MOSQUITO PESTS 55 



season mosquitoes are in great numbers, but 

 when they are particularly bad — swarming and 

 biting with unshakable persistency — it is a certain 

 sign that rain is near. Those insects, and black- 

 flies and sand-flies at times, are the bane of summer 

 travel in Canadian north territory. Out on the 

 water they never trouble one, but on shore they 

 pounce on one from the vegetation that is there, 

 and are a constant jar to one's full pleasure. One 

 should never set out, as I thoughtlessly did, 

 without mosquito curtains ; I would never again 

 overlook to prepare against them. True they 

 carry no disease, but in numbers and capacity 

 to torment they far outstrip the malarial mosquito 

 in Africa (Anopheles) in my experience. 



We reached the east end of Knee Lake between 

 9 and 10 a.m. There were there, close to the 

 exit from the lake, a small log cabin or two, on 

 the north shore and on an island. Those were 

 completely deserted of Indian or halfbreed : no 

 sound was there, no contented smoke curled 

 above the thatched roof to give welcome to lonely 

 voyageur hungry for companionship and the sound 

 of human voices. The inhabitants had gone, the 

 men taking with them their womenfolk and their 

 children, even their dogs. They had gone, per- 

 haps, to meet the Treaty Party, perhaps to pitch 

 their teepees at some favoured summer haunt 

 where fish and fowl and beast were sufficient to 

 feed them plentifully. 



Invariably those log cabins of Indians are 

 built — as those here were — on a site remarkable 

 for the long stretches of water it commands : 

 the sharp bend of a river, or the junction of two 



