88 To the River Plate and Back 



are covered everywhere with dense growths of bananas 

 and plantains. The greenness of a hill covered with 

 bananas can only be likened in its intensity to the 

 greenness of the Irish hillslopes in springtime. 



We did not make a long stay at Santos. Arriving a 

 little after noon on September I3th we sailed just before 

 nightfall on the evening of the day following. The 

 forenoon of the latter day was devoted to sight-seeing 

 and the futile quest of butterflies. The morning was 

 cloudy and there were showers, so that my winged 

 friends of the fields and gardens did not appear in any 

 numbers and I was disappointed. Butterflies love 

 sunshine. They are part of the world of light and cheer. 

 I do not believe that in that old world of darkness, which 

 existed under the fog-laden skies of Mesozoic times, 

 there were many butterflies. That was the age of 

 cockroaches. When our coal-beds were in the process 

 of formation cockroaches were numerous and big, 

 but I doubt if there were many butterflies. 



The night was cloudy as we slipped out of the river 

 and faced the sea. The wind was from the south, and 

 there was a chill in the air. The lights of the shore 

 quickly receded, and we went below to get our dinners, 

 and pass the evening playing bridge- whist. The 

 brilliantly illuminated and cosy cabin was in agreeable 

 contrast to the dark, cold exterior. We knew we were 

 approaching the south temperate zone, and began 

 to think of getting out warmer clothing than we had 

 hitherto worn. 



