"I left in a French steamer: The French Steam Ship and she called in every blamed port they have out there, for, as far as I could see, the sole purpose of landing soldiers and custom-house officers. I watched the coast. Watching a coast as it slips by the ship is like thinking about an enigma. Analogy comparing the coast slipping by the ship to a mystery. There it is before you -- smiling, frowning, inviting, grand, mean, insipid, or savage, and always mute with an air of whispering, Personification: Giving humanlike features to the coast. 'Come and find out.' This one was almost featureless, as if still in the making, with an aspect of monotonous grimness. Suggesting that the coast invites us to uncover its secrets. The edge of a colossal jungle, so dark-green as to be almost black by using these two words is the author purposely trying to imply racial discrimination....?, fringed with white surf, ran straight, like a ruled line, far, far away along a blue sea whose glitter was blurred by a creeping mist. The sun was fierce, the land seemed to glisten and drip with steam. Here and there grayish-whitish specks showed up clustered inside the white surf, with a flag flying above them perhaps. “Whitish specks” symbolize the white settlements. Settlements some centuries old, and still no bigger than pinheads on the untouched expanse of their background. They looked so small in the huge jungle. We pounded along, stopped, landed Parallelism soldiers; went on, landed Parallelism custom-house clerks to levy toll in what looked like a God-forsaken wilderness, with a tin shed and a flag-pole lost in it; landed Parallelism more soldiers -- to take care of the custom-house clerks, presumably. Some, I heard, got drowned in the surf; but whether they did or not, nobody seemed particularly to care. They were just flung out there, and on we went. Every day the coast looked the same, as though we had not moved; but we passed various places -- trading places -- with...
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