this proved to be some saint's day, observed by all good Mexicans as a day of rest and feasting.[4] We endeavored to get them to take us back to town, but no one would be guilty of such sacrilege as working on a feast-day. When asked when we could proceed on the journey they said "Mañana." After breakfast our party strolled off into the pasture along the channel and when we returned to the boat a few minutes later the Mexicans shouted in a chorus "Garrapatas! mucho malo!" at the same time pointing to our clothes, which were literally covered with small wood-ticks, about half the size of an ordinary pinhead.

Garra—pronounced gar-r-r-ra—means to hook or grab hold of, and patas means "feet," so I take it that this pestilential insect is so named because it grabs hold and holds tight with its feet. If this interpretation be correct, it is well named, because the manner in which it lays hold with its feet justifies its name, not to mention the tenacity with which it hangs on with its head. It is very difficult to remove one from the skin before it gets "set," and after fastening itself securely the operation of removing it is both irritating and painful. If it should ever need renaming some word should be found that signifies "grab hold and hang on with both head and feet."

They cling to the grass and leaves of bushes in small clusters after the manner of a swarm of bees, and the instant anything touches one of these clusters they let go all hold and drop off onto the object, and proceed at once to scatter in every direction; taking care, however, not to fall a second time. We had noticed a few bites, but paid no special attention to them, as we were becoming accustomed to being "bitten." Many of them had now reached the skin, however, and they claimed our particular attention for the remainder of the day. We inquired how best to get rid of them and were told that our clothes would have to be discarded. The loss of the clothes and the wood-ticks adhering to them was not a matter of such immediate consequence as those which had already found their way through the seams and openings and reached the skin. We were told that to bathe in kerosene or turpentine would remove them if done before they got firmly set, and that if they were not removed we would be inoculated with malaria and thrown into a violent fever, for being unacclimated, their bite would be poisonous to our systems. Of course there was not a drop of kerosene or turpentine aboard, so the direst consequences were inevitable. Our trip was fast becoming interesting, and with the cheering prospects of malarial fever and smallpox ahead, we began to wonder what was next! All interest in the progress of the journey was now entirely subverted, and, with the mosquitoes and garrapatas to play the accompaniment to other bodily woes and discomforts, sufficient entertainment was in store for the coming night.

After digging out our trunks and changing our clothes we thoughtlessly laid our cast-off garments on top of the cargo, with the result that in a short time the whole boat was infested with the little pests. Our one comforting hope was that they might torture the Mexicans, but this proved to be a delusive consolation, for we found that the natives were accustomed to their bites and paid but little attention to them. I refrain from detailing the events and miseries of the night following, because I wish to forget them. Not least among our annoyances was the evident relish with which the Mexicans regarded our discomforts during daylight, and the blissful serenity with which they slept through it all at night. As they lay there calmly asleep while we kept a weary vigil with the mosquitoes and ticks, I was strongly tempted to push one of them off into the water just to disturb his aggravating rest. They laughed uproariously at our actions and imprecations over the wood-ticks, but the next laugh was to be at their expense, as will be seen further along.

Next morning at sunrise (from sunrise to sunset is regarded by the Mexicans as the duration of a day's work) they began unloading the cargo and carrying it half a mile over the shoal. The strength and endurance of the men were remarkable, considering their meagre fare. Each man would carry from two to three hundred pounds on the back of his neck and shoulders the entire distance of half a mile without stopping to rest. By two o'clock in the afternoon the cargo was transferred and the boat dragged over the shoal. In this latter undertaking we all lent a hand. If any of our friends at home could have witnessed this scene in which we took an active part, with our trousers rolled up, wading in mud and water nearly up to our knees, they might well have wondered what Eldorado we were headed for. By the time the boatmen got the cargo reloaded it was time for supper, and they were too tired to continue the voyage that night.

We slept intermittently during the night, and fought mosquitoes between dozes. We started next morning about five o'clock. This was the beginning of the fourth day out and we had covered less than six miles. One of the men told us that on the last trip they took ten days in making the same distance. It began to look as though we would have to go on half rations in order to make our food supply last through the journey. We moved along the channel without interruption during the day, and late in the afternoon reached the point where the channel opened into a large lake several miles long. We camped that night by the lakeside,—the Mexicans having apparently forgotten their promise to pursue the journey at night. They slept on the bare ground, while we remained in the boat. A brisk breeze blew from the lake, so we had no mosquitoes to disturb the first peaceful night's sleep we had enjoyed since the smallpox scare.

During the night we made the acquaintance of another native pest, known as the "army-ant," a huge black variety measuring upwards of half an inch in length, the bite of which produces much the same sensation as the sting of a hornet or scorpion, though the pain is of shorter duration. The shock produced by the bite, even of a single one, is sudden and violent, and there is nothing that will cause a Mexican to disrobe with such involuntary promptness as the attack of one of these pestiferous insects. They move through the country at certain seasons in great bodies, covering the ground for a space of from fifty feet to a hundred yards wide, and perhaps double the length. If a house happens to stand in their way they will rid it completely of rats, mice, roaches, scorpions, and even the occupants. They invade every crevice from cellar to garret, and every insect, reptile and animal is compelled either to retreat or be destroyed. Nothing will cause a household to vacate a dwelling more suddenly at any time of the night or day, than the approach of the dreaded army-ant.

The boatmen were all asleep on the bank of the lake, while we, remaining aboard the boat, had finished our after-supper smoke and were preparing to retire. Suddenly our attention was attracted by a shout from the four Mexicans almost simultaneously, which echoing through the woods on the night air, produced the weirdest sound I had ever heard. It was a cry of sudden alarm and extreme pain. In an instant the four natives were on their feet, and their shirts were removed with almost the suddenness of a flash of lightning. They all headed for the boat and plunged headlong into the water. The army-ant being unknown to us, and not knowing