192 Mr. A. Newton's two Days at Madeira. 



sighted Madeira proper and the Dezertas, and finally dropped 

 our anchor in Funchal Roads about midnight. 



Next morning, looking out of the port-hole, the first thing 

 that attracted one's attention was the intensely blue water — so 

 blue as to appear almost opake. The sky was clouded, and the 

 hills above the town draped in mist. Our steamer was sur- 

 rounded by gay- looking boats, stocked with live turtle, bananas, 

 and neat wicker cages crowded with canary-birds. The moment 

 an unwary passenger showed himself in the waist, a general chorus 

 of tawny boatmen in indifferent English invited him to go ashore. 

 By the kindness of one of our fellow-voyagers, horses had been 

 ordered for my brother, my nephew, and myself. When we got 

 on to the beach, and had satisfactorily concluded the wrangle, 

 inevitable in such cases, as to boat-hire, the rain began. We 

 paddled about the town for a couple of hours or more, as the 

 idea of starting on a ride was absurd. We looked into the fruit- 

 market; were offered a string of semiputrid Quails by a man 

 in the street (said Quails being decidedly darker in colour than 

 our Coturnix dactTjlisonans)) visited the Convent of Santa Clara, 

 whose inmates have an ornithological turn, since they make very 

 pretty artificial flowers out of feathers; and finally inspected 

 the Fort, which is defended by certain soldiers of His Most Faith- 

 ful Majesty and a glacis covered with prickly pear. From the 

 ramparts a good view of the town is obtained ; but what I 

 looked at more was some three or four couple of small dark 

 Swifts [Cypselus unicolor) , which, were wheeling to and fro under 

 its walls. Beautiful little birds they were, and a very good 

 living they seemed to be making, judging from the constant 

 rapid jerks in their flight, and the abundance of small insects 

 that, in spite of the rain, filled the air. At length the sun shone 

 out, and in desperation we determined no longer to defer our ride. 

 Accordingly the horses were brought out, and off we started at a 

 gallop, each of us being accompanied by a man (a burriqueiro) 

 whose business it is to hang on by the tail. The first mile was over 

 the stones, and up a hill so steep that, having some regard to my 

 reputation for veracity with the readers of 'The Ibis,' I shall re- 

 frain from mentioning what I believe to be its angle of inclination. 

 I can only say I do not thnik I ever rode (much less gallopped) 



