A PLAGUE OF MOSQUITOES. 229 



screaming sound, rising and falling with the move- 

 ments of the swarms, which extended for miles 

 upon miles in every direction. Dyche was at once 

 covered. After starting a fire with the old logs, 

 so that a dense smoke would rise, he returned to 

 the tent, but there went with him hundreds of 

 mosquitoes, and another hour was spent with the 

 candle getting rid of them. This experience was 

 repeated night after night, while the days were 

 spent in brushing the swarms away from the 

 nose, mouth, and eyes. With every precaution it was 

 impossible to be free from the bites, and their hands 

 and faces were swollen from the poisonous stings. 

 The tops of the tall tamarack trees were the only 

 places where the hunters could be free from the pests. 



An old Norwegian lived in a small log hut near, 

 and the hunters paid him a visit. They soon discov- 

 ered that the old fellow had evidently lost his sense 

 of smell. He spent his time in catching and curing 

 fish, which he caught by means of a dam and fish- 

 trap in the stream. These fish were hung on a pole 

 to dry, and with them hung the skin of the old man's 

 dog, which had died a few days before. The Nor- 

 wegian offered some fish from the pole to his visitors, 

 but they were declined with thanks. The extent of 

 his conversational powers was limited to " Ja, so," 

 which fact gave him the name of " Old Ja So." 



The days were slipping by and neither moose nor 

 signs of moose were found. Dyche had come to the 

 country early in order to get moose calves, but as 

 time passed he saw no prospect of accomplishing his 

 object. Days were passing into weeks, and some- 



