We had agreed to erect the observatory about half a mile from the station, on a rising part of the prairie; carpenters were engaged, and an arrangement made with a lumber merchant, who would supply what I wanted and take it back when I had done with it, only charging us for the damage done to the stuff. Early on Monday morning, the instruments were carted out and unpacked; and at sunset the four walls of the observatory were up. Now, as we thought it not advisable to leave all these things open on the prairie, it was agreed that some one should sleep there--and, of course, it was my duty to remain. They sent down a mattrass, pillow, and blanket; there was no wood to build a large fire outside, but I collected some chips, and lit a small fire inside, and placed my mattrass alongside. A little after sunset a musquito looked over the wall, and then sounded the assembly; on they came, and I with my head in the smoke kept blowing the fire, putting on wet grass to make a smoke; but, after half an hour at this work, I found out the fact that man was not intended for a pair of bellows, and although I assisted the action by compressing my sides with my hands, still at the end of the half hour that I blew I found that I was blown. When once my head was out of the smoke, the musquitoes flew at me; I stood up to fight them, but in so doing I had to fight myself also. Now an army was drawn up in contiguous columns on my cheeks, the skirmishers advancing through my eye-brows; at their first volley I felt as if I was struck with a hackle. I really think that they work their stings like the needle of a sewing machine. Maddened, I struck myself a fearful blow with both hands in the face, and had the satisfaction of making them "leave that," and so I fought myself and the musquitoes for some time: still they attacked me with an impetuosity truly marvellous, and where one fell two took his place. I was getting weak; a storming party had now taken possession of my right ear; I clenched my fist, and with a swinging blow, cleared the ear, but knocked myself down. Exhausted and worn out, I put my hands into my pockets, and gave them my head. In that half-dreamy state, the long, long hours were passed; and after they had breakfasted, dined and supped, they began to discuss me. "Ah," said one, "if you want a good drink, strike between the corner of the eye and the nose." "No, no," said a large party; "if you want a draught of good sparkling astronomer, sink your pump in his temple." "You are wrong," said a dissipated old fellow with frayed wings; "just creep up his cuff, and harpoon his wrist, and there you will drink until you lift yourself off your legs." Then they sung the following SONG. "The blood of the Indian is dark and flat, And that of the buffalo hard to come at But the blood of the astronomer is clear and bright: We will dance and we'll drink the live-long night.