CHAPTER LVI.
MOSQUITOES THE NIGHT following the hunting trip, Long Ghost and myself, after a valiant defence, had to fly the house on account of the mosquitoes.
And here I cannot avoid relating a story, rife among the natives, concerning the manner in which these insects were introduced upon the island.
Some years previous, a whaling captain, touching at an adjoining bay, got into difficulty with its inhabitants, and at last carried his complaint before one of the native tribunals; but receiving no satisfaction, and deeming himself aggrieved, he resolved upon taking signal revenge.

One night, he towed a rotten old water-cask ashore, and left it in a neglected Taro patch where the ground was warm and moist.

Hence the mosquitoes.
I tried my best to learn the name of this man; and hereby do what I can to hand it down to posterity.

It was Coleman--Nathan Cole-man.
The ship belonged to Nantucket.
When tormented by the mosquitoes, I found much relief in coupling the word "Coleman" with another of one syllable, and pronouncing them together energetically.
The doctor suggested a walk to the beach, where there was a long, low shed tumbling to pieces, but open lengthwise to a current of air which he thought might keep off the mosquitoes.

So thither we went.
The ruin partially sheltered a relic of times gone by, which, a few days after, we examined with much curiosity.