170 ODD HOURS WITH NATURE 



the tribes of men are insignificant compared with 

 them. Around the loch they are on a mild and 

 humid evening- numerous enough to make a faint 

 haze in the near air. But they abound on every 

 part of the hills up to at least sixteen hundred feet, 

 and probably farther. And every midge among 

 those countless billions or, to be more accurate, 

 every female midge is equipped with the most 

 wonderfully complex and perfectly adapted instru- 

 ment for the piercing of mammalian skins and the 

 sucking of mammalian blood. In its microscopic 

 proboscis there is a fret saw, with supports for 

 boring, and a tube and pumping apparatus, and 

 a mechanism for secreting a liquid which, mixing 

 with the blood, renders it thin enough to be drawn 

 through the very fine tube. It is the injection of 

 this liquid which is supposed to make the attentions 

 of the midge so highly irritating to the victim. 



But to what an enormous extent is all this 

 sanguinary equipment thrown away. Hardly one 

 in a million of the midges of this district can 

 ever taste blood. The larger animals, chiefly deer, 

 are so rare on the ground that only careful search 

 reveals their existence. The human inhabitants 

 are few, and vast expanses of the hill are practically 

 never trodden by them. In short, it is certain 

 that all but an insignificant fringe of the number- 

 less gnat hordes must die without ever having 

 tasted blood, for which, to judge by their actions 

 when the opportunity comes, they are ceaselessly 

 thirsty. It would be difficult to imagine a case 

 of more prodigal waste of elaborate armature. 



And yet Scotland at its worst presents but a 



