A YOUNG NATUJi A LIST. 191 



all our idea of traversing Mexico. Besides this, we had a fresh 

 disaster to grieve over ; the remainder of the racoon 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 misfor- 

 tunes, 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 unproduc- 

 tive 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 look- 

 ing 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 I'Encuerado, who 

 smote his forehead as if suddenly struck by some idea. 



