Gringalet now showed himself, soon followed by l'Encuerado. When he caught sight of us, the Indian raised a loud "Hiou! hiou!" Waving his hat in the air, he threw upon the ground some dark object, which fell heavily on the turf, and then he began dancing. We roared with laughter at his grotesque steps, and Lucien ran towards the Mistec, who, after his dance, was acting the acrobat on the turf. "A turkey!" he cried; and an enormous bird, with bronzed plumage, was passed from hand to hand. "Ah! Chanito," cried the Indian, "if you had gone with me, you would have seen a whole flock of them! I had chased those miserable doves till I was tired, without even catching a glimpse of them, and was resting at the foot of a tree, when Gringalet pricked up his ears, and running up the opposite slope of the mountain, barked as loudly as if he saw another porcupine. I also made my way there, and heard 'gobbles' resounding in every direction; Master Gringalet had fallen in with a council of turkeys." "A council of turkeys?" repeated Lucien. "Yes, Chanito, turkeys hold councils. They generally travel in flocks and on foot, although they know perfectly well how to fly when they want to cross a stream or to make their escape; and when one of them wants to communicate his opinion to another, he raises a cry, and his companions form a circle round him." "And what takes place then?" "The preacher," continued l'Encuerado, without the least idea of irreverence, "lowers his neck and then lifts it up again, raises up the hair-like feathers on his crop, and spreads out his tail like a fan. He then addresses the assembled birds, who strut about with their wings half opened, and answer him with approving gobbles." The Indian, carried away by his narrative, added gestures to words, strutted about, rounded his arms and lowered his chin upon his breast, in order to imitate the ways of the birds which he was describing. "But what do they say?" asked Lucien, archly. "That depends on circumstances," he replied, scratching his forehead. "The flock just now surprised must have cried out: 'What is this animal?'--'A dog,' would be the answer of the most knowing among them. 'Fly, my friends, fly!' he would cry; 'dogs are always accompanied by men, and men have guns.' 'A gun! what's that?'--'A machine that goes _boum_ and kills turkeys.' Then I make my appearance; they bustle about, fly away, and spread in every direction; but my gun had time to go _boum_ and to kill this beautiful bird."