instay of our dinner."

"I never thought of all that," said Lucien, shaking his head, and
looking convinced; "but what shall we have to eat this evening?"

"At present, I haven't the least idea; perhaps a hare or a bird, or even
a rat."

"A rat! I certainly will never touch one."

"Ah! my boy, wait till you are really hungry--you don't know as yet what
it is to be so--and then you'll see how greedily you will make a dinner
off whatever Providence provides."

"Do you think we shall often have to go a whole day without eating?"

"I hope not," I answered, smiling at Lucien's anxious and somewhat
pensive tone.

During this conversation, l'Encuerado, as active as a monkey, had
clambered up a pine, and his _machete_ was strewing the ground with
slender boughs. We also set to work at shaping the stakes, which I drove
into the ground by means of a stone, which served as a hammer. Some
branches, interwoven and tied together by creepers, formed a kind of
hurdle, which, fixed on the top of the posts, did for a roof. The
Indian, assisted by his little companion, who was much interested in all
the preparations, filled the hut with leaves, and covered the branches
with a layer of dry grass. Under this shelter, we could set the rain at
defiance, if not the cold.

It is impossible to describe Lucien's enchantment. This _house_ (for
this was the name he chose to give to the shapeless hut, in which our
party could scarcely stand upright) appeared to him a perfect
masterpiece of architecture, and he was astonished at the rapidity with
which it had been built. He helped l'Encuerado to make up the fire, so
that all that was requisite on our return was to set a light to it.
Then, armed with our guns, we set off to seek for our dinners.

Seeing that we left behind us all our baggage, Lucien exclaimed,

"Suppose any one came and stole our provisions?"

"Upon my word," cried Sumichrast, "you're the boy to think of every
thing. But there's no need to fear this misfortune; most likely, we are
the only persons in the forest; or if any one else should be here, it
would be an almost miraculous chance if they discovered our bivouac."

"Then we are not on any road?"

"You may call it a road if you like, but we are the only people who have
trod it; no one could discover our encampment unless they had followed
us step by step."

The child shook his head with a rather doubtful air; the idea of the
desert is not readily nor suddenly compr