570 DAN BEARD'S ANIMAL BOOK 



and for that very reason it seems to have escaped the 

 serious study which has been devoted to some more rare 

 species. Last summer, while paddling for three weeks 

 down a wilderness stream we did not see a single house 

 fly until a few hours before we struck the first back- 

 woods settlement. Then a fly lit upon my hand. Point- 

 ing to the fly I said to my Indian, " Come to house soon, 

 eh?" The Indian smiled and replied, " Wey, ze 

 house we see soon, maybe dinner time." At my log 

 cabin at Wildlands there are no house flies until the 

 teams come up from the station with the baggage and 

 provisions. The house fly accompanies both the oxen 

 and the horses and then stops over to visit us. 



On a cold day the flies all crawl up the chimney to get 

 warm over the smoldering fire, but if a fresh log is 

 thrown on the embers it is amusing to see two proces- 

 sions of flies hurriedly marching down, each side of the 

 fireplace in search of cooler quarters. If you want to 

 keep flies out of your farm house you must put screens 

 on the top of the big chimney. 



I said that there were no house flies in the wilderness; 

 the truth is we do not need them there. Their place is 

 bountifully supplied by myriads of little humpbacked 

 insects known as the black fly, only too familiar to 

 anglers who frequent the north woods. The bite of a 

 black fly produces a red spot about the size of a soda 

 mint tablet, which feels as if a pinch of cow itch and a 

 red-hot coal had been introduced under the skin. Fish- 

 ermen protect themselves by the use of various " dopes," 

 with which they anoint their face and hands, and also 

 by a net worn over their heads and kid gloves on their 



