at he had collected for experiment, and handed them among
the midst of us.

Conceive our horror and consternation at this unnatural and appalling
proposal. Springing instantly to his feet, O'Gaygun demanded that the
Fiend be forthwith taken out and hung from the nearest tree. But the
Fiend saved his life by immediately withdrawing his proposition and his
bugs, humbly suing for mercy. It was then thought that our duty to
humanity would necessitate our sending the unhappy Fiend for
incarceration in the Whau Lunatic Asylum, where they were in want of
"subjects," as Old Colonial significantly remarked. That point is still
under debate. Meanwhile, the Fiend still lives, but is kept under strict
surveillance.

There is another of our insect enemies which must have special mention,
and that is the Maori blow-fly. We have flies of many sorts, house-flies
and blue-bottles among them. The latter, the blue-bottles, get very big,
and have an increased propensity for multiplying themselves, and that in
their usual unpleasant manner. But over all the blue-bottles'
old-fashioned systems the Maori blow-fly soars supreme. It is a
colonizer with a vengeance. It does not go to the trouble of laying
eggs or nits; it carries its family about ready hatched. The blow-fly is
always ready, at a moment's notice, to deposit an incredible number of
lively, hungry maggots upon any desirable surface.

The difficulty of keeping fresh or cooked meat, and various other
provisions, will be readily appreciated. The blow-fly will cause its
disagreeable offspring to take part in every meal. Maggots are showered
down on your very plate. A string of them may be deposited on the
mouthful on your fork. The blow-fly is not particular. If you have a
wound, cover it up, or the maggots will speedily be in it. The eyes of
cattle and sheep are often full of them. If blankets or clothes are hung
up to air in the sun, they will soon be white with living organisms;
though, for want of moisture, they cannot live more than a few minutes
in such a situation, luckily. There is little or nothing we can do
against these foes. We get used to them, and try to forget their
existence. We keep them out where possible. We salt our food, which they
do not like. But we are unable to keep them down, or fight with them.
Even argument with a blow-fly is inadmissible.

We have spiders as big as walnuts, with great hairy legs two or three
inches long. We would rather encourage them,