e Hudson Bay
Company Post which stood at the confluence of the Buffalo and Red
Rivers. Food and fresh horses were all we required, and after these
requisites had been obtained the journey was prosecuted with renewed
vigour. Forty miles had yet to be traversed before the point at which
the Steamboat lay could be reached, and for that distance the track ran
on the left or Dakota side of the Red River. As we journeyed along the
Dakota prairies the last hour of daylight overtook us, bringing with it
a Scene of magical beauty. The sun resting on the rim of the prairie
cast over the vast expanse of grass a flood of light. On the east lay
the darker green of the trees of the Red River. The whole western sky
was full of wild-looking thunder-clouds, through which the rays of
sunlight shot upward in great trembling shafts of glory. Being on
horseback and alone, for my companion had trotted on in his waggon, I
had time to watch and note this brilliant spectacle; but as soon as the
sun had dipped beneath the sea of verdure an ominous sound caused me
to gallop on with increasing haste. The pony seemed to know the
significance of that sound much better than its rider. He no longer
lagged, nor needed the spur or whip to urge him to faster exertion, for
darker and denser than on the previous night there rose around us vast
numbers of mosquitoes--choking masses of biting insects, no mere cloud
thicker and denser in one place than in another, but one huge wall of
never-ending insects filling nostrils, ears, and eyes. Where they came
from I cannot tell; the prairie seemed too small to hold them; the air
too limited to yield them space. I had seen many vast accumulations of
insect life in lands old and new, but never any thing that approached to
this mountain of mosquitoes on the prairies of Dakota. To say that they
covered the coat of the horse I rode would be to give but a faint idea
of their numbers; they were literally six or eight deep upon his skin,
and with a single sweep of the hand one could crush myriads from his
neck. Their hum seemed to be in all things around. To ride for it was
the sole resource. Darkness came quickly down, but the track knew no
turn, and for seven miles I kept the pony at a gallop; my face, neck,
and hands cut and bleeding.

At last in the gloom I saw, down in what appeared to be the bottom of a
valley, a long white wooden building, with lights showing out through
the windows. Riding quickly down this valley