178 THE entomologist's record. 



district was invaded by vast hordes of large Culices, the air thick 

 with millions of them, at times charging in close column up the road 

 like a squadron of cavalry, at other times engaged in dancing up and 

 down after the manner of their race ; whilst, at the same time, another 

 species, possibly (.'. detritus, also already noted — Douglas says — as occur- 

 ring in multitudes at Holywood by Haliday, are described by Douglas 

 as "congregating in enormous swarms ; at first appearing like a small 

 black cloud curling about the ends of the branches, and soon, when the 

 air is calm, rising in a dense column like smoke from a chimney for a 

 distance of some 20 or 30 feet, the bulk gradually becoming more grey 

 and attenuated until lost to sight in the upward progress. When a 

 breeze is moving, the insects, always preserving close order, are blown 

 out laterally, and after skirmishing with the wind, return to their cover 

 among the top leaves of the tree. It is a wonderful sight." 



Sharp observes {Insects, ii., p. 467) : " Swarms of various species 

 of CuUciitae, consisting sometimes of almost incalculable numbers of 

 individuals occur in various parts of the world ; one in New Zealand 

 is recorded as having been three-quarters of a mile long, twenty feet 

 high, and eighteen inches thick." In Insect Life, i., p. 351, is a note 

 to the effect that in the days just preceding March 28th, 1889, 

 immense swarms of Chironomus nigricans appeared in that vicinity, 

 coming from the Mississippi and forming in the air immense clouds, 

 covering everything with which they came in contact. But Butler's 

 description of "a mosquito night" in Dakota, in The Great Lone 

 Land, gives one a most vivid idea of the movements of these insects 

 in the warmer parts of America. He writes : " There came upon us 

 dense swarms of mosquitoes, humming and buzzing along with us as 

 we journeyed on, and covering our faces and heads with their sharp 

 stinging bites. They seem to come with us, after us, and against us, 

 from above and below in volumes that ever increased. As soon as 

 the sun had dipped beneath the sea of verdure, an ominous sound 

 caused me to gallop on with increasing haste. The pony seemed to 

 know the significance of that sound much better than its rider. He 

 no longer lagged, nor needed the spur or the whip to urge him to faster 

 exertion, for darker and denser than on the previous night, there arose 

 around us vast numbers of mosquitoes — choking masses of biting 

 insects, no mere cloud, thicker and denser in one place than in another, 

 but one huge wall of never-ending insects, filling nostrils, ears, and 

 eyes. Where they came from I cannot tell ; the prairie seemed too 

 small to hold them, the air too limited to yield them space. I have seen 

 many vast accumulations of insect life in lands old and new, but never 

 anything that approached to this mountain of mosquitoes on the 

 prairies of Dakota. To say that they covered the coat of that horse 

 that I rode would be to give but a faint idea of their numbers ; they 

 were literally six or eight deep upon his skin, and with a single sweep 

 of the hand one could crush myriads from his neck. Their hum 

 seemed to be in all things around. To ride for it was the sole resource. 

 Darkness came quickly down but the track knew no turn for seven 

 miles. I kept the pony at a gallop, my face, neck, and hands, cut and 

 bleeding. I took as but little time to rush over the gangway and 

 seek safety from our pursuers within the precincts of the steamboat, 

 but they were not to be baffitd easily. They came in after us in 

 millions, like Bishop Haddo's rats, they came in at all the windows 

 and in at the doors, until in a very short space of time the interior of 



