I tried to hire a montaria and
men, but was told that it would be madness to cross the river in
a small boat with this breeze. On going to Senor Laroque, another
of my Cameta friends, I was relieved of my embarrassment, for I
found there an English gentleman, Mr. Patchett of Pernambuco, who
was visiting Para and its neighbourhood on his way to England,
and who, as he was going back to Para in a small boat with four
paddles, which would start at midnight, kindly offered me a
passage.
The evening from seven to ten o'clock was very stormy. About
seven, the night became intensely dark, and a terrific squall of
wind burst forth, which made the loose tiles fly over the
housetops; to this succeeded lightning and stupendous claps of
thunder, both nearly simultaneous. We had had several of these
short and sharp storms during the past month. At midnight, when
we embarked, all was as calm as though a ruffle had never
disturbed air, forest, or river. The boat sped along like an
arrow to the rhythmic paddling of the four stout youths we had
with us, who enlivened the passage with their wild songs.
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