The next day, which was the nineteenth since our departure from Orizava, we examined and compared our compasses, and the course of our journey was changed. Hitherto we had proceeded in a north-easterly direction, skirting the provinces of Puebla and Vera Cruz, but still without leaving the Cordilleras, the numerous valleys and forests of which are still unexplored. According to my calculations, and also those of Sumichrast, we were then abreast with the province of Mexico, and we agreed to move westward, as if going towards its capital.

"Why are we not to continue to keep straight on?" asked Lucien.

"Because our journey must have some limit," I replied. "Up to the present time we have only traversed what is called the Terre-TempÉrÉe; we shall now soon reach the Terre-Froide, and in three or four days we shall again encounter habitations."

"Shall we see any people there?"

"I hope so; don't you like the idea of it?"

"I don't object to it; but it will seem so very strange to look again at houses and men."

"Oh dear!" cried Sumichrast; "you have become a perfect little savage."

"Travelling about on foot is so amusing, that I should be glad if the journey lasted a very long time—that is, if I had a chance now and then of kissing mamma."

"Poor Sunbeam!" said Sumichrast; "I can't help thinking of next year when you are at school. You will then often think of your present life."

"Oh papa, if you go out for another excursion during the holidays, I hope you will take me with you, for you see I know how to walk."

"Before we think about another journey, let us first finish the present. You seem to forget that the roughest part of our work is yet before us."

"Do you mean crossing the Terre-Froide?"

"No; we shall only take a glimpse at that; but in the Terre-Chaude, we may meet with many trials."

"Bah!" said Lucien, kissing me; "the Terre-Chaude is almost like home; I shall behave so well, that you will be able to tell mamma that I am quite a man."

The sun was up when I gave the order for starting. Sumichrast went so far as to suggest that, after such a disturbed night, it would be better to spend another day in our charming retreat.

"That's the way," I answered, "in which effeminacy gets the better of energy, and cowardice of courage! Let us behave with more boldness, and not be seduced into delaying our journey."

My companion accepted the reproof, and without further delay our party were en route.

The stream pointed out to us the road we were to follow; along the edge of it, sheltered by the bushes and enlivened by the birds which were fluttering about the banks, we shaped our course. Sumichrast showed us some dahlias—the flower which would be so perfect if it only possessed a perfume. It is a perennial in Mexico, whence it has been imported into Europe, and there grows to a height of about three feet, producing only single flowers of a pale yellow color. By means of cultivation, varieties have been obtained with double flowers of a hundred different tints, which are such ornaments in our gardens. Many a Mexican, who imports dahlias at a great expense, has not the least idea that the plant is indigenous to his own soil.

The roots of the dahlia, salted and boiled, are eaten by the Indians; it is a farinaceous food of a somewhat insipid taste. Certainly, the wild potato is not much better; and who can tell whether cultivation, after having enriched our gardens with its beautiful flowers, may not also furnish our tables with the bulbs of this plant rendered more succulent by horticulture.

The course of the stream described numerous windings, and the desire of keeping on its margin frequently diverted us from our direct path; at last it doubled round short to the left, and I bade farewell to it as if to a friend, but, nevertheless, preserved a hope that its capricious course would again bring it back in our path.

Our road now commenced to ascend, sometimes crossing glades or groves. Suddenly a wide prairie opened out before us, and Sumichrast led the way through its tall reeds. After a quarter of an hour's walking, our guide began to sneeze; Lucien followed his example, then came l'Encuerado's turn, and at last mine, and ultimately Gringalet's. These repeated salvos were received with shouts of laughter and "God bless you," often repeated; but a sharp tingling in the throat and eyes was soon added to the sneezing.

"I say," cried my friend, "what does this joke mean?"

I looked round me more carefully, and discovered that we were surrounded with euphorbia plants.

But this mishap soon became a most serious affair, as the sneezing seemed as if it never would end, and our skin, eyes, and mouth commenced to burn as if in a fever. On this occasion we did not care even to construct a hut or light a fire, but were only too glad to lie down on the bare cold ground, and seek in sleep some respite from our sufferings.

Lucien, although very exhausted, endured his sufferings with such courage as made me proud of him. Uncomplaining, he soon went off to sleep; but to myself and companions such a luxury was refused.

At length, almost desperate, I woke up the Indian. Our faces had continued to swell, but the Mistec, regarding me with a stupefied look, simply grunted, and turned round to sleep again. However, it became important that we should have a fire lit to enable us to prepare our coffee: as for eating, I looked upon it as an impossible matter. With a slowness and awkwardness which I could not overcome, I succeeded in lighting some dry branches, and at length in making the water boil. I then called my companions; they drank the refreshing beverage, without showing any sign that they were conscious of the service I was rendering them, for immediately afterwards they again went to sleep.

It was at least ten o'clock by the sun when Lucien set us the example of rising. Suffering as we were, it was no use to think of resuming our journey; so we made a virtue of necessity, and remained stationary until we felt more fit to endure fatigue.

In the afternoon, Sumichrast and Lucien complained that they were famished, which was an excellent symptom; so we took our guns, and, following in Indian file, ascended the course of the stream.

We met with several pools of water, and then rocks strangely piled on one another, which had slipped down from the mountains above. I climbed the bank, feeling disposed to be content with the first game which presented itself. However, I could see nothing but some toucans, far too wary to get within gunshot of. At last a squirrel presented itself—a poor pittance for five hungry stomachs.

Sumichrast, who had gone on in front, suddenly stopped, and signed to us to be quiet. I glanced down the stream, and, near a hole full of water, I discovered an agouara, or washer raccoon, squatted down, dipping its paws into the water, and rubbing them together energetically. L'Encuerado fired; it gave a bound and fell over. A lizard it was which the animal was washing before devouring—a peculiar and inexplicable habit to which it owes its name. It had a gray coat, and a tapering muzzle like that of an opossum.

The agouara (Procyon cancrivorus) is frequently met with in Mexico. It is closely allied to the Bear family, but is much smaller and more active, and is both carnivorous and insectivorous. It climbs trees with ease, and, whenever it takes up its abode near any habitation, makes incessant raids upon poultry. It is tamed without difficulty, and will run to meet its master, and seems to value his caresses; yet, like the squirrel, which it resembles in its vivacity, it will suddenly bite the hand of any one who feeds it. The flesh of this animal is white, tender, and savory.

L'Encuerado had dug up some dahlia roots, which he baked under the ashes; but either this food was not exactly to our taste, or our still irritated palates could not appreciate its delicacy.

Night came on, and the sky was full of gray clouds violently driven by the wind, although just round us the trees remained quite motionless. It was now too late to construct a hut, and we all stretched ourselves, without other covering than the canopy of heaven, on beds of dry moss.

I woke up perished with cold; not a star appeared in the sky. Of the uneasiness produced by the euphorbia plants, nothing now remained but a sense of weight in the head and a slight inflammation in the throat. I tried to go to sleep again, and fell at length into a kind of painful torpor. I fancied I heard birds of prey crying, and a roaring noise in the recesses of the forest. I got up with a view of driving away this nightmare; but it was not a dream; the day was just breaking, and the birds were welcoming its advent with many a clamorous note. A dull roar, like that of a gale of wind rattling through a forest, resounded louder and louder. I called Sumichrast and l'Encuerado; the latter at once shouted out in horror—

"The torrent!"

Seizing Lucien, I carried him in my arms, while the Indian hastily gathered together all our travelling gear that lay scattered around. With powerful efforts I soon reached the top of the steep bank, followed by my companions and Gringalet. Lucien, suddenly disturbed in his sleep, scarcely had time to know what had happened. A furious uproar perfectly deafened us, and a flood of yellowish water came rushing by; I saw one of our coverings float off on its surface, and almost immediately, as if impelled by some superhuman force, the rocks came rolling down, dashing together under the force of the liquid avalanche.

One minute more and it would have been all over with us, or, at the very least, we should have lost all our baggage and weapons, without which our position must have been truly critical. As it was, our hats only had sailed off in company with our covering; this loss much vexed us, for none of us except l'Encuerado could walk with a bare head under the rays of a tropical sun. We should have been somewhat consoled by meeting with a palm-tree; but in the mean time, the Mistec, like all his countrymen, knew well how to meet such an emergency. So we covered our heads with the leaves of the water-lily, often used by the Indian women for a parasol.

We knew by experience the rapidity with which these mountain torrents will overflow. If it had been a month later during the rainy period, of course we should not have exposed ourselves to the peril of camping in the bed of a stream; for we had remarked the evening before that the sky was obscured by gray clouds, and this ought to have put us on our guard.

The furious waves continued to bear down with them, without any effort, immense masses of rock; but the body of the water, which did not increase, showed us that it would ebb as rapidly as it had swollen. L'Encuerado was obliged to content himself with some muddy water for making our coffee; but if we had pretended to preserve all the prejudices of civilized life, adieu to all our idea of traversing Mexico. Besides this, we had a fresh disaster to grieve over; the remainder of the raccoon, which we had kept for our breakfast, had been lost in company with our bag of rice.

We started again, not much enlivened by this series of misfortunes, satisfied with nibbling for breakfast some morsels of totopo. All our indisposition had now fortunately vanished, but we could not help feeling some degree of ill-will against both the euphorbias and the torrent. A long march, during which we several times left and rejoined the course of the stream, brought us close to a hill at the foot of which was a vast swamp. I gave the signal for halting. L'Encuerado in our march had gathered some reeds, and set to work to plait us hats. Leaving him with Lucien, Sumichrast and I went off in quest of game. On our return from an unproductive ramble, I saw that my son was already wearing a funnel-shaped head covering. L'Encuerado offered me a similar one, which, as my friend remarked, gave me the look of a Chinese. After having rested a short time, I thought about again looking for game; but the uproar of the torrent seemed to have frightened away all animal life.

This second ramble quite exhausted us, without producing any prey but a tanager, far too small to afford food for so many. L'Encuerado and Lucien, both out in the midst of the swamp, perceived us approaching. The young gentleman came running towards us, holding his newly-made hat in his hand; but, in his haste, he forgot that the bed of a marsh is almost always slippery, and he fell flat on his face among some aquatic plants. In one leap the Indian was close to him, and soon picked him up; but, instead of complaining of his fall, Lucien looked up at the Indian with a troubled face. The fact was, his hat held some fish he had caught with his insect-net, and at least a third of them had disappeared from his disaster.

"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.