About one he would return home, have coffee and cake or fried plantain, first changing his dress for a coloured cotton shirt and trousers and bare feet, and then take a siesta with a book.

About four, after a cup of tea, he would walk round his premises, and generally stroll down to Mamajam to pay me a visit, and look after his farm.
This consisted of a coffee plantation and an orchard of fruit trees, a dozen horses and a score of cattle, with a small village of Timorese slaves and Macassar servants.

One family looked after the cattle and supplied the house with milk, bringing me also a large glassful every morning, one of my greatest luxuries.

Others had charge of the horses, which were brought in every afternoon and fed with cut grass.

Others had to cut grass for their master's horses at Macassar--not a very easy task in the dry season, when all the country looks like baked mud; or in the rainy season, when miles in every direction are flooded.