Deck and port; or, Incidents of a cruise in the United States frigate Congress to California . nd the public will tranquillywork itself out in the shape of law, Brazil will takeher station among free republics. As the old cathedral clock struck eleven, and thelights in the balconies grew dim, the barge of ourcommodore, in which we had been invited to take aseat, parted from the strand of Rio. Again on deck,a farewell look was thrown to its hills, sleeping inthe soft moonlight. On those hills a Byron, a Cook, 121 A\0 TORT. .t Mag Han h ; morn still breaks over they know it not. The world
Deck and port; or, Incidents of a cruise in the United States frigate Congress to California . nd the public will tranquillywork itself out in the shape of law, Brazil will takeher station among free republics. As the old cathedral clock struck eleven, and thelights in the balconies grew dim, the barge of ourcommodore, in which we had been invited to take aseat, parted from the strand of Rio. Again on deck,a farewell look was thrown to its hills, sleeping inthe soft moonlight. On those hills a Byron, a Cook, 121 A\0 TORT. .t Mag Han h ; morn still breaks over they know it not. The world may stillretain a faint echo of their fame, but where are they?and where, in a few years, shall we be? where arethe millions, whose voices rang through the |Death has hushed their exulting tunes, and theirmonuments have crumbled under the footstep oftime. And we are passing to the same silent the furrows of our keel pass from the face of thedeep, so will the strife, the sorrows, and the triumphsof our being, glide from the memory oLman. What shadows we and what shadows we pursue 1. 125 CHAPTER IV. PASSAGE FEOM EIO TO CAPE HORN. GETTING UNDER WAY.—=-THE LETTER-BAG. RUNAWAY SAILOR.—ISLE OF ST. CATHERINE. PAMPEROES.—THE SHOTTED GUN. LOSS OF OUR COON.—? THE SAILOR AND SHARK. GENERAL QUARTERS AT NIGHT. FIREWORKS IN THE SEA. THE PHANTOM SHIP. PATAGONIANS. THE FALKLAND ISL-ANDS. THE CAPTURED ALBATROS. TERRIFIC GALE. CONDITION OF OUR FRIGATE. THE SAILORS BURIAL. THE CAPE OF STORMS. All hands unmoor—the captains brief command; The cable round the flying capstan rings,The anchor quits its bed, the sails expand, The gallant ship before the quick, breeze springs. Wednesday, Jan. 14, 1846. This morning as thefirst rays of the sun lit the Corcovada peak, we trip-ped our anchors, and, under a light land breeze, stooddown the bay of Rio. It being understood that wewere to take our departure at this hour, the officers of the national ships, which lay moored aroundus
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