Some six months I put in at Woodlark Island, acquiring during that time
a fine strong brand of malaria, a crop of boils, which had spread like
wildfire among the mining camps, catching Europeans and natives alike,
a little gold, and a large amount of experience; all of which were most
painfully acquired.
Sylvester, after having suffered some particularly malignant bouts of
malaria and having developed some corroding and fast-spreading mangrove
ulcers, parted company with me and went to New Zealand. The mangrove
ulcer, commonly called New Guinea sore, is, I think, quite the most
beastly thing one has to contend with on those islands; it is mainly
caused, in the first instance, by leech or mosquito bites setting up an
irritation which causes the victim to scratch; then the poisonous mud
of either mangrove or pandanus swamps gets into the abrasion, and an
indolent ulcer is set up, which slowly but perceptibly spreads, as well
as eating inward to the bone, for which I know no remedy other than a
change to a temperate climate. Painful when touched during the day, it
is agony itself when the legs stiffen at night.
The method of obtaining gold, at the time I was at Woodlark Island, was
primitive and simple in the extreme, and was performed in this way.
Having located a stream, gully or ravine, in which a “prospect” could
be found to the “dish,” the “prospect” consisting of one or more grains
of gold, the “dish” holding approximately thirty pounds weight of wash
dirt, _i.e._ gold-bearing gravel, the miner--or digger, as he is more
generally called--pegged out a claim of some fifty feet square. When
he had done this he put in a small dam, to the overflow of which he
attached a wooden box some six feet long by twelve inches wide, having
a fall of one inch to the foot, and paved with either flat stones or
plaited vines. Into the head of this box was then thrown the wash dirt,
from which the action of the water washed away the stones, sand, etc.,
leaving the gold precipitated at the bottom. The larger the flow of
water, the more dirt could be put through, and the more dirt the more
gold.
The title to a claim consisted of a document called a “Miner’s Right,”
which permitted the holder to peg out and keep the above area, or as
many more of similar dimensions as he chose to occupy or man. A miner’s
right cost ten shillings per annum and _ipso facto_ constituted the
holder a miner--sex, infancy, or nationality notwithstanding, the only
ineligibles being Chinese. “Manning ground” consisted of placing a
person holding a miner’s right in occupation thereof, the wages that
person received being immaterial. Thus a man employing ten or a dozen
Papuans, at wages ranging from five to ten shillings a month, could,
by merely paying ten shillings per annum per head for miner’s rights,
monopolize ten or a dozen claims. The wages of the European miner
ranged from twenty shillings a day and upwards, this, of course, being
the man contemplated by the Queensland Mining Act, and adopted by New
Guinea, as the person likely to man and work ground held by the miner
holding ground in excess of that to which his own “right” entitled him.
In theory, it is of course manifestly unfair, that the native of a
country should be classed as an alien, and debarred from any privilege
conferred by law upon Europeans; but in practice, the granting of
miner’s rights to them merely means that the European able to employ
a number of natives can monopolize claims, to the exclusion of other
Europeans. The native gets no more wages for his privilege of holding
ground, and were the privilege withdrawn would still obtain exactly
the employment he gets now, as his labour in working the claims is
necessary and profitable to his employer, and the supply of native
labour for the miner is never equal to the demand.
An interesting feature in connection with gold-mining on Woodlark
Island was that frequently the gold-bearing gravel ran under old coral
reefs, thus showing plainly that the whole gold-field had once been
submerged under the sea. A warm spring running into one of the streams
was, however, the only indication of past volcanic action. In the
pearling ground off the island of Sudest, there occurs again under the
sea, at a depth of fifteen fathoms, a big quartz reef running through
the live coral and sand bottom--whether gold-bearing or not I cannot
say--and dipping underground as it nears the shore.
Some time after my arrival at Woodlark the schooner _Ivanhoe_ came in
bringing provisions, tools, etc., for the gold-diggers, together with
a number of fresh arrivals, among whom was a Russian Finn, the meanest
and, in his personal habits, the dirtiest beast I have ever met. This
fellow proved most successful in his mining; but eventually, while
prospecting near his claim, lost himself in the forest. Upon his being
missed, a search party was organized by the diggers to look for him,
but after some weeks the quest was abandoned as hopeless and the man
given up for lost; a considerable amount was, however, subscribed and
offered by the diggers as a reward to any one finding or bringing him
in. The Finn, in the long run, was discovered in a starving condition
by some natives who, after feeding him and nursing him back to life,
brought him to the mining camp, where he learnt of the reward offered
for his recovery. He then had the ineffable impudence to object to its
being paid over to the natives, on the ground that it was subscribed
for his benefit, and that therefore he should receive it, magnanimously
saying, however, that the natives should be given a few pounds of
tobacco. Needless to remark, his views were disregarded, and the
natives received the full amount; the man, however, as he was yet in
a weak state of health and professed to have lost all his gold, was
given sufficient to pay his passage to Samarai and maintain himself for
a month from a fresh “hat” collection. At Samarai he resided for some
time cadging, loafing, and pleading poverty, until one day the repose
of the inhabitants was disturbed by wails of bitter grief proceeding
from the interior of a small building, which was built over a
bottomless hole descending through the coral rock, and was used by the
islanders as a receptacle for refuse. Inquiry disclosed the fact that,
during all the time he was lost and later, the Finn had worn a belt
next his skin containing over two hundred ounces of gold, which he had
kept carefully concealed. Having cadged a little more gold, he had gone
to the small building, as being the most secluded place, to add it to
his store when, being suddenly startled, he had inadvertently knocked
the belt into the hole, where it lies to this day.
This was an instance of a man losing his gold, and well he deserved it;
but I knew of another instance in which a large amount of gold was lost
and recovered in a manner so miraculous, that but for the fact that
many men are yet living in New Guinea, fully acquainted with all the
circumstances, I should hesitate to tell the story.
A party of successful miners was returning to Samarai in a small cutter
chartered for the occasion, the gold belonging to the individual men
in their separate parcels or “shammys” as they are called--the name
is derived from a corruption of chamois, the skin of which animal is
fondly supposed by diggers to furnish the only material for bullion
bags--being sown up together in a large hoop of canvas, and placed on
the hatch in open view of all hands. The weather was fine and clear,
no danger being anticipated, when as the vessel entered China Straits
she was struck by a sudden squall, and heeling over shot the diggers’
shammys into the scuppers, through one of which they disappeared. So
soon as the startled skipper could collect his wits and get his vessel
in hand, he took soundings and bearings, and running hastily into
Samarai, collected such pearlers as were there working, and offered
half the gold to any of them recovering it. Several pearlers at once
sailed for the spot, accompanied by the cutter of the bereaved diggers,
which dropped her anchor at the scene of the accident and proceeded to
watch operations. Diver after diver descended and toiled, diver after
diver ascended and reported a soft mud bottom and a hopeless quest;
pearler after pearler lifted his anchor and went back to Samarai, until
at last the cutter hoisted her anchor also, preparatory to taking the
diggers back to the gold-fields. A disconsolate lot of men watched that
anchor coming up, but I leave to the imagination the change in their
expressions when, clinging in the mud to the fluke of the anchor, they
saw their canvas belt of gold.
After the departure of Sylvester I went into partnership with one Karl
Wilsen, a Swede; he furnishing towards the assets of the partnership
a poor claim and local mining experience, I, a well-filled chest of
drugs and some knowledge of medicine. A couple of weeks after our
partnership had been arranged, Lobb, the original prospector of the
island, appeared at our claim with the news of a new gold find, at
which he advised us to peg out a claim. At the same time he told me
he was sailing for Samarai in a lugger owned by his partner Ede, in
order to buy fresh stores, and asked me for company’s sake to go with
him, holding out, as an inducement, that by doing so I could obtain
some natives to assist in the heavy manual labour of the claim. Wilsen
hastily left for the new find to peg out a joint claim for the pair of
us, and I departed with Lobb for Samarai.
Lobb’s vessel, on which I now found myself, was an old P. and O.
lifeboat, built up until of about seven tons burthen, lug-rigged on two
masts, and carrying a crew of six Teste Island (“Wari”) boys. Lobb, I
soon found to be absolutely ignorant of the most elementary knowledge
of either seamanship or navigation; the seamanship necessary for our
safe journey being furnished by the Wari boys, who had for generations
been the makers and sailors of the large Wari sailing canoes trading
between the islands. This kind of navigation consisted of sailing from
island to island, being entirely dependent on the local knowledge of
individual members of the crew to identify each island when sighted.
Shortly after leaving Woodlark we fell into a dead calm which lasted
until nightfall--after which Lobb improved the occasion by getting
drunk--then came on heavy variable rain squalls, during which the
native crew appealed to me as to how they were to steer; being unable
to see, they did not know where they were going, and Lobb was not by
any means in a state to direct them. Fortunately I had noticed the
compass bearing when we had left the passage from Woodlark and headed
for Iwa, this being the line laid down by the crew in daylight; upon
my asking them whether we should be safe if we followed that, and their
replying “we should be,” I pasted a slip of white paper on the compass
card and told them to keep it in a line with the jib-boom. When dawn
broke, we had Iwa in front of us a few miles ahead, and running slowly
up to it, hove-to in deep water, there being no anchorage off its
shores.
Iwa is a somewhat remarkable island, and inhabited by a somewhat
remarkable people. Rising sheer from the sea with precipitous faces,
the only means of access to the summit is by the inhabitants’ ladders,
made of vines and poles lashed together. The summit consists of
shelving tablelands and terraces, all under a system of intense
cultivation; yams, taro, the root of a sort of Arum, sweet potatoes,
paw paws, pumpkins, etc., being grown in enormous quantities. The
island of Iwa is quite impregnable so far as any attack by an enemy
unarmed with cannon is concerned, and the natives have succeeded well
as pirates in years gone by. From the top of Iwa, a clear view of many
miles of surrounding sea could be had, and the husbandman, toiling
in his garden, usually owned a share in a large paddle canoe, one of
many hauled up in the crevices and rocks at the foot of the precipices
of his island home. Sooner or later he would sight a sailing canoe,
belonging to one of the other islands, becalmed or brought by the drift
of currents to within sight of Iwa. At once, in response to his yell, a
dozen paddle canoes, crowded with men, would take the water, and unless
a breeze in the meantime sprang up, the traders usually fell easy
victims. Reprisals there could be none, for no war party dispatched by
one of the outraged tribes had a hope of scaling the cliffs of Iwa. The
people there possessed an unusual skill in wood carving, their paddles,
shaped like a water-lily leaf, being frequently marvels of workmanship.
Lobb remained hove-to for a couple of days at Iwa, purchasing copra
(dried cocoanut kernel), used for making oilcake for cattle and the
better quality of soap, together with the before-mentioned beautiful
carved paddles of the people. Sometimes the lugger lay within a couple
of hundred yards of the shore, sometimes she drifted out a couple of
miles, whereupon half a dozen canoes, manned by a dozen sturdy natives,
would drag us back to within the shorter distance. On the second day of
our stay I witnessed a particularly callous and brutal murder. A woman
swam out and sold a paddle to Lobb, for which she received payment in
tobacco. Swimming ashore she met a man, apparently her husband, to whom
she handed the tobacco. He, seeming not to be at all pleased with the
price, struck the woman, and she fled into the sea, where he pursued
and clubbed her, the body of the murdered woman drifting out and past
our vessel. Lobb, to my amazement, took absolutely no notice of this
little incident, and upon my drawing his attention to it and suggesting
we should seize the murderer and take him to Samarai for trial, merely
remarked, that I should do better to mind my own business.
Upon leaving the island, four days’ sail put us into Samarai, where,
amongst other things in the course of casual conversation, I told
Moreton of the murder I had seen at Iwa. Moreton questioned Lobb,
who professed to know nothing about it. Lobb then tackled me, asking
whether I was desirous of hanging about Samarai for three or four
months, at my own expense, waiting for a sitting of the Central
Court--the only court in New Guinea for capital offences--and upon my
replying, that in that case I should starve as I had little money and
there was no opportunity in Samarai of making any, Lobb said, “Exactly;
well you had better forget all about that murder at Iwa, or you will be
kept here.” I then went again to Moreton, who asked me whether I could
swear to the man who did the murder, and I replied that I could not, as
he was some hundred yards distant from me at the time and one native
looked very like another. Moreton remarked, “I think Lobb’s advice to
you is rather good, better follow it.”
Lobb remained about a week in Samarai recruiting a number of “boys”
for work in his claim, and among them a couple, Sione and Gisavia, for
me. We then sailed again for Woodlark. Upon our arrival back at the
gold-field, I heard that the claim pegged out by Wilsen for the pair
of us was a very rich one, but that he had taken Bill the Boozer into
partnership instead of me. This story I found to be true; Wilsen had
been tempted by a solid bribe when he found how good the ground was,
and had drawn the pegs in my portion, which were at once replaced by
Bill the Boozer, Wilsen declaring that I had gone for good. Wilsen
and I then had a fight, in which I succeeded in giving him the father
of a licking; this being followed by a law suit which I lost, mainly
owing to the magnificent powers of lying displayed by Wilsen and the
Boozer. I only met Wilsen twice after this, once, when he was witness
in a court in which I was presiding as magistrate, and where he was so
glib and fluent that I gave judgment for the opposing side, feeling
quite convinced that any people Wilsen was connected with must be in
the wrong; and again, when I held an inquest on his corpse, his death
having been caused by his getting his life line and air pipe entangled
while diving for pearl shell, and being paralysed by the long-sustained
pressure. These events, however, were to occur at a later time.
In the meantime I had no claim, and it behoved me to find one;
whereupon, accompanied by Sione and Gisavia, I wandered off into the
jungle of Woodlark in search of a gold-bearing gully. Creek after
creek and gully after gully we sunk holes in and tried, sometimes
getting for our pains a few pennyweights of gold, but more often
nothing. For food we depended on a small mat of rice of about fifty
pounds weight carried by one boy, and as many sweet potatoes, yams or
taro we could pick up from wandering natives. The other boy carried
a pick and shovel, tin dish, crowbar, axe and knife, and three plain
deal boards with a few nails, comprising our simple mining equipment,
together with a sheet of calico, used as a “fly” or tent, to keep the
rain from us at night. My pack consisted of a spare shirt, trousers and
boots, rifle, revolver, ammunition, two billy cans for making tea and
boiling rice, compass and matches, and last but not least a small roll
case of the excellent tabloid drugs of Messrs. Burroughs and Wellcome.
In our wanderings we struck a valley--now known as Bushai--where at
intervals of three hundred yards we put down pot holes without a
“colour” to the dish. (A colour is a speck of gold, however minute.)
This was an instance of bad luck sometimes dogging a prospector, for,
some months later, a man named Mackenzie found the valley, and in the
first hole he sunk found rich gold, while the claims pegged out on each
side of his holding proved very payable “shows.” I came there again
when it was a proved field and, recognizing the valley, asked Mackenzie
whether on his first arrival he had noticed any pot holes. “Yes,” he
said, “three of them. I don’t know who made them, but they were the
only spots in the valley where I could not find a payable prospect.”
There was then no ground left for me, so I went away, cursing the fates
that had made me select the only barren parts of a rich valley in which
to sink my holes.
This incident, however, belongs to a later day, and having “duffered”
the valley as I thought, my boys and I prowled on through the forest
over the place where the Kulamadau mine now stands, at which point we
finished our “tucker” and obtained a few ounces of gold, enough to buy
supplies for a few more weeks, when we should get to some place where
such could be obtained. Living mainly on roots and a few birds, we
fell into a mangrove swamp, where the three of us obtained such a crop
of mangrove ulcers that we were hardly able to walk, and were obliged
to strike straight for the sea. My boys of course wore no boots, and
their swollen legs, painful as they might be, were not so inconvenient
to them as mine were to me; for in my case I did not dare to take off
my boots, for fear of not being able to get my enlarged feet into them
again.
After a day with nothing to eat, we found the sea and an alligator.
The alligator I shot, and we were eating him when we saw the sails of
a schooner coming round a point close in shore. By dint of firing my
revolver, and my boys howling vigorously, we attracted the attention
of those on board; and a boat was lowered and sent to us, in which we
went off to her, and then I discovered it was German Harry’s craft, the
_Galatea_. German Harry had a cargo of stores for Woodlark, and was
accompanied by a European wife--not his own, but some one else’s with
whom he had bolted. He received me with sympathy and hospitality, and,
telling his cook to boil quantities of hot water for the treatment of
my own and my boys’ mangrove ulcers, set to work looking for bandages
and soothing unguents, leaving me to be entertained by the other man’s
wife.
A fortnight I put in with German Harry, acting for him as a sort of
supercargo in tallying the sale of his cargo, listening to his tales
of experiences in the islands, picking up the rudiments of navigation
and the whole art of diving for pearls and mother of pearl by aid of
the apparatus manufactured by either Siebe Gorman or Heinke, the only
two firms of submarine engineers considered by the pearl fishers as at
all worthy of patronage. Harry had on board the complete plants, from
air pumps to dresses, of the rival manufacturers; and after exhaustive
trials I came to the same conclusion as he, that both were equally
excellent in still waters, and both beastly dangerous in currents or
rough seas.
At the end of the two weeks the _Galatea_ sailed for other parts, and
I, refusing Harry’s invitation to accompany him again, plunged once
more into the forest of Woodlark in search of gold and fortune. On this
trip my sole discovery was some aged lime trees and old hard wood piles
of European houses, which later inquiry among the natives showed me
were the remains of an old French Jesuit Mission long since come and
gone; these trees and piles and a few French words current among the
natives, such as “couteaux,” being all that was left of their work.
Wandering back from the second and even more disastrous trip than the
first (for in addition to an entire lack of gold and a second crop
of ulcers, my boys and myself had now added intermittent and severe
malaria to our stock-in-trade), I dropped into a gully in which a white
miner was working by his lonesome self. Jim Brady was his name, and
after feeding us and listening to our tales of adventure, or rather
misadventure, he spake thus: “I have a damned poor show here, just
about pays tucker, but if you like to chip in with your boys we will
do a little better, and when we have fattened up a bit, one can keep
the show going while t’other looks for something better.” Eagerly I
accepted this offer, my boys and myself being only too thankful to find
somewhere to rest out of the rain, with a fair prospect of three square
meals a day. Brady and I then worked together for some months with
varying fortune; the sole dissension arising between us being due to my
stealing a piece of calico, in which he used to boil duff, with which
to patch my only remaining pair of trousers.
Then one afternoon, whilst I and the two boys were digging out wash
dirt and feeding the “sluice box,” he suddenly squealed, “What in the
devil’s name are you sending me now? It’s a porphery leader and giving
a weight to the dish,” _i.e._ a pennyweight of gold, worth about three
shillings and fourpence. Brady then came and looked at the place where
I was digging, and remarked, “Cover it up with mullock at once, it’s
a good thing and we don’t want a crowd here.” I remonstrated, saying
that we wanted all the gold we could get; but Brady said, “Yes, and
we want all the ground we can get and enough money to clear from this
blasted country; that leader wants capital, for which we shall have to
arrange.” In obedience to Brady’s instructions I covered up the leader,
and had hardly finished doing so, when an excited digger dropped into
our claim exclaiming, “Have you heard the news? Mackenzie has struck a
new gully with an ounce to the dish.” Brady and I at once bolted for
a newly opened store to arrange a credit for tucker, to enable him to
proceed to the new find. In the meanwhile, I was to remain and work our
present claim to cover expenses. The store-keeper, one Thompson, was
obdurate, refusing to give us any credit or even to sell us sufficient
supplies for gold, to enable Brady to go to the new rush, he wishing to
assist his own friends, or rather those men who could be depended on to
spend all their earnings in grog at his store.
Brady and I were sitting most disconsolately outside the store when
a cutter, the _White Squall_, came in loaded with diggers, but no
supplies, when I suddenly overheard a remark of Thompson’s: “By God,
I must buy or charter that cutter for Samarai for stores.” The cutter
brought a mail, and amongst my letters I found a notice from Burns,
Philp and Co., that £100 had been placed to my credit at Samarai;
whereupon Thompson’s remark recurred to my memory. “Jim,” I said
to Brady, “how much gold have we?” “Ten ounces,” he said. “Hand it
over,” said I, “I have a ploy.” Brady handed it over, and I sought
the owner of the cutter, saying I wanted to buy her. He said he was
asking Thompson £100 for her, but Thompson was a ... Jew and only
offered £60. I replied, “Well, here are ten ounces on deposit, and
an order on Burns, Philp and Co., of Samarai, for the rest, and this
letter of theirs will show it is all right.” In five minutes the deal
was completed; and the _White Squall_ papers being handed over to
me, I returned to Brady. “Jim,” I said, “you need a sea trip and so
do I; also we will set up as yacht owners and store-keepers. Let’s
go up to Thompson and tell him the good news.” We found him and
told him we had bought the _White Squall_, and intended to sail her
to Samarai ourselves. I also pointed out that there was an absolute
dearth of supplies at Woodlark, and we expected to make a good thing
by store-keeping. Thompson’s language, as Bret Harte has it, was for a
time “painful and free”; then he rushed off to the former owners of the
cutter, to try and persuade them to cancel the deal as we were “dead
broke,” and could not pay for the vessel. Unfortunately, however, for
him the vendors chose to consider us as honest men, this apart from
having completed the deal, and told Thompson to go to a warmer region.
He then came again to me with an _ad misericordiam_ appeal. “Look here,
if I don’t get this boat I am a ruined man; how much do you want? I
never thought that you two dead beats could buy a vessel, or I would
have bid higher.” I gently pointed out that all Brady and I had wanted
was fair treatment from him, which we had not got; also that we had no
wish to become store-keepers or traders, but as he had forced us into
the position, he could either buy us out or count on our opposition in
his own business. I then remarked that I would leave the negotiations
to Brady.
Brady’s terms were short and sweet: £100 for the vessel, £100 on top
of that for ourselves, together with Thompson’s original offer of £60.
Thompson squealed loudly, but as we were ready to go to sea, accepted
the offer and took over the _White Squall_. In passing I might now
remark that later knowledge showed me the _White Squall_ was not worth
£5; she was thoroughly rotten, the only good things about her being her
pumps. She had sneaked out of a Queensland port without the cognizance
of the authorities; but of these facts at the time I was ignorant; and
Brady and I were much surprised to hear later that, after three or four
highly profitable trips for Thompson, she had sunk. Her sinking was
caused by an irate master leaping suddenly down into the forecastle to
deal with a recalcitrant member of the crew, and in his energy sending
his legs through her rotten planking.
After the completion of the _White Squall_ deal, Brady went off to the
new rush, where he pegged out a good claim, I remaining to shepherd
our old one. A few days after his departure I received a note from
him saying I had better abandon the claim I was holding, as our lode
was safely buried, and come to the new rush. On my way thither I
dropped into a gully and began prospecting it, just as another white
man, accompanied as I was by two boys, started the same game. We both
struck highly payable gold at about the same time, and each claimed the
gully by right of discovery. For two or three minutes we--each with
drawn revolvers, and each backed by our boys armed respectively with
a rifle and fowling piece--argued the question; and in the end, as an
alternative to murdering one another, decided to go into partnership
and work it jointly, each to divide our share with our former mates.
My new partner was named John Graham; he had previously been an
assistant Resident Magistrate in the service of the British New Guinea
Government, and later the owner of some pearl-fishing vessels. We
worked together very amicably for some months, when, receiving a good
offer for our claim, we sold out and separated, he to buy the wreck of
a vessel with the intention of refitting it and resuming trading. After
about a week’s work again with Brady, some severe attacks of malaria
gave me a distinct hint to go to sea for a short time, and at my
suggestion we dissolved partnership, Brady remaining in the claim, and
I, with my two boys, going to Suloga Bay with the intention of there
finding a vessel bound for Samarai.