THE PAULO AFFONSO FALLS.
The principal falls of the São Francisco are called Paulo Alfonso, and are a two days’ trip up the river from its mouth, through tropical scenery. The average width of this river above the falls is two-thirds of a mile, and the volume of water is great, for it drains an immense territory. The rapids begin some distance above the falls proper. The whirling and churning water is dashed along on its way toward the final leap, where this immense volume of water is forced through a break in the precipitous banks, not more than fifty feet wide. The falls are slightly crescent shaped. As the main body of the water rushes, leaps and surges down the steep incline of the last rapids, it is hurled against a steep black wall with great momentum; broken into foam and spray, swishing, swirling and churning, it then rebounds only to be pushed over the abyss at a right angle to its original course. The waters then rush forward for a few hundred feet, only to be hurled back by another rock wall three hundred feet high, thus forming a whirlpool, from which it finally escapes and passes through a narrow gorge for several miles, from which it emerges in a little quieter mood. The total fall of the water is two hundred and seventy feet. The view from a height of nearly one hundred feet, as one looks down upon the final leap of one hundred and ninety feet, is awe-inspiring. There is not only a wonderful view of the falls from that point, but a bird’s-eye view of the rapids, and the roar of the falls and rapids is something terrific.
CHAPTER III
THE CITY OF BEAUTIFUL VIEWS
If the capital of Argentina deserves to be called the “City of Good Airs,” then the capital of Brazil should be termed Buenas Vistas, the “City of Beautiful Views.” Of all the cities in the world Rio de Janeiro best deserves to be called by that name. This is not my opinion alone, but it is the almost unanimous verdict of this most beautiful city. Everywhere that the eye falls, it is met with a view that is a worthy subject for the artist’s brush. The camera fiend is kept busy “pressing the button,” for at almost every turn there is the temptation to expose the sensitive plate which will reproduce the scene that so appeals to the eye. But, although the plate or film faithfully reproduces the outline and detail of the scene, the blue of the sky and the waters of the bay, the green of the palms, and the other trees, the colours of the flowers which are omnipresent, and the bright and varied tints of the houses are sadly missing in the resulting photograph. All of these are absolutely necessary to complete the picture, which lingers in the memory of one who has visited this second city of South America.
When the early navigators sailed up the island-studded bay, which leads to the present site of the capital of Brazil, they thought it must surely be the mouth of a broad river, and, as it was in the month of January, they named it, for want of a better name, Rio de Janeiro, the River of January, and the name has clung to the bay and settlement, which has grown into a thriving city, during the succeeding four centuries. No one, however, since that time has been able to discover the supposed river which led to the name. So this city of lovely views and of romantic history bears, and has always borne, a name which is a misnomer, but this fact has not affected either the beauty of the scene or the development of the city. It is simply another illustration of the saying that there is little in a name, and a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet. The inhabitant of the city is even called a “flumenense,” from the word meaning a river.
The full name of Brazil’s capital is San Sebastian de Rio de Janeiro, and its foundation dates back to the year 1566, when a landing was effected here by a few colonists near the famous Sugar Loaf mountain. A citadel was built on a hill now called Morro do Castillo. Near this was next erected a church called San Sebastian, in honour of the city’s patron saint, which ancient structure is still standing as one of the few memorials of the remote past, and within its walls rest the remains of the city’s founder, Estacio de Sá. There are still a few other relics of these earlier days, but most of them have been greatly altered, and many of them practically rebuilt.
For a couple of centuries Brazil was the seat of Portuguese power in the new world, and it was the centre of many political struggles during the capitancias. It pulsated with that excitement that can only be found in Latin cities, and many a plot and counterplot has been batched within its environs. For a while, during Napoleon’s occupancy of the throne, it was the seat of government, for the royal family of Portugal fled to these hospitable shores, and all the wealth, pomp, splendour and gayety of a powerful and extravagant court was transferred to this city. This lasted only for a short time, for Napoleon was overthrown, and the royal family returned to the mother land. Political discontent in Brazil soon led to the establishment of an independent empire, with the son of the reigning monarch of Portugal as the ruler of the new nation.
Rio, for nearly every one uses the short appellation, has seen many changes. Starting as a small settlement of adventurers, it became successively the capital of a capitancia, a province, a kingdom, an empire and a republic. All of the latter changes have taken place within the last century. And yet, among all those changes, from the extreme of capitancia to republic, there has been none which so completely affected the appearance, and perhaps final destiny of the city, as the metamorphosis which has taken place during the past half dozen years. The visitor to the Rio of a decade ago, with its antiquated streets, old-fashioned architecture and foul-smelling open-sewered public thoroughfares, which more nearly resembled alleys than streets, would scarcely recognize the new capital of broad avenues, clean, well-swept pavements and the beautiful boulevard which follows the sweep of the bay for many miles.