For us, who, during two months and a half, had seen nothing but sky and water, all these things were most satisfactory; and we looked out anxiously for Cape Frio, which we were very near.  The horizon, however, was lowering and hazy, and the sun had not force enough to tear the murky veil asunder.  We looked forward with joy to the next morning, but during the night were overtaken by another storm, which lasted until 2 o’clock.  The ship’s course was changed, and she was driven as far as possible into the open sea; so that, in the end, we were glad enough to reach, the next day, the same position we had occupied the morning before.

Today we caught no glimpse of land; but a few gulls and albatrosses from Cape Frio warned us that we were near it, and afforded us some little amusement.  They swam close up to the ship’s side, and eagerly swallowed every morsel of bread or meat that was thrown to them.  The sailors tried to catch some with a hook and line, and were fortunate enough to succeed.  They were placed upon the deck, and, to my great surprise, I perceived that they were unable to raise themselves from it.  If we touched them, they merely dragged themselves, with great difficulty, a few paces further, although they could rise very easily from the surface of the water, and fly extremely high.

One of the gentlemen was exceedingly anxious to kill and stuff one of them, but the superstition of the sailors was opposed to this.  They said that if birds were killed on board ship, their death would be followed by long calms.  We yielded to their wishes and restored the little creatures to the air and waves, their native elements.

This was another proof that superstition is still deep-rooted in the minds of sailors.  Of this we had afterwards many other instances.  The captain, for example, was always very averse to the passengers amusing themselves with cards or any other game of chance; in another vessel, as I was informed, no one was allowed to write on Sunday, etc.  Empty casks or logs of wood were also very frequently thrown overboard during a calm—­probably as sacrifices to the deities of the winds.

On the morning of the 16th of September we at last had the good fortune to perceive the mountains before Rio Janeiro, and soon singled out the Sugarloaf.  At 2 o’clock, P.M., we entered the bay and port of Rio Janeiro.

Immediately at the entrance of the bay are several conical rocks, some of which, like the Sugarloaf, rise singly from the sea, while others are joined at the base, and are almost inaccessible. {13} Between these “ocean mountains,” if I may be allowed the expression, are seen the most remarkably beautiful views; now extraordinary ravines, then some charmingly situated quarter of the town, presently the open sea, and the moment after some delightful bay.  From the bay itself, at the end of which the capital is built, rise masses of rock, serving as foundations to different fortifications.  On some of these eminences are chapels and fortresses.  Ships are obliged to pass as near as possible to one of the largest of the latter, namely, Santa Cruz, in order that their papers may be examined.