Adventures of a Young Naturalist. Lucien Biart

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      Thanks to the abundance of materials, our hut was quickly constructed. While l'Encuerado was getting dinner ready, I went to examine the half-rotten trunk of a tree which was lying on the ground. A multitude of insects, of an elegant shape and of a metallic-blue color, fled at my approach; they belonged to the numerous Carabus family, the flesh-eating Coleopteræ, which are found both in Europe and in America.

      "Why don't they fly away, instead of running or tumbling over on the ground?" asked Lucien.

      "Because they are but little used to flying, and are very quick at walking," I answered.

      "Oh papa! the one I have caught has wetted my fingers, and it feels as if it had burned me."

      "You are right; but you needn't be afraid; it will not hurt you. Many of the Carabus family, when they are caught, try to defend themselves by throwing out a corrosive liquid; others make a report, accompanied by smoke, which has given them their name of bombardier."

      "What do they find to eat under the bark, in which they must lead a very gloomy life?"

      "Larvæ and caterpillars; they are, therefore, more useful than injurious."

      "To what order of insects do they belong?"

      "To the Coleoptera order, because they have four wings, the largest of which, called elytra, are more or less hard, and justify their name9 by encasing the two other wings, which are membranous and folded crosswise. The cock-chafer, you know, is one of this order."

      A fresh piece of bark revealed to us two scorpions with enormous bellies, and heads so small as to be almost imperceptible; all they did was to stiffen out their tails, which are composed of six divisions, the last terminating in an extremely slender barb.

      "Oh, what horrid creatures!" cried Lucien, starting back; "if it wasn't for their light color, you might take them for prawns with their heads cut off."

      "Yes, if you didn't examine them too closely. I suppose you will be very surprised when I tell you that they are allied to the spider tribe."

      "I should never have suspected it. Are they dead, then, for they do not move?"

      "Insects belonging to this order are very slow and lazy in their movements. They are found under most kinds of bark; therefore I advise you to take care when searching through it."

      "Should I die if I were stung?"

      "No; but it would cause a very painful swelling, which it would be best to avoid."

      "I shall be afraid to meddle with the bark of trees, now."

      "Then good-bye to your making a collection of insects. Prudence is a very good quality, but you must not make it an excuse for cowardice."

      Upon examining the insects more closely, I saw that one of the scorpions, a female, was carrying three or four young ones on her back. This sight much amused Lucien, especially when he saw the animal begin to move slowly off with them.

      "Do you know, Chanito," said l'Encuerado, who had now joined us, which showed that the cooking did not require his undivided attention, "that when the mother of the young scorpions does not supply them with food, they set to and devour her."

      "Is that true?" asked Lucien, with surprise.

      "If the little ones do not actually kill their mother, at all events they feed on her dead body," I answered. "You will have plenty of opportunities to verify this fact, for these insects are very plentiful in the Terre-Tempérée."

      "Ah!" cried Lucien, "I was quite right, then, when I called them horrid creatures."

      L'Encuerado, stripping off another piece of bark, exposed to view a salamander, which awkwardly tried to hide itself.

      "You may catch it if you like; there is nothing to be afraid of," said I to Lucien, who had drawn back in fright.

      "But it is a scorpion!" he exclaimed.

      "You are too frightened to see clearly; it is a salamander, an amphibious reptile of the frog family. The scorpion has eight feet, while the salamander, which is much more like a lizard, has only four."

      "Are they venomous?" asked Lucien of the Indian.

      "No, Chanito; Indians" (it was well worth while hearing the contempt with which l'Encuerado pronounced this name) "are afraid of it; once I was afraid of it myself, but your papa has taught me to handle it without the least fear."

      And the hunter placed the salamander in the boy's hand, who cried out —

      "It is as cold as ice, and all sticky."

      "It must be so, as a matter of course; the salamander, like a fish, is a cold-blooded animal. The viscous humor which is secreted by the skin of the salamander is able to protect them for a short time from injury by fire, by means of the same phenomenon by which a hand, previously wetted, can be plunged into melting iron without burning it.10 Thus an idea has arisen that these batrachians can exist in the midst of flames. Although these poor animals are deaf, nearly blind, and remarkable for their timidity, poets, much to the amusement of naturalists, have chosen the salamander as an emblem of valor."

      Assisted by Sumichrast, I continued the examination of the immense tree, which, being half rotted by the dampness of the soil, supplied us with some very beautiful specimens of various insects.

      Suddenly we heard Lucien speaking in supplicating tones; I ran towards him, and found him trying to prevent l'Encuerado, who had got possession of the salamander, from making a trial of its powers of resisting fire.

      "All right, Chanito; I will not leave it long on the coals; your papa said that these animals do not mind it a bit."

      Lucien would not consent to this cruel experiment, but carried the animal back to the tree on which we had found it.

      The day was drawing to a close when we returned to the fire; from the stew-pan an appetizing odor was escaping, in which one of the couroucous, with a handful of rice, was boiling, while the other bird was roasting in front. It was really a capital dinner; first we had some excellent soup, of which Lucien had two platefuls; then came what was left of our squirrel, and last of all the roasted couroucou, which l'Encuerado served up on a bed of water-cresses. We had an unlimited supply of water; and, although my readers may smile at what I say, I really believe we drank too much. A cup of coffee crowned our feast, and then the remains were left to Gringalet, who licked every thing clean, even to the very saucepan. Lucien, having finished his meal, lay down by my side, and was not long before he was fast asleep.

      A dismal howling from our four-footed companion woke us up with a start. We seized our arms. The dog, with his ears laid back, his tail between his legs, turned his nose to the wind with an anxious glance, and set up a fresh howl, which was answered by the shrill prolonged cries of the coyotas, or jackal of Mexico.

      "So these miserable brutes think they are going to frighten us?" cried l'Encuerado.

      And while we were making up the fire, the СКАЧАТЬ