We determined to hurry A. off to his ship, and I begged the young Brazilian to go into the house and break the sad news.  The poor fellow, though fearfully cut up, behaved like a gentleman, walking slowly away so as to give us time to escape.  As we passed the scene of gaiety the sounds of music and dancing were going on, just as when we left it.  How little the jovial throng dreamt of the tragedy that had just been enacted within a few yards of them; of the young life cut down on its threshold!

We got on board all right, but such a terrible row was made about the affair that the ship to which A. belonged had to go to sea the next day, and did not appear again at Rio de Janeiro.

I, though not belonging to that vessel, was not allowed to land for many months.

CHAPTER IV.

Rio de Janeiro.

One word about Rio de Janeiro.  Rio, as it is generally called, is perhaps one of the most lovely spots in the world.  The beautiful natural bay and harbour are unequalled throughout the whole universe.  Still, like the Bosphorus, the finest effect is made by Rio de Janeiro when looked at from the water.  In the days of which I write yellow fever was unknown; now that fearful disease kills its thousands, aye, tens of thousands, yearly.  The climate, though hot at times, is very good; in the summer the mornings are hot to a frying heat, but the sea breeze comes in regularly as clockwork, and when it blows everything is cool and nice.  Life is indeed a lazy existence; there is no outdoor amusement of any kind to be had in the neighbourhood.  As to shooting, there are only a few snipe to be found here and there, and while looking for these you must beware of snakes and other venomous reptiles, which abound both in the country and in town.  I remember a terrible fright a large picnic party, at which I assisted, was thrown into while lunching in the garden of a villa, almost in the town of Rio, by a lady jumping up from her seat with a deadly whip-snake hanging on her dress.  I once myself sat on an adder who put his fangs through the woollen stuff of my inexpressibles and could not escape.  The same thing happened with the lady’s dress; in that case also we caught the snake, as it could not disentangle its fangs.

In the country near Rio there are great snakes called the anaconda, a sort of boa-constrictor on a large scale.  Once, while walking in the woods with some friends, we found a little Indian boy dead on the ground, one of these big snakes lying within a foot or so of him, also dead; the snake had a poisoned arrow in his brain, which evidently had been shot at him by the poor little boy, whose blow-pipe was lying by his side.  The snake must have struck the boy before it died, as we found a wound on the boy’s neck.  This reptile measured twenty-two feet in length.