BLACK FLIES — ANTELOPE ISLAND COVE. 205 



found silence that reigned around me. The night was cold, and I 

 found two great-coats exceedingly welcome. 



While passing from camp over the sand-flats, this morning, I ob- 

 served a quantity of translucent, white, pink, and blood-coloured 

 matter, of a gelatinous, or rather mucilaginous character, spread 

 about in coagulated masses upon the sand, whither it had apparently 

 been washed up from the lake by yesterday's gale. The quantity 

 was considerable, and, if the whole shore was similarly lined, must 

 have been very great. An incredible number of small black flies, 

 also, perfectly covered the white sand near the shore, changing its 

 colour completely — a fact only revealed as the swarms rose upon 

 being disturbed by our footsteps. They, too, had apparently been 

 driven in by the storm ; for I afterward discovered that they were 

 almost as thick upon the water as upon the land, moving over its 

 surface with great ease and swiftness. In the shallows left by the 

 receding waters, I noticed also quite a number of ants, (the first I 

 had seen,) drowned seemingly by the overflow. Both of these in- 

 sects doubtless furnish food for the gulls and snipes, which are 

 almost the only birds found along the shores. 



Saturday^ June 15. — Daylight found the boat at the mouth of 

 the passage between Fremont and Antelope Islands, and, shortly 

 after, we entered the beautiful little cove on the north-east side of 

 the latter, from the banks of which several springs trickle down 

 from the base of a small cliff" of protruding rocks. 



The scene was calm and lovely in the extreme. The rays of the 

 rising sun, glancing brightly over the eastern mountains, shone 

 upon the tiny ripples of the placid little bay, upon whose 

 bosom a flock of snow-white gulls was calmly floating ; while the 

 green and gently sloping shores, covered with a luxuriant growth 

 of rich and waving grass, contrasted strongly in our minds with the 

 dreary and desolate waste of sand over which we had been roaming 

 for the last month. Several little mocking-birds were singing gayly 

 on the shore, and the shrill, cheerful whistle of the curlew resound- 

 ed along the beach. Pour graceful antelopes were quietly grazing 

 on the grassy slope, while the cry of the wild duck, and the 

 trumpet-note of the sandhill crane were heard in the distance. The 

 whole formed a picture which, in this desolate region, was as wel- 

 come as it was rare. 



I found, this morning, that my conjecture respecting the food of 

 the gulls had been correct. Across the little bay ran a broad 

 Btreak of froth or foam, formed by the meeting of counter currents, 



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