"Because, at certain seasons of the year, many kinds of birds migrate," answered my friend; "and they are often found at an immense distance from the country where they breed. This beautiful blackbird, for instance, is never seen in Mexico except in the spring, which has caused it to be called here the _primavera_." "Look, papa, at these beautiful yellow flowers; they cover the trunk of this tree so completely that it appears as if they grew on it." "They are the flowers of the _trop[oe]olum_, or wild nasturtium. This plant has been cultivated in Europe, where its seed is eaten preserved in vinegar, and its flowers are used to season salads." "Then the Mexicans do not know its value, for I have never seen it on their tables." "You are right; but still I should have thought that the piquant taste of the flowers of the _trop[oe]olum_ would have just suited them. Perhaps they find it too insipid after having been accustomed to chewing capsicums." "You have the seasoning, and I have the salad!" suddenly cried my friend. And he showed us a handful of an herb called purslane. This plant, which grows in abundance in damp ground, has red flowers, which close every evening and open again in the morning. I gathered the fleshy leaves, while Sumichrast, who had found a plant covered with seeds, showed Lucien the circular hole on the seed which has given to the plant its family name (_Portulacae_). Some maize-cakes and a salad formed our frugal breakfast, which was discussed on the edge of the stream. Lucien especially seemed to enjoy it, for I was indeed obliged to check him, the appetizing flavor of the salad had so sharpened his appetite. When we had finished our meal, Sumichrast tried to climb the steep bank; but the ground gave way under his feet, and two or three times he fell. I left Lucien to manage for himself, for his falls were not likely to be dangerous. As he was much less heavy than we were, he succeeded in reaching the level of the plain first, and with very little trouble, when he amused himself by laughing disrespectfully at our efforts. "You had better take care of your ears," cried my friend, addressing Lucien; "if I could reach you I would use them to hang on by." In vain we tried to find a more accessible path. At last, getting rid of my gun and game-bag, I accomplished the ascent. "That's all very well!" exclaimed Sumichrast, fatigued and cramped with his exertions; "but how am I to reach you, now that I have two guns and two bags to carry?" "Wait a bit!" cried Lucien; and, running down the slope, he soon disappeared. I heard him cutting at something with his _machete_; soon after he came up again, carrying a long stem of cane. "Now we'll try and fish up M. Sumichrast," said he.