STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 145 



discussion may be the coolie immigration laws, or the proper 

 scientific name for some species of orchid or who is to be 

 the next Governor but some sharp-eyed fellow sufferer is 

 certain to detect the guilty look upon one's face which trans- 

 lated into words would be " My ankles are devoured by bete- 

 rouge!" and then the assembled company begins to discuss 

 the topic of really vital interest. 



\Ye tried all the remedies Scrubb's ammonia, dry soap, 

 wet salt, wet soda, alcohol, resinol ointment, chloroform 

 camphor, to little purpose beyond very temporary relief. 

 Finally we reached the stage when good manners were thrown 

 to the winds and every victim scratched at will, despite the 

 fact that it eventually aggravated the trouble. There was 

 developed an individuality in the method so that at long 

 distances we were- able to recognize one another by the 

 characteristic motions of discomfort ! 



Then came the discovery of crab-oil, which is an ounce of 

 prevention and not a cure. Rubbed on before going out, no 

 sane bete-rouge will attack you. Crab-oil is made of the nut 

 of the crab-wood tree and it is greasy and sticky and has a 

 disagreeable, rancid odor, which is very lasting. One of us 

 hinted that it was a question whether the remedy were not 

 worse than the disease. She even objected to having bottles 

 of crab-oil rolled for safety in packing, in her very limited 

 supply of clothing. She was promptly pronounced tk fm- 

 nicky " by her " better half " who was righteously indignant 

 and surprised at discovering so unexpected a quality in her. 

 But then he, more than anyone else, was afflicted with bete- 

 rouge; and so could not be expected to see anything at all 

 objectionable in the odor of the crab-oil to which he owed so 

 much relief. It does unquestionably give relief. Well pro- 

 tected with crab-oil one can bid defiance to the annoying little 

 pests, which an old gentleman whom we chanced to meet in 

 our travels persistently and seriously called " bete noir" 



