A YOUNG NA TURALIST. 1 1 3 



face contracted with pain, raised towards me his right hand, 

 which was akeady red, swollen, and covered with bUsters. The 

 branch he had caught hold of in his fall belonged to a gigantic 

 nettle, called by the Indians mala-mujer, or "bad woman." This 

 plant only grows on damp banks, — "a piece of malice," said I'En- 

 cuerado, " adopted in order to play shameful tricks on unsuspect- 

 ing travellers ; towards whom it treacherously stretches out its 

 green stalks and velvety leaves as if offering them assistance." 



We felt quite grieved at Sumichrast's sufferings; forwe well knew 

 by experience the intolerable pain which is produced by the sting 

 of this herb. L'Encuerado took Lucien in charge, whilst I gave my 

 assistance to the injured man. For some distance we moved along 

 without much difficulty, but very soon a whole forest of nettles 

 stood up in front of us. Lucien and Sumichrast sat down, whilst 

 the Indian and I, by means of our machetes, opened out a narrow 

 path ; at last we reached again the timber land, so we had now 

 almost got out of our difficulties. 



The stalks of the nettles, cut off a few inches above the ground, 

 served to give firmness to our footing. But I'Encuerado, always 

 too confident, tripped up, and his right cheek was brushed by some 

 of their leaves ; it only needed this to render him perfectly unre- 

 cognisable. Although I pitied him, I could not help smiling at 

 the grimaces produced on his sun-burnt visage by the painful 

 stings. Even Sumichrast, when looking at him, forgot his own 

 sufierings. 



Under a cypress, we observed five or six snakes, each about a 

 yard and a half long. One, more courageous than the others, 

 remained under the trees and steadily surveyed our party. Grin- 

 galet, furious in the extreme, barked and jumped all round the 

 reptile, which, raising its head from the centre of the coil formed 

 by its body, shot out its tongue. Its skin was of a golden 

 yellow, dotted with green spots, and streaked by two almost im- 

 perceptible black lines. L'Encuerado called in the dog; the 

 snake then coiled itself up, slowly turning its head in every 

 direction, as if to select the best direction for retreat. Suddenly 

 it unrolled its whole length, exposing to our view an unfortunate 

 sparrow, which was still breathing. Leaving it unmolested, 



