Chap. V. LIFE AT CAPJrf. 171 



amateur naturalist, was capsized here and dro^\med with 

 his wife and child, wdiilst passing in a heavily-laden 

 montaria to his large canoe. Remembering their fate, 

 I was rather alarmed to see that I should be obliged to 

 take all my luggage ashore in one trip in a leaky little 

 boat. The pile of chests with two Indians and myself 

 sank the montaria almost to the level of the water. I 

 was kept busy baling all the way. The Indians manage 

 canoes in this condition with admirable skill. They pre- 

 serve the nicest equilibrium, and paddle so gently that 

 not the slightest oscillation is perceptible. On landing, 

 an old negress named Florinda, the feitora or manageress 

 of the establishment which was kept only as a poultry 

 farm and hospital for sick slaves, gave me the keys, and 

 I forthwith took possession of the rooms I required. 



I remained here nine weeks, or until the 12th of 

 February, 1849. The house was very large and most 

 substantially built, but consisted of only one story. I 

 was told it was built by the Jesuits more than a 

 century ago. The front had no verandah, the doors 

 opening on a slightly elevated terrace about a hundred 

 yards distant from the broad sandy beach. Ai'ound the 

 residence the ground had been cleared to the extent of 

 two or three acres, and was planted with fruit trees. 

 Well-trodden pathways through the forest led to little 

 colonies of the natives on the banks of retired creeks 

 and rivulets in the interior. I led here a solitary but not 

 unpleasant life ; there was a great charm in the loneli- 

 ness of the jDlace. The swell of the river beating on 

 the sloping beach caused an unceasing murmur, which 

 lulled me to sleep at night, and seemed approjDriate 



