Lucien, thanks to
Don Antonio's horse, had not walked quite so far.

The aborigines set before us rice and beans. After this frugal repast,
washed down with cold water, I wanted Lucien to lie down on a large mat;
but the restless little being took advantage of his elders being
comfortably stretched out to sleep, and ran off to see our hostess's
fowls roosting for the night on a dead tree, and then to prowl up and
down in company with l'Encuerado. The latter had ferreted out a
three-corded guitar which was in the hut, and strummed away at the same
tune for hours together--no doubt to the great pleasure of the boy,
although to us it was quite the reverse.

At last our bedding was unrolled, and I enjoined repose on all.
Gringalet couched down in the hut, at the feet of his young master.
L'Encuerado, however, preferred sleeping in the open air, only too
happy, as he said, to see the sky above, and to feel the wind blow
straight into his face without having to be filtered through walls and
windows.

FOOTNOTES:

[C] Two grotesque little phenomena were once shown in London and Paris
as specimens of the Aztec race. When I speak of Aztecs, my young readers
may perhaps think I allude to these dwarfs. I will therefore state, once
for all, that this name is intended to apply only to the Indians, the
descendants of the fine race over whom Montezuma was emperor when Cortez
conquered them. By Mexicans, or Creoles, we mean the descendants of the
Spanish race.

[D] About threepence.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER III.

WAKING UP IN THE MORNING.--THE PIGMY WORLD OF LILLIPUT.--L'ENCUERADO AND
THE BOTTLES.--MASSACRE OF THISTLES.--THE CHARCOAL-BURNING INDIANS.

I rose long before day and woke my companion. Lucien rubbed his eyes two
or three times, trying in vain to make out where he was. After some
moments, drawing the coverlet over him, he turned round to go to sleep
again.

"Now, then, young Lazybones!" I cried, "don't you hear the cock crowing,
telling us we ought to be on our road? Jump up and look round, and you
will see the birds and the insects are already busy."

The child got up, appearing half stupefied, and stretched himself with a
long yawn.

"Oh, papa!" he said, "I ache all over; I'm sure I shall never be able to
walk."

"You are quite mistaken," I replied, half supporting him. "You only feel
a little tired and stiff; your limbs will very soon work as freely as
ever. Go and warm yourself by the fire, whe