Just at this moment our attention was attracted by the first ray of the sun, which, piercing through a light cloud, shot across the plain like a bright arrow. The horizon, which had been visible, was now obscured by a mist, which gradually rolled towards us. By degrees, however, it drew off, and the trees a short distance away showed their rounded tops; while wide breaks opened here and there in the semi-transparent veil, and vanished as quickly as they had arisen. The telescope was passed from hand to hand, and each tried to discover if there was a hut where the glimmering fire had been descried the night before. The search was in vain; the reflection of the sun's rays quite dazzled us, and restricted the prospect; but, once in the right course, we might advance without fear of missing our point, and, according to our calculations, we would meet with habitations the next day or the following. Gringalet's tongue hung out of his mouth; he found the journey over the nitrous soil very irksome, and the scanty leaves of the mimosa failed to screen him from the sun. What a contrast it was to the pleasant regions we had hitherto travelled through! "Your country, after all, is not so nice a one as mine," said Lucien, addressing l'Encuerado. "My real native country is much more beautiful than that we are now in, Chanito; in the first place, it has mountains and woods, and there it sometimes rains." "Shall we see any snow fall, now that we are in the _Terre-Froide_?" "No," replied Sumichrast, smiling; "you will not see any snow before next year, when you will be in France. The winters of the Mexican _Terre-Froide_ are like our European springs. It is, however, never warm enough to allow tropical fruit to ripen; but the _Terre-Froide_ only deserves its name when it is compared with the _Terre-Chaude_ and the _Terre-Temperee_." "It seems to me to have been very badly named, for it is as hot now as the day when the south wind blew so strongly. Gringalet looks as if he was of my opinion, for he lolls his tongue out much more than usual." "Upon my word!" cried Sumichrast, "Master Sunbeam's remark shows that he is a first-class observer. You are as right as you can be," continued he, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "In the plains of the _Terre-Froide_ the heat is much more uncomfortable than in the _Terre-Chaude_ itself, where an insensible perspiration always mitigates the oppressive rays of the sun. A few days' walking in this atmosphere will do more in bronzing our skins than all the rest of the journey." My companion suddenly stopped short, and pointed to the horizon with his finger. "That's smoke," cried Lucien. "No, Chanito," replied l'Encuerado, "it is a _tornado_." Seeing a slender column of dust rising up to the clouds, I had, at first sight, formed the same idea as my son. It was, in fact, nothing but a whirlwind of dust, which disappeared soon afterwards.