The time when we ought to have settled our bivouac had long passed, yet we were still on the road. The path we were treading was flat and unpromising, and the water from the cave, with which we had filled our gourds, was so unpleasant in taste that we longed to find a spring. Being unable to get a clear view of the horizon, I directed l'Encuerado to climb to the summit of a lofty tree. The Indian ascended to its topmost branch, and, having surveyed the prospect in every direction, came down far from pleased at having failed to discern what he desired. Fatigue, however, now compelled us to halt. Our hut was soon constructed, the fire lighted, and the stew-pot filled with water and rice. Not one of us felt inspired with sufficient courage to induce him to go reconnoitring. An hour after sunset we were all sleeping side by side; l'Encuerado had quite forgotten his earth-nuts, and even dropped off to sleep without having been able to finish the chant which he commenced. I was wakened up by the cries of the tanagers--a beautiful species of bird which lives in flocks. Lucien, like all the rest of us, complained of feeling rather stiff in the joints, resulting, no doubt, from our long journey the day before. On the morrow our little party started with rather a hobbling gait; the presence of the birds seemed to tell us that we were near some stream. Our limbs began gradually to lose their numbness; we were now descending an almost imperceptible slope, and the vegetation assumed a more tropical aspect. As we passed along, I noticed several pepper-plants; and next we came to bushes, round which myriads of _cardinal_ birds were flying. Guided by these beautiful red-plumaged creatures, we suddenly found ourselves on the banks of a stream, running noiselessly over a bed of white sand. With as little delay as possible, a fire gave forth its exhilarating flame. Butterflies, dragon-flies, and birds fluttered round the flowering shrubs. There was a perfect concert of buzzing and twittering, and a gentle breeze agitated the foliage and cooled the air. Nothing seemed wanting for our comfort but game for our dinner. Fortunately, Providence rarely does things by halves. We had scarcely sat down to take breath, when a flock of wild-ducks settled near us. They were at once saluted by a platoon fire, and four victims strewed the ground and water with their white, brown, and blue feathers. "These are the first aquatic birds we have met with," said Sumichrast; "it will not be long now before we are among the marshes." "What birds are wild-ducks related to?" asked Lucien. "To swans and geese, Master Sunbeam," replied my friend. "All the individuals of this order, as their name--_palmipedes_, or web-footed birds--indicates, have their toes united by a wide membrane. Ducks, many species of which are found in Mexico, have a flat bill; and their short legs, placed so far behind, compel them to waddle in walking, although they can swim with great facility."