In addition to field labour, and the acquisition of the native language, which, says Father Salvado, "we were learning with all our might," he and his colleague were endeavouring, with no less energy, to obtain an insight into the laws, customs, and superstitions of the savages, hoping to be thus able to suppress their frequent fights. When this task was impossible, the Benedictine hut became a hospital to which the wounded were carried; and though Father Salvado says of himself and his brother Serra that the one knew as much of doctoring as the other—"which was nothing"—yet the cures which the two brought about, notwithstanding this want of knowledge, were the means of gaining for the amateur surgeons a degree of affectionate confidence from the patients which probably could have been secured by no other circumstance.
The happiest moment for conveying instruction to these wild children of nature was at night, when a ring of listeners sat round the fire, and story-telling followed the evening meal. At such times Father Salvado would be often called upon to contribute his share to the entertainment, and would be interrogated concerning the customs of his country, the names of his parents (his mother especially), those of his brothers, and what were his reasons for having quitted his relations. A description of European customs never failed to elicit loud and hearty peals of laughter; but when he proceeded to relate the motives which had induced him to leave his home and kindred the audience listened with eyes fixed and breath suspended. "I did my best," he adds, "to take advantage of these moments that I might gain them for the Lord's service,
