CHAPTER V 



A DAY IN BAHIA 



" Yon deep bark goes 



Where traffic blows, 

 From lands of sun to lands of snows; 



This happier one 



Its course is run 

 From lands of snow to lands of sun." 



T. Buchanan Read. 



ON the morning of September 4th, after having 

 been at sea for fourteen days, we found ourselves 

 approaching the broad harbor of Bahia. A long low 

 point of land, at its extremity a tall lighthouse, jutted 

 out into the sea on the northern side of the entrance. 

 Over this we got a glimpse of the roofs and towers of 

 the city. On the far-off southern side of the harbor 

 were ranges of verdurous hills, which gleamed brightly 

 in the sunrise. Rounding the point upon which the 

 lighthouse stands, we made our way westward and 

 cast anchor before the town. A couple of forts, one of 

 which was originally built by the Dutch during their 

 occupation of the country, guard the roadstead. The 

 city stretches for a couple of miles along the curving 

 shore of the bay, and is divided into upper and lower 

 sections. The lower section occupies a narrow stretch 

 along the water-front and is raised only a few feet 

 above the level of the sea. Large docks are in process 

 of construction. Behind these rise warehouses, banks, 



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