"By Jove!" cried Frank; "the person who lives here is prepared to protect himself against mosquitoes and black flies."
"It would be impossible to live here in the summer," gravely declared Professor Scotch, forgetting his own misery for the moment. "The pests would drive a man crazy."
"Oh, I don't know about that," returned Frank. "If a man knew how to defend himself against them he might get along all right. They can't be worse than the mosquitoes of Alaska in the warm months. Up there the Indians get along all right, even though mosquitoes have been known to kill a bear."
"Pwhat's thot?" gurgled Barney. "Kill a bear? Oh, Frankie, me b'y, Oi nivver thought that av you!"
"It's true," affirmed Professor Scotch. "Sometimes bears, lured by hunger, will come down into the lowlands, where mosquitoes will attack them. They will stand up on their hind legs and strike at the little pests with their forward paws. Sometimes a bear will do this till he is exhausted and falls. Then the mosquitoes finish him."
"Thot's a harrud yarn to belave, profissor; but it goes av you soay so," said Barney, thinking it best to smooth over the late unpleasantness.
"Up there," said Frank, "the Indians smear their faces and hands with some kind of sticky stuff that keeps the mosquitoes from reaching their flesh. In that way they get along very well."
But they had something to talk about besides the Indians of Alaska, for the surprises around them furnished topics for conversation.
Exploring the place, they found it well stocked with provisions, which caused them all to feel delighted.
"I'm actually glad we came!" laughed Frank. "This is fun galore."