"And so you risk his breaking his bones?"
"I'm not a child," replied the Indian, proudly, standing upright on a branch.
"Enough of these gymnastics! Come down at once; although God knows how you are going to manage it."
The words were hardly out of my mouth when Lucien reached the ground, suspended by a lasso which l'Encuerado had tied under his arms. The Indian had pulled him up to the lowest branches in the same way.
"You have not acted sensibly," said I to the Indian; "we do not begin to learn to ride by mounting a wild horse. Lucien doesn't know yet how to climb high trees."
"Lucien can climb as well as I can," retorted the culprit; "he has never eaten an orange out of your garden without clambering up to gather it himself."
"That's something new to me," said I, looking hard at my son, who blushed. "At any rate, orange-trees are very different in size from cotton-woods, so you risked killing him."
"No; I kept tight hold of him. You very well know that if Chanito were likely to come to his death by my fault, I should die first."
"That wouldn't bring the boy to life again. There will be plenty of dangers in our excursion without seeking them out for mere pleasure. I want to bring you all back safe and sound to Orizava; therefore, don't let us have any more of these ascents."
Having uttered this remonstrance, I turned on my heel, for it was no use trying to have the last word with l'Encuerado. I was, however, quite sure that he would not renew the exploit which had displeased me, and that was all I wished.