THE BEAUTY OF BRAZIL 



with the scent of the vegetation the shrilling of the cicadas and the 

 piping of the frogs entered the room. It was as though the life and 

 activity of Nature had invaded the very room by way of the verandah, 

 where the moonbeams, drifting through the foliage, covered the 

 floor with starry spots of light. For even in the room the electric 

 light showed little frogs moving silently across the walls, while from 

 time to time a rhinoceros-beetle or some other insect fell buzzing 

 on the white table-cloth, or the fire-flies, with their green lanterns, 

 performed a faery dance. 



It was this continual presence of Nature all about me that I missed 

 most sorely when I returned to Europe. 



The voyage from Pernambuco to the South is magnificent, especially 

 if one travels not by one of the great ocean-Hners, but by one 

 of the Brazilian line of coasting-steamers, the "Gosteira," whose 

 names begin with "Ita" (the Indian word for rock). The Ita 

 steamers sail so near the coast that the latter is almost always in 

 sight. They are not, however, to be recommended to travellers who 

 suffer from sea-sickness, since they are built with almost flat bottoms, 

 and keelless, in order that they may be able to enter the shallow 

 lagoons of the southern States. They therefore roll considerably, even 

 in a gentle swell, and the South Atlantic, being swept by the trade- 

 wind, is never quite calm. Nevertheless, I much enjoyed the voyage 

 on the Itaquatia. She was a clean, handsome vessel, the food was 

 good, the Brazilian passengers were cheerful and friendly, and it 

 was delightful to lie in a deck-chair on the flat roof of the saloon, 

 and gaze across the sea to the constantly changing coast. Here was 

 a natural cinema, of the loveliest kind imaginable. One's enjoyment 

 was still further enhanced by a glass of good Rio Grande wine. 



We put into Maceio, the capital of the State of Alagoas. The 

 roadstead is a brilliant green, as in Pernambuco; sailing-boats, 

 gently heeling, shoot across the water. Further to the south the 

 bluffs and escarpments of the coast appear to be gleaming with 

 freshly-fallen snow, for the green of the hanging woods which run 

 down to the yellow line of the beach is broken by patches of 

 dazzling white. These are deposits dating from an early period of 

 the earth's history, the Eocene. For a long while the steamer glides 

 past the white and green hills of the coast, but at last houses are 

 seen on the level of the beach, and above them towers and domes 

 peep over the ridges of the hills. Now a lighthouse appears, sur- 



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