arching through it."

"Should I die if I were stung?"

"No; but it would cause a very painful swelling, which it would be best
to avoid."

"I shall be afraid to meddle with the bark of trees, now."

"Then good-bye to your making a collection of insects. Prudence is a
very good quality, but you must not make it an excuse for cowardice."

Upon examining the insects more closely, I saw that one of the
scorpions, a female, was carrying three or four young ones on her back.
This sight much amused Lucien, especially when he saw the animal begin
to move slowly off with them.

"Do you know, Chanito," said l'Encuerado, who had now joined us, which
showed that the cooking did not require his undivided attention, "that
when the mother of the young scorpions does not supply them with food,
they set to and devour her."

"Is that true?" asked Lucien, with surprise.

"If the little ones do not actually kill their mother, at all events
they feed on her dead body," I answered. "You will have plenty of
opportunities to verify this fact, for these insects are very plentiful
in the _Terre-Temperee_."

"Ah!" cried Lucien, "I was quite right, then, when I called them horrid
creatures."

L'Encuerado, stripping off another piece of bark, exposed to view a
salamander, which awkwardly tried to hide itself.

"You may catch it if you like; there is nothing to be afraid of," said I
to Lucien, who had drawn back in fright.

"But it is a scorpion!" he exclaimed.

"You are too frightened to see clearly; it is a salamander, an
amphibious reptile of the frog family. The scorpion has eight feet,
while the salamander, which is much more like a lizard, has only four."

"Are they venomous?" asked Lucien of the Indian.

"No, Chanito; _Indians_" (it was well worth while hearing the contempt
with which l'Encuerado pronounced this name) "are afraid of it; once I
was afraid of it myself, but your papa has taught me to handle it
without the least fear."

And the hunter placed the salamander in the boy's hand, who cried out--

"It is as cold as ice, and all sticky."

"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