In about ten minutes after
this the anchor was let go, and for a quarter of an hour, nothing was
heard on deck but the bustle of the people furling sails, coiling down
the ropes, and getting every thing in order, as is usual in coming into
port. It was evident that several boats had boarded us soon after we
anchored, as I could make out part of the greetings between the
strangers and Obed, in which my own name recurred more than once. In a
little while all was still again, and Obed called down the companion to
my guards, that I might come on deck,--a boon I was not long in availing
myself of.
We were anchored nearly in the centre of a shallow swampy lagoon, about
a mile across, as near as I could judge; two very large schooners,
heavily armed, were moored ahead of us, one on each bow, and another
rather smaller lay close under our stern; they all had sails bent, and
every thing apparently in high order, and were full of men. The shore,
to the distance of a bow--shot from the water all around us, was low,
marshy, and covered with an impervious jungle of thick strong reeds and
wild canes, with here and there a thicket of mangroves; a little farther
off, the land swelled into lofty hills, covered to the very summit with
heavy timber, but every thing had a moist, green, steamy appearance, as
if it had been the region of perpetual rain. "Lots of yellow fever
here," thought I, as the heavy rank smell of decayed vegetable matter
came off on the faint sickly breeze, and the sluggish fog banks crept
along the dull clay--coloured motionless surface of the tepid water.
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