In the beginning of April, 1812, we rented the sugar-plantation of Jaguaribe, distant from Recife four leagues, in a northward direction, and about one league from the coast; it had upon it several slaves, oxen, machinery, and implements, which enabled the new tenant to enter it immediately. A few days after these matters were arranged, I accompanied the owner to the plantation for the purpose of meeting the person who was about to leave it, being the second visit which I had made to my intended place of residence. Having agreed with this man, the owner and myself returned to sleep at the dwelling of one of his brothers, which was situated about a mile and a half from the coast; this person had purchased some lands, which he was now clearing, and upon which he was erecting several buildings. He and his family inhabited a barn, and we were to sleep in his new house, of which the roof and the wood-work of the walls were alone erected. The rainy season had commenced, and this unfinished dwelling was almost surrounded by pools of stagnant water, inhabited by enormous toads, whose loud and hoarse croaking continued during the whole of the night, without intermission. The trunks of the trees which had been cut down a short time before, were lying as they had fallen in all directions. In the morning I set off alone, on my return to Recife; I made for the sea-shore, and soon reached the river Doce, a narrow stream, which after a course of four or five leagues here discharges its waters into the sea. The tide enters it, and again recedes with considerable rapidity; at such times it is not fordable, but at the ebb the remaining waters are very trifling, and some parts of the channel are left quite dry. It is necessary to pass quickly over, as the sand of which its bed is composed is very fine, and although not altogether what is called quicksand, still to delay in one spot is not quite safe. When the tide is out the water of the river is quite sweet, which has obtained for it the name of Doce.