FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF THE ISLAND.
The decks of the Brooklyn presented a strange and half-savage scene.
Most of the passengers, aroused from their sleep by the shouts of the
officers and crew, had rushed upon deck nearly naked, and quite at a
loss to know what had happened. While we were answering some of their
questions, Captain Richardson, the master, pushed his way through the
crowd and asked what all the noise was about. We speedily explained how
we had left the Anteus seventy miles out at sea, and how, through the
aid of Providence, we had made our way into the harbor and descried the
ship's lamp; declaring at the same time our belief that, had we missed
the ship, in all probability we would have been dashed to pieces upon
the rocks. We then made ourselves known personally to the captain, who
was well acquainted with some of the party. He cordially welcomed us on
board, and invited us into his cabin, where we gave him a more detailed
account of our adventure. Meantime the cook was ordered to get us some
breakfast as soon as possible, and Captain Richardson offered us dry
clothes, and administered to our wants in the kindest manner. Nor was it
long till we felt exceedingly comfortable considering the previous
circumstances. We soon had breakfast, which, after our toils and
troubles, was truly a Godsend. Some of the finest fish I ever ate was on
the table; excellent ham and potatoes also, fresh bread, and coffee
boiling hot. It was devoured with a most uncommon relish, as you may
suppose; and it was none the less agreeable for being seasoned with
pleasant conversation.
[Illustration: JUAN FERNANDEZ.]
The captain admitted that in all his seafaring career he had never known
of any thing more absurd than our adventure, and that it was a miracle
we were not every one lost. All the passengers crowded around us as if
we had risen from the depths of the sea, and I fancied they examined us
as if they had an idea that we were some kind of sea-monsters.
The Brooklyn lay at anchor about half a mile from the boat-landing. At
the dawn of day I was on the deck, looking eagerly toward the island. I
may as well confess at once that no child could have felt more delighted
than I did in the anticipation of something illusive and enchanting. My
heart throbbed with impatience to see what it was that cast so strange a
fascination about that lonely spot. All was wrapped in mist; but the air
was filled with fresh odors of land, and wafts of sweetness more
delicious than the scent of new-mown hay. The storm had ceased, and the
soft-echoed bleating of goats, and the distant baying of wild dogs were
all the sounds of life that broke upon the stillness. It seemed as if
the sun, loth to disturb the ocean in its rest, or reveal the scene of
beauty that lay slumbering upon its bosom, would never rise again, so
gently the light stole upon the eastern sky, so softly it absorbed the
shadows of night. I watched the golden glow as it spread over the
heavens, and beheld at last the sun in all his majesty scatter away the
thick vapors that lay around his resting-place, and each vale was opened
out in the glowing light of the morning, and the mountains that towered
out of the sea were bathed in the glory of his rays.
Never shall I forget the strange delight with which I gazed upon that
isle of romance; the unfeigned rapture I felt in the anticipation of
exploring that miniature world in the desert of waters, so fraught with
the happiest associations of youth; so remote from all the ordinary
realities of life; the actual embodiment of the most absorbing, most
fascinating of all the dreams of fancy. Many foreign lands I had seen;
many islands scattered over the broad ocean, rich and wondrous in their
romantic beauty; many glens of Utopian loveliness; mountain heights
weird and impressive in their sublimity; but nothing to equal this in
variety of outline and undefinable richness of coloring; nothing so
dreamlike, so wrapped in illusion, so strange and absorbing in its
novelty. Great peaks of reddish rock seemed to pierce the sky wherever I
looked; a thousand rugged ridges swept upward toward the centre in a
perfect maze of enchantment. It was all wild, fascinating, and unreal.
The sides of the mountains were covered with patches of rich grass,
natural fields of oats, and groves of myrtle and pimento. Abrupt walls
of rock rose from the water to the height of a thousand feet. The surf
broke in a white line of foam along the shores of the bay, and its
measured swell floated upon the air like the voice of a distant
cataract. Fields of verdure covered the ravines; ruined and moss-covered
walls were scattered over each eminence; and the straw huts of the
inhabitants were almost imbosomed in trees, in the midst of the valley,
and jets of smoke arose out of the groves and floated off gently in the
calm air of the morning. In all the shore, but one spot, a single
opening among the rocks, seemed accessible to man. The rest of the coast
within view consisted of fearful cliffs overhanging the water, the
ridges from which sloped upward as they receded inland, forming a
variety of smaller valleys above, which were strangely diversified with
woods and grass, and golden fields of wild oats. Close to the water's
edge was the dark moss-covered rock, forever moist with the bright spray
of the ocean, and above it, cleft in countless fissures by earthquakes
in times past, the red burnt earth; and there were gorges through which
silvery springs coursed, and cascades fringed with banks of shrubbery;
and still higher the slopes were of a bright yellow, which, lying
outspread in the glow of the early sunlight, almost dazzled the eye; and
round about through the valleys and on the hill-sides, the groves of
myrtle, pimento, and corkwood were draped in green, glittering with
rain-drops after the storm, and the whole air was tinged with ambrosial
tints, and filled with sweet odors; nothing in all the island and its
shores, as the sun rose and cast off the mist, but seemed to
"suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange."