"Senor," said l'Encuerado, "Chanito (this was the name he gave to Lucien) is tired, and this is his first journey; I'll give him back all his things to-morrow." "It will be much better for him to get accustomed to them now. Give him back his baggage, it is not too heavy for him; if you don't, you will be the one to be scolded." The Indian grumbled before he obeyed; then, taking the boy by the hand, dropped behind, muttering to him: "When you don't want to walk any more, Chanito, you must tell me, and you shall ride on the top of my pack." "No," said I, turning round; "if you do any thing of the kind, I will send both of you home." "My shoulders are my own," replied the Indian, earnestly; "surely I have a right to employ them as I choose." Sumichrast burst out laughing at this logic, and I was obliged to go on in front, or I should have done the same. Nevertheless, I feared lest Lucien should learn, on the very first day of his journey, to depend too much on l'Encuerado's kindness. I was, therefore, pleased to hear him refuse several times the Indian's offer of putting him up on his pack, an idea which the faithful fellow persisted in with an obstinacy which I had long known him to possess. A little time after--thinking, doubtless, that his dignity compelled him to prove that he was easily able to increase the weight of his load--he seized Gringalet, who was walking close behind lolling out his tongue, and throwing the dog up on his back, and commencing an Indian trot, ran by us with a triumphant look. Gringalet was at first taken by surprise, and, raising a cry of distress, wanted to jump down; but he soon sat quiet enough, without displaying any uneasiness, to the great joy of my son, who was much amused at the incident. The plain which we were crossing seemed absolutely interminable. "It's no use our walking," said Lucien; "we don't appear to make any advance." "Fortunately, you are mistaken," replied Sumichrast. "Look in front of you, and you will see that the trees on ahead, which a short time ago looked like one uninterrupted mass of foliage, can now be discerned separately." "You mean the forest which we can see from here?" "What you take for a forest is nothing but a few trees scattered about the plain." "Isn't M. Sumichrast wrong in that, father?"