[*Footnote: The bodyguard of picked men, armed with snider rifles.]
I had chosen a pretty spot for my station, as I did not intend to reside
at head-quarters, which would be the site originally occupied by the
Austrian mission, and was well adapted for a large town.
My position was a rising knoll of about six acres upon which grew a few
shady trees. This spot had been the station of a missionary known by the
natives under the name of "Suleiman;" his was the only name remembered
by the Baris, and his body had been buried here, but nothing marked the
spot. He had passed away, like all the rest of these good and
self-sacrificing people, without leaving one trace of good works among
this barbarous tribe except the lemon-trees; theirs was the only seed
that appeared to have fallen on good ground.
In a few days my men had made a large garden, in which I sowed onions,
radishes, beans, spinach, four varieties of water melons, sweet melons,
cucumbers, oranges, custard apples, Indian corn, garlic, barmian,
tobacco, cabbages, tomatoes, chilis, long capsicums, carrots, parsley,
celery. I arranged the daily labour so that the soldiers and sailors
should work at the cultivation from 6 A.M. till 11; after which they
might have the day to themselves, to construct their own huts.