If we touched them, they merely dragged
themselves, with great difficulty, a few paces further, although
they could rise very easily from the surface of the water, and fly
extremely high.
One of the gentlemen was exceedingly anxious to kill and stuff one
of them, but the superstition of the sailors was opposed to this.
They said that if birds were killed on board ship, their death would
be followed by long calms. We yielded to their wishes and restored
the little creatures to the air and waves, their native elements.
This was another proof that superstition is still deep-rooted in the
minds of sailors. Of this we had afterwards many other instances.
The captain, for example, was always very averse to the passengers
amusing themselves with cards or any other game of chance; in
another vessel, as I was informed, no one was allowed to write on
Sunday, etc. Empty casks or logs of wood were also very frequently
thrown overboard during a calm - probably as sacrifices to the
deities of the winds.
On the morning of the 16th of September we at last had the good
fortune to perceive the mountains before Rio Janeiro, and soon
singled out the Sugarloaf. At 2 o'clock, P.M., we entered the bay
and port of Rio Janeiro.
