A YOUNG NATURALIST. 199 



" Chema ! what is the matter ? " cried Lucien, running up 

 to his friend. 



The Indian raised himself and took- the boy in his arms. 



" Once I had a mother, brothers, and a country," he said, 

 sadly, " and this flower reminds me that all those are now sleejj- 

 ing in the grave." 



" Then you don't love me % " replied Lucien, embracing him. 



The only answer I'Encuerado made was pressing the boy so 

 tightly against his breast as to draw from him a slight cry. 



This scene quite affected us, and I and my friend, side by side, 

 walked back to the hut deeply sunk in thought. 



Hunger soon brought with it more common-placed ideas. The 

 white and juicy flesh of the iguana was quite a feast for us all. 

 Our meal we sat over a longer time than usual ; for in conversa- 

 tion we entered upon the subject of our native countries, and the 

 theme appeared inexhaustible. I reminded my friend that, only 

 a few days before, he had shown as much emotion as the Indian 

 on seeing two butterflies which he fancied belonged to a Swiss 

 species ; and I brought forward these feelings to oppose the inten- 

 tion he so often expressed of taking up his abode in the midst 

 of the wilderness, so as to live and die in solitude. 



On the great plateau the sun shines rather later than in the 

 lower regions. As the luminary approached the earth, the sky 

 was lighted up with a purple colour, and I saw standing out on 

 our left in bold relief the jagged outline of the Cordilleras of 

 I'Encuerado's country. The whitish ground gradually assumed a 

 transparent appearance ; our eyes deceived us to such an extent 

 that we fancied we saw an immense tract of water, above which 

 the trees, appearing as if they were submerged, raised their 

 green heads. 



The moon rose, and, far from destroying the mirage, it 

 rendered the illusion still more striking. I resolved to descend 

 from the hill in order to convince Lucien how much our vision 

 was deceived. 



" There is no mistake about the plain being dry," said he, as 

 we returned to the bivouac, " and yet one might fancy that, as 

 we were mounting the hill, the water was rising behind us." 



