"The Terre-Chaude was stretched out at my feet."
CHAPTER XXV.
A GROUND-SQUIRREL.—A MOUSE'S NEST.—HUMMING-BIRDS AND THEIR YOUNG ONES.—THE LOCUST-TREE.—MEXICAN WOLVES AND THEIR RETREAT.
I was suddenly awakened by the report of a gun just as the day was breaking. L'Encuerado showed me an enormous squirrel, with a gray back and white belly—a species which never climbs, and is, for this reason, called by Indians amotli (ground-squirrel). This animal, which lives in a burrow, has all the grace and vivacity of its kind, but it can never be domesticated. It generally goes about in numerous bands, and, when near cultivation, will commit in a single night great destruction; the farmers, consequently, wage against it a war of extermination.
Just as we were setting out, l'Encuerado, whose arm was visibly healing up, again took charge of the basket. I allowed him to carry it, on the condition he should tell me as soon as he felt tired. I went in front, leading Lucien by the hand, and the rocky slope was descended without accident. The oaks were small and scattered, and left us an easy passage over ground covered with dry leaves, which rustled under our feet.
"We might almost fancy we were in Europe," said Sumichrast, suddenly halting.