[CHAPTER III.]
A Mistake Discovered and Corrected—Ill Health—Scenery of the Coast and Harbor of Rio Janeiro—We cast Anchor—Going Ashore—Rambles in the City—Fountains—Markets—Parrots—Hammer-headed Sharks—Monkeys—Slaves—Tropical Trees—Visit to a Hotel—English Gentlemen—Public Gardens.
One o'clock P.M. We had just settled down into a sullen resignation to our fate, and some of the passengers had been trying to amuse themselves by making unsuccessful shots at the large sea birds that were flying around us, when a discovery was made which caused great excitement among us, and raised our spirits to a high degree. We had floated along several hours at a short distance from the coast, when one of the passengers who had been in Rio saw that we were now off the entrance to the harbor, and that the captain was wrong in the morning. Captain J., who was in his berth, was called immediately, and acknowledged his mistake. He then engaged again to go in on the conditions previously stipulated. So the ship is turned towards the harbor, where we shall probably arrive in the evening. The money has been collected and paid over. I cannot, however, but feel very anxious as to the event. My health has been seriously declining for several weeks, and my fellow-passengers have more than once discussed the probability of my becoming food for the fishes before the ship arrives at the end of her long voyage. I feel that I must have a short respite on shore or die. But I will not croak about it. We shall know the worst to-morrow. Let me go out and enjoy the splendid scenery that lies before us.
And such scenery! I am gazing upon it with sensations as indescribable as the scenery itself. Never before have I so felt the utter impotency of language. I might say it is beautiful, grand, magnificent, rich beyond any thing I ever saw or imagined. I might lavish upon it every epithet which my delighted senses could suggest, but no words that I can command can, by any possibility, convey the least idea of the strangely enchanting beauty of the harbor we are entering. I have seated myself upon the bowsprit, and as we sail slowly in impelled by a gentle breeze, I have ample opportunity to feast my eyes on the beautiful scene. Let me give you a short prosaic account of it. If I fail to convey to the reader the impression which the scene makes on me, I may at least fix it the more indelibly on my own mind.
An ocean of hills and mountains presents itself on either side of the bay. Here at the entrance on the left, rises an immense rock in the form of a sugar-loaf, to the height, perhaps, of six hundred or eight hundred feet. Beyond, in close proximity, are a hundred other hills, many of them conical, some running up into sharp pinnacles, some nearly bare of vegetation, and others less steep covered to their summits with a dense foliage. And there is one towering above the rest, presenting to the view a black and perpendicular front, and a pinnacle scarcely larger than the spire of a church. The opposite side of the harbor presents nearly the same characteristic scenery, sharp, conical hills and rocks rising abruptly from the bay, succeeded by other hills thickly planted behind and beyond them. The shores of the bay are formed into many broad, circular indentations, fringed with beaches of fine white sand. A large fort mounting a hundred guns, and commanding the entrance to the harbor, stands on a projecting rock overlooked by a mountain from the summit of which—though I know nothing of the science of fortifications—I fancy that a small battery might be planted that would quickly demolish it. A smaller fort or battery stands opposite on a small island near the sugar-loaf. Other forts defend the inner portions of the harbor. Many fine buildings stand upon the left shore at the foot of the hills, and form almost a continuous street for several miles to the city. Far in the distance, and but dimly descried, are the Brazilian Mountains. Though greatly superior in height to the hills on the coast, the same peculiarities of cones and pinnacles characterize them.
We passed the fort, and dropped anchor at a distance of two miles from the city. Near us lay the North America, a large ship from New York bound for California with nearly five hundred passengers. They gave us twice three hearty cheers, which we answered in the usual manner.
Immediately on coming to anchor, we were visited by a health officer and a custom-house officer, each of whom was dispatched with a very few words. Captain Jackson then took a boat manned by two sailors, and went ashore, and we made every preparation for an early visit in the morning.