"You are quite right," answered Sumichrast; "the vegetation in the _Terre-Chaude_ is more vigorous than that of the _Terre-Temperee_. As you advance farther into it, you will be able to judge." "Did you see that great insect that flew buzzing past us?" "Yes, Master Sunbeam; but it was a humming-bird, not an insect." "A humming-bird!" cried the boy, at once unfolding his butterfly-net. And off he went in pursuit of the fugitive. The agile bird made a thousand turns, and always kept out of reach of the young sportsman, who at last stopped suddenly in front of a shrub. When I joined him, he was contemplating three little nests, fixed in forked branches, and covered outside with green and yellow lichens. "There's the bird!" said Lucien, in a low voice. I lifted up the little naturalist; two hen-birds flew off, and at the bottom of each nest he could see a couple of eggs of a greenish color, and about the size of a pea. "If you hold me a little closer, papa, I can take the eggs." "What would be the good, my boy? Look at them as long as you like, but don't deprive the little birds of what is most dear to them." "There's one bird which has not moved," observed Lucien. "Then, no doubt, its little ones are hatched." "The whole of its body seems to glitter; it looks as if it was blue, green, and gold color. It sees me, and is moving. Now it is perched upon the tree! Only look, papa! there are two young ones in the bottom of the nest." I put Lucien down on the ground, so that he might go to l'Encuerado, who was calling him. The Indian had found a humming-bird's nest fixed on a branch, which he had cut off and was bringing us. The elegant little structure was a perfect marvel of architectural skill, lined inside with the silky down of some plant. Two young birds, still unfledged, and scarcely as big as nuts, opened their beaks as if to ask for food. I directed l'Encuerado to replace the branch on the tree from whence he had cut it, and to fasten it so that it could not fall down. I followed him, to make sure he did it rightly. As soon as we came near the shrub, the mother fluttered all round the Indian, and at last settled down, panting, on her young brood. "You're a brave bird!" cried the Indian, "and I ask your pardon for having carried away your house. Don't be afraid, my name is l'Encuerado, and you may safely trust in me. Don't tremble! I would sooner be hurt myself than cause you the least harm. There, now you are all firmly fixed again, and you may live in peace. Your little ones can tell you that I have not teased them; I only wanted to show them to Chanito. Good-bye, Senor _Huitzitzilin_! you are a brave bird, and it's I, l'Encuerado, who tells you so!" And the Indian went away, saluting the valiant mother with so many waves of his hat that the poor bird must have thought her last hour had come. "What do these beautiful little birds feed upon, M. Sumichrast?"