we reached, followed by
hosts of winged pursuers, the edge of some water lying amidst
tree-covered banks-the water was the Red River, and the white wooden
building the steamboat "International."

Now one word about mosquitoes in the valley of the Red River. People will
be inclined to say, "We know well what a mosquito is--very troublesome
and annoying, no doubt, but you needn't make so much of what every one
understands." People reading what I have written about this insect will
probably say this. I would have said so myself before the occurrences of
the last two nights, but I will never say so again, nor perhaps will my
readers when they have read the following: It is no unusual event during
a wet summer in that portion of Minnesota and Dakota to which I refer for
oxen and horses to perish from the bites of mosquitoes. An exposure of a
very few hours duration is sufficient to cause death to these animals.
It is said, too, that not many years ago the Sioux were in the habit of
sometimes killing their captives by exposing them at night to the attacks
of the mosquitoes; and any person who has experienced the full intensity
of a mosquito night along the American portion of the Red River will not
have any difficulty in realizing how short a period would be necessary to
cause death.

Our arrival at the "International" was the cause of no small amount of
discomfort to the persons already on board that vessel. It took us but
little time to rush over the gangway and seek safety from our pursuers
within the precincts of the steamboat: but they were not to be baffled
easily; they came in after us in millions; like Bishop Haddo's rats, they
came "in at the windows and in at the doors," until in a very short space
of time the interior of the boat became perfectly black with insects.
Attracted by the light they flocked into the saloon, covering walls and
ceiling in one dark mass. We attempted supper, but had to give it up.
They got into the coffee, they stuck fast in the soft, melting butter,
until at length, feverish, bitten, bleeding, and hungry, I sought refuge
beneath the gauze curtains in my cabin, and fell asleep from sheer
exhaustion.

And in truth there was reason enough for sleep independently of
mosquitoes bites. By dint of hard travel we had accomplished 104 miles
in twenty-seven hours. The midnight storm had lost us three hours and
added in no small degree to discomfort. Mosquitoes had certainly caused
but little tho