It rained all night, and I awoke about seven o'clock in the morning shivering with cold. It was Ascension-day, and l'Encuerado, before making up the fire, chanted a canticle, and, after the manner of Roman Catholics, piously crossed himself. We were soon comforted with some coffee, and then, each of us resuming his burden, started off to reach the foot of the mountain. Before plunging into the forest, I could not help looking back with regret at the cave we had scarcely explored, and in which so many archÆological curiosities remained buried. The sun only showed itself at intervals through grayish-looking clouds driven violently along by the east wind. The state of the earth, moistened by rain which had lasted twenty-four hours, rendered our progression very difficult, for we were traversing a ferruginous soil. Such wretched walking put the finishing-stroke to our ill-humor by smearing and soiling our clothes; for my part, I inwardly anathematized travelling in general, more especially in rainy weather.

Just as we were emerging from this miserable ravine, Gringalet, who had no doubt scented something, suddenly rolled himself upon the ground, frantically. We had proceeded some distance before he rejoined us, covered with a coating of red clay, which gave him as singular an aspect as can well be imagined. The dog ran up and down, bounded about and barked, as if he was making it a business to amuse us. Nor were his efforts without success. We now reached a small plain, in which the sun flooded us with its warm rays. This had the effect of putting us into better humor; for our clothes dried, and with the warmth the feelings of discomfort to which we had been a prey departed.

We were again entering among trees, when l'Encuerado suddenly stopped.

"What is that moving down below there?" he said.

"Some deer," I replied, after looking at them through my glass.

Each of us hurried to hide behind a bush, in hopes that the beautiful animals would come within gunshot. Several times l'Encuerado expressed a wish to move round to the other side of the plain; but I opposed his idea, as the distance was too great. We spent more than an hour in watching the flock browsing, playing about, and licking themselves; but not one of them ventured in our direction. Tired with this inaction, Sumichrast emerged from his hiding-place, and the deer scampered off. Upon the whole, however, this delay had not been altogether useless; for, thanks to the heat of the sun, the ground had become more traversable, and my friend actually hummed a tune as he took the lead.

The time when we ought to have settled our bivouac had long passed, yet we were still on the road. The path we were treading was flat and unpromising, and the water from the cave, with which we had filled our gourds, was so unpleasant in taste that we longed to find a spring. Being unable to get a clear view of the horizon, I directed l'Encuerado to climb to the summit of a lofty tree. The Indian ascended to its topmost branch, and, having surveyed the prospect in every direction, came down far from pleased at having failed to discern what he desired. Fatigue, however, now compelled us to halt.

Our hut was soon constructed, the fire lighted, and the stew-pot filled with water and rice. Not one of us felt inspired with sufficient courage to induce him to go reconnoitring. An hour after sunset we were all sleeping side by side; l'Encuerado had quite forgotten his earth-nuts, and even dropped off to sleep without having been able to finish the chant which he commenced.

I was wakened up by the cries of the tanagers—a beautiful species of bird which lives in flocks. Lucien, like all the rest of us, complained of feeling rather stiff in the joints, resulting, no doubt, from our long journey the day before. On the morrow our little party started with rather a hobbling gait; the presence of the birds seemed to tell us that we were near some stream. Our limbs began gradually to lose their numbness; we were now descending an almost imperceptible slope, and the vegetation assumed a more tropical aspect. As we passed along, I noticed several pepper-plants; and next we came to bushes, round which myriads of cardinal birds were flying. Guided by these beautiful red-plumaged creatures, we suddenly found ourselves on the banks of a stream, running noiselessly over a bed of white sand.

With as little delay as possible, a fire gave forth its exhilarating flame. Butterflies, dragon-flies, and birds fluttered round the flowering shrubs. There was a perfect concert of buzzing and twittering, and a gentle breeze agitated the foliage and cooled the air. Nothing seemed wanting for our comfort but game for our dinner. Fortunately, Providence rarely does things by halves. We had scarcely sat down to take breath, when a flock of wild-ducks settled near us. They were at once saluted by a platoon fire, and four victims strewed the ground and water with their white, brown, and blue feathers.

"These are the first aquatic birds we have met with," said Sumichrast; "it will not be long now before we are among the marshes."

"What birds are wild-ducks related to?" asked Lucien.

"To swans and geese, Master Sunbeam," replied my friend. "All the individuals of this order, as their name—palmipedes, or web-footed birds—indicates, have their toes united by a wide membrane. Ducks, many species of which are found in Mexico, have a flat bill; and their short legs, placed so far behind, compel them to waddle in walking, although they can swim with great facility."

"How do they manage to perch on a tree with feet of that kind?"

"With the exception of the wood-duck, this family never perch; they pass the day in dabbling in the water, and sleep upon its surface, or among the reeds."

"Then they must always be wet."

"Not so; nature has covered the feathers of web-footed birds with an oily substance, which renders their plumage quite water-proof. Ducks are gregarious, and migrate from one locality to another, according to the seasons. They are so common on the lagoons which surround the city of Mexico, that sportsmen scarcely will be troubled shooting them."

While l'Encuerado was preparing dinner, I and my companions walked along the edge of the stream. Before long I discovered some water-cress—a lucky discovery for travellers who are confined constantly to animal food. Lucien examined the small white flowers, which have obtained for all its family the name of CruciferÆ; these vegetables contain an acrid and volatile oil, which gives them strong anti-scorbutic qualities. The cabbage (Brassica oleracea), turnip (B. napus), radish (Raphanus sativus), and mustard (Sinapis alba), are of the crucifera order. To this list we must also add the horse-radish, the colza, the seed of which produces an oil well adapted for lighting purposes; the crysimum, or hedge-mustard, a popular remedy in France for coughs; the shepherd's purse, which the Mexicans use as a decoction for washing wounds; and the Lepidium piscidium, employed by the natives of Oceanica for intoxicating fish, so as to catch them more easily.

"You quite forget the cochlearia, or scurvy-grass, so useful to sailors as a remedy for scurvy?" said Sumichrast.

"You are right; but I think I've said enough about the CruciferÆ for Master Sunbeam to remember."

A few paces farther on, while we were looking for insects under the leaves of a shrub, Lucien drew back in surprise at seeing it covered with the pretty little creatures called tree-frogs (Hyla viridis). Instead of flying towards the water, these reptiles made for the woods. Sumichrast explained to the young naturalist that tree-frogs have sticky disks on their feet, and by the aid of this mechanism they could move about on leaves and even on smooth surfaces.

"In Europe," he added, "the peasants shut them up in bottles half full of water, and assert that the animal predicts good or bad weather by either coming up to the top or keeping under the water. The tree-frog, like all its fellows, buries itself in the mud during winter, and remains torpid. This lethargy, which in glacial climates has the effect of preserving it from hunger, must in Mexico have some other cause, for in the latter country it can find food all the year round. The skin of the tree-frog secretes a poisonous matter."

"Come here and look at an apple-tree!" cried Lucien, suddenly.

I hastened to the spot, and found a shrub about thirteen or fourteen feet high, covered with berries of a yellowish color, spotted with red. I recognized what is called in the Antilles the soap-tree. This discovery came just in the nick of time, and Sumichrast helped us in gathering some of the useful fruit which would assist us to give our clothes a thorough wash. Lucien tasted the little apples, which were as transparent as artificial fruit made of pure wax; but he did not like their astringent flavor, and threw them away with every expression of disgust.

A quarter of an hour later, we were all kneeling on the banks of the stream and trying who could perform the greatest amount of washing, the fruit of the soap-tree affording us a plentiful supply of lather. In the Terre-TempÉrÉe, a root called amoli is a substitute for soap; in the Terre-Chaude a bulb named amolito is used for the same purpose; lastly, in the Mistec province of Oajaca, the poor find a natural soap in the bark of the Quillaja saponaria, a tree belonging to the rose tribe. Even in Europe, a vegetable soap is also found—the soap-wort—a little plant allied to the pinks, and which adorns with its unpretending flowers the edges of ditches, and is employed by housewives for cleaning silk stuffs and reviving their faded colors.

Quite refreshed with our wash, we stretched ourselves close to the camp fire, looking forward to our meal of roast ducks dressed with cresses, rice, and seasoned with allspice. On taking the first mouthful, I made a grimace which was imitated by Sumichrast. The rice had an unbearable aromatic taste. L'Encuerado regarded us with a triumphant look.

"What on earth have you put in the saucepan?" I cried, angrily.

"Don't you think it is nice, Tatita?"

"It's perfectly filthy; you've poisoned us!" But I soon recognized the smell of a kind of coriander with which the Indians occasionally saturate their food. Sumichrast, like me, had not got beyond the first mouthful; but Lucien, who shared to some extent l'Encuerado's weakness for the culantro, was having quite a feast. Our bill of fare was thus reduced to a single dish, and I left the broiled duck to my two companions and confined myself to the roast. With an artlessness that approached the sublime, the Indian, thinking that we should prefer the fresh plant to the cooked, the odor of which had been somewhat softened down by the operation, presented us with several stalks. On the whole, however, he was not altogether to blame, for we often ate with pleasure his national style of cookery, and he had full right to be surprised at our repugnance to their favorite bon bouche.

Gringalet just tasted the rice, then retired to roll on the twigs of coriander which were lying on the ground, a proceeding which did not much improve his toilet.

The sun was setting, and hundreds of birds were assembling around us. Yellow, blue, green, or red wings were cleaving the air in all directions.

There were finches of a violet-black, with orange-colored breasts and heads, some blue or golden-throated grossbeaks, and birds adorned with a variety of coloring, which the Mexicans call "primroses," while a number of mockingbirds were warbling airs worthy of the nightingale. The sun, lost amidst the golden clouds, bathed the trees and bushes with a soft light. Gradually all became silent and nothing was heard but the murmur of the stream, while birds of prey soared over our heads on their way to the mountains. The eastern sky was now wrapped in shade and the stars twinkled in the dark heavens, while on every bush animated sparks appeared to flit about.

I had been asleep more than two hours, when I was suddenly awakened by Gringalet barking. I jumped up simultaneously with my companions, who were also alarmed by a rustling among the dry leaves. Silence was soon restored, and I fancied, although the dog continued to growl, that it was a false alarm; so I was about to lie down again, when Sumichrast's hand touched me on the shoulder. An enormous serpent was gliding over the ground beside us.

I at once recognized the black sugar-cane snake, which is only formidable on account of its size; the planters are in the habit of attracting it to their fields, to keep them clear of mischievous rodents. L'Encuerado noiselessly left the hut. The snake raised its head, and slowly contracting its rings, and throwing round a bright glance, turned towards us. Sumichrast was just taking aim, when we heard the report of a gun, and our hut was almost in a moment afterwards crushed in by the repeated and furious struggles of the wounded reptile.

There was one moment of utter confusion; I disengaged myself as soon as I could, at the same time protecting the stupefied Lucien, and drawing him away. When I turned round, Sumichrast was approaching l'Encuerado, who, cutlass in hand, was hacking at the serpent, to render it further incapable of mischief.At last the fragments of the black snake, blindly tumbling about, became lost in the thicket, and all was again quiet.

"Well," said Sumichrast, "if, instead of being frightened, we had only kept quiet, the snake would not have troubled us, and we should still have had our house to shelter us."

"All's well that ends well," I replied, smiling. L'Encuerado again made up the fire; Lucien complimented the dog on his watchfulness, who thereupon licked his face. This undue familiarity drew upon him a lecture on politeness, the end of which I was too sleepy to hear.