at night, Raynal at his forge, and I, after dark, at the sails in the house. We have had sails, masts, and everything to make. But the other day I thought we were ruined, for I broke the gimblet, without which our only means of making holes would have been to have burned them, which would be a most tedious process, for we required a great number of them; but, fortunately for us, Mr. Raynal managed to make it so that we can make a hole with it.
I have not said anything about the blow-flies and sand-flies lately. I may briefly state that they are equally as bad as they were when we first came here; and in consequence of having to work on the beach we are constantly exposed to the virulence of the latter, which surpasses my powers of description. I have seen mosquitoes very bad. I knew an instance, in a place called Nicarie, on the coast of Surinam, of a sailor being driven mad by them, and, seeking relief by plunging overboard, was drowned. I have also been in many other places, where I found them as troublesome as the Nicarie; but never have I seen anything in the shape of mosquitoes to equal those sand-flies in malignity. If the wind is moderate in the least degree—that is to say, if it is not blowing a whole gale, they are flying about in myriads, from daylight to dark (fortunately they modestly retire in the night), and alight on you in clouds, literally covering every part of your skin that happens to be exposed, and not only that, but they get inside our clothes and bite there. I do not think that at the present moment I could place the point of a needle on any part of my hands or face clear of their bites. I remember on one occasion, when working at the boat, a long time ago, having to abandon my job and come into the house. But there is no abandoning it now—we must grin and bear it, and persevere to get the job done. When the boat is launched, which she must be as soon as possible (as we are not able to get much to eat without her), we shall have to leave this place, and go down to
