The fresh green shores of this glorious island lay before us, fringed
with white surf, as the everlasting ocean in its approach to it
gradually changed its dark blue colour, as the water shoaled, into a
bright joyous green under the blazing sun, as if in sympathy with the
genius of the fair land, before it tumbled at his feet its gently
swelling billows, in shaking thunders on the reefs and rocky face of the
coast, against which they were driven up in clouds, the incense of their
sacrifice. The undulating hills in the vicinity were all, either
cleared, and covered with the greenest verdure that imagination can
picture, over which strayed large herds of cattle, or with forests of
gigantic trees, from amongst which, every now and then, peeped out some
palm thatched mountain settlement, with its small thread of blue smoke
floating up into the calm clear morning air, while the blue hills in the
distance rose higher and higher, and more and more blue, and dreamy, and
indistinct, until their rugged summits could not be distinguished from
the clouds through the glimmering hot haze of the tropics.
“By the mark seven,” sung out the leadsman in the starboard chains.
“Quarter less three,” responded he in the larboard, showing that the
inequalities of the surface at the bottom of the sea, even in the
breadth of the ship, were at least as abrupt as those presented above
water by the sides of the natural canal into which we were now running.
By this time, on our right hand, we were within pistol shot of the Moro,
where the channel is not above fifty yards across; indeed there is a
chain, made fast to a rock on the opposite side, that can be hove up by
a capstan until it is level with the water, so as to constitute an
insurmountable obstacle to any attempt to force an entrance in time of
war. As we stood in, the golden flag of Spain rose slowly on the staff
at the Water Battery, and Cast its large sleepy folds abroad in the
breeze; but, instead of floating over mailclad men, or Spanish soldiers
in warlike array, three poor devils of half naked mulattoes stuck their
heads out of an embrasure under its shadow. “Senor Capitan,” they
shouted, ‘una Botella de Roma, por el honor del pais.’ We were mighty
close upon leaving the bones of the old ship here, by the by; for at the
very instant of entering the harbour’s mouth, the land wind checked us
off, and very nearly hove us broadside on upon the rocks below the
castle, against which the swell was breaking in thunder.
“Let go the anchor,” sung out the captain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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