Meanwhile an east wind arises, the fog disappears; when he thinks he
has reached the suburbs of the city, Selkirk sees before him only an
irregular assemblage of calcareous stones, crowned with dry herbs, or
reddish, arid, angular rocks, flattened at their summits, tessellated
with fragments of silex and mica, on which the sun is just pouring his
rays; a company of goats, which the mist had condemned to a momentary
repose, are bounding here and there, startling flocks of clamorous
black-birds and plaintive sea-gulls; the fearless and yellow-crested
woodpeckers alone do not stir, but continue to hammer with their sharp
beaks at some old stunted trees.

The disenchantment is painful for our sailor; the fog has deceived him
with the semblance of a city, as it has more than once deluded us in
the midst of plains and woods, by the appearance of an ocean with its
white waves, its great capes, its bold shores, and its vessels at
anchor.

Perhaps Coquimbo is still beyond. Fearing to lose himself if he
ventures farther in an unknown land, he resolves to explore it first
by a look. Returning to the shore upon which he had landed, he scales
the mountains on the north, reaches the first platform, and from
thence seeks to discover some indications of a city. Nothing! he still
ascends, the circle enlarges around him, but with no better result.
Summoning all his courage, through a thousand difficulties, climbing,
drawing himself up by the arid and abrupt rocks, piled one upon
another, he at last attains a culminating point of the mountain. He
can now embrace with his eye an immense horizon, but this immense
horizon is the sea! On his right, on his left, before him, behind him,
every where the sea!