226 CAMP-FIRES OF A NATURALIST. 



instant; then he replied with a smile, "Ja, Ga- 

 sh ens." 



He pointed in a most indefinite manner towards 

 several houses which were in sight about a mile from 

 the road, but as they were in different directions his 

 information was useless. Some time was lost in try- 

 ing to discover the fellow's meaning, and at last 

 the party decided on a house and went to it. On 

 asking if Goshens lived there they received an affirm- 

 ative answer, but were surprised to find that no one 

 about the place talked English, although Loughridge 

 had said that Goshens could give them information. 

 Arrangements were made, however, for accommoda- 

 tions. 



Mosquitoes had been plentiful for hours before they 

 reached the ranch, but now the air was literally alive 

 with them. The horses were fighting, kicking, and 

 rolling in their efforts to get rid of the pests, and when 

 Dyche went to put blankets on them he was driven 

 back into the house by the swarms of bloodthirsty in- 

 sects and was compelled to cover his head with a thick 

 cloth and his hands with gloves before he could get 

 near the horses. Then followed a wretched night, 

 the remembrance of which will ever remain vivid in 

 Dyche's mind. It was a constant struggle for fresh 

 air against swarming hordes of the most villanous 

 mosquitoes that ever sung. The air was perfectly 

 black with them, while their noise was almost like 

 the wind in the pines. To make matters worse, red 

 sand-fleas got into the sleeping-bags and did an ac- 

 tive business all night long. 



The second night was passed at the ranch of another 



