On the afternoon of the 6th of December I set out for Evora, accompanied
by my servant. I had been informed that the tide would serve for the
regular passage-boats, or felouks, as they are called, at about four
o'clock; but on reaching the side of the Tagus opposite to Aldea Gallega,
between which place and Lisbon the boats ply, I found that the tide would
not permit them to start before eight o'clock. Had I waited for them I
should have probably landed at Aldea Gallega about midnight, and I felt
little inclination to make my entree in the Alemtejo at that hour;
therefore, as I saw small boats which can push off at any time lying near
in abundance, I determined upon hiring one of them for the passage,
though the expense would be thus considerably increased. I soon agreed
with a wild-looking lad, who told me that he was in part owner of one of
the boats, to take me over. I was not aware of the danger in crossing
the Tagus at its broadest part, which is opposite Aldea Gallega, at any
time, but especially at close of day in the winter season, or I should
certainly not have ventured. The lad and his comrade, a
miserable-looking object, whose only clothing, notwithstanding the
season, was a tattered jerkin and trousers, rowed until we had advanced
about half a mile from the land; they then set up a large sail, and the
lad, who seemed to direct everything, and to be the principal, took the
helm and steered. The evening was now setting in; the sun was not far
from its bourne in the horizon; the air was very cold, the wind was
rising, and the waves of the noble Tagus began to be crested with foam. I
told the boy that it was scarcely possible for the boat to carry so much
sail without upsetting, upon which he laughed, and began to gabble in a
most incoherent manner. He had the most harsh and rapid articulation
that has ever come under my observation in any human being; it was the
scream of the hyena blended with the bark of the terrier, though it was
by no means an index of his disposition, which I soon found to be light,