62 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES 



This was early in the season. On July 9, on Nyarling 

 River, they were much worse, and my entry was as 

 follows : 



"On the back of Billy's coat, as he sat paddling 

 before me, I counted a round 400 mosquitoes boring 

 away; about as many were on the garments of his 

 head and neck, a much less number on his arms and 

 legs. The air about was thick with them; at least as 

 many more, fully 1,000, singing and stinging and filling 

 the air with a droning hum. The rest of us were 

 equally pestered. 



"The Major, fresh, ruddy, full-blooded, far over 200 

 pounds in plumpness, is the best feeding ground for 

 mosquitoes I (or they, probably) ever saw; he must 

 be a great improvement on the smoke-dried Indians. 

 No matter where they land on him they strike it rich, 

 and at all times a dozen or more bloated bloodsuckers 

 may be seen hanging like red currants on his face and 

 neck. He maintains that they do not bother him, and 

 scoffs at me for wearing a net. They certainly do not 

 impair his health, good looks, or his perennial good- 

 humour, and I, for one, am thankful that his superior 

 food-quality gives us a corresponding measure of 

 immunity." 



At Salt River one could kill 100 with a stroke of the 

 palm, and at times they obscured the colour of the 

 horses. A little later they were much worse. On 6 

 square inches of my tent I counted 30 mosquitoes, and 

 the whole surface was similarly supplied; that is, there 

 were 24,000 on the tent and apparently as many 

 more flying about the door. Most of those that bite 



