When all was explained the old chief said he did not fully understand all I had said, but one thing he understood and was willing to try--that baptism required one to be a better man. Said he, "I am willing to be baptized and listen to your talk, for I believe it is good. I will seek to be a better man and try to learn more about God. Now here are three of us who are willing to do this; if this will do you can baptize us, we do not want any shirts; we will then try to learn and teach your words to our people, and when they are ready we will tell you and you can baptize them. I now felt satisfied and baptized the old chief and the ones he named, feeling a real joy for I knew they were honest. This deception of my first interpreter had its effect that reaches far into the future. Believing on the start that he would be useful to me, I had given him a piece of land near by camp, where he had been doing a little work. I now felt so disappointed in him that I wished to get rid of him. He said if he got his pay for the land he would leave. This he received in full, and I thought I would hear no more of him. In this, too, I was disappointed. Often during the spring and summer natives visited our camp enquiring about our people and principles. I heard that the "shirt and land" story had reached quite a distance. One party of Maricopas, fourteen in number, headed by an old chief, Malia, came to see us. They were very poor and destitute, but seemed more intelligent than the average. I was very busy, being obliged to go away from camp. The old chief said they were willing to help me, and insisted that I would show them some work to do, saying they would remain and work until I had time to talk to them. This old fellow talked good Spanish. I showed them a piece of land that we desired to plant in corn. They went to work and cleared the brush from it. I afterwards gave this same land to these Indians. When Brother Merrills left, our ditch was not nearly finished. In fact it was simply commenced, and we who were left were almost destitute and heavily in debt. Some of the same Indians we had employed offered to take hold and help us finish up the ditch if we would let them have some land lying along the river bottom. The land was sandy and broken with hills and hollows, and there was considerable brush on it. It was a kind of land the whites did not desire but the very kind the Indians preferred. I agreed to let them have this privilege. The first who came were the same party under Malia (Maricopas), who worked clearing off land. I gave them the eastern portion of the land. Francisco Chico Ochoa, a Pima, came well recommended as a good, honest man. He agreed to keep me posted in regard to the character of those applying for lands. The Pimas were to have the western portion of the lands.