We couldn't help feeling uneasy about Gringalet: we had given him about half a squirrel, but instead of eating it, he thought fit to roll himself upon it frantically. The poor beast had consequently only some scraps of totopo. It was, however, highly necessary to accustom him to feed on game, as our maize-cakes were far too valuable to be doled out thus. Each of us poured a little water from his gourd into a calabash, which served for a drinking-vessel. The poor dog, thus allowanced, must have been sorry that he ever joined us.
The sun was perceptibly sinking.
"Well, Lucien," asked Sumichrast, "what do you think now of rat's flesh?"
"I'll tell you when I have eaten some of it."
"What! don't you know that the squirrel and the rat are very near relations, and that they both belong to the Rodent family?"
"They certainly are a little alike," said the child, making a comical face.
"Especially the species which we had for our dinner; which, by-the-by, is not yet classed by naturalists. Look! its coat is black on the back, gray on the flanks, and white under the belly. The ears, too, are bare, instead of having those long points of hair which give such a knowing look to the European squirrels."
"Do squirrels feed on flesh?"
"No; acorns, buds, nuts, grain, and sometimes grasses, constitute their principal food."
"Then," replied Lucien, triumphantly, "the flesh of the squirrel can not resemble that of the rat, for I know that the rat will eat flesh."
The assured and self-satisfied tone of the little savant made us smile; but I almost immediately desired him to be silent, for a noise of branches rustling, which had excited our attention, became every moment more distinct. Gringalet was about to bark, but l'Encuerado caught him by the muzzle, and covered him with his sarapé. A whole troop of squirrels, no doubt those we had hunted two hours before, made their appearance, uttering sharp cries. They sprang from branch to branch with the most extraordinary disregard to distance. We noticed them running after one another, sometimes along the top, and sometimes along the bottom of the most flexible boughs. They moved forward as if in jerks, sometimes stopping suddenly and climbing a tree, only to descend it again. When on the ground, they sat up on their hind legs, using their front paws like hands, and rubbed their noses with such a comical air that Lucien could not help speaking loud to express his admiration of them.
Hearing so strange a sound as the human voice, the graceful animals took flight, but not quick enough to prevent Sumichrast's gun from wounding one of them. The squirrel remained at first clinging to the tree on which it was when the shot struck it; but, after a pause, it relaxed its hold and rolled over and fell to the ground. Nevertheless, it had strength enough left to turn round and bite the sportsman, who carelessly laid hold of him. L'Encuerado skinned it immediately, keeping the meat for our breakfast next morning.
The sun went down; the cries of the birds resounded, and night at last shut us in, bringing with it the solemn silence of the wilderness. L'Encuerado struck up a prolonged chant, and Lucien's fresh young voice blended with that of the hunter. The tune was simple and monotonous in its character; but there was something touching in hearing the Indian and the child, both equally artless in mind, uniting together to sing the praises of God. The chant was ended by a prayer, which Sumichrast and I listened to, standing up, with our heads bared; and it was with earnestness that my friend repeated l'Encuerado's solemn "Amen," expressed in the words, "God is great."
Having fed the fire with sufficient wood to keep it up all night, we lay down, side by side, under the hut. The wind moaned softly through the foliage, and, under the influence of the gentle breeze, the pine-trees produced that melancholy sound which so exactly calls to mind the noise of the surf breaking on the shore. By means of thinking of it, I felt it even in my sleep, for I dreamt that I was at sea, and that the vessel that bore me was sailing over silvery waters.
CHAPTER VI
The first thing I saw on opening my eyes was l'Encuerado, who was getting ready our coffee, and Lucien crouching close to the fire, piling up a quantity of dry branches round the kettle, at some risk, however, of upsetting it.
"Why, Lucien," I cried, "it is not light yet, and you are up already! Didn't you sleep well?"
"Oh yes, papa," he answered, kissing me; "but l'Encuerado disturbed Gringalet, so he thought proper to come and lie down on me, and that woke me, for Gringalet is very heavy. So, as I couldn't go to sleep again, I got up to look after the fire."
"And you are doing your work capitally. The kettle is singing loudly, and l'Encuerado will find it difficult to take it off without burning his fingers."
But the Indian had provided himself with two green branches, which he used to lift off the make-shift coffee-pot, into which he emptied both the sugar and the coffee.
"Where is the filter?" asked Lucien.
"Do you think you are still in the town?" I replied. "Why don't you ask for a cup and saucer as well?"
"But we can never drink this black muddy stuff!" cried Lucien.
"Never mind, Chanito," said the Indian; "I'll soon make it all right."
Then, taking his gourd, he poured from it some cold water into the mixture, and it immediately became cleared.
I told Lucien to go and wake up Sumichrast.
The child approached our companion, who was scarcely visible under the leaves, which served him both for coverlet and pillow.
"Hallo! hallo! M. Sumichrast; the soup is on the table."
"Soup!" repeated Sumichrast, rubbing his eyes. "Ah! you little monkey, you have disturbed me in such a pleasant dream. I fancied that I was no older than you, and that I was once more wandering over the mountains of my native land."
It is considered wholesome to take a cup of Mocha after a hearty meal; but, with all due deference to Grimod de la Reynière and Brillat Savarin, coffee seems still sweeter to the taste when taken at five o'clock in the morning, after passing the night in the open air.
The day broke; it was a magnificent sight to see the forest gradually lighted up, and the trunks of the trees gilded by slanting sunbeams. Before starting again, one of our party carefully examined the ground on which we had camped, so as not to forget any of our effects, which, if lost, would have been irreparable. I also noticed that l'Encuerado's basket was decked with the three squirrels' skins, which would thus gradually dry.
We had walked on for nearly an hour, the only incident being our meeting with various kinds of birds, when the melancholy cry of the couroucou struck on our ears. The call of this bird is very much like that uttered by the Mexican ox-drivers when they herd together the animals under their care; hence its Spanish name of vaquero. We gave chase to them, and in less than half an hour we had obtained a male and female. Lucien was never tired of admiring these beautiful creatures, with their yellow beaks, hooked like those of birds of prey. The male bird, in particular, was magnificent; the feathers on the head and back seemed to be "shot" with a golden green, while the edges of the wings and the belly were tinted with the purest crimson, shaded off into two black lines, which extended as far as the tail.
"Shall we find many of these birds in the forest, M. Sumichrast?" asked Lucien.
"No, Master 'Sunbeam;' they are rather rare; so we must take great care of the skins of these we have shot."
"Is their flesh good to eat?" he asked.
"Excellent; and many a gourmand would be glad to make a meal of it. However, at dinner-time, you shall try for yourself; and you will meet with very few people who, like you, have partaken of the trogon massena."
"At all events, it isn't another relation of the rat – is it?" asked the boy,