The furious waves continued to bear down with them, without any effort, immense masses of rock; but the body of the water, which did not increase, showed us that it would ebb as rapidly as it had swollen. L'Encuerado was obliged to content himself with some muddy water for making our coffee; but if we had pretended to preserve all the prejudices of civilized life, adieu to all our idea of traversing Mexico. Besides this, we had a fresh disaster to grieve over; the remainder of the raccoon, which we had kept for our breakfast, had been lost in company with our bag of rice. [Illustration: "The rocks came rolling down, dashing together under the force of the liquid avalanche."] We started again, not much enlivened by this series of misfortunes, satisfied with nibbling for breakfast some morsels of _totopo_. All our indisposition had now fortunately vanished, but we could not help feeling some degree of ill-will against both the euphorbias and the torrent. A long march, during which we several times left and rejoined the course of the stream, brought us close to a hill at the foot of which was a vast swamp. I gave the signal for halting. L'Encuerado in our march had gathered some reeds, and set to work to plait us hats. Leaving him with Lucien, Sumichrast and I went off in quest of game. On our return from an unproductive ramble, I saw that my son was already wearing a funnel-shaped head covering. L'Encuerado offered me a similar one, which, as my friend remarked, gave me the look of a Chinese. After having rested a short time, I thought about again looking for game; but the uproar of the torrent seemed to have frightened away all animal life. This second ramble quite exhausted us, without producing any prey but a tanager, far too small to afford food for so many. L'Encuerado and Lucien, both out in the midst of the swamp, perceived us approaching. The young gentleman came running towards us, holding his newly-made hat in his hand; but, in his haste, he forgot that the bed of a marsh is almost always slippery, and he fell flat on his face among some aquatic plants. In one leap the Indian was close to him, and soon picked him up; but, instead of complaining of his fall, Lucien looked up at the Indian with a troubled face. The fact was, his hat held some fish he had caught with his insect-net, and at least a third of them had disappeared from his disaster. "Oh dear! oh dear!" cried Sumichrast, who could not help smiling at the piteous face of the young fisherman; "most decidedly, we are all unfortunate." This joke was taken in a serious light by l'Encuerado, who smote his forehead as if suddenly struck by some idea. "It is the genius of the cave!" he cried. "Ah! the scoundrel, after all he owes me, and the precautions I took!" "What precautions?" asked Lucien, surprised. "I picked up seven white pebbles, and drew out a beautiful cross." "What did the cross matter to him?"