The river begins to rise the last of May, and continues till September. At the height of its flood in Lower Egypt, nothing is to be seen in the plains but the tops of forest and fruit trees; the towns and villages being for that reason built upon eminences, either natural or artificial. When the river is at its proper height, the inhabitants celebrate a kind of jubilee with great festivity. The banks or mounds which confine it, are cut by the Turkish Pasha, attended by his grandees; and after this ceremony, the water is led into what they call the khalix, or grand canal, which runs through Cairo, whence it is distributed into cuts for supplying the fields and gardens. The irrigation is effected by machinery. This being done, and the waters beginning to retire, such is the fertility of the soil that the labor of the husbandman is next to nothing. Nothing can be more charming than the prospect which the face of the country presents in rising corn, vegetables and verdure of every sort. Oranges and lemons perfume the air; dates, grapes, and figs cheer the eye; and palm trees which afford the means of making wine, are blooming and abundant. March and April are the harvest months, and they produce three crops, one of lettuces and cucumbers, (the latter being the ordinary food of the inhabitants,) one of corn, and one of melons.
CHAPTER XVI.
Sail for London. Arrive at the Downs. Sail for St. Johns. A dense fog. Bay of Fundy. Come to anchor at St. Johns. Proceed to London. Sail for the East Indies. Study Navigation. Arrive at St. Helena. Tomb of Napoleon. Reach Cape Town. Description of the Country. Of the several Tribes. Arrive at Calcutta. Description of the Ganges, and its Religious Rites. Of Calcutta. Sail for Canton. Tiger Island. Straits of Malacca. Preparations for Pirates. Arrive at Canton. Its description. Chinese Floating Town. Manners and Customs. Fourth of July. Sail for England. Misconduct of the Mate. His discharge. Arrival at London.
The last of July we weighed anchor, and spread our sails bound for London. Nothing worthy of note occurred on the passage to Gibralter, at which place we stopped. Sent a boat ashore for fresh provisions, and soon it came back richly laden with fruits, and a quantity of wine for the use of the seamen. We were allowed three glasses of wine per day, and on Saturday night one bottle was allowed each four men. Bracing full, we were soon through the gut of Gibralter, homeward bound; and in a few days were in the chops of the channel of Old England. Had fine weather, though a head wind to contend with. While we were thus detained by adverse winds, we were employed in cleaning the ship. We lay thus several days when the wind veered around in our favor. Our sky-sails, and studding-sails were set alow and aloft; and in forty-eight hours we came to anchor at the Downs. This is the sea between the shore and the Goodwin Sands, which furnishes a large and usually safe anchorage for vessels, where they ride at their leaving or entering the Thames. Here were seventy or eighty ships laying at anchor, all flying the British colors. We lay here three days, when we were taken in tow to Graves End, and the next tide took us up abreast the London docks, where we anchored and awaited the next tide, when we docked the ship. This was near the last of September, 1839. We spent a few days visiting various places of interest, (which I shall notice when I speak of London.) At the expiration of which time I shipped on board the Cornet, Captain Tabor, bound to St. Johns, which is the principal town in New Brunswick; and is situated at the mouth of the St. Johns river, which is navigable for vessels of fifty tons, for nearly fifty miles, and is a place of extensive trade.
As they were nearly in readiness, we soon left and proceeded down the channel. Nothing worthy of particular notice occurred until we reached the Newfoundland Banks, which place is almost constantly thronged with vast numbers of fishing smacks. Here we encountered a fog so dense, that scarcely could we see from one side of the ship to the other. We shortened sail, keeping the bell almost constantly ringing. We lay in this position several days, when an east wind broke the fog, so that we were enabled to get into fair sailing. It is not unfrequently that vessels with a press of sail run down some small fisherman, and nothing more is heard of them. After a few days of fair sailing we made Cape Sable, off our starboard bow. This was a sight long wished for, as is always the case with seamen when bound to any particular port. We hauled our wind and stood up the bay, making the land a few miles below Eastport. Ran up the Bay of Fundy with a delightful wind.
The Bay of Fundy is a considerable arm of the sea, extending into the British Provinces, about two hundred miles. At its entrance from the sea, it is about twelve degrees wide, gradually decreasing as it proceeds inland. It is remarkable for its tides, which in consequence of the abundance of its water between the shores is swelled from the height of from forty to sixty feet. So rapid are its flood tides, that small vessels are overturned, and small animals overtaken and devoured. At the ebb, small coasting vessels are often left upon the flats; care being taken so that the heavy swell, called the bore, as it strikes them, will beat against them at either the head or stern. We took on board a pilot, who in a few hours brought us to anchor safely at St. Johns. Our vessel was pulled up for repairs, and all hands paid off except myself.
During my stay I became acquainted with a girl of Irish descent, whom I married; I procured me a house and necessary stores, and was in a way to live.
The first of December I shipped on board the Coronation, bound for London, with a cargo of timber. On our arrival orders were given to fit ship and proceed to the East Indies. Accordingly the ship was put in readiness, and about the last of January, 1840, we left London, bound for Calcutta, and this I think about the finest voyage that I ever made. We had been out but a few days when we took the trade winds, and ran forty days without scarcely touching brace or halyards. Having watch and watch, the captain told those who had a mind to spend their watch below and study navigation, he would with the greatest pleasure assist. Five of us gladly availed ourselves of this opportunity, and daily we spent our allotted time in study. At the expiration of a few weeks we had made such progress under our accomplished teacher, that each of us could work a day's work tolerable well. We ran down close to St. Helena, and anchored for the purpose of making a short visit to this memorable place, a brief description of which may interest my readers. This celebrated island is in the Atlantic ocean, 1,200 miles distant from any land; the nearest being the coast of South Africa. It is about ten miles long, and six broad, and is as a general thing, a barren waste. It presents the appearance to the approacher, of nothing but an immense wall of perpendicular rock, extremely abrupt at its northern extremity, but more shelving towards the south; varying in height from 600 to 1,200 feet. There are only four openings in the great wall of rock, which surrounds St. Helena, by which it can be approached with any facility, and these are all strongly fortified. This island has become celebrated by being the place to which the allied sovereigns of Europe banished Napoleon, in 1815, where he remained till his death, in 1821. His tomb is in a secluded recess, and is surrounded by a fence, enclosing a piece of ground containing weeping willows. The island is owned by the English East India Company.