A YOUNG NATURALIST. 



389 



boughs are so high that we might fancy we were in a 

 church." 



The boy's remark was far from incorrect. The dark 

 arches of the intersecting branches, the black soil formed 

 by the accumulated vegetable debris of perhaps five or six 

 thousand years, the dim obscurity scarcely penetrated by 

 the sunlight making its way through the dark foliage — all 

 combined to imbue the mind with a kind of vague melan- 

 choly. The limited prospect and the profound silence (for 

 birds rarely venture into this forest-ocean) also tend to fill 

 the soul with gloomy thoughts, and prove that health of 

 mind as well as of body depends upon light. 



A furnace-like heat compelled us to keep silence, and tree 

 succeeded tree with sad monotony. The moist soil gave 

 way under our feet, and retained the traces of our footsteps. 

 At a giddy height above our heads the dark foliage of the 

 spreading branches entirely obscured the sky. Every now 

 and then I gave a few words of encouragement to Lucien, 

 who was walking behind me quite overcome with the heat ; 

 especially, I recommended him not to drink, in the first 

 place, because the water must be economized, and next be- 

 cause it would only stimulate his thirst 



" Then we shall never drink any more," said the boy. 



" Oh yes ! Chanito," rejoined the Indian, " when we form 

 our bivouac, I shall make plenty of coffee, and if you sip it, 

 in a quarter of an hour your thirst will be quenched." 



" Then I hope we shall soon reach our bivouac," said Lu- 

 cien, mournfully. 



If I had consulted my own feelings, I should now have 

 given the word to halt ; but reason and experience enabled 

 me to resist the desire. It would really be better for Lu- 

 cien to suffer for a short time than for us to lose several 

 hours, especially if we failed to find the stream we were 

 seeking. It was necessary to cross without delay the in- 



