the mainland. The sea had at one time occupied the site
where the morass now stood. These cliffs formed a range extending from
north to south. Their precipitous sides, clothed here and there with
trees, marked where the descent was broken by platforms. Between him and
this range the morass extended. Hazel took note of three places where the
descent from these hills into the marsh could, he believed, most readily
be made.

On the eastern side and close above him arose the peculiar mountain. Its
form was that of a truncated cone, and its sides densely covered with
trees of some size.

The voice of Helen called him from his perch, and he descended quickly,
leaping into a mass of brushwood growing at the foot of his tree. Helen
stood a few yards from him, in admiration, before a large shrub.

"Look, Mr. Hazel, what a singular production," said the girl, as she
stooped to examine the plant. It bore a number of red flowers, each
growing out of a fruit like a prickly pear. These flowers were in various
stages; some were just opening like tulips, others, more advanced, had
expanded like umbrellas, and quite overlapped the fruit, keeping it from
sun and dew; others had served their turn in that way, and been withered
by the sun's rays. But, wherever this was the case, the fruit had also
burst open and displayed or discharged its contents, and those contents
looked like seeds; but on narrower inspection proved to be little insects
with pink transparent wings, and bodies of incredibly vivid crimson.

Hazel examined the fruit and flowers very carefully, and stood rapt,
transfixed.

"It must be!--and it is!" said he, at last. "Well, I'm glad I've not died
without seeing it."

"What is it?" said she.

"One of the most valuable productions of the earth. It is cochineal. This
is the Tunal tree."

"Oh, indeed," said Helen, indifferently. "Cochineal is used for a dye;
but as it is not probable we shall require to dye anything, the discovery
seems to me more curious than useful."

"You wanted some ink. This pigment, mixed with lime-juice, will form a
beautiful red ink. Will you lend me your handkerchief and permit me to
try if I have forgotten the method by which these little insects are
obtained?" He asked her to hold her handkerchief under a bough of the
Tunal tree, where the fruit was ripe. He then shook the bough. Some
insects fell at once into the cloth. A great number rose and buzzed a
little in the sun not a yard from w