1 The flies buzzed in a great peace.
2 They must have been dying like flies here.
3 The other shoe went flying unto the devil-god of that river.
4 It was hot there too; big flies buzzed fiendishly, and did not sting, but stabbed.
5 We tore slowly along the overhanging bushes in a whirl of broken twigs and flying leaves.
6 A continuous shower of small flies streamed upon the lamp, upon the cloth, upon our hands and faces.
7 They broke and ran, they leaped, they crouched, they swerved, they dodged the flying terror of the sound.
8 Here and there grayish-whitish specks showed up, clustered inside the white surf, with a flag flying above them perhaps.
9 Some fifty miles below the Inner Station we came upon a hut of reeds, an inclined and melancholy pole, with the unrecognizable tatters of what had been a flag of some sort flying from it, and a neatly stacked woodpile.
10 In the steady buzz of flies the homeward-bound agent was lying flushed and insensible; the other, bent over his books, was making correct entries of perfectly correct transactions; and fifty feet below the doorstep I could see the still tree-tops of the grove of death.