Our progress against the incoming wind and sea was very slow, but this gave us an excellent opportunity to take a long parting view of the beautiful Bay of Rio de Janeiro, with all its indescribable splendour. The sun was low, close to the crests of a ridge of mountain peaks. We were steaming out of the mouth of the bay, a harbour which is said to be large enough to afford room for all the naval fleets of the world. On every side were mountains rising abruptly from the waving expanse of blue--mountains with cliffs and steep slopes, many apparently perpendicular, all with sides nearly covered by a thick dark green verdure. Only the loftiest peaks were bald and even these had a few weather-worn trees to add colour and life. As we looked over the stern of the _Belgica_, much of the city was still in view. The low, irregular houses, with tiled roofs and sides washed with lime in various bright shades of red, white and blue, were unique and attractive. They will always remain in our minds as a pleasing reminder of Brazilian good wishes. Before the city and behind it were the perennial midsummer waters, spotted with vessels of various nations, beset by a score of emerald isles and fringed by as many fascinating bays. It is, however, the crude, rugged majesty,--the rare grandeur of the mountain peaks around the enchanting harbour which give it ever fresh and effervescent glory. Beginning at the left and close to the stern of the _Belgica_, was a bold peak of solid rock, which from its fancied resemblance to a lump of sugar, is called _Pão de Assucar_. A little farther on the eye is stopped by the famous Corcovado, a huge needle of granite, its base washed by the blue tropical waters, its apex, three thousand feet above, piercing soft, pearly vapours, and its sides painted by the hand of nature in various shades of green. Next upon the horizon was outlined the strange freak of nature, the _Bicodo do Papagaio_, or Parrot’s Beak. A bit of landscape, more distant and less startling, but still very alluring, is next in line--the interfolding rock configurations of Gavea. Then several other sky-scraping mountains, and the enraptured vision ends upon the whitened crown of fair Santa Thereza. Along the head of the bay, ever veiled by a blue haze, are the Organ Mountains, so named because the various cones and serrated peaks bear a fancied resemblance to the pipes of an organ. Beyond these, but out of vision, is Petropolis, the new capital of Brazil, and the summer home for Rio’s wealthy and foreign residents. To the right are lesser mountains, separated by deep bays and broad, fertile valleys. The beds of these are clothed with banana, mango, pineapple, and other fruit-bearing trees and plants. The scene as a whole is a feast to the eyes and a nursery to the mind. But we must be off to less fertile lands--on to the icy south, stopping only at Montevideo and the Strait of Magellan before we attack the virgin ice south of Cape Horn.