THE STORY OF PIKE. 239 



although the}' could still move about the}- rested more at 

 the surface of the water than formerly. 



At last, one sunny afternoon, when the water was quite 

 still and smooth, a wonderful thing happened to the wrig- 

 glers. They were resting, perfecth^ still, hundreds and 

 thousands of them, at the surface of the water, with their 

 .heads upright and their tails hanging downward, when 

 each began to feel the skin splitting open along the back. 

 Soon one of them managed to get his head out, then his 

 legs, and at last his whole body. His empty shell was 

 now like a tiny boat, and he stood on the edge of it, wait- 

 ing for his wings to stretch and dry. This required little 

 more than half a minute, and then he flew awaj', a full- 

 fledged mosquito, ready to live on the land, fly about at 

 night, bother people who want to sleep, and make a little 

 nuisance of himself. 



By the time this mosquito had flown away, hundreds of 

 others were already standing on tiptoe on their little boats, 

 drying their wings and impatient to follow. As they rose 

 into the air, others were getting ready, and so, for al- 

 most all the afternoon, there was a stream of mosquitoes 

 rising from the bog at the mouth of the brook beside the 

 lake. 



Once, during the afternoon, a dreadful thing happened. 

 The sun was warm, the water smooth, and the mosquitoes 

 were coming out in great numbers. Thousands were 

 standing on their boats, drying their wings, when a breeze 

 came across the lake and up the brook. It ruffled the wa- 

 ter and upset the boats, drowning all those that had got 

 out of their shells but were not yet ready to fly. 



It was a very great catastrophe. In different parts of 

 the lake, millions of mosquitoes perished that afternoon 

 because of the breeze that came at just the wrong time for 

 them. It was a greater loss of life than was ever caused 

 by any accident to human beings ; but nothing was said 



