"Slap!" A drowsy man rolled on his side, cursing uncomfortably. "Whack!" Another big mosquito escaped, purring out of hearing only to return like a seaplane disappointed over its landing place. Hordes of his fellows bumbled through the night, making it hideous for the otherwise hardy companions of explorer Donald B. MacMillan sleeping aboard the S. S. Bowdoin at anchor in Hopedale harbor, Labrador. Some of the men, their epidermis punctured beyond endurance, clambered to the crows'-nest in vain search of relief.
By day the men of the Bowdoin slaved over their vessel's propeller,...
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