I asked an old filibuster who lay near me, how
he could sleep through it. "Oh," said he, "I've got my skin dirty and
callous, and this easy-walking species, that can't bite, never troubles
me." On this subject I read the following in Mr. Irving's "History
of Columbus" with some emotion:--"Nor is the least beautiful part of
animated nature [in those tropical regions] the various tribes of
insects that people every plant, displaying brilliant coats-of-mail,
which sparkle to the eye like precious gems." It seems strange to me
that any good should be recognized in these children of despair, which
have caused me more unhappiness than all the world's vermin beside.
I think this praise must be from Mr. Irving himself, looking up the
picturesque. It is not possible that Columbus would have had the heart
to flatter and polish up these mailed insects, who, in his day, ate him,
turned him over and over, and harried him more than ever was Job by
Satan.
Next morning, whilst we were roasting green plantains in
the fire for breakfast, a man dressed in General Walker's
blue-shirt-and-cotton-breeches uniform came upon us suddenly
from out of the woods beyond the stream.
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