I made to the Corcovado, a high
mountain whence the water is conveyed for the supply of the city.
We started to take a walk, and passed along the aqueduct, which
approaches the city by a aeries of arches; thence up the point of
the hill to a place known as the Madre, or fountain, to which all
the water that drips from the leaves is conducted by tile gutters,
and is carried to the city by an open stone aqueduct.

Here we found Mr. Henry A. Wise, of Virginia, the United States
minister to Brazil, and a Dr. Garnett, United States Navy, his
intended son-in-law. We had a very interesting conversation, in
which Mr. Wise enlarged on the fact that Rio was supplied from the
"dews of heaven," for in the dry season the water comes from the
mists and fogs which hang around the Corcovado, drips from the
leaves of the trees, and is conducted to the Madre fountain by
miles of tile gutters. Halleck and I continued our ascent of the
mountain, catching from points of the way magnificent views of the
scenery round about Rio Janeiro. We reached near the summit what
was called the emperor's coffee-plantation, where we saw
coffee-berries in their various stages, and the scaffolds on which
the berries were dried before being cleaned. The coffee-tree
reminded me of the red haw-tree of Ohio, and the berries were
somewhat like those of the same tree, two grains of coffee being
inclosed in one berry. These were dried and cleaned of the husk by
hand or by machinery. A short, steep ascent from this place
carried us to the summit, from which is beheld one of the most
picturesque views on earth. The Organ Mountains to the west and
north, the ocean to the east, the city of Rio with its red-tiled
houses at our feet, and the entire harbor like a map spread out,
with innumerable bright valleys, make up a landscape that cannot be
described by mere words. This spot is universally visited by
strangers, and has often been described. After enjoying it
immeasurably, we returned to the city by another route, tired but
amply repaid by our long walk.

In due time all had been done that was requisite, and the Lexington
put to sea and resumed her voyage. In October we approached Cape
Horn, the first land descried was Staten Island, white with snow,
and the ship seemed to be aiming for the channel to its west,
straits of Le Maire, but her course was changed and we passed
around to the east. In time we saw Cape Horn; an island rounded
like an oven, aft