"It must be so, as a matter of course; the salamander, like a fish, is a cold-blooded animal. The viscous humor which is secreted by the skin of the salamander is able to protect them for a short time from injury by fire, by means of the same phenomenon by which a hand, previously wetted, can be plunged into melting iron without burning it.[J] Thus an idea has arisen that these batrachians can exist in the midst of flames. Although these poor animals are deaf, nearly blind, and remarkable for their timidity, poets, much to the amusement of naturalists, have chosen the salamander as an emblem of valor." Assisted by Sumichrast, I continued the examination of the immense tree, which, being half rotted by the dampness of the soil, supplied us with some very beautiful specimens of various insects. Suddenly we heard Lucien speaking in supplicating tones; I ran towards him, and found him trying to prevent l'Encuerado, who had got possession of the salamander, from making a trial of its powers of resisting fire. "All right, Chanito; I will not leave it long on the coals; your papa said that these animals do not mind it a bit." Lucien would not consent to this cruel experiment, but carried the animal back to the tree on which we had found it. The day was drawing to a close when we returned to the fire; from the stew-pan an appetizing odor was escaping, in which one of the couroucous, with a handful of rice, was boiling, while the other bird was roasting in front. It was really a capital dinner; first we had some excellent soup, of which Lucien had two platefuls; then came what was left of our squirrel, and last of all the roasted couroucou, which l'Encuerado served up on a bed of water-cresses. We had an unlimited supply of water; and, although my readers may smile at what I say, I really believe we drank too much. A cup of coffee crowned our feast, and then the remains were left to Gringalet, who licked every thing clean, even to the very saucepan. Lucien, having finished his meal, lay down by my side, and was not long before he was fast asleep. [Illustration] A dismal howling from our four-footed companion woke us up with a start. We seized our arms. The dog, with his ears laid back, his tail between his legs, turned his nose to the wind with an anxious glance, and set up a fresh howl, which was answered by the shrill prolonged cries of the coyotas, or jackal of Mexico. [Illustration: "It was really a capital dinner."] "So these miserable brutes think they are going to frighten us?" cried l'Encuerado. And while we were making up the fire, the Indian rushed off into the darkness. "Are they wolves, M. Sumichrast?" asked Lucien, anxiously. "Yes, my boy, but only prairie wolves," he answered. "Do you think that they will first devour l'Encuerado, and then attack us?" "You needn't be frightened; courage is not one of their virtues. Unless they were starving, they wouldn't venture near us."