Buch lesen: «Adventures of a Young Naturalist», Seite 15

"The avocado pear-tree, I should think, has no relations among trees!" said Lucien, smiling.

"Yes, certainly it has. It belongs to the Laurel family, and is the only member of it which produces eatable fruit. Its connections, though, occupy an important position in domestic economy. First, there is the bay-tree —Laurus nobilis– the leaves of which are indispensable in French cookery; while the berries furnish an oil used in medicine. Next comes the Laurus camphora, from the leaves of which camphor is extracted, the crystallized essence which evaporates so easily; then the Laurus cinnamomum, the bark of which is called cinnamon; and, lastly, sassafras, the aromatic wood which is said to be a powerful sudorific."

Our guide conducted us across a field of Indian corn or maize. Europe is indebted to America for this valuable gramineous plant. The common bread or tortilla of this country, which is a kind of pancake, is made from it. Before the maize is quite ripe, it is eaten boiled or parched; in fact, generally throughout America, it is used instead of barley or oats for feeding horses and cattle.

As soon as Torribio entered his own plantation, he bent down a few twigs of the masorcas without dividing them from the stem.

"Why do you bend those poor plants like that? Won't they die?" cried Lucien.

"Yes; in the first place, because they are annuals, and our guide only hastened their death a few days; besides, the ears he cut are ripe, and will dry hanging to the stems which have nourished them. This method is as simple as it is expeditious, but could only be put into practice in countries where winter is nothing but a spring."

Behind the maize-field there was a hedge covered with long filaments of a golden-yellow color. These filaments, which were entirely devoid of leaves, grew all over the shrubs almost like a thick cloak.

"What is the name of this wonderful plant?" asked Lucien.

"It is the sacatlascale," answered Torribio.

"It is a sort of dodder," added Sumichrast, "a plant of the Convolvulus family. The European species is destroyed, because it twines round certain vegetables and chokes them. Here, however, the sacatlascale is allowed to grow, because some use has been found for it."

"What could be made of these stalks, which are so delicate that they break if I merely touch them?"

"They are first bruised, and then dried in the sun," replied Torribio. "When they want to dye a black or yellow hue, all they have to do is to boil the paste in iron, or mix it with alum."

While we were climbing the banks of the ravine, Lucien availed himself of such a good opportunity by smearing his hands all over with this bright yellow substance. When we reached a certain height, we lay down on the grass. With one glance we could take in the whole of this small oasis. The stream meandered along, shaded with green trees; here and there, among clumps of Bourbon palms, we could discern huts irregularly dotted about. I turned my eyes towards our host's threshold, and, through my glass, perceived l'Encuerado, who was still preaching. He had evidently left off chanting, for his hearers were seated round him on the ground.

Lucien took possession of the telescope, and I noticed that Torribio also seemed very anxious to try the instrument. I told the boy to lend it to him. Our guide, seeing trees brought so close to him, could not at first account for this optical effect. I then directed the glass so that he could see the group of Indians, and I never saw any human face manifest such complete surprise. The Indian, who appeared perfectly charmed, could not long maintain his gravity. Every time he succeeded in discovering a hut, he hardly gave himself time to look at it, but rolled on the ground bursting with laughter. Two or three times I put out my hand to take back the telescope, but Torribio hugged it to his breast, just like a child when any one attempts to take a plaything away. At last he consented to give it to me, and I felt really sorry that I had not another glass to offer him.

Sumichrast led the way round the end of the ravine. Suddenly the birds, which were warbling on the banks of the stream, all flew away; a goshawk was hovering above us in the sky. As it was flying swiftly through the air, it passed us within gunshot; a shot struck it, and, tumbling over and over, it fell to the ground about twenty paces from us. Lucien immediately ran to pick it up.

"It is a falcon!" he cried.

"You are right," replied Sumichrast; "it is the Cayenne goshawk, which is characterized by having a head covered with ash-colored feathers, by a brown body, and black feathers in its tail."

"Will you skin it?"

"Yes, certainly, Master Sunbeam; firstly, because this is any thing but a common bird; and, secondly, during the few days we shall stay here, we must endeavor to fill the boxes which we have had so much difficulty in making."

At this moment a finch, with red, brown, and white feathers, settled near us.

"It is the Pyrrhula telasco," said my friend, "a species discovered by Lesson, the celebrated ornithologist, in his journey to Lima. Ah! if I wasn't so economical with the powder – "

"I have some powder," muttered Torribio.

"You have some powder!" I cried; "will you sell us some?"

"No," answered the Indian, dryly.

"Why not?" was my rejoinder. "Are you also a sportsman? Besides, if you are, you will soon be going to Puebla, where you could get a fresh supply."

"I never sell my powder," was the terse response.

"Very well, then, let us say no more about it."

We crossed over the stream by means of a tree which stretched from one bank to the other. Ere the sun ceased to gild the ravine with its rays we found ourselves opposite to the dwelling of the Indian patriarch, which overlooked a hut similar to that of our guide. The sky was a pale blue, and we had a glimpse of the monotonous plain dotted over with the sombre cactus-plant; while just below us figured the fresh oasis, rendered all the more charming by the contrast. The birds warbled in the shrubs, and one by one flew away in order to return to the trees, among the branches of which they had perhaps first crept out of the paternal nest. A warm breeze was blowing when we got up to return to the village.

"I have some powder!" exclaimed the Indian, abruptly.

"Yes, very likely, but I also know that you don't wish to sell any."

"No, I don't."

The powder is surely mine, I thought to myself; and, after walking about twenty paces, I again took up the subject.

"Even if your powder was very good, I wouldn't buy it of you; I know men like you mean what they say; nevertheless, if you like, I will make an exchange."

"What could you give me?" replied Torribio, with affected indifference; "I don't want any of your birds, and my gun is quite as good as yours, if not better."

"That's true enough, therefore say no more about it."

And I continued to follow my guide, who walked slowly on. He soon turned round again.

"The magic glass," said he, with a great effort.

"Come! now we've got to the point," murmured Sumichrast.

"It is a bargain, if your powder is good," said I.

"Will you really give the glass to me?" cried the Indian, his eyes lighting up with joy.

"I am always a man of my word," I replied.

Torribio hurried on so fast that Lucien was obliged to run in order to keep up with us. After crossing the stream, our guide conducted us to his hut, and showed us four cases of American powder which was quite sound, and more than five or six pounds of assorted shot.

I was overjoyed at this discovery; but I maintained an indifference quite equal to that of our guide, who was squatting down on the ground with his chin resting between his knees.

"Here is the telescope," I said.

His features remained perfectly motionless, but his eyes sparkled and his hand trembled slightly as he seized the object of his longing. I showed him how to use and clean the instrument; then, loaded with the boxes, which were so precious to me, and followed by my companions, I returned to Coyotepec's dwelling.

"Why didn't Torribio say at once that he was willing to exchange his powder for the telescope?" asked Lucien.

"The reason is, because an Indian always tries to conceal his wishes and passions."

"But why didn't you offer him the instrument directly?"

"If I had shown too much eagerness, very probably he would have refused to make an exchange, and the Indian seldom retracts what he has once said."

Of course, l'Encuerado, always the most extravagant in its use, was perfectly delighted to see our stock of ammunition trebled.

We had scarcely finished our dinner, when we heard the sound of a guitar: the Mistec, after having preached, had succeeded in convincing his congregation that a dance was the proper method of winding up the day. The space in front of the patriarch's dwelling having been swept, and two crackling fires lighted, ere long the women made their appearance, in what they considered full dress, and their hair loaded with flowers. The national air of the Jarabe was played, and the dancers trod the measure with energy. Lucien, who had joined the crowd, wanted to teach the polka and waltz to the Indian children. Sumichrast stood by, laughing most heartily; but his merriment increased on seeing l'Encuerado's gambols, for never before had such wonderful capers been cut. He sang, strummed on his guitar, and danced – often doing all three at the same time. About ten o'clock, Lucien retired to rest. The fatigues of the day, in spite of the noise of the guitar and the songs, soon sent him to sleep.

At a proper hour I desired every one to go home. They kissed my hands, some even embraced me, and obeyed; so silence once more reigned in the little valley. Before my going to sleep, l'Encuerado was already snoring, with his head on Gringalet's back.

CHAPTER XXII

MEXICAN OAK-APPLES. – A STREAM LOST IN AN ABYSS. – THE WILD NASTURTIUM. – SPORTSMEN DECEIVED BY CHILDREN. – THE GRAVE-DIGGING BEETLES. – THE COCHINEAL INSECT. – MEXICAN WINE. – GOOD-BYE TO OUR INDIAN HOSTS

As soon as it was light, I awoke Sumichrast and Lucien. L'Encuerado was sleeping so soundly, after his exploits of the night before, that we hesitated to disturb him. I intended to hunt for insects all day, so as to fill up the vacant spaces in the specimen-boxes that Torribio was to take to Puebla; so we bent our steps towards the bottom of the valley. As the inhabitants were still asleep in their huts, Gringalet passed safely all his sleeping brother-dogs with his tail boldly cocked.

The winding path brought us out into an extensive hollow covered with verdure. In a hundred paces more, we reached some pyramid-shaped rocks, which were bound together by the gigantic roots of a tree with scanty foliage. The water glided noiselessly through the stones, and disappeared under a low arch shaded by gladiolas, covered with blossoms.

Lucien, who was leaning over the opening, wanted to know what became of the water.

"Perhaps it is absorbed by sand underneath; perhaps it will reappear in the valleys, where the surface sinks to its level," I answered.

"Do streams often go under the ground like this?"

"Yes; particularly in Mexico, where these subterranean passages are numerous. Near Chiquihuita, about five leagues from the road which leads to Vera Cruz and Cordova, a large river vanishes into a cave, which is more than three miles in length."

"Oh, how I should like to see such a large grotto!"

"Your wish shall be gratified, provided we do not lose our way in the Terre-Chaude."

Sumichrast had only a few minutes left us, when we heard a report, and he reappeared carrying a magnificent bird, whose red plumage had a purple metallic lustre.

"We have never met with this fine fellow before," said Lucien.

"It is the most brilliant of all the American passerines," I replied – "the Ampelis pompadora; but its splendid attire lasts only for a very short time. In a few days its bright-colored feathers fall off, and are replaced by a sombre, dull-looking coat. This moulting, which is common to many birds, has more than once led ornithologists into error, who have described, as a new species, a bird which a new dress has prevented them from recognizing."

The neighborhood of the sumidero furnished us with a dozen birds of different species; among others, several tanagers peculiar to America, and a pair of pretty light-brown cuckoos, with fan-shaped tails, which are merely birds of passage in this locality.

"When you are speaking of a bird, why do you often say it belongs to Brazil, Guiana, or Peru, when you actually find it in Mexico?" asked Lucien.

"Because, at certain seasons of the year, many kinds of birds migrate," answered my friend; "and they are often found at an immense distance from the country where they breed. This beautiful blackbird, for instance, is never seen in Mexico except in the spring, which has caused it to be called here the primavera."

"Look, papa, at these beautiful yellow flowers; they cover the trunk of this tree so completely that it appears as if they grew on it."

"They are the flowers of the tropœolum, or wild nasturtium. This plant has been cultivated in Europe, where its seed is eaten preserved in vinegar, and its flowers are used to season salads."

"Then the Mexicans do not know its value, for I have never seen it on their tables."

"You are right; but still I should have thought that the piquant taste of the flowers of the tropœolum would have just suited them. Perhaps they find it too insipid after having been accustomed to chewing capsicums."

"You have the seasoning, and I have the salad!" suddenly cried my friend.

And he showed us a handful of an herb called purslane.

This plant, which grows in abundance in damp ground, has red flowers, which close every evening and open again in the morning. I gathered the fleshy leaves, while Sumichrast, who had found a plant covered with seeds, showed Lucien the circular hole on the seed which has given to the plant its family name (Portulacæ).

Some maize-cakes and a salad formed our frugal breakfast, which was discussed on the edge of the stream. Lucien especially seemed to enjoy it, for I was indeed obliged to check him, the appetizing flavor of the salad had so sharpened his appetite.

When we had finished our meal, Sumichrast tried to climb the steep bank; but the ground gave way under his feet, and two or three times he fell. I left Lucien to manage for himself, for his falls were not likely to be dangerous. As he was much less heavy than we were, he succeeded in reaching the level of the plain first, and with very little trouble, when he amused himself by laughing disrespectfully at our efforts.

"You had better take care of your ears," cried my friend, addressing Lucien; "if I could reach you I would use them to hang on by."

In vain we tried to find a more accessible path. At last, getting rid of my gun and game-bag, I accomplished the ascent.

"That's all very well!" exclaimed Sumichrast, fatigued and cramped with his exertions; "but how am I to reach you, now that I have two guns and two bags to carry?"

"Wait a bit!" cried Lucien; and, running down the slope, he soon disappeared.

I heard him cutting at something with his machete; soon after he came up again, carrying a long stem of cane.

"Now we'll try and fish up M. Sumichrast," said he.

Sitting down on the bank, I held out the rod to my companion, who at once seized it, and, thus supported, gradually managed to bring up all our hunting-gear, and ultimately himself, when, instead of pulling "Master Sunbeam's" ears, he gave him a kiss as a reward for his ingenious idea.

About two hundred paces farther on the verdant ravine came to an end, and we were surrounded by cactus-plants. Lucien employed himself hunting lizards, and Gringalet seemed to think he was proving his intelligence by running in front of the boy, so as to frighten away all the game. The young hunter succeeded, however, in catching a green saurian – an anolis– which, being more courageous than lizards generally are, tried to bite the hand that held it prisoner, and angrily puffed up its crest, which is variegated like a butterfly's wing.

Suddenly Gringalet barked uneasily; then we heard a shrill whistle, and immediately afterwards the cry of a cayote. I called in the dog, and, with my finger on the trigger of my gun, cautiously advanced, telling Lucien to keep at my side. We walked so noiselessly that we surprised two or three adders which were coiled up in the sun. The screech of an owl now struck on our ears. I exchanged a look of surprise with my companion; this was neither the time nor place for a bird of this kind. A fresh yelping and barking then resounded; but this time it was so near to us that we halted. Gringalet dashed on before us, and four children appeared, repulsing the dog with cactus-leaves in their hands, which they used as shields.

"Well!" cried Sumichrast, "here we have the cayote, the owl, and the dog, which have so puzzled us."

My companion was not wrong: the young Indians were carrying provisions to their elder brother, who was taking care of a flock of goats. In order to enliven their journey, they amused themselves by imitating the cries of different animals, and they did it with so much accuracy that we had been completely duped.

About three o'clock, my friend, who was anxious to prepare the birds he had shot, left us to return to Coyotepec's dwelling. I continued walking, accompanied by Lucien, but soon stopped to look at the dead body of a mouse which grave-digging beetles were burying.

These insects, five in number, were excavating the ground under the small rodent, in order to bury it. These industrious insects had undertaken a work which would employ them more than twenty-four hours; two of the beetles were lifting up one side of the carcass, while the others scratched away the sand underneath.

"Why are they trying to bury that mouse?" asked Lucien.

"They are providing for their young. They will deposit their eggs beneath the dead animal, and the larvæ, after they are hatched, will feed on it."

I disturbed the active creatures, which, unfortunately for them, belonged to a rare species. Their antennæ, which are club-shaped, terminated abruptly in a kind of button, and their elytra, which are a brilliant black, are crossed by a belt of yellow color. In vain I turned over the ground and the prey, but I could only find four of them.

On a path leading to a glen, we noticed some cicindelas. Lucien began chasing them, but the agility of his enemies soon baffled him.

"How malicious these flies are!" he cried; "I can't succeed in catching one of them."

"They are not flies, but coleoptera, allied to the Carabus family. Give me your net."

Lucien was anxious to obtain one of them, and at length was successful. He was delighted with the beautiful metallic color of their brown elytra, dotted over with yellow spots; but the insect, after having bitten him, escaped.

"What jaws they have!" he said, shaking his fingers; "it's a good thing those creatures are very small. Do cicindelas live in woods?"

"They prefer dry, sandy places, and can run and fly very swiftly. This insect has an uncommonly voracious appetite; look at this one, which has just seized an immense fly, and is trying to tear it in pieces."

The capricious flight of a stag-beetle led us to the edge of the ravine; and, continuing to follow a zigzag path shaded with shrubs, we came out in front of a hut. On the threshold there was a young woman spinning a piece of cotton cloth, whom I recognized as one of the dancers of the night before. The loom which held the weft was fastened at one end to the trunk of a tree, the other being wound round the waist of the weaver. Lucien examined it with great curiosity; and when he saw the weaver change the color of her threads, he understood how the Indian women covered the bottoms of their petticoats with those extraordinary patterns which their fancy produces.

Within a short distance of the hut there were some nopal cactus-plants.

"Look at these plants," said I, addressing Lucien; "the sight of them would probably affect l'Encuerado to tears, for they are principally cultivated in his native land. The numerous brown spots which you can see on their stalks are hemipterous insects, commonly called cochineal. They have no wings, and feed entirely on this cactus, sucking out its sap with their proboscis. The male only is capable of movement; the female is doomed to die where she is born. At a certain time these little insects lay thousands of eggs, and their bodies become covered with a cottony moss, which is intended as a shelter for their young. The cochineal is gathered when, to use the Indian expression, it is ripe, by scraping the plant with a long flexible knife, and all the creatures, still alive, are plunged into boiling water. They are taken out as soon as they are dead, and dried in the sun. Afterwards, packed up in goat-skin bags, they are sent to Europe, where they are used for dyeing and for making the carmine which gives to some kinds of sweetmeats their bright pink color."

A little farther on, I found myself facing a maguey—Agave Mexicana– a sort of aloe, from which pulque is extracted. The maguey only blooms once every twenty-five or thirty years, and the stalk, which is to support the clusters of flowers, grows, in the space of two months, to a height of about sixteen to twenty feet. The stalk bears at its summit no less than four or five thousand blossoms, and the plant expends all its strength in producing them, for it dies soon after.

In the plantations on the plains of Apam, where the maguey is largely cultivated, they prevent its flowering. As soon as the conical bud appears from which the stalk is about to spring, it is cut off, and a cylindrical cavity is hollowed out with a large spoon to the depth of from five to eight inches. The sap collects in this hole, and it is taken out two or three times a day with a long bent gourd, which the Indians use as a siphon. It has been calculated that in twenty-four hours a strong plant should supply about three quarts of a sweet liquor called Agua miel, which is without odor, and has an acidulated sweet taste.

The Agua miel is collected in ox-skins, placed like troughs on four stakes, where the liquor ferments; in about seventy-two hours it is ready for delivery to those that use it, among whom must be placed many Europeans. A maguey plant is serviceable in producing sap for two or three months.

Pulque is an intoxicating beverage, the flavor of which varies according to the degree of fermentation; it might be compared to good cider or perry, and is said to fatten those who habitually drink it.

I reached Coyotepec's dwelling just as the sun had set. Sumichrast was finishing his work, and l'Encuerado, coming from a heap of dry palm-leaves, presented to me a splendid broad-brimmed hat, which he had just made.

The next day and the day after were spent in hunting after specimens, and our boxes were soon filled up and packed. I explained to Torribio, who was to start at day-break, how to handle the cases, and then intrusted to him letters which were to announce our early return. Lucien had written to his dear mother and his sister Hortense, and he had to open his letter at least twenty times to add postscripts, often dictated by l'Encuerado.

In the evening we bade adieu to our kind hosts, for we were to start early. Thanks to them, we had renewed our stock of salt, rice, coffee, sugar, and maize-cake. In default of black pepper, we took with us some red capsicums; but the most precious of our acquisitions was the powder and shot I had received in exchange for the telescope.

On the next morning I learned that Torribio was already on his way towards Puebla. He had started about midnight, so as to avoid crossing the plain during the heat of the day. I now hastened our own departure. We were in possession of good hats, but our garments, which had been mended with some soft leather, gave us the appearance of mendicants; this, however, did not trouble us much. My shoes, and also Sumichrast's, had been strongly, if not elegantly, repaired, and were quite as good as new; Lucien, too, now possessed a pair of spare sandals.

The inhabitants of the little colony ranged along our path, and, overwhelming us with good wishes, bid us another adieu. I pressed all the hands that were held out to me, and then, guided by the band of children, who still surrounded the young traveller, we commenced to ascend the path which had led us down into this hospitable little oasis. When I reached the summit of the hill, I waved my hat as a last salutation to Coyotepec; l'Encuerado fired off his gun as a farewell, and we plunged into the labyrinth of cactuses, taking a straight course towards the east.