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Give him back his baggage, it is not too heavy for him; if you don't, you will be the one to be scolded." The Indian grumbled before he obeyed; then, taking the boy by the hand, dropped behind, muttering to him: "When you don't want to walk any more, Chanito, you must tell me, and you shall ride on the top of my pack."
"Don't you find that the mosquitoes in the Terre-Chaude bite much sharper than those in the Terre-Tempérée?" asked the boy, addressing l'Encuerado. "No, Chanito; they are all alike, for they belong to the same family, as your papa says." "Then they must be more numerous here, for every instant one receives a fresh pinch."
"Yes, Chanito; but they do not go into the water till they are old enough to defend themselves against the big males, which would devour them." The sun had scarcely risen, when I saw on the shore, at about ten paces from us, three monsters luxuriously stretched out.
The gun went off, and the tapirs decamped; but one of them fell on the ground before it could enter the water; it was dead ere we reached it. "You have killed the object of your dread," said Lucien, who ran up to examine the curious animal. "Yes, Chanito, thanks to the enchanted bullets."
"What a comical-looking bird!" said Lucien; "and yet I'm half afraid of its brilliant eyes and hooked nose." "Every one is frightened at him, Chanito," replied l'Encuerado; "and when he settles near a hut at night, and raises his dismal cry, he predicts the early death of some one of those who hear him."
I had often thought of giving Lucien a gun; but I was so afraid of an accident that I had decided not to do so. "Oh, Chanito! I pity the poor tigers; what a number of them you will kill!" exclaimed the old hunter. "What beautiful skins you will be able to take home to mamma! Come, let me handle your gun; it looks as if it was made on purpose for you. Oh! how I pity the poor tigers!"
Here I feel myself almost as learned as you, and I could tell you all the names of those flowers which turn their bright faces towards me as if they knew me! It seems as if I had often walked on that plain, and as if I had often seen these trees, bushes, and plants You are laughing at me, Chanito; it's all very well, but you'll see!
"They are funny birds, those," said l'Encuerado to Lucien. "In three months that is, in October they will go to sleep, and will not wake up till April." "Is that true, father?" "I rather fancy that they migrate." "Now don't teach Chanito wrongly," said l'Encuerado, repeating a common phrase of mine; "the huitzitzilins do not migrate; they go to sleep."
I would sooner be hurt myself than cause you the least harm. There, now you are all firmly fixed again, and you may live in peace. Your little ones can tell you that I have not teased them; I only wanted to show them to Chanito. Good-bye, Señor Huitzitzilin! you are a brave bird, and it's I, l'Encuerado, who tells you so!"
"There is every cause for wonder," I replied, "for no savant has yet explained the real cause of this phenomenon." "If we happened to be caught in one of these whirlwinds would it carry us away?" "No, Chanito," replied the Indian, "it would be content with throwing us down." "Then you've had some experience of them?"
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