ch better for him to get accustomed to them now. Give him
back his baggage, it is not too heavy for him; if you don't, you will be
the one to be scolded."

The Indian grumbled before he obeyed; then, taking the boy by the hand,
dropped behind, muttering to him:

"When you don't want to walk any more, Chanito, you must tell me, and
you shall ride on the top of my pack."

"No," said I, turning round; "if you do any thing of the kind, I will
send both of you home."

"My shoulders are my own," replied the Indian, earnestly; "surely I have
a right to employ them as I choose."

Sumichrast burst out laughing at this logic, and I was obliged to go on
in front, or I should have done the same. Nevertheless, I feared lest
Lucien should learn, on the very first day of his journey, to depend too
much on l'Encuerado's kindness. I was, therefore, pleased to hear him
refuse several times the Indian's offer of putting him up on his pack,
an idea which the faithful fellow persisted in with an obstinacy which I
had long known him to possess. A little time after--thinking, doubtless,
that his dignity compelled him to prove that he was easily able to
increase the weight of his load--he seized Gringalet, who was walking
close behind lolling out his tongue, and throwing the dog up on his
back, and commencing an Indian trot, ran by us with a triumphant look.
Gringalet was at first taken by surprise, and, raising a cry of
distress, wanted to jump down; but he soon sat quiet enough, without
displaying any uneasiness, to the great joy of my son, who was much
amused at the incident.

The plain which we were crossing seemed absolutely interminable.

"It's no use our walking," said Lucien; "we don't appear to make any
advance."

"Fortunately, you are mistaken," replied Sumichrast. "Look in front of
you, and you will see that the trees on ahead, which a short time ago
looked like one uninterrupted mass of foliage, can now be discerned
separately."

"You mean the forest which we can see from here?"

"What you take for a forest is nothing but a few trees scattered about
the plain."

"Isn't M. Sumichrast wrong in that, father?"

"No, my boy; but those who have more experience than you might well be
mistaken, for when objects are seen at a distance they always seem to
blend together in a group. This morning, for instance, when we were
walking along the main road, you were always exclaiming that it ended in
a point; but you were convinced