Round Cape Horn

iro-We cast Anchor-Going Ashore-Rambles in the City-Fountains-Markets-Parrots-Hammer-head

d 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

t 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 impe

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 forti

y the North America, a large ship from New York bound for California with nearly five hundr

, each of whom was dispatched with a very few words. Captain Jackson then took a boat manned by

nd slaves, all clamorous for passengers. They were unanimous in asking twenty-five cents for a passage

ameter, half or three-quarters of an inch thick, and about two feet long. They are unglazed, and burnt as hard as our pottery. They are supported by a rough frame-work of poles, and laid in two courses, the under course forming gutters to carry off the rain, which is turned into them by the upper course, each upper tile being turned over the edges of two of th

I soon found myself separated from my companions and proceeded alone. I crossed a large square, in which stood a stone fountain built in the form of a temple, from whose s

ription, nor a berry of any sort. There were no dead meats to be found in this market. Beef was sold in another part of the city. Live pigs had their appropriate stalls, and chickens, turkeys, and several varieties of ducks and of doves, besides many singing birds, were kept in coarse cages or chained by the leg. Parrots were abundant, and there was a large and exceedingly beautiful bird, whose name I did not know; but I was rather desirous of buying one for the purpose of preserving the skin. I asked the price. It was thirty milreas-about sixteen or seventeen dollars. I did not purchase. There was a great variety of fish, some very beautiful, and others the most disgusting specimens I ev

, only one of which I knew, a wren, though of a different species from any of ours, and smaller, but possessing the same lively, restless, noisy characteristics. A long shaded walk led to the hotel. I had not sat there long when I saw a company of my fellow-passengers approaching. They had just left the hotel, but giving me a gentle hint to treat them, they returned to the house, and I followed. We entered at the rear of the house and we passed through to the front, which afforded a splendid view of the harbor. A little garden on the very verge of the steep hill was filled

t forty feet high terminating in a sharp point; and from the sides of the pedestals streams of water issued into the basins or ponds. A broad walk passes between these fountains, at the extremity of which is an ornamented stone basin elevated several feet above the ground. From the end of this basin rises a mound of rough stones piled up against a very handsome wall, and covered with a variety of cactuses and other plants. At the foot of the mound two enormous alligators lie entwined, from whose gaping mouths, streams of water flow int

at and made my memoranda. I returned to the landing by different streets from those through which I came, seeing many new things-every thing I have seen here is n