And that relieved him and released him, just as another man might escape by whiskey or by playing bottle-pool, and on the sixteenth of August he decided to begin his work all over, to start, in short, where he had begun in 1895--“only much more thoroughly this time.” So he stripped his malaria patient--it was the famous Husein Khan. Under the mosquito net went Husein, for Ronald Ross had found a new kind of mosquito with which to plague this Husein Khan, and in his unscientific classification Ross called this mosquito, simply, a brown mosquito. (For the purposes of historical accuracy, and to be fair to Battista Grassi, I must state that it is not clear where these brown mosquitoes came from. In the early part of his report Ronald Ross says he raised them from the grubs--but a moment later, speaking of a closely related mosquito, he says: “I have failed in finding their grubs also.”) It is no wonder--though lamentable for the purposes of history--that Ronald Ross was mixed up, considering his lone-wolf work and that hot wind and his perpetual failures! Anyway, he took those brown mosquitoes (which may have bitten other beasts, who knows) and loosed them out of their bottles under the net. They sucked the blood of Husein Khan, at a few cents per suck per mosquito, and then once more, one day after another, Ross peeped at the stomachs of those insects. On the nineteenth of August he had only three of the brown beasts left. He cut one of them up. Hopelessly he began to look at the walls of its stomach, with its pretty, regular cells arranged like stones in a paved road. Mechanically he peered down the tube of his microscope, when suddenly something queer forced itself up into the front of his attention. What was this? In the midst of the even pavement of the cells of the stomach wall lay a funny circular thing, about a twenty-five-hundredth of an inch its diameter was--here was another! But, curse it! It was hot--he stopped looking.... The next day it was the same. Here, in the wall of the stomach of the next to the last mosquito, four days after it had sucked the blood of the unhappy malarious Husein Khan, here were those same circular outlines--clear--much more distinct than the outlines of the cells of the stomach, and in each one of these circles was “a cluster of small granules, black as jet!” Here was another of those fantastic things, and another--he counted twelve in all. He yawned. It was hot. That black pigment looked a lot like the black pigment inside of malaria microbes in the blood of human bodies--but it was hot. Ross yawned, and went home for a nap. [Illustration: (line drawing of cells with small black granules)]