of whipping and
kicking on the part of the rider, the animal moved on again. What had
set it dancing? That was the question. It had the disposition to be
"frisky," but usually appeared to be lacking in strength. The buzz of a
horse-fly sounding in our ears explained all. It was one of those large
insects--the "horse-bug,"--peculiar to the Mississippi country, and
usually found near watercourses. They are more terrible to horses than
a fierce dog would be. I have known horses gallop away from them as if
pursued by a beast of prey.

There is a belief among western people that these insects are propagated
by the horses themselves; that is, that the eggs of the female are
deposited upon the grass, so that the horses may swallow them; that
incubation goes on within the stomach of the animal, and that the
chrysalis is afterwards voided. I have met with others who believed in
a still stranger theory; that the insect itself actually sought, and
found, a passage into the stomach of the horse, some said by passing
down his throat, others by boring a hole through his abdomen; and that
in such cases the horse usually sickened, and was in danger of dying!

After the doctor's mustang had returned to proper behaviour, these odd
theories became the subject of discussion. The Kentuckian believed in
them--the Englishman doubted them--the hunter-naturalist could not
endorse them--and Besancon ignored them entirely.

Shortly after the incident we entered the bottom lands of a considerable
stream. These were heavily-timbered, and the shadow of the great forest
trees afforded us a pleasant relief from the hot sun. Our guides told
us we had several miles of such woods to pass through, and we were glad
of the information. We noticed that most of the trees were beech, and
their smooth straight trunks rose like columns around us.

The beech (_Fagus sylvatica_) is one of the most beautiful of American
forest trees. Unlike most of the others, its bark is smooth, without
fissures, and often of a silvery hue. Large beech-trees standing by the
path, or near a cross road, are often seen covered with names, initials,
and dates. Even the Indian often takes advantage of the bark of a
beech-tree to signalise his presence to his friends, or commemorate some
savage exploit. Indeed, the beautiful column-like trunk seems to invite
the knife, and many a souvenir is carved upon it by the loitering
wayfarer. It does not, however, invite the