And Lucien was about to continue his description of the trees, when a
series of incidents occurred which put an end to the conversation, at
least upon that subject.

These incidents are recorded in the chapter which follows.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE CHAIN OF DESTRUCTION.

Directly in front of the tent, and at no great distance from it, a thick
network of vines stretched between two trees. These trees were large
tupelos, and the vines, clinging from trunk to trunk and to one another,
formed an impenetrable screen with their dark green leaves. Over the
leaves grew flowers, so thickly as almost to hide them--the whole
surface shining as if a bright carpet had been spread from tree to tree
and hung down between them. The flowers were of different colours.
Some were white and starlike, but the greater number were the large
scarlet cups of the trumpet-vine (_bignonia_).

Francois, although listening to his brother, had for some time kept his
eyes in that direction, as if admiring the flowers. All at once,
interrupting the conversation, he exclaimed,--

"_Voila_! look yonder--humming-birds!"

Now the sight of humming-birds is not so common in America as travellers
would have you believe. Even in Mexico, where the species are numerous,
you will not see them every day. Indeed, you may not notice them at
all, unless you are specially looking for them. They are such small
creatures, and fly so nimbly--darting from flower to flower and tree to
tree--that you may pass along without observing them, or perhaps mistake
them for bees. In the United States, however, where only one species
has yet been noticed, the sight is a rare one, and generally interesting
to those who witness it. Hence Francois' exclamation was one of
surprise and pleasure.

"Where are they?" inquired Lucien, starting up in an interested manner.

"Yonder," replied Francois, "by the trumpet flowers. I see several, I
think."

"Softly, brothers," said Lucien; "approach them gently, so as not to
fright them off--I wish to make some observations upon them."

As Lucien said this, he walked cautiously forward, followed by Basil and
Francois.

"Ah!" exclaimed Lucien, as they drew near, "I see one now. It is the
ruby-throat (_Trochilus colubris_). He is feeding on the bignonias.
They are fonder of them than any other blossoms. See! he has gone up
into the funnel of the flower. Ha! he is out again. Listen to his
whirring wings, like the hum of