[Illustration: The Three Navigators]
CHAPTER V.
THE RIVER PLATE.
_Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,_
_They coiled and swam; and every track_
_Was a flash of golden fire._
_Tuesday, September 5th_.--We got under way at 6 a.m., and soon bade
adieu to Rio, where we have spent so many happy days, and to our
friends on board H.M.S. 'Volage' and 'Ready,' with whom we
interchanged salutes in passing. It was a dull wet morning, and we
could not see much of the beauties we were leaving behind us. The peak
of Tijuca and the summit of the Corcovado were scarcely visible, and
the Sugarloaf and Gavia looked cold and grey in the early mist. It was
not long before we were rolling on the bar, and then tumbling about in
very uncomfortable fashion in the rough sea outside. One by one we all
disappeared below, where most of us remained during the greater part
of the day. As for me, I went to bed for good at six o'clock in the
evening, but was called up again at ten, to see some large bonitos
playing about the bows of the yacht. It was really worth the trouble
of getting up and climbing quite into the bows of the vessel to watch
them, as they gambolled and frisked about, brightly illumined by the
phosphorescence of the water, now swimming together steadily in pairs
or fours, now starting in sudden pursuit of one of their number, who
would make an independent rush forward in advance of his companions.
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