littered with dirty paper, old tins, sticks, and ferns. A more truly uninviting place would be hard to find; and all the time a booming, like a swarm of bees round our heads, warned us that though we might find a resting-place, we should not find rest. The mosquitoes, fasting no doubt, for many days, came at us like an army—never have I seen anything like them. It was maddening—not to be borne! The first thing would be to clear them out. Alas! it was little we knew of these wily foes. I collected all the rubbish off the floor while Transome attended to the horses, and hunted about for some wood dry enough to burn. Then we got a fire alight and set out our provisions. We had tea, eggs, and bread and butter in one of the bags, and as soon as there were some charcoal embers we piled them on an old shovel, and threw our sugar supply on to it. It certainly made a terrific smoke, but it only drove the wretched pests up into the roof, to descend again as soon as the air cleared. Then we lighted Himrod’s Powder and ate our supper in an atmosphere so thick, we could only just see each other by the light of our candles. Never was such a desperately uncomfortable night! We tried to read—quite useless; exclamations and slaps and flappings disturbed our endeavours, and we finally wrapped our heads in veils and old newspapers and tired to sleep. It was hopeless. Ping, ping at our ears was sure to wake us up just as we were dropping off, and
