ed with eels or batrachians. It is, however, a true amphibian,
respiring either in the water by means of branchiae, or in the air by
means of lungs. It approaches, in the structure of its head, to the
salamanders, though much less so in its general form and proportions.

The curious "axolotl," which we shall meet with in Mexico, belongs to a
closely allied genus.

GRASSHOPPERS, OR LOCUSTS.

When travelling across the prairies, we may, at times, when gazing
upwards at the sky, see what appears to be a vast cloud approaching from
the horizon. It is produced by infinite swarms of locusts, or
grasshoppers, as they are called in North America. [From Professor
Hind's "Red River Exploring Expedition."] About noon they appear to
lessen perceptibly the rays of the sun. The whole horizon wears an
unearthly ashy hue, from the light reflected by their transparent wings.
The air is filled as with flakes of snow. The clouds of insects,
forming a dense body, cast a glimmering, silvery light from altitudes
varying from 500 to 1000 feet. The sky, as near the sun as its light
will allow us to gaze, appears continually changing colour, from blue to
silvery white, ashy grey, and lead colour, according to the numbers in
the passing clouds of insects. Opposite to the sun, the prevailing hue
is a silvery white, perceptibly flashing. Now, towards the south, east,
and west, it appears to radiate a soft, grey-tinted light, with a
quivering motion. Should the day be calm, the hum produced by the
vibration of so many millions of wings is quite indescribable, and more
resembles the noise popularly termed "a ringing in one's ears," than any
other sound. The aspect of the heavens during the period that the
greatest flight is passing by is singularly striking. It produces a
feeling of uneasiness, amazement, and awe, as if some terrible
unforeseen calamity were about to happen.

When the grasshoppers are resting from their long journeys, or in the
morning when feeding on the grass and leaves, they rise in clouds as we
march through the prairie; and when the wind blows, they become very
troublesome, flying with force against our faces, and into the nostrils
and eyes of the horses, filling every crevice in the carts.
Fortunately, comparatively few take flight on a windy day, otherwise it
would be impossible to make headway against such an infinite host in
rapid motion before the wind, although composed individually of such
insignificant