MEXICAN OAK-APPLES.—A STREAM LOST IN AN ABYSS.—THE WILD NASTURTIUM.—SPORTSMEN DECEIVED BY CHILDREN.—THE GRAVE-DIGGING BEETLES.—THE COCHINEAL INSECT.—MEXICAN WINE.—GOOD-BYE TO OUR INDIAN HOSTS.
As soon as it was light, I awoke Sumichrast and Lucien. L'Encuerado was sleeping so soundly, after his exploits of the night before, that we hesitated to disturb him. I intended to hunt for insects all day, so as to fill up the vacant spaces in the specimen-boxes that Torribio was to take to Puebla; so we bent our steps towards the bottom of the valley. As the inhabitants were still asleep in their huts, Gringalet passed safely all his sleeping brother-dogs with his tail boldly cocked.
The winding path brought us out into an extensive hollow covered with verdure. In a hundred paces more, we reached some pyramid-shaped rocks, which were bound together by the gigantic roots of a tree with scanty foliage. The water glided noiselessly through the stones, and disappeared under a low arch shaded by gladiolas, covered with blossoms.
Lucien, who was leaning over the opening, wanted to know what became of the water.
"Perhaps it is absorbed by sand underneath; perhaps it will reappear in the valleys, where the surface sinks to its level," I answered.
"Do streams often go under the ground like this?"
"Yes; particularly in Mexico, where these subterranean passages are numerous. Near Chiquihuita, about five leagues from the road which leads to Vera Cruz and Cordova, a large river vanishes into a cave, which is more than three miles in length."
"Oh, how I should like to see such a large grotto!"
"Your wish shall be gratified, provided we do not lose our way in the Terre-Chaude."
Sumichrast had only a few minutes left us, when we heard a report, and he reappeared carrying a magnificent bird, whose red plumage had a purple metallic lustre.