TISIT TO THE BUEIAE-GROUNH. 
331 
ground, where so many of our brave companions had 
found a last resting-place. It is a little outside of 
the town; a narrow winding footpath leads to it, 
through paths of guava and other dark-leaved trees, 
and near it a murmuring stream pursues its downward 
course. On reaching the sequestered spot, we stood 
once more beside the lofty cotton-tree, at the broad base 
of which, is the tumulus marking the grave of Richard 
Lander. Near that enterprising traveller is deposited, 
all that was mortal of the talented and amiable Com- 
mander Bird Allen, and on the right and left those 
of Lieutenant David Hope Stenhouse and Mr. W. C. 
Willie, mate, while around are commingled the 
remains of Doctor Vogel, botanist, Mr. G. B. Harvey, 
master; James Wood and Horatio Collman, assistant- 
surgeons; W. H. Wilmett, clerk, Louis Wolf, seaman 
schoolmaster, Robert Milward, purser’s steward, 
Morgan Kinson, marine, John McOlintock, Peter Fitz- 
gerald, and Christopher Bigley, stokers. 
How quiet, solemn, and how full of melancholy 
interest did that little place appear, draped with the 
sombre and almost impenetrable underwood, which 
nature in her luxuriance had already began to throw 
around. ’Twas not eight months since all these our 
friends, companions, fellow-labourers, had been laid 
there, and now each mound was mantled with a vege- 
tation which almost obscured them from view: yet 
still the mighty bombax, with its stupendous branches, 
overshadowed them, sprinkling around the silken 
