Hazel examined the fruit and flowers very carefully, and stood rapt,
transfixed.
"It must be!--and it is!" said he, at last. "Well, I'm glad I've not died
without seeing it."
"What is it?" said she.
"One of the most valuable productions of the earth. It is cochineal. This
is the Tunal tree."
"Oh, indeed," said Helen, indifferently. "Cochineal is used for a dye;
but as it is not probable we shall require to dye anything, the discovery
seems to me more curious than useful."
"You wanted some ink. This pigment, mixed with lime-juice, will form a
beautiful red ink. Will you lend me your handkerchief and permit me to
try if I have forgotten the method by which these little insects are
obtained?" He asked her to hold her handkerchief under a bough of the
Tunal tree, where the fruit was ripe. He then shook the bough. Some
insects fell at once into the cloth. A great number rose and buzzed a
little in the sun not a yard from where they were born; but the sun dried
their blood so promptly that they soon fell dead in the handkerchief.
Those that the sun so killed went through three phases of color before
their eyes. They fell down black or nearly. They whitened on the cloth;
and after that came gradually to their final color, a flaming crimson.
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