AGAIN ON THE ROAD.—THE BIRD-CATCHING SPIDER.—THE MARTEN AND THE SKUNK.—THE FLYING SQUIRREL.—THE OTTER-HUNT.—L'ENCUERADO WOUNDED.
Three days of difficult travelling brought us into the midst of the Terre-Tempérée. Thus we had traversed the whole breadth of the Cordillera, at one time shivering on their summits, at another perspiring, as we penetrated narrow and deep-sunk valleys, just as the chances of our journey led us. Every now and then we caught a sight of the pointed cone of the volcano of Orizava, which assisted us in taking our bearings. At last, four days after taking leave of Coyotepec, we established our bivouac at the foot of a mountain, close to a clear and icy stream.
While l'Encuerado was making the fire, Lucien discovered under a stone an enormous black and hairy spider, with feet armed with double-hooked claws.
"Isn't this a tarantula, M. Sumichrast?"
"No, my boy, it is a bird-catching spider—so called because it is said to attack the humming-birds' nests and destroy the young ones."
"May I catch it?"
"Not with your fingers; its bite is dangerous."
"One might easily fancy it was watching us, from the expression of those two big eyes near its mouth."
"There is no doubt that it is looking at us; just menace it with this little stick, and you'll soon see it assume the defensive."
The enormous spider raised its front feet, and two black and polished horns issued from its mouth. After a moment's hesitation, it suddenly darted at the end of the stick, which Lucien let go in fright.