i6o I N A G U A 



halo of mosquitoes about my hair. My face seemed puffed to 

 twice its normal size, the skin of my lips was stretched and hard, 

 the poison of hundreds of bites was seeping into the tissues of 

 my arms, making them stiff— once more I gained control and 

 began repeating the words again,— ;f/;e sluggish clod which the 

 rude swain turns with his share and treads up072. The oak shall 

 send his roots abroad ajid pierce thy jnoidd. Yet not to thine 

 eternal resting place— I would have given anything for a place 

 to shep—shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish couch 

 more magnificeiit. 



I was only deceiving myself, the pain and annoyance was 

 maddening; "Thanatopsis" helped only for brief seconds at 

 a time. I was finding difficulty in remembering the words al- 

 though I knew the poem by heart. Blindly I sloshed on, trying 

 to repeat the familiar cadences. The gay will laugh when thou 

 art gone, the solemn brood of care plod on, and each one as 

 before will chase— will chase his favorite— favorite phanto7n; 

 yet all these shall leave their ?nirth—and — and— their eifiploy- 



ments — and shall come, and make their bed with thee. 



Numbly I resisted crying out at the mosquitoes. 



The events of the remainder of that evening stay with me as 

 a miserable dream. Utterly weary, too tired to go much further, 

 half frantic with insect bites, I eventually emerged about two 

 in the morning and limped down to the beach. Here the trade 

 winds brought relief and drove away the swarming myriads. 

 I dimly remember slumping down on the sand in the shelter of 

 a mound of rock and slipping off into unconsciousness. I may 

 have been still muttering the lines of "Thanatopsis"; I do not 

 recall. 



In the morning I roused myself sufficiently to strip and wash 

 in the surf, laying my muddy clothes in the sun to dry. My face 

 was still badly swollen and puffed and big lumps stood out all 

 over my body. I was burning up with fever; I thought it was 



