ANTS AND FLEAS. 71 



into those wild mountains alone. He shared 

 Brown's bed on one side of the tent, while Dyche 

 occupied the other. About midnight the sleepers 

 were aroused by an appalling din, and Clare bolted 

 through the tent entrance without waiting to untie 

 the strings. He stood by the fire yelling at the top 

 of his voice. 



" What's the matter with you? Have you got the 

 nightmare?" asked Brown. 



"Ants! ants in my pants!" yelled Clare, as he 

 rubbed his legs and tried to dislodge the insects. He 

 was scolded into returning to bed, and the camp had 

 barely got settled down again when the racket broke 

 out once more, but this time it was Brown, and he 

 was immediately followed by Clare. 



"Ants! ants!" they screamed. Dyche grumbled 

 at them for disturbing him and asked why they could 

 not make less noise. 



" It's Brown that's got the nightmare," said Clare. 

 "It isn't so funny now." Just then Dyche felt as if 

 a piece had been bitten out of his leg, and he gave a 

 jump and shout that told the others that they were not 

 alone in their misery. The rest of the night was 

 spent in searching for the voracious insects and 

 driving them out. The tent had been pitched 

 near the site of a big ant-hill, but it was supposed 

 that all the insects had been cleared out. At break- 

 fast in the morning Brown suddenly dropped his plate 

 and seized his leg with an exclamation. 



" I've got him, sure, this time," he said, and an in- 

 vestigation revealed no ant, but a big reddish flea. 

 The whole thing was plain now. There were no ants, 



