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Persons who have not navigated the great 

 rivers of equinoctial America, for instance, the 

 Oroonoko and the Rio Magdalena, can scarcely 

 conceive, how without interruption, at every 

 instant of life, you may be tormented by insects 

 flying in the air, and how the multitude of these 

 little animals may render vast regions almost 

 uninhabitable. However accustomed you may 

 be to endure pain without complaint, however 

 lively an interest you may take in the objects of 

 your researches, it is impossible not to be con- 

 stantly disturbed by the moschettoes, zancu- 

 does, jejens 9 and tempraneroes, that cover the 

 face and hands, pierce the clothes with their 

 long sucker in the form of a needle, and, getting 

 into the mouth and nostrils, set you coughing 

 and sneezing whenever you attempt to speak in 

 the open air. In the missions of the Oroonoko, 

 in the villages placed on the banks of the river, 

 surrounded by immense forests, the plaga de las 

 moscas, the plague of the flies, affords an inex- 

 haustible subject of conversation. When two 

 persons meet in the morning, the first questions 

 they address to each other are, " How did you 

 find the zancudoes during the night ? How are 

 we to day for the moschettoes*." These ques- 

 tions remind us of a Chinese form of politeness, 



* Que le han parecido los zancudos de noche ? como stamos 

 hoy de mosquitos ? 



