"
The next places sighted were the treacherous Abrohles, and the village
of Caravellas back of the reef where, upon refitting, I found that a
chicken cost a thousand reis, a bunch of bananas four hundred reis; but
where a dozen limes cost only twenty reis--one cent. Much whaling gear
lay strewn about the place, and on the beach was the carcass of a whale
about nine days slain. Also leaning against a smart-looking boat was a
grey-haired fisherman, boat and man relics of New Bedford, employed at
this station in their familiar industry. The old man was bare-footed and
thinly clad, after the custom in this climate. Still, I recognized the
fisherman and sailor in the set and rig of the few duds he had on, and
the ample straw hat (donkey's breakfast) that he wore, and doffed in a
seaman-like manner, upon our first salute. "_Filio do Mar do Nord
Americano_," said an affable native close by, pointing at the same time
to that "son of the sea of North America," by way of introduction, as
soon as it was learned that we, too, were of that country. I tried to
learn from this ancient mariner the cause of his being stranded in this
strange land.
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