320 AN UNCOMFORTABLE LODGING. 
ripple the water is fatal to it now, as ship- 
wreck is inevitable; but if all is calm and con- 
ducive to safety, the little fly dries, the wings 
expand, it inhales the air, and along with it 
strength and power to fly; then bidding goodbye 
to the frail barque, wings its way to the land, and 
begins a war of persecution. 
Mosquitos never venture far over the water 
after once quitting their skin-canoe: this fact the 
wily savage has taken advantage of. During 
‘the reign of terror’ the Indians never come on 
shore if they can help it; and if they do, they 
take good care to flog every intruder out of the 
canoes before reaching the stage. 
These stages, each with a family of Indians 
living on them, have a most picturesque ap- 
pearance. The little fleet of canoes are moored 
to the poles, and the platform reached by a ladder 
made of twisted cedar-bark. Often have I slept 
on these stages among the savages, to avoid 
being devoured. But I am not quite sure if one 
gains very much by the change: in the first 
place, if you are restless, and roll about in your 
sleep, you stand a very good chance of finding 
yourself soused in the lake. The perfumes— 
varied but abundant—that regale your nose are 
not such as are wafted from ‘tropic isles’ or 
