"Because a dragon guards the entrance to these countries where nature lavishes its choicest gifts."
"A dragon?"
"Yes; the yellow fever. A terrible malady which corrupts the blood, and selects the most robust frames for its victims. The negro only can labor under this burning sun; where even an Indian is overcome by the marsh fever."
"Are we liable to catch these fevers?"
"We should be in danger if we staid here till the rainy season."
"How that tree is loaded with fruit!" said Lucien, interrupting me.
"They are the Mexican medlars. To-morrow we will come and gather some of them. Five or six different species of their genus grow in these virgin forests. These beautiful trees produce various fruit, which is more or less in request. That which has attracted your attention—the Sapota achras—is especially well known. It is considered the most wholesome of all the tropical fruits; and from the trunk of the tree oozes out the white gum called chicle, which the inhabitants of the Terre-Chaude and the Terre-Tempérée are so fond of chewing."
The night overtook us just as we were discussing a haunch of venison roasted by l'Encuerado. A distant roaring told us that we were surrounded by wild beasts; but we had every confidence in our two fires and the screen which l'Encuerado had constructed; so we went quietly to sleep, although we were awakened several times by a renewal of their frightful uproar.
