I spent yesterday morning in going over the same ground with Captain McIntosh, who had not previously been on shore. We extended our walk across two or three additional ridges of the hills, which feather down from the mountains to the water, and break up the shore, by their projecting points, into numerous little coves encircled by interval lands and bright glades. In these chiefly are nestled the humble cottages of the poor, in single dwellings or in hamlets of three and four. The views from the side-hills above are varied and beautiful, and ever bring with them to me strong associations of the South Seas.
In the afternoon, accompanied by Dr. C—— and one or two others, I took a walk northward from the consulate, first across a natural meadow running inland a half-mile from the beach, and afterwards, by a mule-path, over a steep and thickly-wooded hill of the primitive growth—the whole mountain of which this is a spur, densely covered with wood, presenting in many points masses of foliage of great richness and beauty. Our walk terminated at a clearing, where preparations were making for the erection of a shanty of small timber, wattled at the sides and ends, preparatory to being filled in with clay. The scene reminded me of parts of Otsego near Cooperstown in my boyhood, where the felling, and logging, and burning of trees by the first settlers were in progress. The timber here, however, is by no means so tall and heavy as the white pine and old hemlock of that region, and appears to be exclusively of hard wood. We saw, at too great a distance to admit of examination, two flowering trees with blossoms of most brilliant hues; and were afterwards shown at the consulate a branch of an azalia, loaded with flowers of the purest white variegated with bright cherry color.
I must not omit to mention the very unexpected recognition of each other, by Captain Cathcart and myself yesterday. After taking leave of him the evening before, I said to Dr. C——, “The oftener I see the Consul, the more I am persuaded I have met him before: it must have been at the Sandwich Islands.” A similar impression it seems was on his mind; and he remarked to a party of officers, as the boat in which I was, shoved off, “I am sure I have known Mr. S—— somewhere; but I have not been out of Brazil for twenty years—it must have been when I was whaling.” To this, one replied, “it may have been at the Sandwich Islands, when Mr. S—— was a missionary there.” “A missionary! is it possible that this Mr. S—— is the same: now, I know all about him. I remember him well; the first time I was on shore he invited me to church, and though I was an entire stranger to him, only a boat-steerer, he took me afterwards to dine with him and his lady.” This being repeated to me, gave identity to my own reminiscence, and led to a very cordial greeting the next morning as old friends.
My last walk, in this short visit of a week, was taken this afternoon, in company with Commodore McKeever and Dr. C——. It was on the island. We landed at one end of a long curving beach, beneath the rocky bluff which is surmounted by the dilapidated fortress of San José, now dismantled and abandoned. After enjoying the view from its parapets, we followed a path leading up the ridge of the hill, till we gained a lofty point of rock, commanding a wide stretch of country to the eastward not in view from the ship. A part of this, embracing a circuit of many miles, was level. It appeared to be well fitted for the culture of rice, much of which is grown in St. Catherine, but apparently is unredeemed; a vast jungle in a state of nature, without indication of an inhabitant. The evening was very fine, and the air so exhilarating, that we skipped and jumped from rock to rock, amidst bush and bramble, with a freedom we would not have ventured had we known what we afterwards learnt, that the spot is noted for the venomous reptiles with which it abounds. Of these we saw none, however, and indulged in our gymnastics without fear. Indeed, I have not seen a living serpent or reptile of any kind since I have been in Brazil: not a scorpion, and but one centipede, and that in a ship-chandler’s in Rio de Janeiro. On our return we passed, near the beach, grove after grove of orange trees, so laden with fruit that the ground beneath was covered, as in an apple-orchard at home, after the trees have been shaken in the gathering season.
CHAPTER XIX.
Rio de Janeiro.
June 20th.—On entering this port on the 16th inst., we all felt anew the exciting influence of its wild and magnificent scenery, and were constrained again to pronounce it unrivalled, by any thing seen by us in any part of the world.
The last report of the health of the place which had reached us at Montevideo, was favorable. The yellow fever, after having prevailed a second season as an epidemic, was said to have disappeared. Our apprehensions on this point were excited for a time, however, as we came in, by perceiving the man-of-war anchorage to be entirely deserted. In place of three or four different squadrons, English, French, Brazilian, Portuguese and American, riding at their moorings, like a flock of water-fowl, not a solitary ship was discoverable: nor was there a sign of movement of any kind, on the whole bay. This we thought ominous of bad news, but happily without just cause. The first boat from the shore, assured us of the good health of the port. Whatever malaria may exist has lost its malignancy, and exhibits itself only in cases of imprudence and special exposure, in the milder types of intermittent fever. It is the winter season, or period at which the sun has reached its farthest remove in this latitude, and all nature is in double freshness and brilliancy. The coloring of the skies in the mornings and evenings is beautiful: this is especially the case after sunset, when at times a golden and vermilion glory has filled the west with a splendor I do not recollect to have seen surpassed. The effect of this upon the pinnacled rocks and precipices of the mountains—brought into bold relief by the shades of the hour—and upon the promontories and islets of the bay, the church and convent towers, and the leading architecture of the city, is gorgeous. This was particularly the case, an evening or two ago, while Dr. C—— and I were enjoying a stroll over Gloria Hill. Our progress was arrested by it: and after standing for some time in silent admiration of the picture presented, from the elevated terraces in front of the church, we joined in the exclamation, “no words in our own or any other language can describe such a scene: painting itself could do no justice to it!”
The temperature now, even at mid-day, is not too hot for exercise, the mean height of the thermometer being 73° Fahrenheit. The weather resembles that of the finest in June at home; the evenings and nights, however, are cooler. This is the general character of the weather from March to September; and nothing in climate can be finer. During the rest of the year, the heat, with the mercury at mid-day at 90°, is oppressive and debilitating.