One forenoon our eyes beheld a golden tower emerging out of the damp marine blue in the horizon. It glittered and sparkled in the bright sunlight and unusually clear atmosphere. After a while there also appeared green treetops, as if growing on the bosom of the ocean. Yet we could see no land. But gradually there came in sight forest-clad hills, back of the trees that first appeared. The golden tower rose greater and higher above all.
A pilot and a tug came out, and took us in and up the river about 20 miles, to the city of Rangoon. Never shall I forget the wonderful sight on the approach to this port from the ocean. The forest, standing to all appearances out of the sea; we could see no land because the woods grew right down to the shoreline, and seemed to cover it, the foliage hanging in the water in many places. I had never seen a coast like that before. It was like an approach to a fairyland. The elevation of the land was so gradual that the tide and ebb rose and fell in the city as it did on the outer coast 20 miles away.
On an elevation just back of the city stood the magnificient temple, or pagoda, that we saw far out at sea. This golden tower was a peculiarly distinctive landmark, visible in all directions. The terrain back of the city was mostly level, with small elevations here and there. Both sides of the river we entered were covered by deep old forest.
Our anchorage was right in front of the city. There were no piers or wharves. The river was deep and broad. About 90 days had now elapsed since we left England and we had sailed about 12,000 miles. This was considered a rapid voyage. It was now in the month of March and about the coldest time of the year. But, really, it was very hot. Rangoon lies in about 16º north latitude, far within the torrid zone. As soon as we could do so we stretched awnings over the whole ship. The sun poured a fierce heat during the day, and there was no breeze until toward evening when a faint breath of air would sometimes come up from the sea.