A TRIP DOWN THE PAPUAN COAST
As explained in the Preface, I have not strictly followed a chronological
order in this book, and the events narrated in this and the three
following chapters took place from May 23rd to July 20th, during the
whole of which time Rivers, Myers, and McDougall remained on Murray
Island.
The Rev. James Chalmers had very kindly sent the _Olive Branch_ to convey
those of us who wanted to go to Port Moresby, and Ray, Seligmann, Wilkin,
and myself took this opportunity to learn something about the natives of
part of the south-eastern peninsula of British New Guinea. But for this
timely aid it is most probable that we could not have got across the
Papuan Gulf.
When the boat arrived, as is usually the case, we had to scurry round
and put our outfit and apparatus together with as much expedition as
possible. By the time we started we were all pretty well tired out and
glad of a rest on this beautifully arranged and fitted-up boat. How I
wished I could have her for the whole trip. It would have been perfect!
The _Olive Branch_ is a fore-and-aft schooner 67 feet long—16⁸⁄₁₀ beam;
gross tonnage 45·96, registered tonnage 32·4; carvel built. She was built
by Lane and Brown at Whangaroa, Auckland, N.Z., in 1895. The Rev. F. W.
Walker, having been to sea before he became a missionary, was sent from
New Guinea to superintend her building, and having a master’s certificate
he sailed her back when finished. The L.M.S. allowed £600 for her—far
too little, it should have been £900—and she cost £1900! Walker with not
unnatural enthusiasm tried to improve the boat as she was being built,
and feeling his honour at stake he manfully determined to pay the balance
himself, so he temporarily retired from the society and started trading
in New Guinea. I hear he is doing very well, as he deserves to, but I am
afraid that fair trading with natives on Christian principles will not
conduce to a rapid fortune.
We had the usual medley of races on board—European (skipper and
passengers); Malay (ship’s cook, Ali, from Penang, our cook, Ontong, from
Batavia); Polynesian (first mate from Aitutaki, Hervey Group; a teacher
from Rimatara, near Tahiti; a Samoan teacher, his wife and child);
Melanesian (one boy from Keapara and three from Delena, British New
Guinea); Negroid (a negro from St Vincent, probably not full-blooded).
We made a quick passage through Flinders’ Entrance, found rollers in the
Gulf water, and as the wind was fresh most of us were _hors-de-combat_,
and turned in very early, but had a broken night owing to a great deal of
motion, noise, and rain.
_Tuesday, May 24th._—A fair sea on and plenty of movement, dull sky and
frequent squalls, and a heavy rain storm for an hour or so at noon. So
far as the uninteresting sea and dull grey weather was concerned we might
have been in English waters, but not as regards temperature—it was a
pleasant temperature, neither hot nor cold, and the wind was warm. Not
a very enjoyable day. Weather remained the same all day; too thick to
see the New Guinea coast. Noon position: lat. 8° 57′, long. 145° 42′ E.;
distance, 122 miles.
_Wednesday, May 25th._—Weather looked squally in morning, and had slight
puffs of wind with rain; but soon all wind dropped, and there we were at
11 a.m. lolling about the Papuan Gulf within sight of distant land, when
the clouds permitted it to be seen, and the steersman vainly whistling
for a wind. This kept on all day. We had a busy afternoon measuring
anthropometrically some of the crew, and Seligmann tested the tactile
sensibility of two of them. Noon position: lat. 8° 41′ N., long. 146° 5′
E.; distance, 27 miles.
_Thursday._—Calm night; sails flapping in the wind and gear rattling. A
quiet, soft morning; the continuous rain prevented bearings being taken.
The captain thought we were about 19 miles off Yule Island. Cleared up
later in the morning and had brilliant sunshine; sea perfectly calm,
but with a long, steady roll. About one o’clock a little wind sprung
up, and now, contrary to our fears, we began to hope we might anchor at
Delena that night. Noon position: lat. 8° 53′ N., long. 146° 18′ 30″ E.;
distance, 17 miles. The wind freshened slightly, which enabled us to
get to our anchorage in Hall Sound, between Delena to the east and Yule
Island to the west, about 4.45 in the afternoon. We had tea as soon as we
could, and then landed; but the sun was setting, and it would rapidly be
dark.
Delena is a small village of about twenty houses, situated on the sand
beach at the end of a range of low wooded hills. On the high ground
behind the beach are other houses, and here also is the L.M.S. Mission
Station.
The Rev. H. M. Dauncey has a large house, which is very sensibly
arranged, and must have been comparatively cheap to build. It consists
of a large platform on posts covered by a corrugated iron roof. In the
centre he has built large rooms with bamboo walls that do not go up
to the roof. Thus there is ventilation above as well as through the
walls, and instead of building the rooms in a solid block, one large
room is detached so as to leave a broad gangway for a draught of air.
The verandah is covered with creepers, and round the house are planted
a large number of brilliant variegated crotons, hybiscus, and other
shrubs, and the air was redolent with the sweet perfume of a grinadilla
that was trained over an archway which sheltered one of the paths. The
house is set in a large garden or plantation of bananas, coconuts, limes,
and other fruit trees, and a short distance off are the teachers’ and
students’ houses. Mr. Dauncey’s energy and enthusiasm, backed by those of
Matapo, have made themselves felt, and doubtless must have effect on the
natives, though of this I was naturally unable to judge. Matapo is the
native of Rimatara whom we had on board with us on the _Olive Branch_.
He had been paying a visit to friends in Torres Straits, and was now
returning home.
My first impression of the Eastern Papuans was that they are markedly
different in several characters from the Torres Straits islanders, who
are Western Papuans. They are shorter, lighter, and redder in colour,
have less rugged features, and a somewhat more refined appearance. They
are all tattooed. The younger men appear to tattoo their faces only,
though some of the old men have patterns on the arms and legs and chest.
The women are tattooed more or less all over. True tattooing, which
consists in pricking pigment into the skin, does not show on very dark
skins; indeed, the skin of most of the Eastern Papuans is often so dark
that the tattooing does not readily show on it. Like the African negroes
and the Australians, some of the Western Papuans ornament their body by
means of severe scars. This practice of scarification has now ceased in
Torres Straits and is diminishing on the mainland of New Guinea, where
the influence of the white man extends; but we have seen many men amongst
the Torres Straits islanders and Western Papuans who tattoo themselves
slightly, in imitation of Polynesian or Eastern Papuans. It appeared
to me that these people are less excitable than the Torres Straits
islanders. We did not stay long on shore that evening, as we could do
nothing in the dark.
We went ashore about eight o’clock the following morning and stayed
till about four in the afternoon. We measured half a dozen men, and
made records of their hair, eyes, skin, ears, etc. Seligmann tested the
tactile sensibility of one or two natives, and got some interesting
results. Ray gave a tune on the phonograph, and got some young people to
sing a hymn on a blank cylinder. Wilkin took some photographs.
We saw the whole process of making pots except the baking in a wood fire.
None of us had seen the manufacture of handmade pottery before, and we
were consequently much interested in it. Delena and Yule Island are the
most northerly, or westerly, points at which pottery is made along this
coast of British New Guinea. The pots are made of three shapes. The whole
is done with clay, sand, water, a board on which the clay is mixed, a
wooden beater, a stone, and a shell; no wheel is employed, but the pot is
supported in an old broken pot and can thus be easily turned round. The
women are very dexterous in using their hands and fingers, and they can
make several pots in a day. The people have not much to trade with, and
we did not see any decorated bamboo tobacco pipes.
What interested me most was a child’s toy throwing-spear. It consists of
a short, thin reed, in one end of which is inserted the mid-rib of a palm
leaflet, to represent the blade or point; but the real interest consists
in the fact that it is thrown by means of a short piece of string, one
end of which is knotted and then passed twice round its shaft; the other
end is passed twice round the index finger. The reed is held between the
thumb and other fingers, with the index finger extended; when the spear
is cast the string remains in the hand.
The use of a cord to increase the distance to which a throwing-spear or
javelin can be hurled is an ancient, though not a common contrivance.
The Greek and Roman soldiers employed a strap (ἀγκύλη or _amentum_),
which was secured to about the middle of a javelin to aid them in giving
it force or aim. In this case the strap left the hand of the thrower.
The only examples of this device I can find among recent peoples are in
the Southern New Hebrides, New Caledonia, and Loyalty Islands. Captain
Cook was the first to describe the practice, but it has been several
times recorded since the great navigator’s day. The short cord employed
by these Melanesians is knotted at one end and has a loop at the other
for the insertion of the tip of the forefinger of the right hand. The
Maori, however, used a long-handled whip, _kotaha_, for hurling javelins.
Rigid wooden spear-throwers, or, as they are generally termed,
throwing-sticks, are more widely distributed. They occur all over
Australia, and the Cape York variety was borrowed by the Western
Islanders of Torres Straits. Strangely enough, in German New Guinea a
distinct type of throwing-stick occurs sporadically. Another form of
throwing-stick occurs in America among the Eskimo and among the Conibos
and Purus of the Upper Amazon, and formerly among the ancient Mexicans.
This child’s toy may yet prove to be a link in the chain of evidence of
race migration.
These people also make very complicated string puzzles (cat’s cradle);
indeed, this amusement is widely spread in this part of the world.
There was great excitement in the afternoon over the catching of five
goats, one of whom was a full-grown “billy.” These belonged to Mr.
Dauncey, and we had to take them to another mission station. What with
the goats, ourselves, other passengers, our gear, bananas, and other
food, we had a pretty good boatload on our return to the schooner.
Soon after our arrival at Thursday Island we met Mr. Dauncey, who was
there on his way home on furlough; the only other time I had seen him
was also at Thursday Island, ten years previously, when he had just
arrived to commence his career as a missionary. Mr. Dauncey kindly said
that when I went to Delena I could take some “curios” that were lying
on his verandah. I did not forget his offer, and brought away with me
three shields, a number of small masks from the Papuan Gulf, and, best
of all, a sorcerer’s kit, which consisted of a strongly-made round cane
basket, about a foot in diameter and ten inches in height, which was
lined with the cloth-like spathe of the coconut-palm leaf. It contained
a cooking-pot, _uro_ or _keke_, that from its appearance evidently came
from Boera, inside which were the following objects:—
A small, pointed coconut receptacle (_biobio_), three inches in length,
decorated with strings of grey seeds; the medicine inside was kept
in place by a plug of bark cloth. When wishing to harm a person the
coconut is pointed to the place where the patient sits. The patient
may ultimately recover. Attached to this were the lower jaw of a baby
crocodile (_auki_), this makes dogs kill pigs, and a small bamboo tube
(_baubau_), containing a black powder which is used for decoration in a
dance.
A spine of a sting-ray (_daiadai_), which is employed thus: When a man is
enamoured of a girl from another village, who will have nothing to say to
him, he takes the spine of the sting-ray and he sticks it in the ground
where the girl has been, then he puts it in the sun for a day or two, and
finally makes it very hot over a fire. In a couple of days the girl dies.
Before dying she tells her father about the young man, and the bereaved
parents instruct a sorcery man to kill the young man by magic.
A smooth ovoid stone, three inches in length, closely surrounded with
netted string, has had pink earth rubbed over it, and was enveloped in a
piece of black cloth which was part of a man’s belt. This is taken into
the garden at planting season and held over a yam, then water is poured
over the stone so that it falls on to the yam. The stone is left on the
ground in the garden till all the yams are planted; the stone is then
returned to its bag.
Several pieces of resin were tied together with netted string in three
little parcels, one having leaves wrapped round the resin. They were
inside a small netted bag (_keape_). The bag with its contents is put
on the top of a net that is to be used for catching a turtle in the
night-time. This must be done by one man only, and no one else must see
him do it. The charm must be put away before going out to fish the next
morning. Another version was that the resin (_tomena_) is put in a fire
so that the smoke of the ignited resin rises up into the net which is
used to catch turtle or dugong. In either case it is a turtle or dugong
fishing charm.
In the pot was also a broken skull of a small turtle; three cassowary
toe-nails, one of which was hollow, being used as a protecting sheath
for a spear when hunting pigs or kangaroos, so that the point of the
spear should not break when thrown on the ground; various fragments of
a friable, whitish, shelly earth (_ăniăninadina_), which comes from
Toaripi, Lealea, and other places, and is eaten in the bush when no food
is available.
Besides these there were also rounded pebbles of various sizes (_nadi_);
two elongated ones, much larger than the others, were said to be yam
stones, and the smaller ones may also be similar charms; some of the
latter were in a bamboo tube (_baubau_), which had a protecting handle.
In an old calico bag were nodules of iron pyrites and various stones,
rounded pebbles, friable gritty rock, and a small piece of white coral
(_ladi_), etc.
I should add that on subsequent occasions I showed one or two natives the
contents of the sorcerer’s basket, and the information I have given as
to the nature of some of the objects was gathered from them. If we could
get several sorcerers to tell the truth about their own practices much
remarkable information would be obtained.
The Rev. James Chalmers gives a vivid sketch of the manner in which he
obtained the death-dealing crystal and other magic stones of a renowned
“Maiva” (Waima) sorcerer in his _Pioneering in New Guinea_.
We returned tired, hungry, and very happy.
Whilst we were at tea the Government schooner _Lokoko_ came into Hall
Sound and anchored close to Yule Island. As soon as we could, the
skipper, Ray, and I paid her a visit, but found that Dr. Blainey and
Mr. Monkton had gone ashore to visit the Sacred Heart Mission. So we
went also. Archbishop Navarre was very courteous and friendly. He quite
remembered about me, as his former colleague, Bishop Verjus, an old
friend of mine, had often spoken to him of me. We learnt no European
news, as Dr. Blainey had heard nothing later than we had, which was
the attack on Manila by the Americans, and I think the Spaniards had
capitulated. We heard of Sir William Macgregor’s movements; he was then
conducting the Governor of Queensland, Lord Lamington, and his party
about the Possession.
The captain tried to sail next morning, but there was no wind. About
midday he managed to crawl away, and we got a little wind outside; there
was also a good roll, the remains of the late heavy wind. We sailed all
night close hauled, but found next morning we had not at all advanced our
course.
The next day a heavy sea was still running, and there was a fair amount
of wind, but we only managed to cross the mouth of Redscar Bay, and get
to anchor, just before sunset, in the lee of Redscar Head. The Vanapa and
Laroki, two of the longest rivers in the central district of British New
Guinea, flow into this deep bay, and the fertile alluvial plains of this
region are dominated by the powerful Kabadi tribe.
We anchored the following afternoon off Borepada, in the lee of Haidana
Island, and a long way from the shore. Here we landed a Samoan teacher,
his wife, and their small boy, who had been paying a visit to her
brother, “Jimmy Samoa,” in Nagir. They were bound for Manumanu River, but
they could not be landed in Redscar Bay owing to the swell. Just after
we anchored, Seligmann shot a frigate bird. I particularly wanted one,
as this is the sacred bird of the West Pacific, and enters so largely
into the decorative art of the archipelagoes off the south-east end of
New Guinea. The bird has a lordly flight, and it is a fine sight to
see several of them sailing high in the air; it seemed cruel, however,
to kill the poor thing. Unfortunately, the rats on board the schooner
destroyed the skin.
As we could not land the previous night the captain gave us a chance
next morning (May 31st); so we were called before 5 a.m., had cocoa and
biscuits, and started before sunrise with the rest of the teacher’s
goods. The houses are of the ordinary Motu type, only slightly different
from the Delena houses, and at high tide (as it was when we landed) some
of the houses stand in the water with a long narrow gangway stretching
to the beach above high water. We did a small trade in decorated lime
gourds, bamboo pipes, and other objects. I found that the people made
very little themselves, some of the specimens we bought came from
Toaripi, over a hundred miles to the north-west, and others from Bulaa,
seventy miles to the south-east! They apparently do not decorate the
articles they make, and yet the women are very richly tattooed with
various designs, but the men are only slightly so, and that chiefly a
few broken lines on the face. I made a careful copy of the tattooing
on the body and arm of one young woman; she posed excellently, and
evidently felt very proud of her patterns being recorded, especially as
a noisy crowd collected around us, and when I sketched a tattoo mark, the
onlookers told her or touched the actual patterns as I drew them.
We also bought some flutes with two holes only, and one or two rounded
stones which are used as charms to make the yams grow. We had great value
for the hour and a quarter we were on shore; at leaving we saw several
natives hacking away at a live turtle which was lying on its back, and
happy children were collecting the blood in vessels. It was not an
edifying spectacle. We parted in a very friendly spirit with the natives,
and as the boat was leaving the shore I gave a scramble for bits of
tobacco.
We entered the harbour of Port Moresby at one o’clock, and soon came to
an anchorage off the Government offices. The Mission Station and village
must be nearly two miles from the incipient township, and the Governor’s
Residency is between the two, but nearer the Mission premises.
As soon as the Hon. D. Ballantine, the Treasurer and Collector of
Customs, had boarded us, we landed in his boat and called on the Hon.
A. Musgrave, the Government Secretary. He received us very kindly, and
promised to do all he could to forward my plans. He informed me that they
were getting up a grand dance at Hula (Bulaa), and that as the harvest
had been exceptionally good there was plenty of food, and the people had
spare time. He expected inland tribes would come down, and that there
would be a great crowd, perhaps a couple of thousand natives; but this
proved to be one of those reports that arise one knows not where, and
which disappear on inquiry like a morning mist. I gathered that the dance
was got up for Sir William Macgregor and Lord Lamington. Naturally I was
very keen to go, but as the _Olive Branch_ would be delayed by having to
be run up on the slip to be scraped and repaired, she would not be able
to get down in time, so Mr. Musgrave very kindly offered me a Government
schooner, which he immediately got ready, so that we might start as soon
as possible.
I called on Mr. Gors, the manager of Burns, Philp, and Co., the great
Queensland and New Guinea trading firm. He is a very pleasant fellow
and a good man of business, who did what he could to help us. I noticed
hanging up behind a door of the store a number of strings of worked
shell, such as the natives wear round their necks all along the coast. As
I was asking about them, two or three all but nude Papuan boys came into
the store and bought a couple for one shilling each. It seemed so strange
to see natives buying a native ornament, which is used as shell-money, in
a large store with coin of the realm.
Had a busy time the following day arranging about our trip to the east
and buying “trade” and “tucker.” Everyone was very kind and helpful. Mr.
Musgrave gave us dinner in the hotel, then we had afternoon tea in his
house. I dined there in the evening, and later went on to Ballantine, who
had an informal lantern show of local slides which were very interesting.
A crew had been got together for us, so that we might start at daybreak
the next day.
We got off early in the morning of June 2nd in the _Peuleule_, and
arrived about four o’clock off Gaile, or Kaile (but the real name is Tava
Tava), a marine pile village which is built perhaps a quarter of a mile
from the shore on the fringing reef; but some houses are now built on the
shore. Sir William Macgregor, the then Lieutenant-Governor, encouraged
this innovation; but Mr. A. C. English, the very efficient Government
agent for this district, states it is regrettable from a sanitary point
of view, as the natives are far cleaner and healthier in their villages
built over the salt water.
We were met by the teacher, a Port Moresby native, who accompanied us
all the time and acted as interpreter. We photographed the village from
the shore, with a group of natives on the sand beach. All the women were
richly and thoroughly tattooed. We got off in a canoe paddled by girls,
and clambered up the horizontal poles that serve as a ladder to one of
the houses, and wandered from one end of the village to the other along
the platforms. The planks of which the platforms are made are irregularly
placed, often with spaces between them; and one has to cross from the
platform of one house to another on poles which may be fastened or may
merely be lying loose. The natives run along these easily with their bare
feet, but we, with our boots on, found it a very different matter.
[Illustration: PLATE XIII
THE MARINE VILLAGE OF GAILE
BULAA]
Crouching behind and beside the entrance of one house was a widow in
mourning for her recently deceased husband; her head was shaved, her body
smeared all over with charcoal, her chest was covered with netting, she
wore a long petticoat, elongated tassels of grey seeds (_Coix lachrymæ_)
hung from her ears, and on each arm she had four widely separated
armlets of coix seeds, and round her neck were numerous necklaces and
ornaments. She would not come on to the platform to be photographed, the
reason assigned being that she would get a bad name for disrespect to
the memory of her husband if she showed herself in public. She had no
objection to being photographed in the house; but that was impossible as
it was so dark.
Although all the people fish, one man had a great display of nets, and he
was pointed out as the chief fisherman of the village; probably he was
more expert than the others, and so had become more wealthy. We bought
a few ethnographical specimens, and we were surprised to find that they
wanted money for everything, and prices as a rule ran very high. We
stayed so late that the sun had set before we got away.
We started fairly early on June 3rd, but as the wind was against us we
had to make any number of tacks and our progress was exceedingly slow,
and it was very wet sailing. The weather was, however, favourable enough,
and we had a fine panorama of the coast and of the tier upon tier of
hilly land behind that became lost to view in the misty distance. The
hills appeared to be but thinly covered with trees, and presented a great
contrast to the dense umbrageous foliage that overwhelms the mountainous
Philippine Islands.
Taking the south-east peninsula of New Guinea as a whole, it is composed
of a central range of lofty mountains, consisting largely of gneiss,
slates, and crystalline schists of uncertain age, which, so far as is
known, have an east-north-east strike. The less lofty lateral mountains,
which form occasional massives, are composed of acidic and basic volcanic
rocks, of which the former appear to predominate. To the east these
mountains are bounded by contorted Tertiary beds that form a tumultuous
hilly country, which extends to the coast-line. Most of the mountains and
hills appear to be built up of contorted or much-tilted beds, and may be
described as well-dissected folded mountain ranges.
But few extensive alluvial plains occur in the peninsula. The lower
reaches of the Laroki and Vanapa rivers and the basin of the Aroa
constitute a very fertile plain, inhabited by the well-to-do, independent
Kabadi tribe, who exchange all kinds of native food for the earthenware
vessels of the Motu potters. The largest of these plains is found in the
Mekeo district, and here the natives seem to have advanced further from
savagery in several respects than elsewhere on the mainland.
We arrived at Siruwai, or Kăpăkăpă as it is generally called, about
12.30; after lunch we went ashore in a whale boat brought to us by the
L.M.S. teacher, a native of Niue, an island in the South Pacific.
Kăpăkăpă is essentially a marine village, but there are a few houses on
the land, also several elaborately carved wooden platforms, or _dubus_.
The _dubus_ which are found in this region of New Guinea are taboo
platforms, or stagings, on which the men sit and feast; here also they
discuss private and public affairs. A _dubu_ is, in fact, a sort of
skeletonised club-house, which may not be approached by the women. (Plate
XVII., A, p. 232.)
Close by, jutting above the level of the water, are a number of charred
stumps which mark the site of the village of East Kăpăkăpă, which was
destroyed by a band of Bulaa men. All, or nearly all, the inhabitants
were killed, and the village destroyed by fire, a repetition of the
history of the Swiss pile dwellings. Wilkin photographed the burnt
piles, and also some houses in process of manufacture. He and Seligmann
stayed here while Ray and I walked a mile and a quarter to Vatorata
(Vatororuata) to see Dr. Lawes, the revered L.M.S. missionary and
well-known Papuan scholar.
There is a fair road along an alluvial valley-plain, through which a
small river runs. Most of the plain is covered with a tall, coarse,
broad-leafed grass, with clumps of trees. Dr. Lawes’ house is situated on
the spur of a moderately high steep hill. The Mission premises consist
of 150 acres, all fenced in. The steep road immediately up to the house
is lined by twenty students’ houses, each of which is named by or after
the donor. These comfortable little houses cost but £5 apiece to build.
Beyond these is a well-built handsome church and schoolhouse. The Mission
residency is a large, comfortable, airy house, commanding a lovely view
of mountains and lowland scenery.
Dr. Lawes, like most of the other white missionaries of the London
Missionary Society, no longer does what may be termed ordinary
evangelistic work in the midst of a village, this is performed by
South Sea teachers, but he is practically solely occupied with the
more important work of translating the Bible into Motu and in training
native teachers, who here are all married men. The students, who come
from various districts, can all read fluently, and are proficient in
arithmetic up to fractions. They are well acquainted with the geography
of Australasia, and are familiar with the position of Her Majesty the
Queen with regard to the world and British New Guinea. Naturally they
have mastered the main facts and principles of the Gospels. Their
writing, as is generally the case in these native classes, is very good.
Mrs. Lawes superintends the domestic education of the teachers’ wives.
Each wife cuts out and sews the clothes of the family, plaits mats, does
the washing, makes the starch and dresses her husband’s shirts, prepares
the food, and keeps the house clean and orderly. The husbands also work
in their food-gardens, build the houses, and make the furniture. The
advanced students conduct classes of younger ones.
I have gleaned most of the foregoing description from Sir William
Macgregor’s final report, and I cannot do better than quote his summing
up. “As far as an experience of ten years can enable one to judge, the
system of education and training initiated and now in force at Vatorata
is so suitable to the circumstances of the country and to the character
and condition of the natives, that it would be difficult to suggest any
change that would be an improvement” (p. 50). No one has had a better
opportunity of judging the value of the work done by Dr. and Mrs. Lawes
than has the late Lieutenant-Governor of British New Guinea, and it would
be unseemly for me to do more than add my testimony to the wisdom of
their methods of training teachers.
In dealing with primitive peoples the problem is constantly arising how
far it is wise that their mode of living should be altered seriously. I
imagine that nobody objects to the humanising of natives, a term which I
prefer to the somewhat ambiguous one of civilising. At the same time I
cannot refrain from pointing out that, according to some whose opinion
carries weight, the less primitive peoples are _Europeanised_ the better
it is for them.
Dr. and Mrs. Lawes gave us a very cordial reception—the former is a
veritable patriarch, the latter is very bright, and from all we have
heard and seen has proved herself to be a splendid missionary’s wife. We
had a most welcome shower-bath after the nearly as welcome afternoon tea.
Dr. Lawes sent a note to Mr. A. C. English, the Government Agent for the
Rigo District, who lives a mile and a half inland, to come across to see
us. A pencilled reply came that he was lying on the floor shivering with
a temperature of 104°, and all his blankets atop of him. Scarcely had
we finished dinner than in he walked, having adopted his usual plan of
taking exercise to shake off an attack of fever. We had a very pleasant
chat about British New Guinea, and I made some rubbings of two pipes from
an inland tribe, the type of decoration of which was new to me.
We walked back to the village of Kăpăkăpă, and happened on a dance. In
most of the figures of the dance two parallel rows of dancers faced one
another; the majority of the lads had drums, which they held in their
left hand and beat with the extended fingers of the right. A number of
lassies joined in the dance, and this was the first time in New Guinea I
had seen both sexes dancing together. There was usually a girl between
each lad, the girl on the boy’s right hand put her left arm round his
right arm.