A YOUNG NATURALIST. 



381 



repeating a common phrase of mine ; " the huitzitzilins do 

 not migrate ; they go to sleep." 



" This fact has been so often related to me by Indians 

 living in the woods," said my friend, " that I feel almost 

 disposed to believe it." 



" Don't they say the same of the bats and swallows ? and 

 yet we know they change their habitat." 



"Yes; but with regard to humming-birds, they assert 

 that they have seen them asleep. At all events, it is cer- 

 tain that they disappear in the winter." 



The clucking of a bird of the gallinaceous order, called 

 the hocco — Crax alector — interrupted our discussion, and 

 my two companions carefully proceeded towards a dark- 

 foliaged tree, a little outside the edge of the forest. The 

 clucking suddenly ceased ; we heard the report of a gun, 

 and I saw three of them fly away into the forest. L'En- 

 cuerado was climbing a tree when I came up, for the bird 

 he had shot had lodged among the branches. 



u Do you see the long pods which hang on that tree ?" 

 cried Lucien. 



" It is a locust-tree covered with fruit," said my friend ; 

 " it is a relation of the bean and the pea." 



" Are the pods eatable ?" asked the child, as one fell at 

 his feet. 



"You may taste the dark pulp which surrounds the 

 seeds — it is slightly sweet ; but don't eat too much, for it 

 is used in Europe as a medicine." 



L'Encuerado dropped at our feet the great bird which 

 Sumichrast had killed. It was larger in size than a fowl, 

 with a crest upon its head. Its cry — a sort of clucking of 

 which its Spanish name gives an idea — tells the traveller 

 its whereabout, although it is ready enough in making its 

 escape. 



L'Encuerado returned to the bivouac, and Sumichrast 



