came a roar like that of waves beating against a cliff; branches broke off with an uproar sounding like a series of gun-shots, and the leaves, driven by the wind, covered us with their débris. Every now and then an inexplicable and increasing hoarse rumbling filled my mind with anxiety. I listened, holding my breath with fear; the rumbling seemed to approach, as if bringing with it new and unknown perils. Then suddenly, prevailing over the tumult, a formidable crash made itself heard, followed by a shock prolonged by the echoes; it was the fall of some forest giant, vanquished by the hurricane. Sometimes one might have fancied that a multitude of men were fighting together in the darkness that no eye could pierce; there were plainly to be recognized the wild cries of the conflict and the plaintive moans of the wounded; and then, again, a fresh shock shook the earth, and deadened the outburst of the mighty lament.

I must confess that at this moment I bitterly regretted having brought Lucien; I remembered that my friends had predicted to me all the perils which now threatened us. While listening to the uproar of the tempest, I felt my resolution give way, and I had serious thoughts of returning to Orizava the next day.

Towards midnight the storm abated a little, and, giving way to fatigue, I fell asleep.

I had only just closed my eyes when I suddenly jumped up again, deafened as if by a hundred claps of thunder joined in one. The darkness was as thick as ever, and the wind was still more boisterous; the echo of the fallen tree had scarcely died away before another colossus groaned and fell. My companions were now all awake.

"What's the matter, M. Sumichrast?" asked Lucien, in a low tone.

"It is a hurricane, my boy."

"One might fancy that a giant was passing through the wood, shouting and whistling, and breaking down all the trees as he went along."

"I wish that was all," replied Sumichrast; "but it's something much worse; it is the south wind, the sirocco of the Mexican coast."

"Will it sweep us away, M. Sumichrast?"

"I hope not; thanks to the rock which shields us."

A tree now fell close to us, and covered us with dust. Clinging tightly to one another, every moment brought with it a fresh anxiety. We dared not speak of our feelings, for fear of frightening our young companion, who pressed close up to me. Amidst the universal destruction going on, it only needed a branch driven by the squall to dislodge our shelter, for us to be swept away like chaff before the wind. I had witnessed many a hurricane, but this fearful night exceeded all.

At last daylight appeared; the sun rose gloomily, and exposed the disasters of the terrible night. On every side trees, broken and uprooted, lay prostrate on the ground, or, half suspended by the creepers entangled in their branches, were balanced like the formidable battering-rams of the ancients. Lucien was speechless at the sight before his eyes. A sudden cracking noise was heard, and another forest giant slowly bent over, and, describing a rapid curve, crushed its branches against the ground; ten seconds destroyed the work of centuries.

L'Encuerado attempted to go two or three yards beyond our rock; but, surprised by a sudden gust, he had but just time to throw himself prostrate on the ground to prevent being swept away. Something, however, had to be done; it was no use trying to light a fire, and yet, after yesterday's fast and a sleepless night, we felt great need of some comforting beverage. The squalls gradually abated, but were still every now and then violent. Intervals of profound silence succeeded to the uproar of the storm, when the leaves were motionless; then we might have fancied the tempest was over. But suddenly the frightful roar again commenced, and the gale covered the ground with fresh fragments.

We were beginning to take courage a little, when a formidable crash resounded above us; an enormous pine, growing on the mountain a hundred feet over our heads, tottered and then fell, tumbling down the slope with a horrible uproar. Quick as lightning, l'Encuerado seized Lucien, and lay down with him along the foot of the rock; I and my friend immediately followed his example. The fallen giant came crashing down in rapid bounds, smashing every thing in its path, and accompanied in its descent by masses of broken rock. It struck against the block that sheltered us, which gave forth a dull sound, but fortunately resisted the shock; and then the tree, clearing the obstacle with a prodigious bound, continued its impetuous course down to the foot of the mountain. We were nearly crushed by a perfect avalanche of stones which followed in its wake.

I raised myself, not without emotion. The danger had been serious; indeed, the enormous rock to which we owed our safety had slightly swerved. If this accident had occurred in the middle of the night, the fright would have driven us out of our place of shelter, and we should certainly have been destroyed. I first returned thanks to God, and then to l'Encuerado, who, being close to Lucien, had shielded the boy with his own body. The child, who fully comprehended the danger, hung round the Indian's neck.

"I shall tell mamma that you saved my life!" cried he, kissing l'Encuerado.

The latter would have replied, but, affected by the caresses of his young favorite, he could only press him in his arms, while two tears trickled down his dark cheeks.

"His lordship, the wind, is very good to take so much trouble to show us his power," exclaimed the Indian, addressing the wind, in order to hide his emotion; "a grand miracle, indeed! to uproot a pine that was going to die of old age, and to roll it down a mountain-side! Why, I could do the same if I chose, with the help of my machete. Oh yes! blow away! and knock down another tree on us, and then you'll thoroughly convince us that the devil is your patron!"

In spite of the serious nature of the occurrence, Gringalet was the only one among us who could hear this speech without a smile; and even the dog rubbed up against the orator's legs, as if to show his approval of all he had said.

The hurricane now subsided; but it was likely enough to redouble its intensity at night, and reason dictated that we should take advantage of the calm for moving onward. L'Encuerado resumed his load, and with a watchful eye led the way up the mountain. I took Lucien by the hand; for there was a danger that some tree which had been shaken by the storm might suddenly fall across our path.

The heat, which continued to inconvenience us, rendered walking a very laborious effort. The lips of our young companion were all cracked, and he spoke with difficulty. We suffered dreadfully from thirst; but it was necessary to bear it patiently, and to be very saving with the small stock of water which still remained in our gourds. Soon we came upon the spot where, an hour before, the tree had stood, the fall of which had so nearly crushed us. A widely gaping hole exposed to our view the broken roots of the colossus, and the earth round them was already dry. We pushed on with much difficulty, exhausted, out of breath, and half famished; for, since the night before, we had eaten nothing but some morsels of maize-cake. Moreover, our eyes were so red and swollen that we were perfectly disfigured.

"Oh, father, I am so tired!" said Lucien to me.

"So we all are, my poor boy; but we must pluck up our spirits again, and keep on walking, for our lives depend on it."

"Father, I am so thirsty! and the water left in my gourd is quite warm."

"It will be better for you not to drink; for a few draughts of water taken when walking increase perspiration, and make the thirst worse, instead of quenching it."

The poor little fellow heaved a sigh, and crept closer to my friend, who advised him to place in his mouth a small pebble, which alleviates thirst by exciting salivation.

In spite of all our exertions, we made little or no advance, and a profuse perspiration added to our exhaustion. Fortunately, every thing seemed to indicate that the tempest was over. L'Encuerado led the way; his manner appeared as if searching for something. At length I saw him throw down his load and plunge into the thicket. Soon he reappeared, with his hands full of a kind of mulberry, the fruit of the sarsaparilla, the acid flavor of which much revived Lucien. We now understood l'Encuerado's peculiar way of walking. He fancied he had noticed a young shoot of this plant, and at first concealed the discovery from us, fearing some deception. I can hardly describe the pleasure that was afforded us by obtaining these berries in such a welcome time. This shrub, with its vine-like and thorny stalk, abounded on the steep slope.

We resumed our march in much better spirits, thanks to this God-send. L'Encuerado filled his cap with them, and walked on bravely, with his head bare. Another half-hour's climbing brought us to the verge of the forest. Suddenly I lost sight of Gringalet. I called him several times, and at last he emerged from a clump of shrubs, with his tail and muzzle wet. Sumichrast rushed in search of the water, and soon cried out to us in a joyous voice —

"A spring! a spring!"

We all tried who could get to it first. Under the foliage of sarsaparilla our companion was kneeling down and catching in his hands a little streamlet of limpid water, which was trickling from between two rocks. With keen enjoyment, he was sprinkling it over his face and arms, an example each of us soon imitated. At last I hurried our party away, for the horrible roaring of the hurricane still seemed to din in my ears, and as yet we had no shelter within our reach. After having filled our gourds, we recommenced our climbing, enlivened by l'Encuerado, who kept on congratulating Gringalet upon his discovery, and promising him, as his reward, a whole series of good dinners.

The hour was now approaching at which we feared that the hurricane would recommence with redoubled violence; so it became highly necessary to select a spot for our bivouac. Moss and lichens here covered the rocks with a variegated carpet, and, in proportion as we ascended the mountain, the cooler air relieved our lungs. At length our ascent came to an end, and we found ourselves on a plateau dotted over with stunted shrubs, distorted and twisted with the winds and storms. Fresh summits rose in front of us, but they were too far off to cause us any fear. Sumichrast halted near three gigantic stones, placed so as to leave a space between them, in which we could encamp, as if in a fortress.