Ch. XXI.] MUDDY PLAINS. 375 



It was two hours after dark before we got across the 

 weary plains, and we found shelter for the night at a 

 small hut on their border, where, for a consideration, 

 the occupants gave up to us their mosquito curtains and 

 stretchers, and sat up themselves. I suppose in such situa- 

 tions people get used to the mosquitoes, but to us they 

 were intolerable. They buzzed around us and settled on 

 our hands and face, if the former were not incessantly 

 employed driving them off. Those of our party who had 

 no curtains had a lively time of it. A gentleman of 

 colour, from Jamaica, who was returning to the mines 

 after escorting young Mr. Seemann to the port, and who 

 could find no place to rest in, excepting an old hammock, 

 kept his long arms going round like a windmill, every 

 now and then wakening every one up with a loud crack, 

 as he tried to bring his flat hand down on one of his 

 tormentors. A mosquito, however, is not to be caught, 

 even in the dark, in such a way. It holds up its two 

 hinder legs as feelers ; and the current of air driven 

 before a descending blow warns it of the impending 

 danger, so it darts off to one side, to renew its attack 

 somewhere else. The most certain way to catch them in 

 the dark is to move the outstretched finger cautiously 

 towards where one is felt, until a safe striking distance is 

 reached. But what is the use of killing one when they 

 are in myriads ? None whatever, excepting that it is 

 some occupation for the sleepless victim. The black 

 gentleman was a thinker and a scholar, and used to 

 amuse himself at the mines by writing letters addressed 

 to Mr. Jacob Elam, Esqre. (himself), in which he was in- 

 formed he had been left legacies of ten, twenty, or thirty 

 thousand pounds, a few thousand more or less costing 



