Two Years Among the Savages of New Guinea.
by W. D. Pitcairn · English · Gutenberg #35583 · 314,887 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Two Years Among the Savages of New Guinea.
Author: W. D. Pitcairn
Release date: March 15, 2011 [eBook #35583]
Language: English
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[Image: Map illustrating Author's route in New Guinea.]
TWO YEARS AMONG
THE
SAVAGES OF NEW GUINEA.
WITH INTRODUCTORY NOTES ON NORTH QUEENSLAND.
BY
W. D. PITCAIRN,
Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society and Associate
Member of the Manchester Geographical Society.
_With a Map._
LONDON:
WARD & DOWNEY
12, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C.
1891.
[_All rights reserved._]
PRINTED BY
KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS,
AND KINGSTON-ON-THAMES.
TO MY FRIEND
OSCAR SOELBERG,
WITH WHOM I HAVE SPENT MANY HAPPY DAYS IN NEW GUINEA,
I DEDICATE THIS BOOK.
PREFACE.
As every Bill has a preamble, so, I suppose, every book should have a
preface. At any rate, such appears to be the universal custom, and I,
being of an orthodox turn of mind, am not going to depart from the
general rule. Some months ago I mentioned to an acquaintance of mine,
a gentleman of considerable literary attainments, that I purposed
writing a book on New Guinea, describing my experiences, etc. He
replied "Why, the subject is thrashed out, and writings on New Guinea
are overdone." I may state that, as the said gentleman had never been
in that country, I was not biassed by his opinion.
Had he said that the few writers on New Guinea were thrashed out, he
would have been nearer to the mark, as the subject of a country so
vast, and the civilised settlement of which is in its infancy, will not
be thrashed out for many years to come. We do not all wear the same
pair of spectacles. I have endeavoured to describe places and people as
they appeared to me. Whether the results as set forth in this work
will be found satisfactory or otherwise must be decided by its readers.
W. D. PITCAIRN.
The Vicarage, Eccles, June, 1890.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION.
NORTH QUEENSLAND.
Cooktown--Landing of Capt. Cook--North Shore--Native Fights--Decline
of the Race--Endeavour River--Bush Scenery--Birth of Township--Palmer
Goldfield--Frank Stubley--Mount Morgan--The Tin Fields--Sugar
Cultivation--Bloomfield River--Deserted in the Bush--A Fishing
Excursion 1
NEW GUINEA.
CHAPTER I.
THE VOYAGE.
Schooner _Spitfire_--Last Adieus--The Start--The Great Barrier--
Osprey Reef--Wreck of the S.S. _Papua_--"Taking the Sun"--
Somnambulism on the High Seas--Breakers Ahead--Land in Sight--
Brumer Islands--A Dead Calm--H.M.S. _Harrier_--Heath Island--
Natives Come on Board--China Straits--At Anchor 27
CHAPTER II.
THE GOVERNMENT.
British Policy--Death of Sir Peter Scratchley--Hon. John
Douglas--Discovery of Gold--Samarai--Native Policy of the
Government--China Straits--A Marine Villa--Native Intelligence 40
CHAPTER III.
NATIVE CUSTOMS.
Types--Origin--Religion--Mourning--Marriage--Treatment of
Women--Children--Dress--Villages--Land Tenure--Food--Language
--Musical Instruments--Native Manufactures 57
CHAPTER IV.
A STORMY TRIP.
Christmas at Samarai--Ah Gim--Expedition to Wari--A Series of
Mishaps--The Island of Wari--Chewing Betel-Nut--Smoking--Canoe
Trading 72
CHAPTER V.
A GOLDEN PROSPECT.
Arrival of _Juanita_--Origin of Gold Discovery--Fight Between
Wagga-Wagga and Tube-Tube Natives--Weapons--Return of _Juanita_
--Trip to Sud-Est--Sud-Est--Head Hunting--Schooner _Hygeia_
left for Rossel Island--Cannibalism 88
CHAPTER VI.
VOYAGE TO BISMARCK ARCHIPELAGO.
Return of _Seagull_ from Sud-Est--Capt. Ancell Killed--Native
Treachery--_Hygeia_ arrived China Straits--Left for East
Cape--Strange Looking Natives at Bentley Bay--Egum (Woodlarks)--
Tokaiakus the Dwarf--Trobriand Group--Met Cutter _Albatross_
--Trade with Natives--I go on Shore--Jurien Island--Waterspout, St.
George's Channel--Arrival at Mioko, Duke of York Islands 111
CHAPTER VII.
BISMARCK ARCHIPELAGO.
Mioko--Mr. H----'s Hospitality--Boat Race--Ralume, New Britain--
Mrs. F----'s Plantation--Native Markets in Blanche Bay--Mud
Throwing--Volcano--Picnic to Pigeon Island--Samoan Dance 151
CHAPTER VIII.
RETURN VOYAGE.
Left Ralume--St. George's Channel--Fate of Charles Hunstein--
Marquis de Ray's Expedition--Head Winds--Shot a Shark--Pilot
Fish--Lost two Buckets Overboard--Arrived Egum--Landed Dwarf--
Obtained large Turtle--Painted Boat--Arrived China Straits--
Christmas Eve 1888. 186
CHAPTER IX.
THE "TRIAL."
Diggers Sick with Fever--The Supreme Court--Reported Murder of S.
and W., Ferguson Island--Went in _Alice Meade_ to Rescue--Report
Untrue--Schooner _Myrtle_ dismasted--Went in _Juanita_ to
her assistance--Dawson Island--Brought _Myrtle_ into Port--Tide
Rips--Arrival of _Seagull_--Coffee Plantation on Mainland 203
CHAPTER X.
SOUTH COAST.
I Visit Aroma--Chief Koepina--Village of Hula--Port Moresby--Ascent
of Mount Owen Stanley--Sir William MacGregor--Murder of Two White
Men at Cloudy Bay 235
CHAPTER XI.
CONCLUSION.
Coastal Formation--Animals &c.--Climate--Population--Products,
Present and Future--Native Labour 263
APPENDIX.
Vocabulary of Language 283
TWO YEARS AMONG
THE
SAVAGES OF NEW GUINEA.
INTRODUCTION.
NORTH QUEENSLAND.
About seven years ago, when living in South Queensland, I happened to
come across a small book on New Guinea, which I devoured with great
appetite; so much so that I determined, some time or another, to visit
that little-known country, with its interesting savage inhabitants.
Two years afterwards I found my way up to Cooktown, North Queensland,
which is situated immediately opposite the shores of New Guinea.
I remained in the Cook district for two years, previous to embarking
for the home of the Papuans.
Before taking the reader over with me, let me introduce him to
Cooktown, which is a fair type of a Northern Colonial Township.
Cooktown is situated on the Endeavour River in lat. 15 deg. 30' south, and
long. 145 deg. east.
It derives its name from the immortal Captain Cook, who visited the
site on which it stands in or about the year 1770, and beached his
vessel, named the _Endeavour_, on the north shore, which is on the
opposite side of the harbour to the town.
The vessel had sprung a leak, so Captain Cook chose a suitable spot
where there was little surf, in order to make the necessary repairs.
How different was its appearance from that of the present time. Then,
everything was in its primeval state. Crowds of savages lined the
north shore, and interfered with Captain Cook's men in their work. The
sailors had often to keep them back by force of arms.
Even at the present day, blacks are living there, but their numbers are
sadly reduced.
Occasionally the monotony of their existence is varied by fights with
the Normanby River blacks, who are more warlike and numerous, and who
periodically make raids on them. Spears are then to be seen flying in
all directions, and after several days' severe fighting, in which one
or two are killed, and maybe one or two wounded, peace is once more
restored, and the belligerent party returns to its river haunts.
The blacks of North Queensland are, without exception, the lowest type
of humanity on the face of the earth.
They are almost on a level with the brute creation. They are naturally
very lazy, and it is only the pangs of hunger that induce them to make
any exertion to procure food.
They are treacherous in the extreme; their principal occupation appears
to consist in spearing the white man's cattle, and, when possible, the
white man himself.
They are as dangerous as snakes in the grass, and, like them, should be
trodden under foot.
They practise no cultivation of the soil, and are even too lazy to
build houses to shelter them from the winds and heavy rains.
They just throw two or three branches of trees together, and crawl
underneath.
Like the pestilential fever before the advance of settlement and
civilization, they have to retire. They are fast approaching
extinction, and in a century hence, one of the race will be an admired
curiosity, if his existence is not already a memory.
The Endeavour is a tortuous river, and navigable for vessels of three
or four feet draught for over 20 miles, after which it becomes a
narrow, shallow stream.
The banks are lined with mangrove trees; beyond is a beautiful scrub,
backed by mountains, with the Pacific Ocean glistening in the distance.
It is a pretty river. Every few miles you come upon a settler's
homestead smiling with cultivated fields and orchards, where all kinds
of tropical fruits are grown, such as the mangot, granddilla, banana,
pine-apple, lemons, oranges, pomegranates, paw-paws, etc. Small herds
of cattle are to be seen grazing in the bush, and there is the lovely
tropical bush itself, with its variegated colours, whose silence is
broken only by the mournful cry of the curlew or the peculiar weird
note of the mopawk.
When sunset approaches, the beauty and tranquillity of the scene are
enhanced by the exquisite tints thrown on mountain, scrub and sea.
There is no twilight here. It is dark immediately after the sun has
set, so there is little time to drink in the glories of the departing
day.
To a stranger, the township has a peculiar appearance. It consists
mainly of one long straggling street, viz., Charlotte Street, and all
the houses are wooden, with roofs of corrugated iron. This, to my
mind, gives to the buildings a very ugly appearance, to say nothing of
the great heat engendered thereby. The shops, or "stores" as they are
called, are tumble-down poky affairs. The principal and best buildings
are the hotels and public-houses, of which there are many--about one to
every 100 inhabitants.
The town has a municipality and Mayor, who is elected once a year.
There is a police magistrate, who presides at the court, and who is
generally looked upon as the leading man of the place, a police
inspector and the usual Government officials, C. P. S., land agent,
etc.
There are good wharves, under the control of the municipality, also a
very good harbour; the channel is well-marked by buoys and two leading
lights, as there are many sandbanks, and occasionally the sand silts up
in the channel, but a few months' dredging soon puts things to rights.
Vessels drawing 16 feet, moor alongside the wharves, and as Cooktown is
the principal port of call for the north, and for English and China
mail steamers, the shipping is of considerable importance; in fact,
take the shipping away from the place, and little remains.
The town came into existence in 1873, only 17 years ago, and so short a
life explains its present condition.
Large gold discoveries were made in the Palmer district, about 150
miles up country, to which flocked thousands of miners, and from which
millions of ounces of gold were extracted.
This gave birth to Cooktown, as it was the nearest port to the
diggings.
At that time there were only two or three tents in the place, but the
Palmer diggings soon altered this state of affairs.
Wooden and iron buildings were hastily thrown up, teams of bullocks and
pack-horses were all day long leaving for the Palmer district with
heavy loadings of provisions, etc.
The rates of carriage were enormous, as much as L30 a ton being
charged.
At times flour was dearer than gold.
This great activity and bustle gave to the town a tremendous impetus,
the effects of which are still visible.
The Palmer diggings are now deserted, as they are said to be
unworkable.
Of course many made their fortunes at the time of the great rush, and
many likewise spent a fortune. Naturally, as in all great gold-fields,
numbers were disappointed, lost what little they had, were
unsuccessful, and left the place disgusted, swearing they would never
attempt digging again.
Talking of the vicissitudes of gold-digging, reminds me of the strange
career of Frank Stubley, whom I met in Queensland.
He was one of fortune's favourites. He was a hardworking miner in a
gold claim at Gympie, one of the most permanent reefing fields in
Queensland. He was working on wages, receiving about L3 10_s._ per
week, that being the usual rate of pay. He saved a few pounds and
invested them in a small interest in the claim in which he worked, and
in one or two adjoining. Fortune smiled on him. Everything he put into
turned out trumps. His shares rose tremendously in value, and in a
short time he developed from a working man into one of the wealthiest
capitalists of the colony.
He, by pure luck, found himself possessed of the immense sum of a
quarter of a million pounds sterling.
This, judiciously invested in Australia, meant an income of L20,000 per
annum for life.
What did he do with his wealth? Did he invest it judiciously? Nothing
of the kind. He determined to become a large landed proprietor, bought
two or three great estates, turned squatter, and purchased a number of
race-horses. He invited all his friends and old mates to champagne
suppers, took unto himself a wife of extravagant habits, who was a
great help to him in spending money, went before the electors of the
district as a candidate for parliamentary honours, and was returned as
member by an overwhelming majority. He took his seat in the house of
representatives at Brisbane, where, of course, his expenses were still
further increased. Everything for a time went merrily as a marriage
bell, but the day of reckoning was drawing near, and in the short
period of four years he had wasted his substance.
His land, race-horses, etc., were sold to pay his debts, and, from a
large capitalist, he once more became a working man.
Some friends subscribed sufficient funds to carry him to the Croydon
gold-field, which had recently "broken out" (1885).
There he determined once more to woo the fickle goddess of Fortune and,
with his proverbial good luck, retrieve his lost fortunes. But fate
decreed otherwise. I saw him on the day he left Cooktown by steamer
for Normanton, _en route_ to Croydon, wished him good-bye and good
luck.
He arrived safely in Normanton, stayed there a couple of days, and with
two or three of his mates started on the tramp to Croydon, 100 miles
distant.
Poor Frank Stubley, however, never reached his destination, as, before
he got half-way, he suddenly dropped down dead on the road, partly from
the terrible heat of the sun and partly, no doubt, from drinking too
heavily in Normanton.
Such was the sad end of a man who, owing to his many sterling
qualities, was a general favourite. To him good fortune proved a curse
instead of a blessing. "_Requiescat in Pace._"
The production of gold in Queensland during the last five years has
been greater than ever. This is owing partly to the discovery of new
rich fields, partly to the better working of old ones, to which
machinery has been applied, as, from the extension of railways, the
rates of carriage have been considerably reduced.
The Croydon Gold Field "broke out" in 1885, and from all appearances is
likely to prove permanent.
By far the most important mine yet discovered in Australia is the
celebrated Mount Morgan, a few miles from Rockhampton.
It might well be called the mountain of gold. It is the richest gold
mine in Australasia, and its resources are unlimited. It derives its
name from the original discoverer, Mr. William Morgan of Rockhampton.
It would not be out of place here to give a short account of its
origin.
A few years ago Mr. Morgan, a prospector, who was roaming over the
country in search of minerals, happened to be travelling through a
small selection of 640 acres owned by a workingman, who just managed to
eke out a living on it, the land being very poor. The selector, an
uneducated man and ignorant of geology, was busy carting stone in his
wheelbarrow. Mr. Morgan, being of an observant nature, took up one or
two pieces of it, examined them, and asked the owner where he had
obtained them, and of what use the stuff was. He pointed out to him a
hill where there were tons of the same material, and told him he was
building a fence with it. After a few more inquiries, Mr. Morgan went
on his way, taking with him a few specimens of the stone, which he sent
for assay, and shortly afterwards wrote to the selector asking him what
he would take for his property. He was only too glad to get rid of it,
worthless as the land seemed.
So the upshot of it was that Mr. Morgan bought the holding for about
L600. Had this man been an intelligent mineralogist he would not have
parted with it for L60,000, as the sequel will prove. The stone, which
he thought only fit for building walls, was very rich quartz. The hill,
or mountain, was in fact a golden one.
The transfer was duly made, and Mr. Hall, the manager of the Queensland
National Bank, Rockhampton, advanced the money required to carry on the
mining works, in consideration of a share or interest, and at the
present time both he and Mr. Morgan, together with several others
interested, are millionaires. The mine is practically inexhaustible and
the output returns are enormous. The further down they go, the richer
the ore proves. The mine is now worked by a large and powerful company,
the value of each L1 share being about L10. Whether Mr. Morgan and his
partners made the poor selector a handsome present I cannot say, but I
believe they did, if not they ought to have done so. Of course such a
rich prize provoked litigation, but Morgan's claim was too strong to be
overthrown. The total value of the mine may be stated at L10,000,000.
It is without doubt the most extraordinary mine in all Australasia.
The country for miles round Cooktown is stanniferous. From the Annan
River, four miles beyond Cooktown, as far as Herberton, the strata
are continuous, with breaks here and there. The principal tin claims
are at Mount Romeo and the Tableland, some 40 miles distant, and also
in the Bloomfield. About three years ago I visited several of the
claims at Mount Romeo, many of which were doing very well, turning
out several tons a week. The tin assayed from 70 to 75 per cent. of
pure ore, and at that time was worth about 18_s._ a unit. The
standard is 70 per cent., and for every unit above 70 per cent. the
value is threehalfpence per unit more, that is to say, the price of the
standard being 18_s._ per unit, if it assays 71 per cent. it is worth
18_s._ 1-1/2_d._ per unit, and so on. Some time after, owing to a
syndicate in Paris having monopolized the supply and obtained control
of the market, tin rose to an abnormal value. Whilst this fictitious
value held, the tin miners made a little fortune, but suddenly the
syndicate burst, tin dropped 50 per cent., and many were ruined. By
degrees, however, it regained its normal value or thereabouts, and at
the present time, with slight fluctuations, it stands at about L90 per
ton of pure ore. The supply, too, of late (within the Cook district at
least) has fallen considerably, though to make up for this several new
lodes have been discovered and, if systematically worked, will no doubt
turn out satisfactory to the promoters. Herberton is the principal
tin-mining centre in Queensland, as it has many permanent lodes,
whereas in the Cook district the claims are for the most part alluvial.
A rich tin claim is quite as valuable as a rich gold claim. The "stream
tin" is found in the beds or banks of streams or creeks, at a depth
varying from a few inches to several feet. Box drains are placed in the
creek, and the dirt is placed in them. A good sluice of water is
constantly brought to bear on it, and a fork or spade is continually at
work stamping it, to get rid of the loose stones and dirt. The heavy
matter of course remains at the bottom of the sluice box, and is
afterwards cleaned and put through two sieves and dried in the sun. It
is then put in sacks, after which it is packed in flour bags ready for
the packer and his mules to take away to the port of Cooktown, whence
it is shipped by steamer to Sydney for sale. Of course a great quantity
is sold on the field to the merchants and storekeepers of the town,
who, in some instances, send their own teams of pack-horses to cart it
away. They also supply the miners with provisions and all requisites,
such as tools, and by their stores, erected on the field, often make a
rattling good thing out of the tin-miner. The latter is proverbially a
hard worker, and when he has made "a big cheque" he goes into town with
his mates for a spell, and spends it "like a man," which means that he
never sees daylight until all his hard-won earnings are in the till of
the publican. He then returns to his claim a poorer, but seldom a
wiser, man, as he will, in all probability, repeat the debauch a few
months afterwards. It is no use talking to him about the virtue of
thrift, and the follies of a spendthrift, as it is his idea of "life,"
and he would enjoy no other. He prefers to live modestly, and work hard
for six months, and then to come into town and live at the rate of
L1,000 a year for a fortnight. "_Chacun a son gout._" It pleases
him and hurts no one else, so why carp at him? Take him as a whole, he
is a genial, good-hearted man, hail fellow, well met, rough in
exterior, but true at heart. Though he knows how to swear and to drink,
he is free from mean vices, and we must remember that he has never
known refinement of manners or thought. I like his rough ways and his
honest character, and I take him just as he is, with all his faults,
which in many instances are but the cloak of hidden virtues.
* * * * *
Sugar growing has always been an important industry in Queensland, and
was most profitable, but if the Government carry out their present
intention of prohibiting the importation of Kanaka labour, the above
industry will be crushed, and the immense capital sunk in mills and
machinery will be irretrievably lost. In North Queensland the climate
is very hot, and it is impossible for white men to work in the fields,
cutting the cane, also the high rate of wages that would have to be
paid them would take away most of the planter's profits. It must be
borne in mind that the capital necessary to erect a sugar mill and
plant, and to work a plantation properly, is very great, and naturally
the planters expect to receive a fair return for their enormous outlay.
Taking these facts into consideration, I consider the policy of the
Government in prohibiting black labour to be suicidal and foolish. In
the Cook District there are only two sugar plantations, the Weary Bay
Company's and Messrs. Hislops' of Wyalla, both in the Bloomfield
District. The Weary Bay has turned out some very high-class sugar, but
has been unfortunate in its management. Twelve months ago it was
closed, owing to some financial difficulty, but I heard that it was
intended to work it again. The scenery on the Bloomfield River is
superb. It is thoroughly tropical. Dense scrubs reach close to the
bank's edge, and the bush is filled with the most beautiful orchids,
which, when in full flower, is a sight never to be forgotten. The
ferns, too, are many, and of varied species, and the clearings are
covered with the succulent cane, and circling the plain stand
precipitous mountains, notably Stuckey's Gap; whilst from a gentle rise
can be seen, over the tops of the dense scrub, the broad and undulating
bosom of the Pacific Ocean. These scrubs are rather dangerous in wet
weather, as then the numerous creeks become flooded and are unfordable,
and sometimes the traveller is unwillingly made a prisoner, or has to
run the risk of crossing a swollen stream. Another danger is that of
getting lost in the bush, which is a very simple matter, but a very
difficult one to get out of. Many a good bushman even has been lost in
the trackless forest, where his bones have suggested a terrible story
of death by hunger or thirst. The bush has, indeed, furnished many a
sad tale of woe. In some instances men have gone mad from despair,
having given up all hope of extricating themselves from the trap.
Some years ago a great friend of mine, Bob S----n, went through some
terrible experiences. He was a thoroughly experienced bushman and a
well-educated man, and to listen to his thrilling yarns of peril and
adventure by sea and by land was a never-ending source of pleasure. Of
all the good fellows I have ever met, he was, without doubt, one of the
most entertaining and pleasant of companions. The particular story to
be related is this. He started with a small party of men, equipped with
tents and all the necessary supplies of provisions, which were carried
on pack-horses, on an expedition for the purpose of finding new country
that would be suitable for carrying stock, _i.e._ cattle. They
travelled about 400 miles west from Cooktown, pitched their camp and
were fortunate in finding some good-looking country. Bob S----n went
some distance away from the camp, and on returning in the evening, to
his great astonishment found his friends had struck their tents and
left. He now realized that he was deserted 400 miles from civilization,
alone in the pathless bush, the home of wild and treacherous blacks,
with nothing to protect him but a revolver, and without a morsel of
food.
Fortunately he was an experienced bushman, and a plucky fellow to boot,
or he would never have survived the awful ordeal. There was nothing
else for it but to face the inevitable, so he started on his weary
journey, often suffering the fearful pangs of hunger. Now and then he
managed to get a few berries to eat, and water to drink, and so day
after day, weak from privation, without a covering at night, save the
trees overhead, he wearily jogged along. One morning at sunrise as he
was descending a rise, to his dismay, about 50 yards beneath him, he
saw a large camp of blacks. One of them had just risen, and was
stretching himself immediately facing him. The black fellow was equally
taken aback, but before he could recover from his surprise, Bob S----n,
with two or three piercing shouts, rushed into the camp, firing his
revolver. The blacks, evidently thinking that there was a large force
behind, took to ignominious flight across the river. This plucky
conduct saved him.
Some more days' suffering, and, on the eleventh day out, he sank to the
ground faint and exhausted, unable to move. He was, although he knew it
not, within a short distance of a cattle station, where, luckily, one
of the stockmen, who was out riding, stumbled across him, brought him
to the homestead, where he received every care and attention, and
eventually quite recovered his health and strength.
Had he not been a strong and hardy man he would assuredly have
perished.
* * * * *
On one occasion I, together with five others, left the port of
Cooktown in a small cutter at midnight, for the purpose of fishing at
D Reef. The night was fine, a fresh breeze had sprung up, and the
boat sped merrily on her way. Three of the party, however, succumbed
to seasickness, which interfered greatly with the sport, and after
remaining at anchor for some time without enticing any fish to leave
their native element, we hoisted sail and ran for the harbour, about
eight miles distant, to the great relief of the sick mariners. We
then went for a cruise up the Endeavour River, landing on the right
hand bank. The boat here grounded, and, as it would be impossible to
get her off until the evening tide, I and two others of the party
determined to leave the boat and work our way through the mangroves
to St. Patrick's Creek, where we could hail a boat to ferry us across
and take us on to Cooktown. But "_L'homme propose et le Dieu
dispose_" was exemplified in this instance. We started without food
or water, taking a single-barrelled gun in the event of meeting with
any hostile or hungry natives. The fateful start was made at 1 p.m.,
and after tearing through the dense and sickly mangroves for some
miles, with a burning sun overhead, and the miasma rising from the
ground beneath, it was found impossible to break the barrier of
mangroves which stood in front of us like a wall. After bruising our
heads against the cruel trees, we retraced our steps, and after going
some distance one of us ascended a tree to take bearings, when crash,
crash, down came the tree with its living burden, who received a severe
shaking, but was not much the worse for his mishap. After some more of
this delightful travelling, with our hands and feet cut and bruised,
and darkness beginning to creep round the horizon, we turned our backs
on the fetid spot, and were fortunate in coming out upon a plain or
flat, covered with grass and timber. Following this up we reached the
river bank. Our thirst was burning. There was "water, water everywhere,
but not a drop to drink." It was quite salt. There was nothing else for
it, but to lie down on the grass and resign ourselves to our fate. The
night was clear and cool, the heavens above studded with countless
stars, and a light breeze played in the trees. Occasionally might be
heard the splash of an alligator as he glided from his slimy bed into
the cold and gruesome river.
The river at this point is full of these saurian monsters, seeking whom
they may devour. We did not light a fire, fearing lest the blacks, who
favour this camp, might pay us an evening call, as on these occasions
they are apt to be rather brusque in their manners. However, we boasted
one gun. There is always a day as well as a night, so at last dawn
appeared, looking with astonishment at the three recumbent figures on
the grass, as if wondering what on earth had brought us to this lonely
place. After breakfast, consisting of salt water and grass, we followed
the river up for a couple of miles thinking we should obtain fresh
water, but were doomed to disappointment. It was quite brackish.
Returning to our camp, with our thirst now raging, we held a
consultation, the result of which was that we decided to construct a
raft, capable of holding the three of us, on which we could drift down
the river, and effect a landing on the opposite bank, where a settler
named A---- lived. We had no appliances, so had to make the best shift
we could. We humped some big logs, which we found on the flat, to the
water's edge, placing them crosswise and lashing them together with our
shirts and handkerchiefs torn into strips, and when finished the raft
would only support one. D---- then bravely volunteered to navigate
this craft down the river to A----'s, although, as I said before, the
river here swarmed with alligators. We launched her a little after
noon, wishing our comrade _bon voyage_. Some hours afterwards we
heard a shot fired in the scrub some distance off, which we returned,
and after numerous interchanges of shots, a sergeant of police, with a
couple of black trackers, appeared on the scene, armed with a bottle of
brandy in one hand, and a bottle of water in the other. We hastily
emptied the contents of the latter, and did not neglect the former. We
then accompanied the police through the mangroves, to the creek where
they had moored their boat, and started for home. Our plucky mate had
already reached his destination in safety, having had to walk barefoot
six miles into town, had got a boat, and gone up the river to rescue
us. We went up the river to overtake him if possible, and eventually we
all met together at A----'s, where our jaded frames were regaled with a
substantial supper, after which we steered for home, reaching town a
little after 10 p.m., to the delight of our friends, lovers and
acquaintances. I will conclude by saying that it will be some time
before I again attempt to navigate my way through mangrove swamps,
unless well provided with the necessaries of life.
CHAPTER I.
THE VOYAGE.
In the year 1887, two months after the adventure spoken of in the
previous pages, hearing that Captain Matheson was in port, and that he
intended sailing for New Guinea in a few days, I went on board his
schooner; and knowing him to be an able seaman and a jolly good fellow,
I decided to go with him in his vessel, the _Spitfire_. The _Spitfire_
is a strongly built "fore and aft" schooner of 35 tons net register.
Besides this he had two small vessels, a cutter and a lugger, the
former in charge of a South Sea Islander, and the latter in charge of a
Queensland black. These comprised the entire fleet. The crew of the
schooner was made up of the captain, the mate (a white man), a South
Sea Islander, who acted as quartermaster, a cook (also a white man),
about 20 Queensland blacks, including three women, and myself, the
solitary passenger.
I put my traps--which were not many, as, like the Romans, I prefer to
travel free of "impedimenta"--on board, as I expected to make a start
on the following day. There was some delay, owing to the Customs
authorities, so we had to remain another day in port. I occupied my
spare time in bidding good-bye to many of my friends and comrades, and
they took leave of me as if they would never see me in the flesh again,
as so many had lately lost the number of their mess in New Guinea. At
last, to my great relief, the partings were over, for saying good-bye
in Northern Queensland is a very serious affair, as everyone is bent on
drinking your health, so with a slight headache, in company with the
skipper, I stepped into the dinghy which was in waiting for us at No. 1
wharf. We were rapidly rowed by two of the crew to the schooner, which
was moored to the buoy off the Pilot Jetty, anxiously waiting to slip
her cable.
Everything was made ready for a start, the "fore and aft" sails
hoisted, when Mr. W----, a friend of mine, and the chief officer of
Customs, boarded us, had a parting glass, wished us a safe voyage, and
then left for the shore. Soon after their departure, a breeze having
sprung up, the order was given to hoist the head sails, we cast off our
moorings, took a last look at the town where I had spent many a happy
day, and commenced our voyage to the land of cannibals and savages.
The clouds were dark and lowering, Mount Cook looked angry, and
everything presaged a blow. The wind was dead ahead, but the expected
blow did not come off. We were not long rounding Cape Bedford, twelve
miles to the N.E., but, as the day was well advanced, we knew that with
the present wind we should be unable to get through the great Barrier
before dark. We therefore determined to anchor at a sandbank, for to
attempt to make the passage through the "Lark" opening in the dark
would be the height of madness, as the passage is very narrow, and from
the sandbank to the Barrier is one mass of coral reefs. We managed to
reach our anchorage by sundown, and enjoyed what sailors call a
"Farmer's" night. We had no work to do, as our two small craft were
safe at anchor close to us. We spent the evening at a quiet game of
cards (there being just four of us, the skipper, mate, cook and I) and
in spinning yarns. Then, after a nightcap of rum, we turned into our
bunks until daylight should appear. The captain, a Scotchman, was one
of the most generous-hearted, upright men that I have ever come across,
and every inch a sailor. The mate, too, was a first-rate fellow, and
had been to New Guinea on a fishing cruise some years before; the cook,
who hailed from the land of the shamrock, was full of fun, and an
excellent comic singer, but a little too fond of the rum bottle; whilst
I had the distinction of being the only passenger. Captain Matheson had
already made a trip to New Guinea.
On this occasion he left his mate with some of the crew--blacks of
Queensland--on an island, to superintend the curing of fish
(Beche-de-mer) and went to an island further away. On his return he
found that his mate had been cruelly murdered that very day, only a few
hours previous to his arrival. He immediately went ashore, surrounded
the men, and with some difficulty captured four of the ringleaders and
brought them in his schooner to Cooktown, where they were afterwards
tried and, I regret to say, discharged, notwithstanding that one of
them openly declared that he had killed the murdered man.
We were upon deck at daylight, weighed anchor, and steered our course
for the Barrier. After a good deal of tacking, the wind being still
ahead, we entered the "Lark" passage, and after beating about for
several hours, just managed to clear it before dark, otherwise we
should have been obliged to "'bout" ship and anchor inside for the
night.
The Great Queensland Barrier Reef is a wonderful sight. It extends for
several hundred miles, with narrow openings here and there, and at low
tide the upper part of it is quite bare.
From the deck of a vessel, with the sun shining on it the white coral
sparkles like crystal, and you cannot but marvel at the wonderful
industry and workmanship of the countless millions of insects that have
built up this gigantic sea-wall. Numerous vessels come here for the
purpose of obtaining the valuable Beche-de-mer, whose habitat is on
this Barrier. We were now properly out at sea, as we had entered the
Pacific Ocean, with its long sweeping roll. The sea was not very rough,
but being the first night out I felt a little qualmish. It soon passed
away, however, and I settled down to a life on the ocean wave.
We made good way, steering a direct course for the S.E. end of the
Osprey Reef, which lies in mid-ocean, about 80 miles from the Barrier.
It is 15 miles long, and woe betide the vessel that is stranded there,
as she would speedily break up. It is a most dangerous reef, and not
very well surveyed. In the year 1886, the steamer _Papua_, belonging to
the German New Guinea Company, and laden with a heavy cargo, ran foul
of it on the N.E. end, and soon became a total wreck, but all the crew
managed to escape in the whale boats, nothing being saved except a few
compasses.
The next day, owing to the wind being unfavourable, our run was a very
poor one. We took the sun at 8 a.m., and at 12 noon, when I spent some
of my time in trying to work out our position. I covered several sheets
of foolscap with figures, but even then I did not come out right. What
with cards, spinning yarns, and taking a turn at steering, the time
passed rapidly away, and ere I was aware of it, supper was announced.
The weather being very mild, for we were getting into warmer latitudes,
we had all our meals on deck. Having finished supper, comprising the
inevitable dry hash, we filled our pipes, and under the soothing
influence of a tropical night, free from all care and trouble, lent
ourselves to the enjoyment of the hour. There is nothing to my mind
more intoxicating than being on a well-found vessel, with a spanking
breeze, surrounded by the boundless ocean, and enjoying the
companionship of jovial fellows. I turned into my bunk after the
customary nightcap of rum, and soon fell asleep. "To sleep, perchance
to dream." Dream I did, and the dream with its attendant circumstances
was one of the most curious coincidences that has ever happened to me.
I dreamt that I was on the top of a high cliff. I had an album with me,
which I threw over the cliff to the ground beneath. I tried to find a
good way to descend, and at one part I noticed a rudely-constructed
ladder attached to the top of the cliff, and reaching nearly to the
ground. I stepped on to the ladder, intending to descend, but, not
liking the look of it, stepped back, walked a short distance along the
cliff, when my dream came to an abrupt end. I still slept on, not
awaking until 7 a.m., in time for my cup of coffee. The dream was
vivid, and in the morning the impression of it was as clear as on the
night before.
Now for the coincidence.
I afterwards learned that at 2 a.m., still asleep, I had risen from my
bunk, gone up on deck, strode over a seaman's chest, and walked along
the deck until I reached the ratlins, then stepped on to them and was
about to jump into the sea. Something or other stopped me, I then
walked along the deck the same way I had come, stepped down to the
cabin and lay down on my bunk. The captain, who slept on deck, noticed
me coming up, but never thought for a moment that I was asleep, or he
would have followed me. I have never practised somnambulism before or
since. It is very strange, but not the less true, that anyone walking
in his sleep seldom comes to harm. How is this I wonder? We had a good
laugh over my adventure, which I put down to the rum and a disordered
stomach.
The following night, about 10 p.m., the moon shining bright, we
calculated that we ought to be somewhere near the Osprey Reef, when
suddenly the mate, who was forward, sung out, "Breakers ahead!" It is
anything but a welcome cry. The captain, fearing that we might be out
of our course and dangerously near the dreaded Osprey, flew to the
tiller, quickly put the helm hard down, and put the ship about. It
turned out to be an hallucination. The moon shining on the sea gave it
the appearance of broken water. The scare was soon over, and we went on
our way rejoicing. We did not sight the Osprey Reef, but must have
passed about 10 miles to windward of it. We had several days' calms,
the sun burning like fire. It was almost impossible to find a shady
spot. Down below it was very close, and upon deck very hot. We had a
succession of head winds, which greatly retarded our progress. So the
days went by until, on the morning of the ninth day out, we sighted the
shores of New Guinea. We were 40 miles from Orangerie Bay, with its
mountains of Alpine height towering away in the distance. What a relief
to sight land after tossing for days on the ocean! By evening we were
within a stone's throw of the mainland. The coast here is most
interesting, very bold and broken, range after range of mountains
covered with scrub, and here and there picturesque grassy islands,
making a pleasant contrast to the dark foliage of the mainland bush. We
had a long beat before us, as we were a good deal to leeward of our
destination. We kept well within sight of land the whole way from this
point, of which I was very glad, as it gave me an opportunity of
observing the coastal formation. Every now and then we hove the
schooner to, in order to enable our convoy, the lugger, to come up with
us, when we filled up their water-casks and replenished their stock of
provisions. The cutter had disappeared, and we did not see her again
until we came to our anchorage in China Straits. We were not very
anxious about her, as the South Sea Islander in charge was an
experienced hand in a boat, and was sure to turn up some time or other.
The next day we passed close to the Brumer Islands (native name
"Banaroa"). We did not stop, although Capt. Matheson wanted to get a
number of the natives to go with him on a fishing cruise to the East
End. The cutter, however, touched there and was successful in obtaining
about 15 natives. The Banaroa people are good workers and of a friendly
disposition.
This group of islands lies about 10 miles from the mainland, and they
are very beautiful. There are most fertile plantations of yams,
bananas, and coco-nuts, with here and there a bright patch of green. I
should think that these islands would be very healthy, as they are free
from swamps and not too much covered with scrub.
I was very much pleased with their appearance, and should not object to
a prolonged residence on them.
As darkness set in the Brumers had been left many miles astern. When
within a few miles of Heath Island (Loger), which is a boundary of
China Straits, to our disgust the wind entirely died away, and we were
left to loll and roll about all night. We seemed destined never to
reach port. This was the eleventh day of a voyage (in a straight
course) of 430 miles.
The day previous we passed close to the schooner _Harrier_, in
full sail with a fair wind, bound for Queensland. We saluted and
exchanged compliments. Having passed a restless night, we once more
steered for China Straits. When off the north-western point of Heath
Island (Loger) we were boarded by two or three canoes, filled with
natives, their faces painted in various colours, and all having large
mops of hair on their heads. They wore no clothing save a banana leaf
round the loins. This was my first introduction to the Papuan race, and
I must confess that they had a most diabolical appearance. Several of
them came on board, where they kept up an incessant chatter.
The passage between Heath Island and the mainland, known as the Western
Passage, is rather narrow. Coral reefs extend a good distance out, so
that it is necessary to hug the shore of Heath Island. The tide too is
very swift here, rushing at the rate of five to six miles an hour,
making it impossible to stem it without the aid of a strong breeze.
Everything has an end, so at last we rounded the point of Heath Island
and entered the charming and romantic harbour of China Straits.
We dropped our mud-hook just about sundown in ten fathoms of water on
the lee side of the Island of Samarai, having been 12 long days on the
voyage.
CHAPTER II.
THE GOVERNMENT.
Before setting foot on Samarai I may as well give you some idea of the
extent of New Guinea, and of how a portion of it became a British
possession.
Looking upon Australia as a vast continent, New Guinea, or as it is
sometimes called "Papua," is the largest island in the world, having a
total length of 1,500 miles by 450 at its widest part. It has an area
of 310,000 square miles or more than twice the size of the United
Kingdom. The coast runs as nearly as possible W.N.W., and E.S.E.
Although New Guinea is in close proximity to Queensland, being only 400
miles distant from the port of Cooktown, until recently little was
known about it, and even at the present time our information is very
scanty.
It might well be called, the "Dark Continent," as no white man has, as
yet, crossed it. The coast for a considerable distance is fairly, but
not completely, well-known.
In 1873, Captain Moresby, in H.M.S. _Basilisk_, sailed round the
islands and along part of the coast, naming numerous islands after the
ship and her officers. He discovered the splendid harbours of China
Straits on the South East, and Port Moresby ("Hanuabada") on the South
Coast, which latter is at the present time the headquarters of the
London Missionary Society and of the Government. He also made a flying
survey, which was of necessity far from correct, but which proved of
great service to later surveyors.
In the year 1883 Sir Thomas McIlwraith, then Premier of Queensland, on
behalf of his Government, annexed the whole of New Guinea, thus hoping
to exclude the Germans. He had previously urged the Home Government to
do this, but they remained inactive. Upon learning what had been done,
the Home authorities emphatically refused to sanction it, but in the
following year, 1884, on their own behalf established a Protectorate
over that portion extending from latitude 5 to 10-1/2 deg. S. and longitude
141 to 151 deg. E., comprising 89,000 square miles, the Germans having
occupied the territory to the North, containing 71,000 square miles,
whilst the Dutch territory, which lies to the N.W., and has been held
by them for upwards of 25 years, contains 150,000 square miles; an area
equal to the British and German portions combined. The Proclamation
took place on the 6th of November 1884, at Port Moresby, where the
British flag was hoisted and the British men-of-war, five in number,
saluted.
The formal declaration was then read in the following terms:--
"To all to whom these presents shall come greeting:--Whereas, it has
become essential for the lives and properties of the native inhabitants
of New Guinea, and for the purpose of preventing the occupation of
portions of that country by persons whose proceedings, unsanctioned by
any lawful authority, might tend to injustice, strife and bloodshed,
and who, under the pretence of legitimate trade and intercourse might
endanger the liberties, and possess themselves of the lands, of such
native inhabitants, that a British protectorate should be established
over a certain portion of such country, and the islands adjacent
thereto; and whereas Her Majesty, having taken into her gracious
consideration the urgent necessity of her protection to such
inhabitants, has directed me to proclaim such protection in a formal
manner, at this place, now I, James Elphinstone Erskine, Captain in the
Royal Navy, and Commodore of the Australian Station, one of Her
Majesty's naval aides-de-camp, do hereby, in the name of Her Most
Gracious Majesty, declare and proclaim the establishment of such
protectorate over such portions of the coast and the adjacent islands
as are more particularly described in the schedule hereunto annexed,
and I hereby proclaim and declare that no acquisition of land,
whensoever or howsoever acquired, within the limits of the protectorate
hereby established, will be recognized by Her Majesty; and I do hereby,
on behalf of Her Majesty, command and enjoin all persons whom it may
concern to take notice of this proclamation:
"SCHEDULE.
"All that portion of the southern shores of New Guinea, commencing
from the boundary of that portion of the country claimed by the
Government of the Netherlands on the 141st meridian of east
longitude to East Cape, with all the islands adjacent thereto south
of East Cape to Kosmann Island inclusive, together with the islands
in the Goschen Straits.
"Given on board Her Majesty's ship _Nelson_ at the harbour of
Port Moresby on the 6th day of November, 1884."
Sir Peter Scratchley, a distinguished military officer, was appointed
special commissioner. He chartered the steamer _Governor Blackall_, and
with a large staff visited his new district, travelling along the coast
for a considerable distance, touching here and there and interviewing
several of the native chiefs. His term of office was, however, fated to
be a short one, as in three months after his appointment, when off
Mitre Rock, which is the extreme northern boundary, he contracted the
dreaded malaria. He immediately ordered the steamer to return to
Queensland, and the day after the vessel left Cooktown, died on board.
The Hon. John Douglas, resident magistrate of Thursday Island, was
appointed his successor, and ruled quietly and unobtrusively for over
three years.
The country, meanwhile, was not developed in any way; the expenses of
the Protectorate were considerable, when, as luck would have it,
payable gold was discovered in July, 1888, on Sud-Est, an island in the
Louisiade Archipelago (British New Guinea). Hereby hangs a tale, of
which I shall speak in another chapter.
This discovery caused the Home Government to create New Guinea a
British possession, which was declared at Port Moresby on September
6th, 1888, and an administrator, now Sir Wm. Macgregor, was appointed.
A high tariff was at once imposed on all imports, which revenue came as
a godsend to the impoverished state of the New Guinea funds. Such is a
brief outline of our early administration of the country.
* * * * *
Early the next morning, having said good-bye to the genial skipper of
the _Spitfire_, I took myself and belongings on shore, as I intended to
make Samarai my headquarters.
Samarai is a small but picturesque island containing about 60 acres,
situated in China Straits, which is the loveliest and most
romantic-looking harbour I have ever seen. The island has a beautiful
grove of coco-nut trees, with curious-looking hills on the S.E. or
weather side. They look as if they had at some period subsided, leaving
their tops only visible.
There is a fine coral beach running along the north-west or lee side of
the island and facing the mainland, one and a half miles distant. There
is a swamp of seven acres in the middle, the home of malarial fever,
thus making this island one of the most unhealthy spots in New Guinea.
A government agent is located there and has charge of the customs. In
the time of the Protectorate, a large wooden bungalow was built on the
top of the highest hill by Rooney & Co., of Townsville, costing the sum
of L900. About 60 natives lived on the island, which had been their
home for many years. In August, 1888, just previous to the acquisition
of New Guinea as a British possession, they were all driven away, or
euphemistically got notice to quit. In lieu thereof, they were offered
the island of "Quato," situated in China Straits, which had been
purchased from the natives by the Protectorate some time previous. The
natives were naturally incensed at being thus rudely driven from their
island home, where they had lived for so many years, and refused to
emigrate to "Quato." Some went to their friends at Heath Island
(Loger), some to "Sariba," in China Straits. I consider their case a
hard one, and the act of the Government unwarrantable. What on earth
did the Government require "Samarai" as a station for when they had the
choice of islands in the immediate vicinity, in the same harbour,
islands far healthier, with good anchorages, well sheltered, and with
no natives, or may be only one or two, living on them?
Why, for instance, did they not select "Quato," which belonged to them
and is far healthier, or Coast Island, which is free from swamps and
has an excellent anchorage, perfectly sheltered and close to the
mainland? Verily the ways of a Government are inscrutable! As it is,
they engender bitterness and hatred in the breasts of the evicted
natives, the very thing they should study to avoid.
From conversations I have had with several of the natives on the
subject, I find that they feel very sore on the matter. They will never
forget it, and would retaliate, but know that they are powerless to
act.
How would a European feel if he were suddenly driven away from his
homestead, where his parents had died and his children been born, for
no other reason than that some foreigner required it, and by way of
compensation offered to him an alien piece of land, where he would have
to rebuild his houses and make fresh plantations? It must not be
forgotten that savages have as much love for their bit of ground as the
proudest aristocrat in England has for his lordly acres. I will give an
instance of this mistaken policy. Two months after these evictions, two
friends of mine and I had occasion to go on a vessel to the adjoining
island of Sariba, in order to get our water casks filled. We landed in
the dinghy, taking with us a couple of casks, and requested the natives
to take them to the creek and fill them. Before doing so, they had a
talk amongst themselves, when we overheard them say, "Why should we do
anything for the white men when we have been treated in such a shameful
manner?" However, some of them said, "Well, these we have known some
time, and they have always been friendly to us, have never done us any
harm, let us not be ungrateful, but fill their water casks," and so
they did. We made no remark, paid them in tobacco and got our casks on
board, but it showed us very plainly the effect of the foolish policy
of the Government. Had we not been on good terms with these natives, we
should have had to go elsewhere for our water.
To represent the beauties of China Straits in keeping with its
surroundings, requires the brush of an artist or the language of a
poet. Although I am unable to do justice to it, I will attempt to bring
the scene before the mind of the reader. There are four passages to the
harbour, one on the east, west, south-east, and north-west
respectively. The main coast is bold and rugged in outline, with a
series of high ranges covered with dense scrub, with here and there the
face of a hill cleared by the natives for yam cultivation. The shore is
lined with coco-nut palms, native houses peeping between the trees.
Between the steep and lofty mountains small creeks work their way. A
coral reef extends some distance from the shore, making it impossible
to anchor close in, as you have the full force of the south-east trade
winds, save abreast of a creek opposite Coast Island, the mouth of
which is almost hidden by mangrove bushes. On the western side the
harbour is protected by the island of "Loger," a large island, thickly
populated, running south-east and north-west, and extending to within a
mile of the mainland. Close to "Loger" is the island of Quato of 200
acres, for the most part flat, but with rising ground to the
south-east. There is a good channel between these islands where vessels
of any tonnage could anchor, but a little exposed to the south-east
winds. On the eastern side is the Island of Sariba, strikingly
picturesque. On it rises a very high hill with a conical summit and
covered with patches of long grass. There are numerous villages, and
the natives living here are first-rate workers in clearing scrub and
building houses. The south-eastern side is bounded by the Island of
Samarai, so that the harbour is enclosed, as it were, by four walls.
There is plenty of deep water all over the harbour, and vessels of any
draught are able to anchor within a hundred yards of the shore. There
is a small island in the middle of the harbour, known as Middle Island,
and close to the coast is Coast Island, both covered with the coco palm
and very fertile. In the far distance, to the north-east, 50 miles
away, the lofty mountains of Normanby Island ("Duau") are visible, and
on a clear day they appear quite close; when this is so, you may expect
the wind from the north-east. Opposite Coast Island a creek runs for
about a mile inland, where there is a small village. The creek is
navigable for small boats only. The land beyond the village is thickly
timbered and of good quality, and in my opinion would be suitable for
cultivation. The rainfall, however, is very great, owing to the
numerous ranges of hills in the neighbourhood. The harbour extends for
five miles as far as South Foreland, after rounding which you enter the
splendid bay named Milne Bay. I have seen the Harbour of Sydney and
also of Cork, but whether its own beauty is considered or its
environment of mountain, hill, dale and sea, dotted with the most
romantic-looking coral isles, China Straits must take the palm. No
artist could paint it in nature's colours. The scene is ideal. The
purple haze of the distant mountains, the delicate blendings of colour
in the tropical bush, the bright coral sparkling in the sun, the sombre
colour of the natives, all are in perfect harmony, and notwithstanding
the rugged appearance of the coast the whole scene inspires a deep
sense of rest. I have so often, in company with my pipe, sat on my
verandah in the silvery moonlight and gazed on that picture of tropical
peace and plenty, that the impressions of it are indelibly imprinted on
my memory.
* * * * *
I took up my abode with a trader named K----, who had been settled in
the district nearly two years. As the house in which we lived was very
hot, and by no means healthy, the idea suggested itself to us to build
a native house in the sea. In some parts of New Guinea, as at "Hula,"
for instance, on the south coast, the whole town is built in the sea as
a safeguard against their enemies, the bush tribes, of whom the coastal
natives are in mortal dread. Having decided to emulate their example,
we interviewed two chiefs of Sariba, Peter and Silliweddo.
We told them that we required a native house built in the sea,
instructed them to get plenty of natives and start the work at once.
Before going further we had to settle the price that was to be paid.
The house, I may say, cost about L4 10_s._, paid for in articles of
"trade." The two chiefs received a little more than the labourers and
did not work, merely superintending the erection, that is to say,
smoked clay pipes and chewed betel-nuts. As a proof of the native
intelligence, the following facts will speak for themselves:
I drew on the beach a rough ground-plan of the house, showing the
length and breadth, the divisions of rooms and the two verandahs.
Peter, the native chief of Sariba, who was present, measured the plan
with a piece of cane, marking the length and breadth, rolled it up and
put it in his "pocket"--I mean in his "dilly-bag"--for of course
natives are not provided with pockets. He went home to his island, and
in a few days came back with several large canoes with all the
necessary logs, timber, &c., lashed to them, also the sago palm-leaves
for the roofing, cane for splitting into laths, and when the house was
finished there was very little material left. How he managed to
calculate it so nicely I cannot say, but of course he had had
considerable experience in building native houses. The roof of our
house was loftier than the ordinary native one, but built of the same
material. There was not a single nail used in the building. It was
built in the sea in about four feet of water at low tide on the sea
side, and on the shore side connected with the beach by a gangway. They
have a curious way of driving the piles. We gave them a rope, which
they fixed round the head of the pile, leaving two ends dangling.
Several natives get hold of one end and several of the other, pulling
alternately, until the pile is worked down to the required depth. The
piles are made of white mangrove--a strong wood, and not too heavy. In
order to prevent the ravages of the cobra insect, which in salt water
will work its way into blood-wood even, it is best to tar the piles
well, and better still--though very expensive--to copper them all over.
The flooring is made of "matu," a kind of cane which is plentiful on
the mainland, the walls of the bark or skin of the palm, and the roof
of the leaves of the sago palm, which have to be put on separately, the
leaves over-lapping a little, and on the outside some branches of the
coco-nut palm are placed. A house of this kind is quite rain-proof, and
if well-constructed will keep in good condition for at least two years.
For health and coolness, a house built of native material cannot be
beaten, and it has the additional advantage of cheapness.
CHAPTER III.
NATIVE CUSTOMS.
There are three types of natives, Malay, Papuan, and Polynesian, each
more or less mixed with the others. The word "Papuan" is derived from
the Malay "Pua-Pua," or "Papuas," which, translated, means
frizzle-haired. The distinguishing characteristic of the true "Papuan"
is his frizzled hair, which, strange to say, grows naturally in small
tufts. So far as I am aware no other race has this strange peculiarity.
The "Papuan" is also much darker and fiercer than the others, and has
thickish lips and rather a broad, flat nose. The "Polynesian" is by far
the most intelligent of the three races. He has, moreover, fine,
clear-cut, aquiline features, and is more amenable to the influences of
civilization.
Now it is a very difficult matter to determine whence the Papuans of
New Guinea originally came. If I may hazard the opinion, I should say
they originally hailed from the continent of Asia. My reasons for
thinking so are, _firstly_, tribes of the Papuan or Oriental Negro
are found in the interior or mountain fastnesses of the Philippine
Islands, in the islands of Flores and Borneo (Malay Archipelago), in
the Malay Peninsula (at the foot of Siam), in the Andaman Islands (Bay
of Bengal), and also in Cochin China; _secondly_, during several
months of the year the wind blows from the north-west, and under the
influence of these winds the current would flow in a direction by which
it would be quite feasible for numbers of Papuans to travel in canoes
by way of the Malay Archipelago as far as New Guinea.
In the strict sense of the term the Papuans are without any form of
religion, but at the same time have certain beliefs in the
supernatural. When one of their tribe dies they believe that his spirit
tenants his former home, and if he be a "Taubada," that is to say a
person of importance, a neat fence is erected round his grave.
Quantities of yams, taro, betel-nut, and sometimes his native
tomahawks, shield, &c., are then placed within the enclosure, which is
held sacred or "Tabu." Should he perchance die in Queensland, his
spirit will not return to his birthplace, but will, according to their
belief, be lost; the natives therefore will be wild, and will in all
probability kill the first white man they come across, as an
equivalent. If, however, payment be made to the relatives of the
deceased the natives will be satisfied, and nothing more will be heard
of it.
They do not possess any temples of worship, but have wooden idols or
gods with which they decorate their houses; however, I have never seen
them fall down and worship them, nor, as far as I know, is it their
practice to do so. They believe in all sorts of "Devils" whom it is
necessary to propitiate, but strange to say they have no idea of any
beneficent spirits working for their good. I was present at several
funerals or wakes, all of them being of women. When a woman dies
beautiful wreaths of wild flowers are placed on the corpse, which is
laid on the knees of two of her nearest relatives in the house. Her
friends gather round, and weep and wail all night long, making the
darkness hideous with their groans, but some of them feel real grief at
their loss. At sunrise a canoe is in waiting, which conveys the body to
her native place, which may be an island a few miles away. There it is
decently interred, with more weeping, and all is over. Their method of
going into mourning is very similar to our own. We wear black clothes,
whilst they paint themselves black all over like Christy Minstrels, so
that it is difficult to recognize them, their natural colour being a
nutty brown. The period of mourning generally lasts about two months,
and it looks very comical when the mourning is getting washed out. In
some parts of New Guinea the women wear a net over their shoulders and
breasts as a token of mourning, but the general custom is to dye
themselves black. With all their savagery their different customs
resemble many of our civilized ones.
_Marriage._--They have no priests to perform this ceremony. When a
man has reached a marriageable age, say twenty, he looks out for a
wife. He selects a girl to his fancy, but has invariably to wait a long
time before the marriage takes place, and it is very often a difficult
matter for a young man to obtain a wife at all. When the day of the
marriage has arrived the young couple retire to the house which has
been prepared for them, and are thenceforth looked upon by their
relatives as man and wife.
They keep the marriage state as inviolate as Europeans do. On the
wedding day they give a banquet to their friends, consisting of yams,
bananas, betel-nut and the fatted pig, also presents to the bride's
family, and, let us hope, live happily ever afterwards.
As a rule the natives have only one wife, but in some instances two.
The men do not talk much to the women, as they look upon themselves as
warriors and the women as labourers. It must not be understood from
this that the women are ill-treated by them, on the contrary they have
a large voice in domestic affairs, and occasionally lord it over their
masters. It is not only in domestic affairs, but also in the affairs of
state that their influence is felt. It is often the women who incite
the men to war, or to deeds of murder, rapine and plunder, and should
they hesitate, they rush wildly into their midst, fling their arms
about, and harangue them in the following fashion: "What, you are
afraid to do this and yet you call yourselves men and warriors! Out
upon you, you have not the hearts of men, you are more like a pack of
old women; you ought to put on the grass petticoat, stop at home and do
the cooking." The men thus wrought upon must needs obey, or quietly
submit to the taunt of cowardice flung in their faces.
The above shows the position held by Papuan women to be anything but
that of degraded slaves, as is so often the case in other savage
countries. No, the women of New Guinea are determined to have their
little say, and take very good care they are listened to.
The children are bright, cheerful, happier and more contented-looking
than any I have ever seen. They are always at play, using the spear in
sham warfare, with a piece of wood for a shield, or they busy
themselves in fishing and swimming. Both men and women are always
joking and laughing. Life seems to them one long holiday. All their
wants, which are not many, are supplied by Dame Nature, their food,
clothing, houses and weapons. One stick makes a man a spear, two sticks
rubbed together a fire, fifty sticks tied together a house.
The boys are particularly bright and quick at learning anything, some
of them picking up English readily, although they prefer speaking their
own language.
All the women wear a grass petticoat, sometimes two, made from the
palm, having two shades, intermixed brown and a whitish-yellow. It
looks most picturesque. They also wear a black band, about three inches
deep, round the arm just below the shoulder, and it is so tightly put
on that when they wish to remove it they are obliged to cut it, which
leaves an ugly mark in the flesh. The men wear simply a leaf of the
coco-nut palm round the loins, with leglets, armlets and streamers or
"wings" from the shoulders, if they wish to look extra well. They
cultivate a tremendous shock of hair on their heads, combing it out and
dressing it with coco-nut oil several times a day. The combs are of
their own manufacture, which, after using, they stick in their hair in
much the same way as European ladies wear a comb. All the men have the
lobe of the ear pierced, on the outer rim of which they string small
shells like rings, also the cartilage of the nose is perforated,
through which they thrust a long shell, well polished, and fined down
to a sharp point, giving it at a distance the appearance of a
moustache. Like the heathen Chinee, they are as beardless as boys. The
women as a rule wear their hair straight and cut short, the part over
the forehead a little frizzy. The married women tattoo themselves from
head to foot in an ornamental and conventional design. The girls and
men do not practise the art.
They live in villages, all the houses standing in a regular line, well
built on blocks, 5 to 6 feet from the ground, the walls made of the
sago palm, the leaves of which are put on separately and slightly
overlapping one another. The floor is made of "matu" or cane, the face
of the roof in the form of a triangle. They keep the ground in front of
the houses very tidy, generally sweeping it once a day. The houses are
surrounded by numbers of coco-nut trees, and by a curious and happy law
of nature the nuts fall principally at night time; were it otherwise it
would be very dangerous, as the coco-nut is anything but soft.
The women are employed in the yam and taro gardens, also in cooking and
carrying firewood, besides looking after their babies.
The land is held by a family or tribe, and is divided and sub-divided,
each household having a part portioned off, so that many natives are
interested in one piece or parcel of land. Such land cannot be sold or
parted with without the consent of all the principal owners. This
system of land tenure works well until the family or tribe becomes so
numerous that the different portions or lots are reduced to a very
small area, causing some of the members to seek fresh districts.
Their national food consists of yams, taro, bananas, sago, coco-nuts,
fish, birds, pigs, and occasionally human beings. Of course in some
districts food is scarce, in others, there is a superabundance.
They commence digging up the yams about the end of April, and in May
hold a great yam feast or festival, at which hundreds of natives are
present, each of whom contributes pigs, yams, or something else. They
think nothing of killing over 100 pigs on one day, and there are cart
loads of yams and other food on the ground. They have a very curious
method of dealing out the different parts of the pig. They cut up twine
(which they make themselves) into various lengths, giving to each
representative a length. Each length entitles the holder to a certain
part of the pig, say, a holder of a short length receives the head, and
so on.
All the girls are dressed in their best, which means a clean grass
petticoat, with beautiful garlands of wild flowers round their heads
and a necklace of beads encircling their throats. It looks lovely. The
men paint their faces in the most gorgeous style, using different
pigments, and vieing with each other as to who can look the ugliest.
They are also decorated with bands and streamers, and in their own
opinion are dressed in the height of fashion. After gorging themselves
with food and coco-nut milk, the musicians strike up, using the
"tom-tom" a kind of drum, and singing a New Guinea carol; the maidens
dance round for hours in a ring, speeches are made by some of the
leading men, and the amusement extends far into the night, only to
begin again the next day. A feast of this description often lasts from
a week to ten days, during which time business is at a stand-still, as
they will not work at making "copra" or anything else until the feast
is over. It is very similar in idea to our harvest feast in England.
Should the yam season fail, which is not often, the natives suffer
want, and have to live on sago and coco-nuts. As in most annual feasts
the amount of food wasted is great. There is one very good quality
about the yams, if stored in a house they will keep good for two years.
They grow sometimes to a length of 4 to 5 feet and weigh very heavy.
The language is not unlike that of the Maories of New Zealand, and,
like it, is made up of numerous dialects. When you reach the "Motu"
district, say Port Moresby, the language decidedly changes and differs
entirely from that of the south-east or east end.
It is not very difficult to acquire. If you mix with the natives, and
take some interest in your task, you ought to be fairly proficient in
twelve months, at least, this is true of the language spoken on the
south-east coast, with which I am conversant. Like Italian, every word
ends with a vowel. The vowels are pronounced, ah, eh, e, o, oo, _ai_ as
i, _au_ as ow, and _r_ at the beginning of a word, as L.
Their musical instruments are very primitive, but their singing is
good, as they keep capital time, and have very fair voices. They are
very fond of singing, their songs generally being an account of a
canoe's journey, of how they got on, or about some fight that took
place years ago, and occasionally about the only girl they ever loved.
They make incantations to the wind, as it is believed the winds are
influenced thereby.
The natives living on the south coast manufacture different kinds of
pottery, such as cooking-pots, dishes, bowls, water-jugs, and the like.
They are also very clever at making fishing-nets, mats, baskets,
lime-bottles, and last, but not least, canoes. As we have our
shipwrights, so they have special men who understand canoe-building. It
is astonishing how well they make them, considering the rude tools they
have to work with. They manufacture large quantities of sago. They do
not, however, make it in a granulated form, but bake it into cakes,
covering them with a frame of woven leaves, this being the handiest
form for carrying it about with them in their canoes. When it is
required for the "table" it is made up into small dumplings, placed in
the pot and boiled. The process of manufacture is as follows:
They cut down the sago palm, and remove the crown with its huge fronds.
A tall tree with a smooth white bark is selected, the bark split in a
straight line from top to bottom, and stripped off in one piece. They
then spread out the piece of bark flat on the ground along-side the
sago trunk, covering it with the large green leaves of the wild
plantain. The bark of the sago-palm is split into three or four long
strips, reaching from end to end of the trunk, and the white pith is
exposed the whole length of the tree. A number of women sit in front of
the tree, each with an adze-shaped weapon made of bamboo, with which
they chip out the pith, which falls in white flakes on the clean
plantain leaves.
The pith is carried away in baskets made of plaited coco-nut leaves to
the river or sea, as the case may be, where it is to be washed. It is
then shot into a bin about six feet square, built of logs and lined
with plantain leaves. A staging of poles is erected in the water and
troughs made of the leaf stalks of the sago palm are fixed upon it.
They are placed in a sloping position upon the staging, the larger ends
uppermost. The sago pith is now put into the trough, into which is
fixed a strainer made of that delicate textile that envelopes the
unexpanded fronds of the coco-nut palm. It is washed with water and
kneaded with the hands, while the water runs away in a milky stream,
and the woody fibre and other solid particles are arrested by the
strainer. The water runs out of the bottom of the trough, and is caught
in a deep receptacle where the heavy sago sinks to the bottom in a form
resembling white clay. Sago, manufactured in this way, will keep good
for a considerable time.
When yams are scarce, the natives have to depend almost entirely on
sago and coco-nuts.
CHAPTER IV.
A STORMY TRIP.
A Christmas under a burning tropical sun, such as I spent in 1887,
seems unnatural. What a contrast to a Christmas in England!
"Outside fall the snowflakes lightly,
Through the night loud raves the storm,
In my room the fire glows brightly,
And 'tis cosy, silent, warm.
"Musing sit I on the settle,
By the firelight's cheerful blaze,
Listening to the busy kettle
Humming long-forgotten lays."
In New Guinea you eat your Christmas dinner in the open air, with the
thermometer at over 100 deg. in the shade. All nature seems weighed down by
the oppressive atmosphere. One feels too enervated for any exertion,
beyond imbibing cool drinks or smoking a cigar in a cane lounge.
About this time a fleet of pearl-shelling boats had come to New Guinea
from Torres Strait, and were working in the Louisiade Archipelago. The
water was rather too deep for them, as they had been accustomed to
eight to ten fathoms. One or two of their divers were paralysed, and
the whole of their fleet in a few months left for their old quarters,
evidently having had enough of New Guinea waters. Not long after their
departure one or two good patches of pearl-shell were found, which the
New Guinea pearl divers took advantage of. It was fortunate for them,
the Torres Strait fleet had already left the scene.
Just before Christmas Day, some of the Torres Strait boats had anchored
in China Straits, remaining until after Christmas, so that we had a
good muster of white men.
We held our Christmas festivities on the Island of Samarai. The dinner
was tastefully laid out on rudely-constructed tables, set in the open
air, under the canopy of Heaven. The tables were decorated with
beautiful bouquets of wild flowers.
The bill of fare was exhaustive of the delicacies procurable, and was
as follows:
Soup--Real Turtle.
Fish--Kingfish.
Joints--Roast Lamb & Peas (Kid).
Joints--Roast Pork.
Joints--Cold Corned Beef.
Entrees--Turtle & Scalloped Oysters.
Sweets--Omelette, Fruit Pie.
Vegetables--Yams, Taro, Spinach.
Cheese.
Dessert--Bananas, Pineapples, Mangots, Paw-paws, Coco-nuts, Oranges,
etc.
Wine & Spirits--Lager Beer, Whisky, Sherry, Port.
We had quite a representative gathering, consisting of captains, mates,
traders, fishermen and divers--fifteen in all.
Several New Guinea natives, clad in their native garments, waited at
table, and first-class waiters they are. Captain Runcie, of the S.S.
_Gympie_, an old _habitue_ of New Guinea, took the chair. Runcie
Creek in the Island of St. Aignan was discovered by him.
After justice had been done to the different viands, speeches were
made, some of unique character. Songs were then called for, and woe
betide him who refused to sing. All the different nationalities were
represented. We had Greek, English, Russian, Scotch, German, and New
Guinea songs. The excitement was kept up until the small hours of the
morning. Some of the feasters had some difficulty in the morning in
finding their respective vessels. I must not forget to mention that we
had a Chinese song by one "Ah Gim," a worthy member of that race, and a
most respectable man. He has been engaged in the Beche-de-mer
fisheries, New Guinea, for the past ten years, and has had several
hair-breadth escapes. I am not a lover of the Chinese race, but I must
make an exception in favour of "Ah Gim." He is a first-rate fellow. I
have known him for several years, and can testify to his upright and
straightforward character. His headquarters are at Su-au (South Cape).
At the end of January, 1888, I started in a small lugger, intending to
go first to the Island of Wari (Teste), and then to Kitai (Basilaki
Islands). I had four New Guinea natives and one South Sea Islander on
board. The breeze was light, and before we got clear of the Eastern
Passage it entirely died away. We were bemoaning our fate, when a light
air sprang up, and I was congratulating myself on the prospect of
reaching Wari (35 miles distant) that evening, when the wind, which was
blowing from the south, increased to a gale. Our dinghy was being towed
astern, and in our haste to get it on board, and from the force of the
wind, the tow-rope somehow or other got adrift, and away went the
dinghy, which was soon lost to sight. Our little craft was headed for
Wari, but owing to the strength of the gale she was unable to face it,
so we had to run before the wind under the jib only, steering our
course for Kitai. After tearing along for several hours at racing
speed, we dropped anchor off Kitai a little before dark, the wind still
howling like an enraged beast. We soon turned into our bunks, glad to
be safely secured from the tempest.
"Basilaki" is a large island about 15 miles from the main coast. The
natives living on it are a bad lot. They have committed many murders
both of natives and white men, and are the terror of the adjoining
islands. In the morning a number of large canoes came alongside of us
with a quantity of bags of copra, which I took on board. At noon, the
sun shining fiercely, I determined to go on shore, so jumping into one
of their big canoes, and taking my Winchester rifle, loaded with 13
rounds, and with a few spare cartridges in my pocket for I knew the
treacherous nature of the natives in this part, I was duly landed on
the beach.
A crowd of natives soon gathered round me, evidently taking a keen
interest in my appearance. I was alone. I went a short distance into
the bush, keeping a firm hold of my rifle. I then sat down and
distributed a few small pieces of tobacco to the assembled multitude.
Not liking the look of the people, and wishing to avoid an encounter, I
thought it prudent to return to my little vessel. I jumped into one of
their canoes and was soon on board, telling them at the same time that
I purposed returning in a month or two, when I hoped they would have
plenty of copra for me. The next day, the wind still blowing furiously,
I decided to remain at anchor. I was successful in obtaining a few more
bags of copra, and on the following morning left en route for Wari. The
wind was blowing fresh from the south-east, and after a long beat
through the lagoon, where we had anchored, to the open sea, we found
the wind coming direct from Wari and dead in our teeth.
Had I been a native of New Guinea I should have accounted for the
unfortunate circumstance by the interference of some evil spirit who
had purposely and with malicious intent caused an unfavourable wind.
Not, however, believing that I was the plaything of devils, I
determined to make an effort by way of a dead beat to windward. The
boat would not sail close to the wind. The tides here are terribly
strong, running at the rate of five to six knots an hour. So that
whatever progress we made in six hours we lost in the next six.
However it is a long lane that has no turning, so, after beating about
for three days, a distance of only 20 miles, we made the north-west
passage of the island.
Our troubles were by no means at an end. The night was pitch dark, so
we were obliged to stand off and on until the rising of the moon, which
did not appear until nearly midnight. It then shone brightly, and the
island of Wari, a few hundred yards distant, stood out in bold relief,
with Bell Rock on our right, so called from its likeness to a bell. It
is a perpendicular rock, several hundred feet high, most precipitous,
bare of cultivation, with the sea ceaselessly dashing against its
serried side. The passage between Bell Rock and the island is a very
narrow and intricate one, and most dangerous to navigate.
There is a large coral reef on either side, also several sunken rocks.
I placed one of the natives, a boy belonging to Wari, who knew the
locality, in the bows of the boat to act as pilot, and keep a sharp
look-out. With the silvery moon lighting up our path, and a strong
breeze from the south-east, we made the attempt, anxiously peering over
the side with the unpleasant expectation of striking on a reef.
Presently the boy who was keeping a look-out forward sang out, "'Bout
ship," the helm was put hard down, and the next moment we were on the
reef.
Oars were at once got out, but it was of no avail. Our vessel would not
budge an inch. I sent a couple of natives to the island. They had to
cross the reef, and by dint of swimming and wading reached the beach.
Numerous fires were blazing in the distance surrounded by numbers of
the islanders. The boys were instructed to bring as many natives as
they could muster, as I hoped by our united efforts we should be
enabled to get the vessel off. About a dozen natives appeared on the
scene, who evidently did not relish turning out at such an unearthly
hour. We all worked with a will, and after a number of spasmodic
efforts we got clear of the reef, only to get on another one a few
minutes later. I suspended the certificate of the pilot for the next 12
months, and I am afraid to write the language which, on the occasion,
seemed to me appropriate. There was nothing else for it but to drop the
anchor on the reef and wait patiently until the morning. The sun rose
in full splendour, showing us distinctly our unfortunate position. Here
we were, within a mile or so of our anchorage, imprisoned between the
reefs like a rat in a trap.
The wind had by this time increased, and the sea had got up. Our little
craft was in considerable danger, as with a heavy wind and her sides
beating against the hard coral, she stood a very good chance of
breaking up, or having a hole knocked in her bottom. The wind blowing
straight in our teeth, I determined to get the anchor on board, crowd
all canvas, turn tail, and run, trusting by this means to get free of
the reef.
I could then go to leeward of the island, and rounding the north-east
end, pick up my anchorage in the passage which is on the south east or
weather side.
This was a roundabout way, but the only possible one. The anchorage is
sheltered by a large coral reef which extends a long distance to
windward.
Our anchor was safely stowed on board, all the sails set (a strong
south-easter blowing astern), and the vessel gave a heave and got clear
of the reef.
The start was made. No sooner, however, had we got away, and in deep
water, than crack went the mainsail, blown into a thousand ribbons.
Luckily we had a spare mainsail on board, belonging to another boat. We
managed to set it in a fashion, and after many difficulties,
circumnavigated the island and came to an anchorage on the other side
just abreast of the Mission House, tired out with our unfortunate
journey.
"Wari," or Teste Island, is situated about 35 miles to the south-east
of Milne Bay, and as the trade wind blows from that quarter, it means a
dead beat all the way.
The island is from two to three miles long by half a mile broad. It is
most fertile, and from its position very healthy.
There are numerous plantations of yams and bananas; also orange and
lemon groves. There is unfortunately a scarcity of good water. A ridge
of hills runs right through its centre from E.N.E. to W.S.W. There are
three villages close together, having a population of about 400. The
natives here are most intelligent, and make capital sailors.
One of them, by name "Dim-Dim," can sail a cutter as well as any white
man, and what is still better, can be thoroughly trusted. The word
"Dim-Dim" means "a white man," and as the native in question has all
the good qualities of one he was so christened.
At the time of my visit to Wari I was the only white man on the island.
The day after I landed I had an attack of fever, and what with sickness
and the gale still holding, I had perforce to remain here for a week.
All the natives are passionately fond of chewing the betel-nut; they
take with it lime, which they make by burning coral and then crushing
it into a fine powder. It is carried in boxes made of coco-nut and
beautifully carved. They also eat with it a leaf which is rather
peppery but pleasant to the taste. The betel-nut grows luxuriantly in
some districts, whilst in others there is none. Of course the constant
chewing of it blackens the teeth, but that is fashionable and
considered no blemish.
I visited the natives in their several villages, and was in every
instance treated with the greatest hospitality.
Upon entering their houses a clean "dam" or mat was placed on the floor
for me, betel-nut was brought which I had, _nolens volens_, to chew,
though I must confess I do not relish the operation, and lastly the
"bau-bau," a family pipe, was produced, at which I was supposed to take
a draw or two, not forgetting to supply the ammunition for it from my
stock of tobacco.
It is best to fall in with their ways as far as practicable, and by
your acts to show them that you appreciate their demonstration of
hospitality. It is in this way that you are able to gain their
friendship and confidence.
Most of the natives living on the coast have acquired the habit of
smoking, and very soon become inveterate at it. They would sell their
souls for tobacco.
There are islands to the north of the mainland where tobacco is
entirely unknown, but before many years are over it will reach them
also.
The women are not heavy smokers, and are never to be seen with a clay
pipe in their mouths. They prefer smoking the "bau-bau," a family pipe
made of bamboo. It is a hollow piece of wood, three or four feet long,
circular, with a big hole at one end and a small hole at the other. The
tobacco is rolled in a pan-danus leaf in the form of a cigarette,
placed in the small hole and lighted, the smoke is then blown into the
pipe and the tobacco removed. The first smoker, holding the pipe in
both hands, takes two draws and passes it on to the next. The tobacco
must then be inserted again and the process repeated.
When smoking the "bau-bau" they seat themselves in a circle. The pipe
is always artistically carved, and is a great favourite with the women.
Having lost our only dinghy, I purchased from the natives a canoe with
an outrigger attached, capable of holding two persons. I had to pay one
American hatchet for it. It came in very handy, as without it I should
have been dependent on the natives for going ashore.
Some of their canoes here are very large, carrying a big mat sail made
from the palm-tree, the seams well caulked and tarred. It is surprising
how quickly they can travel, and how close to the wind they can go.
They go out with them in all sorts of weather, and it is very seldom
they get upset. The leading man in the canoe sits in the stern sheets
and acts as helmsman.
He also gives the word of command. When it is time to make sail, he
sings out in a loud voice, "Wai-wai, Wai-wai," and when the great sail
has been hoisted to the peak, he calls out, "Besi" (that will do), the
halyards and sheets are belayed, the sail is canted over, and away she
scuds before the breeze.
The prows of their canoes are decorated with numbers of the white
egg-shaped cowrie shell, and, like our own vessels, each canoe has a
particular name.
The natives trade a good deal amongst themselves, in some instances
taking sago in their large canoes a distance of 300 miles, bringing
back in exchange yams, betel-nut, etc.
Having obtained several bags of Beche-de-mer and copra, and stowed them
safely on board, I took advantage of a light favourable wind and left
for Samarai (China Straits).
After an uneventful passage of 18 hours I dropped the anchor a little
after midnight.
CHAPTER V.
A GOLDEN PROSPECT.
When not engaged in trading operations I occasionally made excursions
on the mainland, and at different times prospected several creeks,
hoping to obtain traces of gold, but such hopes were not fulfilled. One
of the creeks I followed had a formation identical with those on
Sud-Est, where payable gold was found. The bed of this creek was
composed of slate, with slate bars here and there. The banks sloped on
either side. With more time to prosecute the search possibly the result
would have been different.
Mr. Andrew Goldie, who has been in New Guinea about 14 years, is said
to have discovered traces of gold many years ago, but nothing came of
it.
Everyone held more or less the belief that gold existed in the country,
but, strange to say, no one had taken much trouble to prove it.
One evening, towards the end of May, 1888, I was quietly reclining on a
lounge, smoking my pipe and enjoying the beauties of a tropical night,
when suddenly the door of my room was opened and eight stalwart men
appeared out of the blackness of the night. I was taken quite by
surprise, as I had not heard any vessel let go her anchor.
It turned out, however, that the cutter _Juanita_ from Cooktown,
with a party of eight diggers or prospectors, had arrived, with Mr.
Whyte as leader. I knew Whyte and one or two of the others. Water
diluted with a little whisky was at once produced, when numerous
questions were eagerly asked and answered.
In answer to my query what was their object in coming to New Guinea,
Mr. Whyte said that the party was organised by himself under the
authority of the Hon. John Douglas, at that time "Special Commissioner"
for British New Guinea under the "Protectorate."
Mr. Douglas had given them special powers and privileges to prospect
for gold and other minerals over the whole of the territory under
British protection. I may as well here state the causes that led to
this sudden action on the part of Mr. Douglas.
Two months previously, David Whyte, who was engaged on a pearl-shelling
boat in the Louisiade Archipelago (which is part and parcel of British
New Guinea territory), and who, by the bye, was hard up at the time,
informed Mr. Douglas that he had discovered an auriferous reef on
Johannet Island, situated in the above named group, showing him
specimens therefrom.
This information resulted in Mr. Douglas purchasing the _Juanita_,
a cutter of seven to nine tons burthen, and provisioning it for a three
months' cruise. Mr. Whyte found eight practical miners who were willing
to go with him although they were well aware that he was not a miner.
The adventurous party, who were loudly cheered on their departure from
Cooktown, set sail on May 23rd, and arrived, as I have already stated,
off the Island of Samarai on the evening of May 28th, 1888. The party
stayed on the island for a couple of days in order to take in a fresh
supply of wood and water before proceeding on their journey.
Johannet Island lies 140 miles to the eastward of China Straits, which
necessitates beating to windward nearly the whole of the distance. At
the time of their arrival H---- and I were the only white men on
Samarai, whilst there were as many as 250 natives, most of them
visitors from different parts, some from Milne Bay, others from
Tube-Tube (Engineer group), Basilaki, and various places. The resident
natives only numbered about 50.
On May 31st I was strolling round the island with two or three of the
"diggers," pointing out some of its beauties, when, near a large group
of natives, I heard a buzz of angry voices. I immediately hastened to
the spot anxious to find out the cause of the disturbance. Numbers of
large canoes belonging to the native visitors were drawn up in
regimental line on the beach. Hard by, in an open grove of beautiful
coco-palms, about 100 natives belonging to Wagga-Wagga (Milne Bay) were
drawn up in review order, opposite to them were 50 natives from
Tube-Tube, one of the islands of the Engineer Group, ranged in double
ranks in the position known as "ready to receive cavalry." A few
moments before not an arm, not a spear, was to be seen. Now they
appeared to have sprung from the ground, as all the warriors were
suddenly armed with them. The spears had, in fact, been hidden in the
canoes a few yards away.
Matters began to wear a serious aspect. Both parties had worked
themselves into a most excited state. The attacking party, viz., the
men from Wagga-Wagga, intent on crushing their foes, gradually drew
nearer, each with his long and deadly spear poised, ready to lunge it
in the breast of his antagonist, until they had advanced to within a
few yards of their opponents. I expected every moment to see the
spears, held in itching hands, hurled. I could not but admire the cool
courage with which the Tube-Tube men awaited the onslaught,
nothwithstanding the disparity of numbers. Each belligerent party
hesitated.
However, I could plainly see that it was merely a question of time. In
a few minutes, maybe, their feelings would get the better of their
judgment and blood be spilt. Not knowing what evil consequences might
not result from such an ending, there being nearly 300 savages on the
island, I hastily despatched a native boy named "Ginger" to a house a
short distance away, telling him to bring back three or four Winchester
rifles duly loaded. He returned in a few minutes with them. We armed
ourselves and forced the Wagga-Wagga natives to retire, and leave the
island in their canoes, thus averting unnecessary bloodshed. Had we not
acted promptly, goodness knows where the fight would have ended. There
was great excitement in the place for several hours afterwards, the
wives and sweethearts of the men taking a lively interest in the events
of the day. War was averted.
It seems, according to the Wagga-Wagga version, that one of the
Tube-Tube men had stolen something from a Wagga-Wagga man. This the
Tube-Tube natives denied, but it was evident that the two tribes were
natural enemies, and that the quarrel was only got up through their
hatred of one another.
The weapons used in this part are the spear, stone hatchet, club,
shield, and a small spear something like a dart. To the westward they
have the spear, club, tomahawk, and bow and arrows.
They are wonderfully expert with the latter, being dead shots at a
distance of 80 yards, the bow and arrow being much more dangerous to my
mind than the spear. The bows are very large, strong, and beautifully
made. They have also a horrible, murderous-looking weapon, called a
man-catcher, which is used by them in their nefarious head-hunting
expeditions. It is a large loop of rattan with a long handle of bamboo;
at the bottom or foot of the loop a sharp spike about four inches in
length is inserted. The loop is thrown over the head of the retreating
victim, the sudden jerk causing the spike to enter the base of the
skull, producing instant death; the head is then severed from the body
and kept as an article of barter. You will often come across a number
of skulls stuck in a ghastly row outside the houses. This, of course,
is direct evidence of the wealth of the proprietor, as with them he can
purchase anything he desires.
* * * * *
Having taken in a fresh supply of wood and water, the prospecting party
left in the _Juanita_ for Johannet Island, which they reached on June
10th.
Whyte was asked by the "diggers" to point out the golden reef that he
had discovered. He showed them a "buck reef" (by which is meant a
quartz reef not bearing gold), which never had carried gold and never
would. In fact there was no trace of gold on the whole island. The
outraged feelings of the diggers may be imagined; they were simply
furious.
Fortunately, however, there was a larger island seven miles distant,
viz., Sud-Est.
They went there, and on the second day after landing discovered traces
of gold. Their spirits rose at once. They diligently followed them up,
and in a little over two months obtained 150 ounces, of the value of
L550. Mr. Douglas had stipulated that at the end of three months the
boat was to be returned to the British New Guinea Government, which was
accordingly done. I saw the members of the party in China Straits upon
their return from Sud-Est. They reported that they had worked the field
out and that it was very patchy. This report speedily reached Cooktown,
setting it on fire, everyone believing that there were millions of
ounces of the precious metal awaiting their grasp. A party of 26
diggers left Cooktown on August 14th, in the schooner _Griffin_, other
sailing vessels following at short intervals.
This discovery caused the Home Government to create British New Guinea
a "British Possession," which was declared at Port Moresby on September
6th, 1888, and an Administrator, now Sir William Macgregor, was
appointed.
A high customs tariff was at once imposed on all imports, which revenue
came as a relief to the impoverished state of the New Guinea funds.
Six or seven weeks after the above events, the cutter "_S----l_," 12
tons register, owned by a friend of mine, arrived from Cooktown. As my
friend purposed going on to the Sud-Est Goldfield, I decided to go with
him in his cutter.
They had a large cargo on board of dutiable goods, such as tobacco,
general stores, etc.
Up to this time (September 30th, 1888) no word of the declaration had
reached us from Port Moresby, nor any schedule of the tariff, which we
took for granted would be imposed. The Government schooner _Hygeia_,
with the Administrator on board, was hourly expected from the
above-named port.
As most of the goods on board the "_S----l_" were under bond, we were
anxious to reach Sud-Est before the arrival of the Government and get
rid of a quantity before duties could be levied.
Having got everything ship-shape and still no sign of the _Hygeia_,
Captain S----g went to the Government Agent at Samarai, Mr. Edelfelt,
an ignorant foreigner, and asked him for his clearance for Sud-Est. The
agent very impolitely refused to grant it, stating that, as the
_Hygeia_ was expected every moment, it would be necessary for us to pay
duty on everything before we could obtain a clearance.
What an absurdity! Fancy paying duty before knowing what the duties
were, or having had any official intimation of them! We distinctly
refused to grant this request, and demanded our clearance, as our sails
were all unfurled and everything ready for a start. We then went on
board our cutter, telling the agent we would give him an hour to
reconsider his decision.
In about an hour and a half we received a letter from him, in which he
defied us to leave without a clearance, and stating that if we did so
we should have to take the consequences. Seeing that nothing was to be
gained by arguing with such a man,[1] orders were at once given to let
go; the sails were hoisted and away we went without the coveted
clearance, as we had lost quite enough time as it was. We touched at
Sariba to take in water and left the same evening for Sud-Est. No
sooner had we got abreast of the Island of Doini (Blanchard), six miles
distant, than the _Hygeia_, from Port Moresby, hove in sight, bound for
Samarai.
[1] Mr. Edelfelt has since deemed it advisable to resign his
appointment.
She only stayed two hours in port, when she hurriedly left for Sud-Est.
As she was a smart sailer, and of 60 to 70 tons burthen, she passed us
during the following night, reaching Sud-Est two days in advance of us.
The Administrator had, of course, been duly informed by the agent, Mr.
Edelfelt, of our reprehensible conduct in leaving without his august
sanction.
The trip to Sud-Est was most enjoyable, the weather being everything
that could be desired. We kept inside the Long Reef, passing Teste
Island on our right. We were never more than half a day out of sight of
land.
We had to pass through a perfect network of reefs and islands--islands
of tropical beauty, covered with succulent grasses, and smiling groves
of palms bending beneath the weight of their luscious fruit.
Every now and then a large canoe, filled with dusky forms, would shoot
out from an adjacent island and pay us a flying visit.
We had a tow line astern with a hook covered with a piece of red and
white calico, and every day we hauled up a couple of splendid fish,
sometimes a king fish, at other times a sea salmon. We ate what we
could and dried the remainder, cutting them into strips and hanging
them in the rigging.
After passing Brooker Island, we entered the Sud-Est Barrier, and the
next night anchored off Grassy Island, as just here the reefs are very
numerous, making it unsafe to travel at night.
At daylight in the morning we were off again, and in the afternoon,
when only three miles from the anchorage of Sud-Est, we grounded on a
coral patch. We tried to get her off, but she would not budge; however,
the tide was making, so we had nothing to fear. Whilst in this
position, a boat from H.M.S. _Swinger_, containing the chief lieutenant
and half-a-dozen Jack tars, boarded us. The lieutenant, who was most
courteous, informed us that Sir Wm. Macgregor was very wroth at our
behaviour and had a good mind to seize our vessel. We received this
news with wonderful calmness and fortitude, as for the life of us we
could see no reason for seizure. By the kind help of the lieutenant and
his men, we were enabled to get clear of the reef, and proceeded to our
anchorage, which we reached just before dark. At the request of the
Administrator, on the following morning Captain S----g went on board
the _Hygeia_. The governor, who was in anything but a good humour,
asked him why his vessel should not be seized? Captain S----g explained
all the circumstances of the case, not forgetting to dwell on the
stupidity of the Government Agent at Samarai.
The governor then said:
"Well, you will have to pay duty on all your goods before landing a
package," to which my friend answered:
"I have no intention of doing anything of the kind, nor have I the
necessary funds for the purpose. I am quite prepared to pay duty on
such goods as I may require for immediate sale, and the balance of them
you can put in the Government Bond until such time as I may require to
clear them."
The governor had evidently imagined that he had an ignorant fool to
deal with, and was consequently disagreeably surprised. He foolishly
lost his temper, telling S----g "that he ought to know perfectly well
that the Government had not any bonded stores on Sud-Est yet." But, in
the name of common-sense, how does that give the Government a right to
exact from people the duty on the whole of their goods? However, the
result was, the governor had to give in. My friend only paid about L8
in duties, the balance of the bonded goods having to be sealed down
under hatches. _So_ we won the day.
The next morning I went ashore. The landing, which is at Griffin Point,
is very bad. You have to wade through mangrove mud, the stench of which
is enough to breed fever, and then climb a very steep ascent to the
first camp.
Here there are numbers of canvas tents pitched on a grassy flat, and it
is no easy task carrying heavy packages and tools up to it. About 400
men were on the ground. Some were doing well, others making good wages,
whilst many were not making "tucker." Others again were lying in the
tents sick with fever.
The field only lasted twelve months, during which time dozens of
diggers died from malaria, and, although several thousands of ounces of
gold were obtained from the islands, it cost a lot of money to get
them. It was all alluvial digging from six inches to two feet wash, no
reef carrying gold having been found.
Sud-Est is a large island 40 miles in length and eight miles broad. The
coast runs east and west, and is surrounded by a fringe of mangroves,
with a coral reef extending some distance from its shores. It has high
land, the principal mountain, Mount Rattlesnake, which is on the
south-east coast, having an altitude of over 3,000 feet. There are
hundreds of deep gullies running north and south, with bold hills,
covered with good grass, separating them. These hills would make
excellent pasturage for cattle, and after a time for sheep also, the
grass at present being a little too rank. The deep gullies on all sides
would act as natural fences. There is also an inexhaustible supply of
good water. There are hundreds of native foot-paths leading along these
hills and across the gullies throughout the length and breadth of the
island. The gullies are very steep and densely wooded. The rivers and
creeks, whose name is legion, run north and south, with gullies, for
the most part dry, meeting them at right angles.
The greater part of the gold was found on the western side of the
island. Strange to say, there was no indication of any leaders or reefs
bearing gold, although, occasionally, nuggets weighing four ounces were
obtained. At the same time there are many barren quartz reefs here and
there. In my opinion, Sud-Est is one of the healthiest spots in New
Guinea. The great sickness amongst the diggers was caused by turning up
the virgin soil in the workings and so releasing the malarial germs.
When the unwholesome food and change in the climate is further
considered, one cannot wonder at the result. Such is nearly always the
case in new gold-fields.
All the native houses on Sud-Est are built on the summit of the highest
hills or mountains. I should estimate the total population to be from
3,000 to 4,000.
The natives I saw are smaller than those living on the mainland, in
fact, as far as I could judge, they seemed to be half-starved. The
coco-nut trees are very few and far between, and yams anything but
plentiful. I believe the real reason for this barrenness is to be
traced to the fear of their enemies. This is undoubtedly the reason why
they build their houses in such inaccessible places, invisible until
you are close to them. The natives of Brooker Island constantly make
expeditions to Sud-Est in their large war canoes for the express
purpose of obtaining heads, and as they are more powerful than their
opponents, seldom leave without a number of these ghastly trophies. No
wonder the natives of Sud-Est live in mortal dread of them.
Whilst I was on the island, a deputation of miners waited on the warden
(Mr. Cameron), requesting him to interview the governor with respect to
taking a party of diggers in the _Hygeia_ for prospecting Rossel and
other large islands, as the number of men on Sud-Est was too great for
the amount of gold procurable.
Mr. Cameron spoke to the governor, who consented to act on the
suggestion on the understanding that the number must not exceed 15, and
that those brought their own "tucker." A committee was formed of seven,
of which I was one, and the ballot for the 15 took place in one of the
tents. The names of those elected were posted up outside.
The party left the next morning, arriving at Rossel Island the
following day. Rossel is the last and easternmost island in the
Louisiades. It is not so large as Sud-Est, being only about 25 miles
long. The eastern end is thickly inhabited. The natives here have a
very bad character, and up to the present time white men have been
unable to trade with them. It is said that many years ago a large
vessel,[2] with 350 Chinamen on board, got driven out of her course
through stress of weather and ran ashore on the island. The natives,
who were very numerous, surrounded her, and succeeded in capturing all
the Chinamen. They made prisoners of them, fattened them up, and killed
and ate them whenever their stocks ran short.
[2] 1858. The _St. Paul_, bound from Hongkong to Sydney with
327 Chinamen on board, of whom only _one_ escaped.
It is a curious and also a fortunate fact that the natives much prefer
a Chinaman, or one of their own race, to a European. The reason they
give is, that a European is not a good-feeding animal; he eats too much
meat and not enough vegetables.
The above facts may be of some use to the advocates of vegetarianism.
Cannibalism is still rampant in some districts, but in others has died
out. A man who has died a natural death is never eaten. Human flesh is
deemed far superior to pig, of which animal they have plenty, and,
strange to say, cannibalism is just as rife in districts where other
food is abundant as in those where it is scarce. The natives have no
European prejudices regarding the human body, and eat it with as good a
conscience and as much gusto as we do butcher's meat. To a civilized
person, this is of course repugnant, but we must remember "different
countries have different customs."
The _Hygeia_ party spent three days on Rossel, but did not succeed
in finding paying gold, only bare "colours" of the precious metal. What
else could they expect for a three days' prospect? They then went to
Messima (St. Aignan), a large island 40 miles to the north, spent a
couple of days on shore finding nothing but "colours," never attempting
to follow them up. They afterwards visited Normanby, Ferguson, and
Goodenough, all large islands lying to the north of East Cape, and on
to China Straits, where they disembarked, having failed in their
search.
A few weeks later, a number of "diggers" left Sud-Est on their own
behalf, journeying to St. Aignan. They spent several weeks in
prospecting, at the end of which they had the satisfaction of
discovering two large gullies bearing paying gold. The news of the
"find" soon reached Sud-Est, and in a short time 100 men found their
way to the new "rush."
The country of St. Aignan is much more broken than Sud-Est, and, owing
to the denseness of the scrub, is more difficult to travel in. In spite
of these disadvantages, a large quantity of gold was obtained, and had
it not been for the great amount of sickness amongst the diggers, this
quantity would have been considerably increased. Three friends of mine
left St. Aignan and went in a small cutter to Normanby Island. They
stayed there for four weeks, and not meeting with success proceeded to
the adjoining island, viz., Fergusson. The latter is larger than
Sud-Est, is only 15 miles from the mainland, and is thickly populated.
In a few days they discovered good traces of gold. Unfortunately they
were unable to continue the search, as their "tucker" had run short,
and also their number (three) was too small to cope with the savages.
They liked the look of the country and were strongly of the opinion
that it contained paying gold, and much regretted their inability to
remain. There are numerous boiling springs on this island, which is
evidently of volcanic origin.
The discovery of this "Field" has nevertheless proved conclusively that
gold in paying quantities exists in British New Guinea. It certainly
was found 100 to 150 miles away from the mainland, but from the
formation of the islands, which extend from within a few miles of it in
one unbroken line as far as Sud-Est, there being only very narrow
straits separating them, it is not too much to say that at one time
they formed part of that mainland; therefore it is a fair hypothesis
that gold exists there in payable quantities and merely requires
tracing.
There have been one or two prospecting parties for that purpose,
principally in the neighbourhood of the San Joseph River, on the south
coast. They were badly equipped, and as might be expected, were
unsuccessful.
Notwithstanding this discouragement, I see no reason to doubt that,
within the coming two years, gold will be found in New Guinea proper
and in large quantities, but the search, to be successful, must be
undertaken by a party fully equipped and with plenty of carriers, South
Sea Islanders being the best and most reliable.
CHAPTER VI.
VOYAGE TO BISMARCK ARCHIPELAGO.
Having been some weeks on Sud-Est, I left in the cutter _S----l_, and
after a smart passage of four days, arrived in China Straits.
The first news that greeted us was that Captain Ancell, of the ketch
_Star of Peace_, had been cruelly murdered by the natives of Chad's
Bay, only 30 miles distant from our anchorage. His vessel had then been
burnt, after the whole of the "Trade" had been taken out of her and
divided amongst them. Captain Ancell was an old man, and one who had
always treated the natives with kindness.
I have often had a yarn with him on board his craft, and heard the
lamentable news of his death with much sorrow. The natives, generally
speaking, are most treacherous, but there are exceptions. The Bush
tribes are infinitely more savage than those living on the coast, and
the latter have a wholesome dread of them, as they periodically make
raids, at which times a terrible panic ensues. The Bushmen are much
dirtier and more unkempt, evidently being totally ignorant of the
benefits of a bath.
In navigating the waters of New Guinea and touching at the various
islands and mainland, if you be on a trading expedition, great care
must be exercised, as the sight of a large quantity of "Trade," such as
tobacco, hatchets, etc., immediately kindles a desire in the natives to
acquire it, and unless you keep a careful watch and are well armed,
they will kill you for the sake of the booty, and then set fire to the
vessel. Many a vessel and many a white man have met that untimely fate
during the last three years, and among them several of my friends.
Looking at it from a philosophical point of view, this desire on the
part of the natives is but natural. How many of us, notwithstanding our
boasted centuries of civilization, envy a man his wealth and riches,
and, but for the strong arm of the law, might even go to the extremity
of killing him for the sake of plunder.
At times they seem to kill for the sake of killing. It is a savage
instinct (acquired perhaps for defence) belonging to primitive or early
man. Doubtless, some of my readers have heard the story of the
aboriginal boy of Queensland who was walking behind his master and
begged of him permission to go in front, as "he had such an intense
desire to kill him." In the English schoolboy, who delights in
torturing animals, in tieing tin cans to dogs' tails, and in playing
practical jokes upon his friends, a relic of savage nature inherited by
him from ancestors of a remote age may be recognised.
It is only by dint of centuries of civilization and refinement, that we
have been enabled to control and dominate our savage instincts, whereas
those of primitive man are free and unrestrained, so we must make some
allowances for these wild children of Nature. Maybe, centuries hence,
given the same opportunities for advancement that we have had, they,
too, will eventually become "even as we are," and their present savage
instincts be toned down into mere sport and playfulness. At any rate,
we may hope that these, our dreams of the future, are prophetic.
The Government schooner _Hygeia_ had just arrived in port, and upon
hearing the sad news of the murder, the Administrator (Sir Wm.
Macgregor) determined to go to the scene of the tragedy, taking with
him the diggers on board, with whose assistance he purposed giving the
perpetrators of the outrage a lesson they would not soon forget. At
this time I had made arrangements to go in the cutter _S----l_ on a
trading expedition to some of the wildest districts of British New
Guinea, where the natives speak a different language, and where a white
man is a _rara avis_. The party comprised three all told, not a very
large number considering the dangerous parts we intended to visit.
There was the captain, S----g, K----h, chief officer and I, second mate
and crew.
Not having any cargo on board, unless a few cases of "Trade" may be
counted as such, we had to fill up with ballast, consisting of stones
or rocks obtained on the beach. It is preferable to bags of sand, as
the latter are liable to impede the working of the pump, and, as our
little craft had a small leak, we were all the more anxious to keep the
pump in good working order and free from all obstruction, as upon it
much might depend.
We made an early start, taking full advantage of the ebb tide, which is
very strong in these waters, running at the rate of six miles an hour.
We had not long left the anchorage when day began to break.
"A wind came up out of the sea,
And said, 'O, mists, make room for me,'
It hailed the ships and cried, 'Sail on
Ye mariners, the night is gone.'
And hurried landwards far away,
Crying, 'Awake! it is the day.'
It said unto the forest, 'Shout!
Hang all your leafy banners out!'
It touched the wood-bird's folded wing,
And said, 'O, bird, awake and sing.'"
We soon swept past the South Foreland and across Milne Bay, anchoring
in a small bight on its northern shores, a few miles to the westward of
East Cape. Not far from here, viz. at Bentley Bay, which lies to the
north-west, there are some strange-looking natives. All the men have
the fully-developed breasts of a woman. This is all the more
remarkable, as such a peculiarity, as far as my knowledge goes, is
unknown in any other part of New Guinea.
The distance across Milne Bay, from the South Foreland to East Cape, is
about ten miles, and from the mouth to the head of the bay somewhat
over twenty. Its shores are lined by numbers of villages, all of them
densely inhabited and in a prosperous condition. The villages are a
mile or so apart, and the natives dwelling in them are of a light brown
colour, some approaching in fairness to Europeans.
I was spending the night at a place called "Killerton," and after
kai-kai (supper) joined a circle of young men and maidens who were
seated on the ground, passing the tranquil hours of night in singing
and general conversation. The conversation was hardly suited to a
fashionable drawing-room reception, but from a native's point of view
was modesty itself.
Among the faces grouped around me I was much struck by that of a young
girl of about 16 years of age. Her complexion was very fair, her figure
full of grace. Her face, of which the features were decidedly of a
Caucasian type, was full of animation, her eyes sparkling with fun and
humour, a "toga" or scarf was loosely thrown over her left shoulder,
serving to heighten the effect of her charms, as she coquettishly
tossed her head aside, her eyes at one time pensively looking
downwards, at another filled with the fire of impetuous youth. At first
I mistook her for a half-caste, but I reflected that such a breed is
unknown in New Guinea; and afterwards, from my enquiries, learnt that
both her parents were natives, pure and simple.
There are splendid plantations of yams, taro, bananas, plantains, sweet
potatoes, and groves of sago, coco-nut, and the betel palm, extending
from the beach for several miles inland. Behind is a vast amphitheatre
of mountains, with numerous rivers and creeks.
The soil on the flats is most fertile, and capable of growing anything.
Near the village "Maivara" there is some very good undulating land,
which I have not the slightest doubt would fatten cattle. There is but
one drawback to this district, viz., the heavy moisture caused by the
frequent rains. This excess of moisture makes a prolonged residence in
the bay unhealthy. The natives are better off here than in most parts.
They have good houses, fine plantations, and a superabundance of food.
They are very fond of feasting and dancing, and hold several great
feasts during the year.
I must not omit to mention the millions of coco-nut palms that thrive
here. They are to be found in all stages of growth, and close to the
water's edge.
On the one tree you can see a whole family of nuts, from the baby, the
size of a walnut, to the fully-matured, the size of a human head.
It is from Milne Bay that the greater part of the copra is obtained. I
should estimate the total population of the bay to be not far short of
8,000. From this number a very fair idea of the quantities of yams,
taro, etc., necessary for home consumption, may be formed.
We remained at anchor one night and at 7 a.m. the next day decided to
weigh anchor, and continue our journey. Easier said than done. Two of
us worked at the winch, heaved the chain short, when, to our
discomfiture, the anchor obstinately refused to leave its watery bed.
We tugged and swore, then swore and tugged, but all to no purpose. The
anchor, which was a heavy one, had evidently got foul of a lump of
coral, and do what we could we were unable to influence it. We were in
about seven fathoms of water, and in dangerous proximity to a coral
reef, just on our lee. To add to the mortification of our enforced
imprisonment, the breeze was every moment increasing in strength. Of
course we might have slipped our cable, but what should we have down
with only a light anchor to depend upon? We should have been obliged to
relinquish our voyage, and return to China Straits. Seeing some natives
on the beach we hailed them, when they at once boarded us. Upon
offering them several sticks of tobacco, three of them dived and
attempted to free the anchor. The attempt proved futile, as the water
was too deep for them. We then got out a kedge anchor, and hoisted the
mainsail, but all of no avail.
We now held a consultation, and one of us suggested we should slip the
cable.
We decided, after a few minutes' rest, to have one more trial, and if
unsuccessful to leave our anchor at the bottom of the ocean, and return
to port. After numerous efforts, we felt a sudden jerk, when up came
the anchor with a large lump of coral attached to it. We were soon
under weigh, and after beating for several hours under a strong breeze,
came to an anchorage close to a native village on Lydia Island.
This island is immediately abreast of Normanby Island or Du-au. There
are numerous villages here, and all the hills are covered with
plantations. The natives, too, are superior, and, in my opinion,
thoroughly to be trusted. A native chief, named Paulo, owns
considerable property on the island, and therefore has great influence.
I have often met him, and have invariably found him to be trustworthy.
He is not particularly handsome, having a mouth of enormous dimensions,
as large as an ordinary letter-box. His headquarters are at "Quato,"
but he often spends a couple of weeks at his country residence on Lydia
Island.
As we had a long journey before us we obtained from the natives a large
quantity of firewood, and filled up our water tank and cask, as, on a
voyage of any extent, those are the two most important items. We
invited one of the natives to accompany us on the trip. He signified
his willingness, and came on board. We made a start early the next
morning, and after accompanying us for a mile, he jumped into his canoe
and returned home. As we purposed going such a great distance, he
considered the chances of coming back very remote and uncertain. He
would have come in very handy for cutting up firewood and boiling yams,
otherwise we were just as well without him.
The harbour we had just left is an excellent one, with good holding
ground and perfectly sheltered from all winds.
We had to navigate between several dangerous-looking coral reefs, and
in a few hours rounded Cape Ventenat, the south end of Normanby Island.
Canoes came from the shore loaded with yams, etc., which we purchased
from the natives, keeping our vessel close-hauled, in order to permit
of their approach.
We soon left them far behind, and passed close to the small island
"Digaragara." This last is memorable on account of the terrible tragedy
that took place there a few years previously.
A young man, Fred Miller, who was engaged in the Beche-de-mer fishery,
had a smoke house on this island, and employed several of the savages.
His boat was on the beach, and he was superintending the curing of the
fish, when the natives, without any warning, suddenly made a dash at
him. Some held him while the others put an end to him with their
"tomahawks." Miller had always treated the natives well, and had never
interfered with or molested them in any way. It was simply their lust
of plunder, added to the distinction gained by obtaining a human head.
Were these diabolical savages punished for this outrage?
I regret to say no. Nothing was done to them. It was only another white
man added to their list of victims. His murderers are to this day
enjoying their full liberty, and doubtless, when seated around the camp
fires, recount to their friends, with careless glee, the history of
their terrible deeds.
Everyone who had known Miller, and he had many friends, was furious
when he heard the details of the massacre.
The natives of Normanby have always been of a stubborn and hostile
disposition, refusing to have anything to do with the white man, or to
have any trading relations with him. Maybe this is partly owing to the
terrible scenes enacted by those on board the _Hopeful_ seven years
ago. The _Hopeful_ was a schooner engaged in the labour trade.
She was accustomed to make voyages to the South Seas for the purpose of
obtaining Kanaka labourers for the sugar plantations in Queensland. The
term of their indentures was three years, when they had to be restored
to their homes.
About the year 1883, finding the business in the South Seas rather
overdone, she turned her attention to New Guinea.
A man of the name of Williams was the captain in command of her, and
McNeil acted as Government agent. They proceeded to Normanby Island for
recruiting purposes.
Instead of obtaining recruits in a legitimate way, they behaved in the
most brutal manner. Armed to the teeth, they landed in one of their
boats and kidnapped the natives against their will. If any struggled
they shot them down without mercy, and even shot them in the water as
they were swimming from their canoes to the shore.
After killing many, and imprisoning as many as they could on board,
they sailed to Queensland, where they landed their living freight.
They say "murder will out," and so it did in this instance. The
Government, immediately upon hearing of their outrageous conduct,
arrested McNeil and Williams, and at the same time caused the unwilling
immigrants to be returned to their island homes. In due course the two
culprits were tried, found guilty, and sentenced to be hanged. As is
fashionable in such cases, a monster petition was got up by the people
of Queensland to reprieve these murderers, and laid before the
Executive Council. After long deliberation the Council commuted the
sentence to penal servitude for life, the _first five years in irons_.
One of the prisoners (McNeil) died in his irons. The Queensland
Government also strictly forbade any more recruiting in New Guinea, so
_that_ was the last time natives in New Guinea were torn from their
homes. Recruiting is still permitted in the South Seas, but the
regulations in force are most strict.
At the time of my leaving Queensland for this country, namely,
November, 1889, the Government were seriously considering the
advisability of prohibiting further importation of Kanaka labour.
To this, of course, the planters seriously objected, as they maintain
they cannot afford to work their plantations with white labour.
The _Hopeful_ massacres have undoubtedly caused reprisals on the part
of the Normanby Islanders, and not without excuse.
Unfortunately the innocent have to suffer for the sins of the guilty.
* * * * *
We now laid our course for the "Woodlark Islands," 70 miles to the
north-east. We hugged the coast of Normanby as far as Cape Pearson,
when we stood out to sea. The coast up to this point is very bold and
rugged.
A square block of frowning mountains runs from Cape Ventenat to Cape
Pearson.
Loud claps of thunder reverberated through the hills; black clouds were
sailing along with threatening aspect. Strong gusts of wind burst with
fury against our little craft as she tore through the seething foam.
We were travelling eight knots an hour--a great speed for a boat of 12
tons. Luckily, the wind was pretty favourable, otherwise we should have
had a bad time of it. As it was, we deemed it prudent to close reef the
mainsail and jib. Evidently we were in for a dirty night, as the wind
hourly increased in strength. Our boat, however, was staunch and true,
and laughed at wind and storm.
Darkness suddenly fell on us, as, in tropical countries, no sooner has
the sun set than night spreads her black mantle over land and sea.
After careering for some hours at a breakneck speed, we began to think
it was high time to "heave to." We roughly estimated the distance we
had travelled and our proximity to a large island. Knowing that a reef
extended from this island, we were most anxious to keep it at a
respectful distance, as to run on to it at the rate of eight knots an
hour meant certain destruction, as a heavy sea was breaking on it.
I suggested "heaving to," at 10.00 p.m., but my two comrades considered
9.30 to be safer, so, being in the minority, I gave in. Fortunate for
us that we did so.
"Heaving to" with half a gale blowing, and a heavy sea running is
rather a delicate matter. We took up our respective stations, and
watching a good opportunity, sung out "ready" when, with the exception
of shipping half-a-dozen buckets of water, the manoeuvre was
successfully carried out.
Everything was made as snug as possible, but we prepared ourselves to
spend an anxious and restless night.
The wind still held sway. How our little craft did "job" about! There
was no sleep for any of us that night. The whole of our attention was
concentrated on the boat, as the slightest carelessness or neglect, in
such a sea, on our part, would almost certainly have fatal
consequences.
As the first streaks of dawn lined the horizon our position was made
known to us.
To our great surprise, there, right in front of us, not 200 yards away,
stood the island, with the coral reef merely a few boats' lengths
ahead. We realized that we had had a narrow escape. Where should we
have been had we "stood on" for a few seconds longer the previous
night? Dashed to pieces amongst the coral rocks, and food for the
sharks. In less than two minutes we had slackened the sheets and away
we tore, our lee gunwale under water most of the time, beating our way
to "Egum" (Little Woodlarks), 10 miles to the eastward, which we were
glad to reach at 5 o'clock that evening.
Directly the sails were furled and everything made fast, we were
honoured by a succession of visitors, both men and women. It is very
unusual for the latter to come spontaneously on board. The chief's wife
welcomed us to the island, and stated that a dish of yams was being
prepared for our delectation. We sent on shore a billy-can and some
tea, thus saving us the trouble of boiling it on board. We felt rather
tired with our tempestuous voyage, and were glad of a rest.
Our most distinguished visitor was "Tokaiakus," the Dwarf.
Not having met him before, I was introduced with due ceremony. In all
my travels I had never beheld such a curiosity. Let me endeavour to
describe him. Imagine a man 3 feet 6 inches in height, of a chocolate
colour, 35 years of age, having a Herculean chest, with arms the length
of a child's. An immense head covered with a shock of hair falling on
his neck in ringlets, a flat nose, and a mouth stretching from ear to
ear. Add to all a light summer suit consisting of a palm leaf round his
loins, and the picture is complete. He was, without exception, the most
monstrous specimen of Papuan humanity in the whole of New Guinea. As
both he and I understood the language spoken on the southeast coast, we
soon became on friendly terms.
The chief of "Egum" was absent, having gone on a cruise to the
"Trobriand Islands," and was not expected back for a month. The houses
on "Egum" were different from those we had been accustomed to. Instead
of being built on blocks they were level with the ground. The anchorage
here is quite sheltered, being close in to a small reef.
The difficulty is in reaching it; once there you are in still water and
can remain at anchor without fear of dragging. In navigating these
parts you have to trust mainly to your eyesight as it is practically
unsurveyed. A chart would only lead to confusion and maybe into peril.
"Egum" is connected with another small island by a coral reef on which
the surf breaks with some violence. This reef lies to the E.N.E.
About sundown the natives came off with the yams and tea prepared for
us.
They had boiled the yams in coco-nut milk, which is far preferable to
water. We fell to with a will, the sea air having given us a good
appetite. We showed our visitors over the vessel, when they expressed
their admiration at everything they saw. They had never seen a vessel
of such large dimensions, viz. 12 tons.
They were particularly interested in a cabinet photograph of a young
lady, which adorned our cabin. We explained to them that it was a "Sina
Dim-dim," _i.e._ a White Lady, in fact was the wife of one of us. In
answer to our queries they considered her "_very good_."
After supper two of us took the dinghy and rowed on shore, leaving our
mate in charge of the cutter.
The island contains about 30 inhabitants. We were quickly surrounded by
the entire population. They were very anxious to know how long we
intended to stay and whither we were bound? We informed them we were
going a long way over the sea to a strange land, and could not possibly
return for at least a month, but that we would not fail to give them a
call on our way back.
The next morning we went to the adjoining island, where we bagged three
or four pigeons. We also obtained some Beche-de-mer from the natives,
for which we paid them in tobacco.
I had hoped to meet a native princess, the daughter of the chief of the
Woodlarks, but was doomed to disappointment. I had received a glowing
description of her beauty, and my curiosity was excited. However, I had
the pleasure of seeing her on my return visit.
A small cutter belonging to us, named the "_A----s_" had left "Egum"
for the Trobriand Group a few days previous, so, as we wished to fall
in with her, we decided to sail on the following day. We invited the
dwarf and a boy of the name of Sindiwaia to accompany us, promising to
bring them safely home in one "moon."
To our astonishment they both accepted our kind offer, notwithstanding
we were bound for New Britain, a country they had never heard of. After
taking an affectionate farewell of their friends they came on board
with their luggage. Their luggage consisted of two bau-bau pipes, a few
betel nuts and two or three native mats. Whatever wardrobe they
possessed was left on shore. We conducted them to the "hold," which was
to be their sleeping quarters during the trip. They stowed their
worldly possessions down below and prepared to enjoy themselves. It
showed great pluck in them, trusting themselves so far away from home
and for so long a period.
Our number was now increased to five, quite enough for so small a
craft. Having finished our business, we left for the Trobriands, hoping
to overtake the cutter "_A----s_," although we were ignorant of where
we should meet her.
When leaving "Egum" you have to go through a barrier reef. The openings
are very narrow, therefore it behoves you to be well on the alert. Also
in this district it always appears to be blowing half a gale. It is
absolutely necessary for one man to stand in the bows and give warning
to the helmsman of any reefs or shoals. You can always recognise them
by the discoloured water. We often had to sail a distance of five miles
with but a couple of feet of water under our keel and on the constant
look out for "gibbers" or rocks. It is said "Without danger or chance
of mishap, travel is never worth a rap."
Nevertheless we should have been quite satisfied to dispense with coral
reefs and sunken rocks. It will be years before these parts of New
Guinea are surveyed. With one or two narrow escapes we managed to keep
clear of the hidden dangers and at about four o'clock in the afternoon
were in sight of the Trobriands. Knowing that our cutter "_A----s_" was
sure to have called at Lagrandiere, one of the islands of the group, we
determined to visit it, hoping by good luck either to meet her there or
learn her whereabouts.
The evening was a beautiful one. A steady breeze was blowing from the
south-east and a few miles to the north-east lay the island to which we
bound. The lurid sun was just about to set, and the sea was calm save a
gentle ripple. All nature smiled, as if conscious of her beauty. It was
the most enchanting hour of day--Sunset--whose delights are made more
precious by their brevity. Alas, the varied colours are soon blotted
out and transmuted into a sombre black, but as we gazed on that scene
of sea and sky, the sin and sorrow of the world seemed to fade from our
memory.
Half-an-hour later we dropped anchor within 20 yards of the shore, and
to our delight found the cutter "_A----s_" already there, completely
surrounded by canoes full of wild and dusky savages. To tell the truth,
they were more glad to see us than we to see them, as there being but
two of them, and their boat a small one, it was as much as they could
manage to keep the savages in check. They had been obliged to draw
their revolvers and for some time had been in considerable danger of
their lives. We anchored close alongside of them, when there was much
rejoicing and shaking of hands.
We now mustered altogether five white men and four blacks, so that we
could have offered a strong resistance. As our boat was the larger of
the two, our friends came on board of her, where we all dined together.
What a pleasure it is to meet friends unexpectedly, especially in a
lonely spot unfrequented by white men and surrounded by hordes of
shrieking demons, armed with clubs and spears, who might at any time
use them. Dozens of magnificent canoes, with from 20 to 30 warriors in
each, encircled us, and beyond, a perfect "flotilla" of them. All their
occupants stood up, craning their necks forward, striving to get a
glimpse of the mysterious white men.
What was there to prevent them from killing us and capturing our
vessels? It certainly was not the fear of our fire-arms, for the
natives of this district are perfectly ignorant of the destructive
powers of a rifle or a revolver. It was their gross superstition. They
believe the white man to be a species of "Devil," and possessed of
supernatural powers. How fortunate is such a belief for us; were it
otherwise, if they only knew we were ordinary mortals like themselves,
it would be necessary to educate their respect for us by a course of
instruction in musketry.
We had a right merry evening. Our skipper played on the violin, toasts
were given and taken, and our several experiences recounted since last
we had met, seven weeks since. Although nature has not gifted me with a
fine voice, I treated the company to a song, my friend accompanying me
on the violin. The hours flew by until one of our number fell fast
asleep, tired out with the evening's dissipation. We put him to bed on
the hatches, with a sail and some rugs for a covering, and soon after
turned in ourselves, to woo, with more deliberation, the goddess of
slumber.
In the morning, we informed our two friends of our intention of
proceeding to New Britain, and that we hoped to meet them again in
about a month. They wished us _bon voyage_ and a safe return. They then
left us in order to visit several islands for the purpose of trading
for Beche-de-mer. We remained at Lagrandiere until the following day,
as we wished to buy a quantity of yams, and, if possible, trade with
the natives. The native town lay about two miles distant from us. It
was the largest town I had ever seen; it must have contained from 300
to 400 houses, and allowing an average of six persons to each house,
would have a population of 2,000. At sunrise, dozens of large canoes,
in full sail and crowded with natives, arrived upon the scene. Their
canoes here are magnificent, all the seams caulked, beautifully carved,
and all the sails apparently new; in fact, the canoes themselves
appeared quite new. They were infinitely superior and better finished
than any I had yet seen. Our little craft was so completely surrounded
by them that it was impossible to drop a potato overboard without the
risk of its falling into one of them. What a chatter they kept up!
Imagine several hundred native throats shouting at the same time.
Several of them had harsh, discordant voices, and they were the ones
who talked the loudest and longest. If anything out of the common
attracted their attention they would one and all send up a piercing
shriek, which, unless you were accustomed to their peculiar ways, would
terrify you.
We allowed a few to come on board, but the difficulty was to prevent
all of them doing so. I had to keep constantly rushing to the sides of
the vessel with a naked sword, slashing at them in order to keep them
in their canoes. Once let a number obtain a foothold on board, and you
put yourself in their power. At any moment they may obtain possession
of the vessel, and then good-bye to dear life. So long as savages
believe that you have power over them, you have nothing to fear.
Immediately you allow them to consider you in danger or anxious, look
out for squalls. Take a man who enters a den of wild beasts, what is it
that prevents him being torn to pieces? Is it that he is stronger than
those wild beasts? Nothing of the kind. If only those beasts had the
knowledge of their power, they would not think twice before springing
upon and devouring him. The true reason is that the man shows no fear.
From his manner and his behaviour, these wild animals infer that he is
not afraid of them, and consequently believe that he possesses some
hidden power greater than theirs.
It is this and this alone that keeps them in check and closes their
mouths. It is just the same with the civilized white man and the true
wild savage. Once show the white feather and all is up. Keep your head
cool, show a bold front, and keep your eyes about you, and the command
you will have over them is astonishing. The whole livelong day, one of
us had to sit on the scuttle, keeping a sharp lookout all round the
vessel, a naked sword in hand, a loaded revolver in his belt and a
couple of Winchester rifles fully primed in the cabin, all ready for
use. The remaining two of us were engaged in bartering with the natives
for spears, clubs, shields, "chunam" knives, wooden fishhooks, ebony
paper-cutters, and even "gods." We also purchased about a ton of yams,
which we could easily dispose of at a good profit, in New Britain. Our
two native companions, Tokaiakus and Sindiwaia, were unable to speak
the language of this part, so we had to do all our business by signs.
Tobacco is unknown here, and they would not accept any. Hoop-iron was
their great desideratum. Luckily we had some on board. We also did some
trading in empty beer-bottles. We first drank the beer, and then
exchanged the bottles for Beche-de-mer. If this method of exchange
would only last, the profits of Beche-de-mering would be enormous. But
after a time they got tired of glass bottles. To hoop-iron they were
constant. In time, of course, tobacco will become the chief article of
trade, but then, tobacco is expensive. Trade tobacco costs in
Queensland, 1_s._ 3_d._ per lb., then there is the transit, say 1_d._
per pound, and New Guinea duty of 1_s._, so it costs you 2_s._ 4_d._
per lb. on board. Hoop-iron, on the other hand, is very cheap, and it
does not matter how inferior the quality so long as it _is_ hoop-iron.
With hoop-iron they can improve their tools and weapons, thus saving
them much labour.
I determined to go on shore, so having told my comrades that, in event
of any danger, I would fire one shot, I strapped on my revolver,
exposing it free from its pouch and jumped into one of the canoes
alongside. By signs I intimated to them my desire, but before trusting
myself to the tender mercies of such nice-looking gentlemen, I caused
the leading man of the canoe to step on board our vessel, where he
would be held as a hostage for my personal safety. He evidently
thoroughly grasped the idea, and acquiesced in it. I was soon landed on
the beach. I had brought a towel with me, intending to have a bathe,
but considering I should have to leave my revolver on the beach, I
postponed that luxury to some future occasion.
No sooner had I landed than they all commenced jabbering to me at the
same time. I did not understand a solitary word they said, but had an
idea they wished me to accompany them to the town, which was visible in
the distance.
Being alone and unable to converse with them, I did not care to trust
myself among a couple of thousand wild animals so far away from the
cutter and with no arms but a revolver.
I shook my head as a sign that I regretted I was unable to avail myself
of their polite invitation, but whether they understood my meaning or
not I cannot say.
The island I found to be very low land, not a solitary hill on it,
covered with light small bushes or trees, with a sandy, dry soil.
Notwithstanding this, there is a plentiful supply of yams; in fact,
they have plenty to spare. There would be no difficulty in obtaining a
cargo of 10 to 20 tons.
All the islands of the Trobriand Group are low-lying, thickly
populated, and well supplied with food. The natives of Lagrandiere are
well-built, fine-looking men, dark-skinned, and are constantly on the
war-path. At the time of our visit, they had just returned from one of
their predatory expeditions, covered with glory, and laden with the
spoils of war. They had completely routed the enemy, and had burnt
their villages. We may deplore the brutality of these intertribal
fights, but it is the sefights or wars that perpetuate the race by
saving its members from the fatal effects of sloth, and a lack of
interest in life. If in Europe even, all war or chance of war were at
an end, the spirit of true manliness might in time languish, despite
the duties, occupations, and generous ambitions of civilization.
A great chief, if not the greatest in New Guinea, resides in the
Trobriands, and holds dominion over them.
He has a splendid house to live in, and a large retinue of slaves. He
never walks a yard, but is always carried on a kind of sedan-chair or
stretcher. His word is law, and his influence over the natives of his
kingdom very great.
This is no romance.
He is verily a king. In most districts of New Guinea the chiefs are
generally the leading men of the village, with a certain amount of
influence, but not to any great extent.
In this case it is quite different. The king of the Trobriands is as
much a king to his subjects as the autocratic Czar is to the serfs of
Russia. I was extremely disappointed at not seeing him. Unfortunately
he was absent from home, and would not be back for a week or so.
The natives took the most absorbing interest in our cutter. They gazed
at it in wonder and astonishment. They felt it in their hands to make
sure it was a reality and not an empty delusion. We steered by a wheel.
The wheel seemed to take their fancy immensely. Every now and then,
when something fresh attracted their notice, they would rend the skies
with their shouts, their mouths wide open with astonishment and
admiration. We were no less surprised at the beautiful construction of
their canoes, but did not exhibit our feelings in so marked a manner.
They stayed by us from sunrise to sunset. They ought to have felt
tired, as they never stopped talking, and stood up most of the time.
At sundown they left us in peace, and sailed back to their town, which
was glistening in the distance. It was a moving sight. Here were we
three, over a hundred miles from the nearest white man, calmly sitting
on deck, watching a large fleet of canoes full of wild and treacherous
savages wending their way homewards. What a relief to be rid of them.
There is nothing so tiring and trying to the system as being
continuously, for hours together, on the watch lest you be taken
suddenly by surprise and cruelly murdered. We felt thoroughly wearied
out, and longed to get away from their unceasing attentions. We knew
they would not visit us again until the first thing in the morning, so
we took the opportunity to discuss our future plans.
We decided to leave for the Duke of York Islands at break of day.
Not having been there before, we got out a general chart, which we
studied with great interest. We carried a sextant and compass, so we
entertained no difficulty in reaching our destination. We had no "sheet
charts," but that was of no great moment. The south-east "trades" were
still blowing, and we hoped they would hold with us until we commenced
our return voyage, when we trusted to be favoured with the north-west
monsoon, as the winds generally veer to that quarter towards the end of
December.
Having obtained a plentiful supply of yams, and a couple of bags of
Beche-de-mer, we took farewell of "Lagrandiere," steering our course
due north.
We passed through a perfect archipelago of islands, and on the second
day rounded Jurien. Although we did not land, I took a great interest
in this island. Several years ago the schooner _Kate Kearney_ left
Queensland for New Guinea, for the purpose of engaging in the
Beche-de-mer fishery. On board of her was a great friend of mine, named
McDonnell. She was successful in obtaining a large quantity of fish,
but through a series of gales she found herself at Jurien Island almost
dismasted, and minus sails, etc. Here she had perforce to remain at
anchor for six months. The anchorage is in a narrow passage between
Jurien and a smaller island, and completely hidden from passing
vessels. They were obliged to remain prisoners here until the change of
the monsoon to the north-west, as without a favourable wind in their
then disabled state, it would have been impossible for them to have
reached a port. From their isolated position, and the fact of being
right out of the track of any vessels, not a word of their fate reached
Queensland. They were six months overdue, during which time nothing had
been seen or heard of them. The vessel and her crew had long been given
up as lost.
McDonnell's family, who lived in Brisbane, having hoped against hope,
reluctantly numbered their son with the dead. They went into mourning,
stricken with grief at the untimely fate of their cherished offspring.
Imagine their intense joy and surprise upon receiving a telegram from
their long-lost son, who had arrived safely in the _Kate Kearney_ at
Cooktown, safe and sound. The meeting that took place, when so many
emotions must have contended for the mastery, is not mine to describe.
It may be of interest to relate that about a year afterwards the
_Kate Kearney_ was wrecked during a flood off the mouth of the
Endeavour River.
After leaving North Island, which is the outermost one of the Trobriand
group, we were soon in mid-ocean, steering a direct course for the Duke
of York Islands. The wind holding good, we presently made St. George's
Channel, the coast of New Ireland close on our starboard, and the
island of New Britain on our port.
We were now within 70 miles of our destination, "Mioko." The channel is
about 15 miles broad, the soundings deep, and the coast "steep to."
No sooner had we got into mid-channel than we were treated to a
succession of thunderstorms, with the rain pouring down in torrents,
accompanied by violent gusts of wind. It is only in the tropics that
such rain can be seen. Although well provided with oilskins, we were
literally drenched to the skin. There was evidently a terrible leak in
the heavens above.
A few hours later a grand sight enthralled us. A magnificent waterspout
appeared not a mile to windward of us, doubtless evolved by the recent
heavy rain-pour. The surface of the sea had become an active fountain
surmounted by a vast funnel-shaped column reaching to the clouds above.
It was travelling in a southerly direction in dangerous proximity to
our vessel. We deemed it prudent to "keep her away" a couple of points,
when shortly we had the satisfaction of seeing it burst and vanish into
thin air. Had this waterspout struck our little craft, this narrative
would never have been written, for the writer of it would have been
quietly resting in the bed of St. George's Channel.
We were hugging the coast of New Ireland when, rather to our surprise,
a group of low islands, one of them conspicuous from a solitary tree
standing out in bold relief on it, hove in sight. Making sure that
these must be the Duke of York Islands, we slightly altered our course,
and after a smart run of three hours, entered the passage, which is
close to the island with the above-mentioned tree, and anchored in the
lovely harbour of "Mioko," within a few yards of the shore.
CHAPTER VII.
BISMARCK ARCHIPELAGO.
Leaving our "Dwarf" in charge of the cutter, we paid a visit to Mr.
H----r, the manager of the "Mioko" plantation. "Mioko" is one of the
Hamburg Plantation Company's branches.
They have large plantations in "Samoa," and their operations are most
extensive. Mr. H----r and his assistant, both of them Germans, were the
sole representatives of the white race in the Duke of York group.
The manager's house, which is situated a few yards from the beach,
presented a most picturesque appearance. It was built entirely of
bamboo, with a roof of shingles; and, being lined with bamboo, was,
notwithstanding the tropical heat, always cool inside. They gave us a
hearty welcome although we were perfect strangers. To their delight
they discovered in one of us a countryman of theirs, whilst S----g was
a Norwegian, and I an Englishman.
The Germans had the advantage, being in the majority. The different
buildings of the plantation gave it the appearance of a township. A
substantial wharf extended from the beach, alongside of which a vessel
could lie and discharge her cargo. Connecting the wharf with the large
copra house were tram lines, over which the produce was conveyed in
trucks to the vessel and thence into the hold. Next to the copra house,
which was capable of storing 200 tons of copra, was a fine iron
building used as a "store," where the different articles of trade were
kept and in which were the offices of the manager. There were numerous
out-buildings of every description, all of them kept in excellent
order. At the time of our visit, the copra house contained over 100
tons of copra awaiting shipment.
Made fast to the wharf was the cutter _Atafu_, which was owned by the
plantation and was used principally for obtaining labour recruits from
the South Seas, and for visiting the different out-stations of the
company in New Ireland, supplying them with "trade" and bringing back
to "Mioko" the copra, etc., obtained.
The manager, whose dwelling was surrounded by a pretty garden kept in
scrupulous order, pressed us to be his guests for a couple of days, and
we gladly accepted. Accustomed to the wilds of New Guinea, this place
seemed to us like an "oasis" in the desert.
He kindly sent on board our craft a couple of natives whom he could
trust, telling them to look after her and keep strangers away. The
harbour is completely land-locked, being hemmed in by numerous islands,
and protected from the south-east winds by the island of "Mioko."
The captain and mate of the _Atafu_ were invited to meet us at dinner,
thus increasing our number to seven. The captain was a German, and the
mate a Yankee, so that the various nationalities were well represented.
A smart native youth, specially trained by Mr. H----r, waited at table.
He would have put to shame many a waiter at a first-rate London club.
The dinner was an excellent one, and our host full of good spirits.
After doing full justice to the good things provided, the bottle was
passed round, toasts were drunk and jokes cracked. In such a varied
assembly the fund of anecdote was inexhaustible. Everyone was enjoying
himself to the top of his bent, when unfortunately one of my mates, in
pure joke, made some _mal apropos_ remark to our host. He very
foolishly took it up in the wrong light, considered it an insult,
jumped up from his seat and rushed round to my friend, challenging him
to fight. It was a most unfortunate _contretemps_.
Had not my friend been a man of equable temperament, and with great
power of self-control, the result would have been most disastrous, and
in all likelihood Mr. H----r would have been annihilated. He had
evidently partaken too freely of the juice of the grape; or was it,
being a German, he was unable to understand a jest? However, my friend
wisely kept his temper, the storm-cloud passed over, and all was
harmony again. We learnt afterwards that our host was naturally of a
most excitable nature and was of a pugnacious disposition.
Fortunately for him, my friend, like the British lion, was not easily
roused. Like that noble animal, he was possessed of great strength, and
in a combat would have easily vanquished his antagonist. What with
singing and playing on the piano and violin, we spent a most enjoyable
evening, and did not retire to rest until the small hours.
One of us occupied the only bedroom in the house, another slept on the
sofa, whilst I camped in a hammock on the verandah.
Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour at which we retired to rest,
we were all up at six o'clock. Coffee was then served, the most
delicious coffee I had tasted for many a month. It was grown on the
plantation and was properly made. How different it tasted from the
coffee one gets in an hotel!
We had a refreshing swim in the bay, heedless of the sharks, and
returned to the house ready to tackle a substantial breakfast. Breakfast
over, by desire of Mr. H----r, we hailed our seaman-in-charge, viz.,
"Tokaiakus" the dwarf, to come on shore. He immediately responded, and
great was the astonishment on his landing on the beach. Numbers of
natives were strolling about, and they soon gathered round, gaping with
wonder at our New Guinea representative.
"Tokaiakus" was no less astonished at them, and evidently considered
his race far superior to theirs. When asked his opinion of the "Mioko"
natives, he replied, "They are no good, they go about naked, New Guinea
man he wear clothes." Different people have different opinions.
Although our dwarf was more decently dressed than they, he was not
overburdened with garments, being covered by a palm leaf. Nevertheless,
clothing has its degrees, and his was a comparative one.
In company with the manager we went over the different buildings and
inspected the various improvements. Everything was of a substantial
character, and the manager informed us that the profits of the Mioko
Branch for the year 1887 were L1,300, which, in our opinion, was very
good.
We paid a visit to the cutter, _Atafu_, and were invited by her captain
to stay to lunch. She is 37 tons register and a very smart-looking
craft, indeed we could hardly realise we were on a trading vessel, for
she had more the appearance of a gentleman's yacht. The hold was empty,
and had just been white-washed. A great bell, which rang at 9 a.m.
every day, was a signal for certain natives to proceed on board and
wash down decks.
Everything on board was scrupulously clean, and, as on board a
man-of-war, in its proper place. The captain received L12 a month and
his food, and, with such a vessel under him, I consider his lot a happy
one.
In the afternoon we strolled round the plantation. The land here is
fertile, and a large area of it is owned by the Hamburg Company. Mr.
H----r purposed going to the "Fatherland" shortly, when the managership
would fall to his assistant, and, if I may venture the remark, the
change would be a beneficial one.
Copra is the principal industry carried on, though coffee is grown to
some extent. The latter product pays well, therefore I wonder there is
not more attention paid to its cultivation.
The natives' canoes are much lighter built than those of New Guinea,
and do not carry a sail. They are used for paddling only, and never
venture out of sight of land. The natives themselves are quite distinct
from the Papuans of New Guinea, being lighter in colour and actively
made, but decidedly a lower type of humanity. The men wear no clothing
whatever, but the women have an apology for a grass petticoat. It
cannot, strictly speaking, be called a petticoat. However, they are not
quite nude.
In the evening, the conversation turning on boats, we did not fail to
sound the praises of our little craft, that had carried us so far and
so safely. The others, on the other hand, did not forget to crack up
the merits of the _Atafu_. After a lot of bragging on both sides it was
decided to settle the differences of opinion by a race between the
rival vessels. We, I may say in passing, were merely chaffing, but the
others were evidently in grim earnest. The race was fixed to take place
in the morning at 10.30, the course from Mioko to Ralume, New Britain.
The distance was 20 miles, and our vessel being only one-third the size
of the _Atafu_, we received half an hour start. The stakes were L5 a
side, but two or three private bets were made in addition. The rules to
be observed during the race were taken down in writing by the manager
and his assistant. One of the rules was "that no oar was to be used
throughout the race."
Great interest was evinced by them in the approaching contest, and the
conditions were duly signed by both parties. The captain and owners of
the _Atafu_ were quite confident of victory, and ridiculed the idea of
our having the ghost of a chance. It must be recollected that our
cutter was but 12 tons, and what chance would she have against one of
37 tons? We still believed it was simply chaff, and that no race was
intended, but the following morning they soon disabused us of that
idea. Seeing that active preparations for the match were taking place
on board the _Atafu_, it behoved us to be on the alert. We went on
board the _S----l_, got all the sails and sheets in good order, rigged
up an awning as a square sail, set our topsail, and by a little after
10 o'clock had everything ready for a start. Now that we were in for
it we determined to do our best and see if, notwithstanding our
insignificant appearance, we could not lower the "Mioko" flag, and
lessen their conceit.
A fresh south-easter was blowing, but happily not too strong to prevent
us crowding every stitch of canvas on her. The land of New Britain was
dimly visible in the distance, and a dewy freshness filled the air. Had
we made it, the weather could not have been more propitious. Our
British ensign was run up to the masthead, the anchor hoisted in, and
precisely at 10.30 Mr. H----r, having taken up a position on the wharf,
fired his revolver as a signal to be off. We were close in to the
shore, and as there was no room to manoeuvre, our skipper, S----g,
sang out, "Get out an oar and pull the bows round."
The command was promptly executed, her head paid round, the oars were
thrown down the hold, and like a greyhound from the leash she bounded
forth, straining every nerve and sinew to be first in at the "death."
The _Atafu_, in full sail, soon appeared in sight, and great was our
anxiety to discover whether she gained on us.
We held our lead, however, and at 1.30 p.m. dropped anchor off Ralume,
within a few yards of a reef. We had the sails furled, the ropes
coiled, and the "Billy" boiled, when the _Atafu_ "came to" abreast
of us, 35 minutes behind.
We lost no time in boarding her in order to sympathise with them in
their defeat. To our surprise they would not acknowledge that they had
been beaten. Upon our demanding an explanation, they stated that, in
consequence of our having used an oar at the commencement of the race,
we had lost. We had used the oar thoughtlessly, but, as they evidently
wished to make some money out of us, we promptly paid them the stakes,
which, however, they refused in the end to accept. Practically
speaking, they had been beaten on their own merits, and evidently did
not relish the fact. They had come specially from "Mioko" for the race,
and returned home the same day, considerably crestfallen and with a
higher opinion of our little craft than they had had hitherto.
"Ralume" boasts of a splendid plantation, the property of Mrs. F----h,
who is one of the best business women I have ever met. She does all the
correspondence, keeps the accounts, and personally superintends the
work of the plantation. Of course she has a manager, and a very capable
one too, but still she believes in having an eye over all. She has been
established in Ralume for ten years, and during that period has worked
wonders. They have 500 acres under cultivation, with any amount of back
country attached. The land is undulating, and the soil, which is very
rich, is cultivated right down to the sea. There is a good deal of
limestone in the neighbourhood, and the appearance of the country for
miles along the coast is very beautiful. The land is not rugged, like
that of New Ireland, but has more the appearance of an English park.
Twenty miles from the coast there is a range of mountains, the country
beyond which is supposed by the natives to be inhabited by a race of
dwarfs. This, however, has been proved to be a myth. Cotton, coffee,
and coco-nuts are grown extensively on the plantation. There are six
cotton gins working every day, and they are worked by black labourers,
imported from the South Seas. I inspected several bales of cotton which
were ready for shipment. They appeared of very good quality, and the
manager, Mr. P----, told me it realized from 1_s._ to 1_s._ 3_d._ per
pound in Sydney.
There are over 150 labourers working on the plantation, most of them
from the Solomon Islands and the remainder from New Ireland. Not a
single native of New Britain was among the number, as they will not
work except when away from their own country.
Occasionally some of the New Ireland boys attempt to escape and return
to their homes. These however are the exceptions, as the majority
appeared satisfied with their lot. They were evidently well cared for,
as those that I saw were in first-rate condition, and as jolly as
sandboys.
The Stars and Stripes were flying at the peak of the flagstaff in front
of Mrs. F----h's house, in honour of her late husband, who was an
American. She herself is a half-caste Samoan, and as intelligent and
accomplished a woman as any European.
The house is situated on the top of a high cliff, commanding a
magnificent view, with Blanche Bay a few miles to the north-west, the
Duke of York Islands in the distance, and to the eastward loomed the
towering mountains of New Ireland.
On the far side of Blanche Bay, the eye is arrested by two mountains
named respectively the "Mother" and "Daughter," conspicuous from their
peculiar formation.
The "Daughter" is the smaller of the two, and is apparently nestling by
the side of the other. Hence no doubt their names.
There is considerable volcanic activity in this neighbourhood. Close by
the mountains mentioned above, a cloud of smoke, distinctly visible, is
to be seen issuing from a fissure, which is sufficient evidence of
volcanic disturbance.
For my part I should not be surprised at any time to read in the news
of the day that an eruption or earthquake had taken place on the shores
of Blanche Bay.
Should that day come, which I trust will never be the case, then adieu
to fair "Ralume" and its fair inhabitants, good-bye to "Matupi" and its
living occupants. Blanche Bay would be no more. Who can foresee the
wondrous changes in the configuration of the land that would be wrought
by such a convulsion of nature?
God forbid that it should ever occur, but those living in the vicinity
of Blanche Bay cannot but remember the terrible upheavals that took
place only a few years ago on the north-east coast of New Ireland. They
say "sufficient for the day is the evil thereof," but I must confess I
should hesitate before purchasing a 999 or even a 99 years' lease of
land in that part of New Britain.
Ascending a steep path, we soon arrived at the Homestead, and were
fortunate in finding Mrs. F----h at home.
She had been much surprised at the sight of our cutter flying the
British flag, and was most curious to learn from what country we had
come or whether we had dropped from the clouds. We willingly satisfied
her curiosity, and told her that we had come on a piratical expedition
and in search of any adventures that might befall us.
The house was the model of a planter's home, and everything about it
bore the mark of refinement.
The arrangement of the rooms, the garden, the flowers, the ornaments,
the piano with its tomes of music and song, the books, indicative of
the reader's taste, all told us that.
To us three, who were used to rough companions, and had not seen the
face of a woman, save in New Guinea, for many months, it was most
refreshing to meet Mrs. F----h. We felt we had reached the borders of
Paradise, and our only regret was that our stay must necessarily be a
short one.
We were all seated on the verandah, including Mrs. F----h, and enjoying
our cigarettes and lager beer, when one of the "Houris" of Paradise
arrived on the scene, and was formally introduced to us by the hostess
as Miss G----e. Her appearance completely took our breath away. My
friend, S----g was struck dumb with admiration, and no wonder, for she
was a girl of transcendent beauty. I had often read of "Houris," but
had never, until now, seen one in the flesh!
Can I describe her?
I fear not with justice. There is as much difference between my
description and the girl herself as there is between a corpse and one
who is alive.
To begin with, she had just reached her nineteenth year. She was of
medium height, having an oval face with beautiful soft dark eyes
guarded by long dark eyelashes; a clear olive complexion, with the bust
of a Venus, and with supple limbs like alabaster. Draped in a simple
morning gown, which showed to advantage the graceful outlines of her
voluptuous figure, she stepped forth like one fresh from the Garden of
Eden, and held out her hand to greet us. Was it to be wondered at that
my friend was enchanted by the vision, when two such hard-hearted
mortals as K----h and I were sensibly affected?
Mrs. F----h pioneered us over the plantation, and explained to us
everything of interest. She took great pride in her property, and well
she might. She thoroughly understood the management of a plantation, as
she had had experience of such matters in Samoa, where many years ago
her father had been a planter.
We met here Count Pfeil, a German in the service of the Government, who
acted as Customs House officer, etc. He and the Judge lived on a small
island not far from "Mioko." He had the use of a good whale-boat, in
which he visited the different plantations, etc., to collect the taxes
imposed by the German Government. He was a young man of about 28 years
of age, very handsome and with an erect carriage. He was of high birth,
but poor, so had accepted a Government berth in the Bismarck
Archipelago, receiving as salary L500 per annum.
He was well-known as an explorer, and not long ago, at the head of 100
blacks, had penetrated some distance into the interior of New Ireland.
He found the natives most hostile. They attacked his rear column,
killing several of his men. He attempted to retaliate, but they
out-manoeuvred him. He spoke of the country as very mountainous and
rugged, with good indications of minerals. He expressed his
astonishment at our not having anchored off his island and reported
ourselves to the representatives of the Government. We assumed
child-like ignorance of such things; the truth was we had purposely
passed the place, as the anchorage there is bad, and furthermore, it
was rather out of our way. He was very gentlemanly, but informed us
that he would have to impose a fine for our breach of etiquette, and
that he would board our vessel on the morrow. We thanked him and he
departed.
The manager of the plantation, Mr. P----, lived in a pretty little
house, 100 yards or so beyond the owner's.
Both he and his wife were most hospitable. They had two dear little
children, a boy and a girl, with whom the New Britain climate seemed to
agree uncommonly well. Both children were born on the plantation. A
well-kept lawn adorned the front of the house, and beds of gorgeous
flowers and shrubs, and trees of all kinds enhanced the beauty of the
surroundings. A delicious scent pervaded the atmosphere. Nature is
nowhere so lavish as in the tropics. There is such a wealth of foliage,
such a variety of colour, such a cloudless atmosphere--three things so
foreign to colder latitudes. In the words of the poet, Milton, it was
"Paradise Regained."
Just as we had worked ourselves into a sentimental mood, in keeping
with the time and place, dinner was announced. Sentiment fled, and the
practical side of life presented itself to us. To live, we must eat;
so, nothing loth, we repaired to the dining-room, where dinner awaited
us.
I had the distinguished honour of sitting on the right hand of the fair
Hebe, Miss G----e, whilst my friend, to his disappointment, was placed
next to the hostess.
My companion was charming, not only on account of her loveliness and
natural grace, but also because of her animation and conversational
powers.
She had received a first-rate education at one of the leading schools
in Sydney, and had left it a year ago. She knew German thoroughly, was
an accomplished musician, and had the voice of a nightingale. And yet
she was a half-caste Samoan.
Three lightly-clad--I might say, very lightly-clad--young waitresses
were in attendance at dinner. Two of them were natives of New Ireland,
the third, a native of the Admiralty Islands. They had been with our
hostess for two years, and had to remain for three years longer. They
were comely to look upon, and made excellent domestics.
They say--"After dinner, smoke awhile,"--so we lit our cigars and
cigarettes and burnt a sacrifice to our patron saint, St. Nicotine.
Later on in the evening, Mrs. P----n, the manager's wife, put in an
appearance; and as there were now three ladies, dancing was suggested.
Mrs. F----h kindly played on the piano, whilst we danced on the
verandah with the others.
Seeing that my friend was quite overcome by the charms of the belle of
the evening, I only danced with her once, devoting most of my attention
to Mrs. P----.
We had songs, both German and English; solos, duets, trios and
quartettes.
What a night we had! At midnight, I suggested the expediency of going
on board our cutter; but, no, my friend would not hear of it. He was
utterly infatuated. Ten minutes more, and he would come--but the ten
minutes developed into sixty--until at last I managed to drag him away
from the alluring spot.
The three of us then regretfully bade our friends good-night, and
repaired on board the cutter.
Arrived at the jetty, we hailed, in loud tones, Tokaiakus, the
Dwarf--who was supposed to be in charge of the vessel. Not a sound came
in response. We hailed him again--and again no answer.
Our dinghy was alongside the cutter, so we could not reach her without
swimming.
After shouting ourselves hoarse, and consigning the dwarf to warmer
regions, his ugly head appeared above the bulwarks, and he came in the
dinghy--into which we gladly stepped--and were quickly rowed on board.
We felt rather tired, and soon sought our couches--each of us dreaming
that he was in Paradise, attended by a bevy of Samoan damsels.
In the morning we received a visit from Count Pfeil.
He examined our "papers" and inquired what firearms we had on board,
and if we carried dynamite. Having given satisfactory answers to his
several queries he stated that he had decided to impose on us a fine of
L1 that being the lowest amount he could inflict for our evasion of the
German regulations.
We paid the fine and were invited to visit him on our departure from
New Britain. We politely accepted his invitation, but did not give him
a call, as it would have been too far out of our track. I have met, at
one time or another, a good many Germans, official and otherwise, but
for gentlemanly bearing and courtesy of manner, I unhesitatingly give
the palm to Count Pfeil.
We had nearly two tons of flour on hand which we were anxious to get
rid of, as if kept much longer it would go bad. Mrs. F----h relieved us
of one ton, and the remainder we sold to a German missionary and a
small trader.
We had numerous visitors during the day, three of them from "Matupi," a
large plantation the other side of Blanche Bay, owned by a German. The
head station is situated in the centre of a native village and on the
plantation there is a large herd of cattle. All were curious to know on
what business we had come. They had an idea that we wished to trade in
the neighbourhood, but such was not our intention. They wished us to
come up to "Matupi" and see them, but, much as we should have enjoyed
it, we refused as we were anxious to get back to New Guinea. We had
only one day to spare, and for that we had arranged a picnic.
We took "Tokaiakus" on shore and introduced him to the ladies. They
were much interested in him, for they had never seen a full-grown
native of so small a stature. "Tokaiakus" did not altogether like the
amount of attention paid him.
Several of the New Britain natives surrounded him, and with a piece of
cane measured him all over. His expression of disgust was ludicrous, so
to gratify him I said he must not take offence, as the natives were
ignorant and knew no better. He smiled one of his beatific smiles in
approbation of my sentiments.
Through Mr. P----, who can speak the language, we informed the New
Britainites that we had obtained him from the country beyond the
mountains, and this they implicitly believed. Mr. P---- who is a good
amateur photographer, photographed him in company with his little
daughter in the act of handing him a banana. The likeness was an
excellent one, but strange to say the natives of New Guinea fail to
grasp the meaning of a photo. "Tokaiakus" was greatly astonished at the
sight of two milch cows and a horse. This was the first time he had
ever seen anything of the kind. He had a wholesome dread of the cattle,
and was much surprised on hearing that they were good to eat. He
imagined the horse to be a big dog, as the latter animal is common to
New Guinea. This was also the first time he had seen a white woman, and
as they were kind to him he was favourably impressed.
Hearing that a boat was leaving early in the morning for the native
markets in Blanche Bay, I expressed a desire to go in her. The boat,
manned by twelve South Sea Islanders, labourers on the plantation,
called for me at 4.00 a.m. In Blanche Bay, which was distant from our
anchorage about five miles, three markets are held every week.
A market is also held on the plantation at Ralume. On these occasions
from 100 to 200 natives congregate on the beach. They arrive at
sunrise, having journeyed through the bush a distance of 12 miles. The
women, who are heavily laden with huge baskets of yams, etc., do the
whole of the marketing, the men simply looking on. They seat themselves
in a semi-circle beneath the palm trees, removing their loads and
spreading out their contents. The sight was a novel one to me. We
arrived at the trysting place in good time, having to wait fully
half-an-hour before the cavalcade made its appearance. Presently a low
sound was heard produced by the crackling of the leaves and twigs, when
through a narrow opening in the forest, a long line of women in single
file was exposed to view. They numbered fully 100, each carrying a
heavy load on her head. They comprised all sizes and ages, and varied
in ugliness. Most of them had strong, gaunt frames; they looked for all
the world like beasts of burden. Their appearance was rather repulsive.
They were as nude as on the day of their birth. They strongly reminded
me of a string of pack-mules wending their way through the Queensland
bush. No sooner were they seated than their tongues were loosened. They
were not too tired to talk, notwithstanding their long tramp. All were
provided with water bottles, the water for which they obtained by
digging small holes in the sand not two yards from the sea. They had
also baskets containing balls of red clay, which they use for colouring
their hair; none of them were tattooed. From their appearance and the
absolute nakedness of both men and women I place them on a far lower
scale than the natives of New Guinea. The men, who are strongly built,
with rather forbidding countenances, are impregnated with laziness.
They do absolutely nothing; while the women are engaged trading, the
men stand some distance apart and do not converse with them. They
employ their time for hours together in picking up the soft mud on the
beach, rolling it in their hands into the form of a ball, then throwing
it into the sea in order to watch the eddy made, and repeat the task
_ad infinitum_.
I watched them for a time but soon wearied of it. I busied myself
buying yams from the women. You have to pay one stick of trade tobacco
for six yams. They prefer to receive the native money called "Tambu."
It is worth two shillings per six feet. It is formed of tiny white
shells with the centre cut out, and is a rare commodity.
With this money you can buy anything you like, a wife if desired. It is
as much a standard coin of the realm as the sovereign is of the British
Empire.
New Britain is the only savage country I have been in where the natives
have a true money currency of a standard value. Some of the men wear
this money in circles round their neck, and a few of them are the happy
possessors of a mile of it. This money, which is called by the natives
"Dewarra," is never used as an ornament but solely as a medium of
exchange. The men clay their hair all colours, red, yellow, etc., it
has rather a pleasing effect. They look as if they wore wigs.
Many of them curl their hair, forming it into a mop of twisted
string-like plaits which hang all round their head in the shape of a
fringe.
Referring to the natives of New Britain Count Pfeil remarked: "They are
for the most part a tall, powerful set of people, but with all their
strength they are entirely deficient in that graceful appearance which
characterises so many negro peoples. Their figures are often plump,
and the colour of their skin is that of a pure negro mixed with a tinge
of red. Their hair is crisp, and always cleverly coated with a mixture
of ochre, chalk, or clay. Their faces present a coarse, broad mouth, a
flat nose, and very little expression."
The New Irelanders on the other hand are small and neatly built, their
countenances are expressive and their disposition lively and cunning.
The hair is dressed in a manner which makes it resemble an old Greek
helmet. In New Britain and in the central part of New Ireland there is
the custom common to both of dividing the inhabitants of a village, as
regards marriage, into two groups, "maramara," and "pikalaba."
Marriages of individuals within one of these groups would certainly be
punished with death for the woman, and for the man with a heavy penalty
of "dewarra." The children born in wedlock belong to the group of which
the mother was a member. Both divisions regard a species of locust with
special reverence. Their dead are either buried in the house or thrown
into the water. In the north-west of New Ireland the practice is
different. There the body of a chief is burnt upon a special wooden
scaffold. The calcined bones are then collected by the heir and
preserved as a memorial. Cannibalism is general throughout the country,
and the inhabitants are not ashamed to speak of it. The sagas and myths
of the people of New Britain deal mostly with obscene matters, although
every piece of obscenity is carefully covered up, and is described in
euphemisms and circumlocutions.
Having purchased a couple of tons of yams we rowed home against a very
strong tide, reaching Ralume at 5 o'clock in the evening. We dined with
Mrs. F----h the same night (Friday), and, as we were going away on the
Monday, we arranged to hold our picnic on Saturday. We decided to go to
Pigeon Island, half-way between here and Mioko. The ladies promised to
find the eatables, we the vessel and drinkables. We made the vessel as
comfortable as possible, and spread clean mats on wooden boxes, which
had to do service as seats for our fair visitors. Our two natives were
stationed at the gangway as a guard of honour, the British colours were
run up, and we awaited the arrival of our distinguished guests.
At noon we received them on board. The party comprised Mrs. F----h,
Miss G----e, the overseer's wife, and the three young native maids,
already mentioned. They had brought with them fowls, hams, tongues,
jellies, and a host of other good things, as an auctioneer would say,
"too numerous to mention." Our vessel had never before carried so
valuable a freight. Upon reaching Pigeon Island we were obliged to
place the anchor on the reef, owing to the great depth of water beyond.
The island is well-wooded, and just the spot for a picnic. It was
uninhabited, so we had it all to ourselves.
We had great difficulty in getting the dinghy over the reef, as, except
at high tide, the water is shallow.
With some trouble we landed all the goods and paraphernalia, including
a case of lager beer. The ladies had sensibly provided themselves with
a couple of hammocks, as we did not intend to return until the next day
(Sunday).
In a small clearing in the bush the dinner was set out. We had the
ground for a table, and on it a tablecloth, an unknown luxury to us,
and the canopy of Heaven for a roof. Here you are in the tropics. The
night was warm, the mosquitoes numerous. They did not trouble us much,
as we had served a long apprenticeship to their delicate attentions. It
is only "new chums" who suffer from their attacks.
The moon was well matured, and lit up the darkness of the forest,
casting a weird glamour o'er the scene. The beauty of the night
recalled to my mind those trenchant lines of Southey:
"How beautiful is night!
A dewy freshness fills the silent air;
No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain,
Breaks the serene of Heaven.
In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine
Rolls through the dark blue depths;
Beneath her steady ray
The desert circle spreads,
Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky;
How beautiful is night!"
A fire was soon burning brightly, on which a couple of pigeons we had
shot were roasting. The three maids, offering a great contrast to the
rest by their swarthy skins, were flitting to and fro, getting
everything ready for our _al fresco_ repast. We all laid to with a
will; it was astonishing the rapid way in which the viands disappeared.
For a time nothing could be heard except the tinkling of glasses and
the clinking of knives and forks.
Dinner over, Samoan mats and rugs were spread on the ground beneath the
shade of a group of palms, upon which we all reclined, smoking the
kalumet of peace, the ladies joining us with cigarettes. The time
passed rapidly until three in the morning, when the three native maids,
assisted by two of the ladies, gave, in our honour, a representation of
a Samoan dance. The dance was in harmony with the locality. We were
delighted with the exhibition. In the early morn we had a dip in the
sea, then went in quest of pigeons, but only obtained half-a-dozen. The
ladies, meanwhile, were engaged collecting oysters on the rocks. After
having exhausted the beauties of the island, we all returned on board
and sailed for Ralume, reaching that place at five o'clock on Sunday
afternoon. We accompanied our fair companions to the plantation, where
we bade them an affectionate farewell, as we could not prolong our stay
another day.
CHAPTER VIII.
RETURN VOYAGE.
The south-east "trades" were still blowing, and seeing no chance of
their abatement, we regretfully left the shores of Ralume Bay.
In St. George's Channel we met with constant baffling winds, which
greatly retarded our progress. On some days we made no more than a
mile, the strong currents causing us to make considerable leeway.
We sailed close in to the shores of New Britain and back again to New
Ireland, and so it continued day after day. We thought we should never
lose sight of the Duke of York Islands, and had half a mind to run back
to Ralume. The days were scorchingly hot, the decks not fit to stand
upon. We were obliged every few minutes to throw buckets of water on
them to enable us to move about, and to prevent the seams from opening.
It was anything but a pleasure having to steer for four hours beneath
such a sun. Down below in the little cabin it was just as bad, more
stifling, if possible. How we longed for night to cool our fevered
brows!
Not far from here, on the north-east coast of New Ireland, poor Charlie
Hunstein met his fate. I met him on several occasions. Not long since,
in 1889, he, with some others, journeyed from Finsch-hafen to New
Ireland on a botanical expedition. He arrived there safely, but in a
day or two a terrible earthquake took place, swallowing up the
unfortunate Hunstein and his followers. What a terrible destiny, to
perish in such a catastrophe without the chance of a struggle for life!
I saw the captain of one of the German New Guinea Company's steamers.
He told me he was in the habit of steaming past the spot on his way
from Finsch-hafen to the Bismarck Archipelago. Just after the disaster
he was taking the accustomed route when, to his astonishment, the usual
landmarks were nowhere to be seen. He therefore worked out his
position, and discovered that there must have been some fearful agency
at work to alter the configuration of the land in such a manner. The
whole geography of the neighbourhood had been completely transformed. A
vast expanse of land had been converted into water.
The suddenness with which such calamities occur is astonishing.
To-day everything wears its wonted appearance, but who knows what
to-morrow may bring forth? what changes may take place in Nature?
To-day a man is in robust health, proud of his strength. To-morrow all
this has vanished, and the living man has become an inanimate mass.
Our progress continued slow, until at last we sighted Cape St. George,
the southern extremity of New Ireland. The locality has an historic
interest.
Ten years ago, in the latter part of the year 1880, the ill-fated
expedition organised by the notorious Marquis de Ray landed in the
vicinity. The Marquis de Ray was a French nobleman living in Paris. He
formed a gigantic scheme for colonizing New Ireland, intending, as he
stated, to create there a New France. He caused grand plans to be
executed, showing the different lots or farms for sale--smiling farms,
with paddocks of grass, ready for occupation, and whole families of
French farmers and peasantry sold up what property they possessed, and
cheerfully paid their money deposits in Paris, thinking they were going
to a land full of promise, where they would settle on their
newly-acquired lands with their families and grow prosperous. Poor
deluded creatures! Little did they dream of the fate in store for them.
Little did they know the state of the country to which they were bound,
and that they were hurrying from the frying-pan into the fire. It is
astounding with what ease people are gulled by the plausible
representations of an adventurous schemer.
Two large vessels, the S.S. _India_, and S.S. _Genie_, were fitted
out for the expedition, each of them carrying about 300 emigrants. What
a country to attempt to colonize! The Marquis had evidently picked out
the most inhospitable place on the map. A wild, mountainous country,
a deadly climate, and populated by dense numbers of ferocious and
bloodthirsty savages! Not a white man on the island. And it was to
make their living in such a land that these people had broken up their
homes, converted all their possessions into money in order to buy
farms there, and farming implements, such as ploughs, harrows, etc.,
with which to cultivate them. What did the Marquis care if they were
all ruined, so long as he had the amount of their deposits safely in
his pockets?
After many privations on the voyage, owing to the scarcity of
provisions, they were landed in New Ireland in August. Great was their
astonishment on beholding the country of their adoption, and great was
their indignation against the cunning Marquis de Ray, who had so
cruelly deceived them.
Many sickened and died, others were starved.
They implored to be taken away from the polluted spot, and to be landed
in Australia. Some were removed to an island called Liki-Liki, where
many of them died, and upon their fate becoming known, the remainder,
broken in health and destitute of money, were landed at Noumea, New
Caledonia.
There the storekeepers and traders generously supplied them with food,
but found it impossible to get them employment. A steamer was sent by
the Government to bring them on to Sydney, where they were placed in
the immigration depot until such time as they found employment.
The unhappy immigrants could not speak a word of English, but after a
time they were drafted off up country, where they were
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