On the first of July, 1903, the _Merrie England_ arrived at Cape
Nelson, bringing the Administrator, Mr. Justice Robinson. His
Excellency informed me that he intended to visit the Yodda Gold-field
at once, and to proceed with all possible speed towards the
construction of a road to that point, also that he wished to know
before the work was begun whether there was any possible alternative
route to that already explored, and recommended by Mr. Surveyor Tooth
and myself from Oro Bay. I replied that it was possible that a route
existed leading from Porloch Bay, behind the Hydrographer’s Range to
Papaki (or Papangi, as my men called it). Sir William MacGregor’s map
showed the Yodda River as heading there; this, however, I knew from my
own explorations to be incorrect; but Sir William must have some reason
for thinking that a long valley ran between the Hydrographer’s and the
Main Ranges, and this was also my own belief. Walker, R.M., and De
Molynes, A.R.M., had sent in a report and map of their explorations in
that part of the country, also showing a valley, but they said it was
the valley of the south branch of the Kumusi. “I have that report and
map,” said his Excellency. “Well, both are pure fiction,” I replied.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked. “One moment, sir, and you will
know,” I answered, and sent an orderly for Private Arita, and upon his
appearance questioned him as follows.
“You were with Mr. Walker and Mr. De Molynes when they went up the
Kumusi to Papangi?” “Yes, sir.” “How far did they go beyond Papangi?”
“Two hours’ journey, to where the Kumusi emerges from the hills;
then we came back,” was the reply. “Did Mr. Walker ever visit that
part of the country again?” I asked. “No, sir.” “There you are, your
Excellency,” I said, “Walker drew a map and furnished a report upon a
country scores of miles beyond the furthest point he reached. The whole
thing is simply guess-work.” “Why do you think Sir William MacGregor
placed a long valley there?” asked the Governor. “He probably saw a
valley, or what looked like a valley, from the summit of the Main Range
on his Victoria Expedition, and from a height of twelve or thirteen
thousand feet, hills of two or three thousand might look like a flat.
Anyhow he was wrong in his assumption that the Yodda River headed
there; and in any case he never made any definite statement to that
effect, he simply noted it as a possibility. The fact now remains that
we know absolutely nothing of the country between the Hydrographer’s
Range and the Main Range; Sir William MacGregor’s theory has been
proved wrong by later explorations of the Yodda, while Walker’s map and
report are not to be seriously considered.”
“What do you think about it?” asked Robinson. “I cannot tell,” I
answered. “It is possible or probable that there is a long fertile
valley drained either by the Barigi River into Porloch Bay, or by an
affluent of the Kumusi, or by both; or the country may be auriferous;
or again it may be a succession of hills and ranges of a few thousand
feet; it is impossible to know without traversing it. If there is a
long valley there it would be the best route to the Yodda.” “Well, I
am going to find out,” said Robinson, “and you are coming with me; the
details of the equipment and personnel of the expedition are now in
your hands. When can we start?” “To-morrow, sir,” I answered, as I went
off to warn my men and send for carriers, wondering why everything hot
and unwholesome always fell to my lot. I was not at all enamoured of
the prospect, for neither Robinson, Bruce, nor Manning was acclimatized
to the country or knew anything about the work, and I saw that if
anything went wrong--as well it might--I should be the scapegoat.
The following day I left with the Governor for Porloch Bay, taking with
me ten of my constabulary, a dozen armed village constables, and about
130 Kaili Kaili as carriers; to which were added the Governor’s boat’s
crew of eight constabulary and the Commandant’s travelling patrol of
twenty. At Porloch Bay my old enemy but now dear friend, Oiogoba Sara,
appeared and gave us much assistance. He had all his fighting men
under arms to repel a threatened attack from a raiding hill tribe, and
wanted us to stop and help him; but as I very soon found out that he
was confident of beating off his enemies, the Governor decided to go on
with our more important work, especially as I told him that the mere
passage of our force through Oiogoba’s country would discourage the
raiders, as indeed old Oiogoba himself thought.
Here, I went through the stores and equipment provided by Manning for
the Governor’s use, and remorselessly cast out such things as lager
beer, potatoes, tinned fruit, etc. These things, I told Manning, were
about as useful to an expedition of this sort as a pair of bathing
drawers to a conger eel. “But his Excellency may wish to invite some
one to lunch or dinner at the Yodda,” squealed Manning. “Then his
Excellency’s guests can share his Excellency’s fare of bully beef,
biscuits, rice, and yams.” “Mr. Monckton, sir,” appealed Manning, “is
leaving behind a great deal of your private stores.” “Exactly what
I expected he would do, Manning. I am glad my impression of him is
confirmed. Perhaps you are fortunate that he has not left you behind as
well!” replied Robinson, who was a man all through.
Our first camp was at old Oiogoba’s village of Neimbadi on the Barigi
River, which the old boy, by dint of building new stockades and tree
houses, had now turned into a strong position. At dawn on the following
morning we struck camp, and, guided by Oiogoba and his escort of
spearmen, struck inland to where the Barigi River forks, and thence
followed the northern branch, the Tamberere, along its tortuous and
rocky course until noon, being compelled to cross and recross the
beastly stream no less than five times. In the afternoon, after
ascending a rocky gorge, we emerged on to rolling grass hills, and
eventually camped for the night at an altitude of about 1000 feet. From
here bearings on Mounts MacGregor and Lamington gave me my position;
and I told his Excellency that a line as near west-north-west as
possible was our route, and one that would determine whether a valley
suitable for a road existed behind Mount Lamington or not. Personally,
however, I was of the opinion that from the look of the land ahead some
rough country lay between the supposititious valley and us.
The country we were camped in was a sort of “no man’s land” or border
land lying between the Baruga tribe and their mountain enemies, amongst
whom could be numbered the Aga, who inhabited the inland slopes of the
Hydrographer Range, and were now right ahead of us. This tribe I had
heard was in the habit of poisoning its spears; but, like almost every
other story to that effect in New Guinea, this proved untrue. Oiogoba
and his escort left us here; he returning to take charge of the defence
of his village against the expected raid. I, however, kept his village
constable with me to act as an interpreter.
From this point our way now led over steep-sided hills of two to three
thousand feet in height, at the bottom of which there were deep rocky
gorges through which ran very rapid streams. From the top of one big
hill we espied in the distance high tree houses, belonging to an
outpost of a tribe named Gogori, so my village constable told me. The
country lying between us and the houses was frightfully precipitous
and rough, and the descent and ascent of the slopes made extremely
interesting by loose boulders accidentally dislodged by the men
above falling on those below. In most places it was only possible to
proceed in Indian file, which of course meant that when a boulder was
dislodged it practically enfiladed the long line.
Boulder dodging on a very steep slope is interesting because one never
knows where it is coming, and therefore has to wait to dodge until it
is almost into one, in order to prevent stepping into instead of out of
its track. Sometimes the loaded men in endeavouring to avoid one stone
would start others, whereupon all of us at the lower end had a truly
lively time; though I never knew a man actually struck. There is an art
in dodging a boulder on a hillside. One hears a sudden yell of warning
from the individual by whom it has been started on its career, then a
running fire of curses and laughter from the men; curses, as each man
watches the course of the boulder and waits to jump aside; laughter,
as--the feat accomplished--he watches the expressions and listens to
the language of those below awaiting their turn!
Our order of march was as follows. First went four constabulary scouts,
two Mambare and two Kaili Kaili, keeping from one to three hundred
yards ahead, and making the easiest line to be followed; then I came
with the interpreters and ten of the constabulary, followed by the
Governor, Manning, and his Excellency’s armed boat’s crew; behind them
again came a long line of carriers, studded at intervals with armed
village constables; while Bruce and his constabulary brought up the
rear.
The country now in front of us was very broken and precipitous, and
after descending one particularly steep slope of about a thousand
feet we found it terminated in a deep gorge, into which we descended
by means of vines, which we tied to trees at the top and slid down.
We followed the gorge for some four miles or so, wading sometimes up
to our waists in water, until we suddenly found ourselves in a sort
of huge cup or amphitheatre surrounded on all sides by precipices and
high hills. I asked the Baruga village constable if he had ever been
there before. He replied, “No,” though he had heard of the place, and
vowed if it had not been for the police and myself nothing would have
induced him to come, as it was haunted by devils! He had hardly spoken,
when crack! crack! crack! went the rifles of the scouts. “There! What
did I tell you?” said that v.c., turning pale under his dusky skin,
“the devils have found the scouts!” “Then I am sorry for the devils,”
I remarked; as, in response to a nod from me, half a dozen police tore
off to support the scouts.
“The devils” turned out to be a small party of mountaineers, who had
discovered and suddenly attacked my scouts. No damage was done by
them, other than a spear hole through Private Mukawa’s haversack.
Several of the mountaineers were wounded and two captured; they had
been demoralized and terrified by the--to them--appalling noise and
effect of the rifle fire. One of the captured men was a leper. We
could not make them understand a word we said; their language was quite
strange to the Baruga village constable; but by signs we endeavoured to
explain to them that we were not enemies, and we gave them a few small
presents, and sent them off to rejoin their friends.
Leaving the amphitheatre, we followed a steep gorge until our way was
barred by a waterfall 150 feet in height, which brought us to a full
stop. It was not a particularly enviable situation in which we found
ourselves, for in the event of natives on the top discovering us, they
would be quite likely to begin dropping stones, spears, tree trunks,
etc., on our heads, without our being able to retaliate. Until one has
taught him differently, the inland Papuan holds the simple creed that
every stranger is an enemy to be killed at sight.
At last Sergeant Barigi discovered a faint track leading up a narrow
side gorge; so, taking half a dozen police with me, I followed it for
about a mile, the bottom gradually rising the whole time, until it
also terminated in a waterfall about twenty feet in height. Resting
against the side of the waterfall was a smooth pole, up which the local
natives apparently climbed. After many efforts Corporal Bia and four
police succeeded in climbing up it, and stationed themselves as a guard
at the top, while I sent word to the Governor to come on. When more
police arrived, they made a ladder of poles and vines, and by its help
we emerged from the “abode of devils” on to a steep hillside, up which
we climbed with considerable difficulty in the wake of the scouts, who
were now reinforced by Corporal Bia and his four men.
At the top of the hill there was a small stockaded village vacated
by its inhabitants, into which Bia and his scouts carefully crawled.
Whizz! suddenly came a spear from the air, passing between the crawling
Bia’s arm and body, and pinning him to the ground by his jumper. He
looked up and spotted a bushman on a platform at the top of an enormous
tree. Whizz! Whizz! came a couple more spears, which he dodged. The
bushman leant over for a more deliberate shot at him. “You have had
three shots at me,” said Bia; “now here is something for yourself!”
And he potted that bushman like a rook. There was a large garden near
the village full of yams, to which the carriers and police helped
themselves, leaving, however, salt and tobacco in payment.
From here we followed native tracks from one hilltop to another; each
hilltop crowned with a small stockaded village the inhabitants of which
always fled at the hail of our scouts, and reoccupied the village after
we had passed through; at each village we left small presents as a
sign that we were not hostile marauders.
After leaving the village we got into a waterless rocky volcanic
country, consisting of a sort of scoria, and soon were all suffering
from the pangs of thirst. From early morning until late in the forenoon
of the following day we went without water, the scouts ranging for
miles on a fruitless quest, till the laden carriers showed signs of
severe distress. At last the scouts discovered a garden with a man at
work in it, and captured him. We gave the man a few beads and a zinc
mirror, and he soon got over his fright; he spoke a peculiarly musical
language, but none of my men could make head or tail of it. We made him
understand by signs that we wanted water, and that we would give him
a long-knife and a tomahawk as a reward if he guided us to it; he, in
his turn, made signs that he would do so, and went off with Sergeant
Kimai and a few police. After a couple of hours the sergeant came back,
and reported that the man had led him north, south, east, and west,
and had then tried to bolt. “Take him out of the Governor’s hearing,
and give him a taste of your belt,” I told Kimai. “I have already done
that,” replied that worthy sergeant; “I had to do it carefully for fear
of leaving marks, but he is a very pig for obstinacy.” “There must be
water somewhere near his garden,” I said. “Take him to a sunny spot
and fill his mouth with salt; then run him up and down, and when he
blows sprinkle his nose with dry wood ashes!” In about an hour’s time
the man was brought back, and I could plainly see that he had a thirst
sufficient to make a drunkard of an Archbishop! He eagerly made signs
of drinking, and pointed in the direction we wished to go. In half an
hour he had taken us to a pool of indifferent water, which we drank up;
and in another twenty minutes to a fine stream.
At about four o’clock on the afternoon of this day we came upon a
group of villages surrounded by gardens. The scouts waved calico and
green boughs, and yelled “Ovakaiva” (peace); the inhabitants, however,
would have nothing to do with us in a friendly way. One enterprising
individual stalked Sergeant Barigi, and knocked him over with a
stone-headed club; before he had time to finish him, however, Private
Tamanabai noticed what was going on and shot his assailant.
Just ahead of us there was a stockaded village, situated on a spur
in a very strong position, and right across the track that we should
be obliged to follow. Fortunately most of the men belonging to it
were away, and I was able to take the village without bloodshed, by
threatening a flank attack, and then suddenly rushing my men into it.
Its inhabitants retreated to another village, from whence they hurled
abuse and defiance at us. Private Maione was able to talk to these
people, as they spoke a language resembling that of the Sangara tribe,
which he knew. They demanded what we meant by “polluting their country
and village by our obscene presence!” Maione replied that we were but
travellers passing through their country, and that we did not want
to fight, but would pay well for food, guides, and assistance. They
replied that they would “provide us with all the fighting we wanted!”
The Governor now told me that he did not wish any fighting to take
place, nor any natives to be shot, and personally gave an order to this
effect to the police. I told his Excellency that the last thing either
myself or my police wanted was to fight, but that I certainly had no
intention of allowing either my men or my Kaili Kaili carriers to be
killed by bushmen. Whereupon his Excellency said, that as I could not
see eye to eye with him in the matter, he would release me from the
command and place Bruce in charge: which he did.
The immediate result of Bruce’s disposition of our force was that
Maione, my personal orderly, and our only interpreter, was badly
speared, and a strong attack was developed against us. We had a very
bad time during the night staving off attack after attack. Then Bruce
came to Robinson, and said, “I don’t understand this sort of fighting,
neither do my men, and their nerves are going. Monckton’s men do; but
they are all sulking badly, and the carriers are following suit.”
Bruce also asked me to look at some of his own and the Governor’s men
who appeared to be sickening for something or other; which I did; and
also questioned them. They told me that a strange sickness was sweeping
through the native villages at Port Moresby just about the time they
left. “Measles! as I am a living sinner!” I exclaimed, and went off
to the Governor. “Some epidemic has broken out amongst the men, sir;
and they say it is similar to a new illness in Port Moresby. I am
afraid it is measles,” I told him. “The Chief Medical Officer told me
that there was a slight outbreak of German measles, but said that he
did not consider that it was dangerous,” replied his Excellency. “It
might not be dangerous to well-housed European children or natives at
Port Moresby; but with hard work and the wet of the mountains, not
to speak of having to wade through streams, these men of mine will
die like flies. Besides, each man that sickens overloads the others,
and we already have one dangerously wounded man to carry, with a
probability of more.” “What do you advise?” asked the Governor. “Make
for the coast, where shelter can be obtained for the men, as fast as
we possibly can,” was my answer. “How?” he asked. “A bee line over
the Hydrographers,” I replied. “That is, abandon the work we are on
and confess failure! That will never do: my very first work! Did Sir
William MacGregor ever do such a thing?” he asked. “I have never heard
of his doing so,” I replied. “Then why do you advise me to take such
a course?” he demanded. “For the sake of the lives of my men, and for
your Excellency’s own sake. If we continue to lose a large number of
men, the press and public will kick up a fuss.” The Governor then
called Bruce into consultation; after which he called for me again.
“This fiasco is most distressing to me,” he said. “But Mr. Bruce agrees
with you that the risk in going on is too great; in fact, he goes
further, and says that we should not reach Papangi with sick men.”
“I do not think that the risk is too great, and I would undertake to
reach Papangi with little or no loss, if I were allowed to do it in
my own way; but I could not do it in the manner we are attempting it,
and therefore recommend making for the coast.” “How would you do it?”
“Fling my scouts ahead for miles to examine the country and report to
me, who would be with an advance party; and then keep bringing up the
main body on the best route by forced marches. The sick men would then
have only the easiest country to cross, and would know that they were
going to camp every night in a carefully chosen site with good wood and
water. But if they are going to blunder over the country, sometimes
without fire, at others without water, and subject to perpetual alarms
from hostile natives, they can never do it.” “Very good, then; you are
to take full command once more, and get us to Papangi,” ordered the
Governor. “I understand, then, sir, that my men are not in the future
to wait until they are speared before defending themselves?” “Give the
orders you think best,” he replied.
That night no one got any sleep; natives beating drums, blowing
war-horns and yelling at intervals, the whole night through, and trying
hard to stalk the sentries; the latter, lying flat on their stomachs,
potted religiously at every moving object that came within their
vision. Just before dawn, the people--who, by the way, were called
Kaina--massed in the scrub for a rush; but the sentries had marked
the manœuvre and warned me. Whereupon I ordered a volley to be fired
into the spot; which, judging from the yelps, yells, and sound of men
running through bushes, apparently had a considerable effect. After
dawn they had all disappeared.
“What would they do to us, if they caught us?” asked the Governor,
who was looking very haggard from want of sleep, and from worrying
over the ultimate fate of the expedition. “At the best, kill and eat
us,” I answered, “perhaps torture us first. They are a bad lot in this
part. A short time ago some similar natives caught two miners, Campion
and King, on the Upper Kumusi, the part we are making for, and stuck
stakes through their stomachs and roasted the pair alive. When a native
woman interceded, they stunned her and chucked her on the fire also.
Ask Maione about them, if you are interested; he knows all about their
nice little ways.”
All that day natives hung round our line of march, but avoided a fight;
and the scouts discovered numerous spear pits, six and eight feet deep,
studded at the bottom with sharply pointed spears, pointed upwards and
covered with twigs, leaves, and earth--horrible traps for the unwary.
Other delicate attentions were small, exceedingly sharp spears, fixed
at an angle in grass or scrub to catch one about the knee or thigh. But
I will leave the tale of the rest of the expedition to Judge Robinson,
and give an extract from his Official Dispatch to the Governor-General
of Australia.
“On 10th June we left camp at 9 a.m. and found the track very
sticky and slippery. After walking about three miles Mr. Monckton
who was in front with half a dozen police surprised a native in a
garden. He nearly succeeded in spearing Tamanambai, who wounded
him in return. The surprised native was evidently a sorcerer, and
while we were examining his bag of tricks and charms, consisting
of pebbles, pieces of bone, stained pieces of wood, etc., we heard
the sound of war-shells and war-cries. Some of the carriers were
some distance behind and we had some difficulty in hurrying them
up, and an attempt was made to attack them in our rear which was
repelled. This was followed by a frontal attack in which four of
the hillmen were killed. We then followed circuitous native tracks
affording good cover in the grass for the enemy’s spearmen, and
two or three met their fate in this way. We were evidently well
watched; and turning suddenly on to another track we reached
the foot of a steep and slippery hillock upon which was a large
village of about forty houses. We were evidently expected to come
by another track, and our arrival by the steep path was apparently
unexpected. Only two hillmen were killed in the encounter at this
village. Although they were in a position to have caused some
loss amongst our party as we came up the hill, none of the police
received any hurt, possibly owing to our having surprised the
village as already described. After we had left this village our
scouts were attacked several times. Two men were shot. One sprang
out upon the path ten feet from Arita, who, without having time to
unsling his rifle from his shoulder, shot his assailant dead before
the poised spear had time to leave his hand. The natives here were
of good stature and warlike. I saw no evidence of steel tools and
they are apparently not yet emerged from the stone age. They were
all armed with formidable spears, shields, and stone clubs. The
country is rather thickly populated, and the natives do not trouble
to build stockades to their villages. We found tobacco growing in
the gardens in great quantities and of the most excellent quality.
I see no reason why these hills should not in the future produce
all the tobacco required for Australian consumption. Tobacco is
apparently indigenous to New Guinea, and I have been informed that
some leaf which Sir William MacGregor sent to England was sold
for 18_s._ per lb. When burnt the tobacco in these hills emits an
excellent aroma; the flavour also is good, but of course what we
smoked was not properly dried and prepared. In almost every garden
were quantities of sugar-cane, paupau, pumpkins, sweet potatoes
and, of course, the inevitable taro and yams. There are also
quantities of an excellent nut, probably the _Terminalia Katappa_
(?) superior to a walnut in flavour. I looked for nutmegs but
did not find any, although the bark of a tree found has a taste
and scent resembling the mace of commerce. The country abounds
in a variety of fibrous plants which could probably be turned to
valuable account. We camped for the night on the site of a village
situated on a spur of a mountain 2329 feet in height, from which
we located the southern peak of Mount Lamington, 55° N.E. We also
saw a high peak 6280 feet high bearing 109° S.E., apparently behind
Oro Bay. This mountain peak is higher than Mount Lamington. It
has hitherto borne no name, and I have named it Mount Barton in
honour of the first Premier of the Australian Commonwealth. I have
since located the mountain from the sea, and although the clouds
considerably obscured the view, it is probably the most conspicuous
point in the Hydrographer’s Range.
“I was aroused before daybreak the next morning by the now familiar
war-cries of natives; and the sentries were speedily reinforced by
a line of police at each end of the spur upon which we were camped,
prepared to repel a rush. The hour just before dawn appears to
be a favourite time for an attack amongst Papuans, and we found
evidence afterwards that these natives had camped for a portion of
the night in some numbers in the scrub at the edge of the clearing,
and had denied themselves the comfort of a fire, so that their
presence might not be disclosed, making small shelters of branches
to protect them from the chill mountain air. They evidently
intended to take us by surprise, and to rush our camp, but finding
it so well guarded and no doubt feeling very cold, their spirits
failed them and they contented themselves with loud challenges,
threats, and blowing of war-shells, which were responded to, I have
no doubt, in equally uncomplimentary language by our police and
carriers. We could hear them moving in the undergrowth, but they
wisely refrained from emerging into the clearing. Mr. Bruce fired
at a dark form in the dim light, and after continuing their warlike
demonstrations for some little time longer, they retreated when the
first streaks of dawn began to appear.
“The panorama when the sun rose was one of great beauty. Looking
backward in the direction of our route, the valley at our feet
and the bases of the surrounding mountains were swathed in thick
white clouds, heavy with mist, like banks of snow; Mount Barton and
Mount Lamington showed clear out against the morning sky, and far
more distant rose the lofty heights of Mount MacGregor, soon to be
enveloped in the gradually rising clouds.
“We obtained no view of Mount Victoria, but Mr. Monckton recognized
the gap in the Owen Stanley Range, and Mount Nisbet in a S.W.
direction from it.
“I omitted to mention that one of the village constables captured
a woman of exceptionally dour and unprepossessing exterior on the
previous evening who was able to speak to Maione. She informed him
she knew the way to Papaki, and pointed in the direction which Mr.
Monckton had approximately estimated it to be, viz. W.N.W. from
the point. I decided to bring the woman with me some distance as a
guide, but we subsequently found that she did not appear able to
show us any native tracks, and we were obliged, as heretofore, to
rely on the compass, which had for some days shown a considerable
northerly deviation in the direction of Notu, possibly due to the
close proximity of the ironstone formation of Mount Lamington. I
subsequently left the woman at Bogi and instructed the Assistant
Resident Magistrate there to endeavour through her to get into
friendly relations with her people.
“Endeavouring unsuccessfully to find a spur running in the
direction in which we wished to go, we were obliged to continue our
mountain climbing, which seemed to become steeper and more arduous
as we proceeded. As we skirted a village a native called to us
from the distance, and although we did our utmost to induce him to
approach us, and made signs of friendship, we could not encourage
him to do so. At evening we camped at an altitude of 2639 feet.
Twenty-five cases of measles among the carriers.
“Next day, 12th of July, was repetition of the day before. The
route was even more steep and it was not possible to follow a N.W.
course. Moreover there was no indication of any alteration in the
configuration of the country. More carriers suffering from measles.
“13th July. After discussing the position it was decided to remain
in camp to-day and rest the carriers, Mr. Monckton to take eight
police and to investigate the country ahead. After breakfast,
accompanied by Mr. Bruce and Mr. Manning, I ascended to the top of
the hill upon which our camp was situated, and upon cutting some
timber obtained a view of the sea to the north, and of a hill in
the distance which one of the police said he recognized as the
Opi Hill. Upon our return to the camp we found that the bushmen,
who were apparently watching our movements and had evidently seen
Mr. Monckton’s departure and imagined that possibly most of the
rifles had gone with him, threatened an attack. They called out
from the thick jungle as before. We waited for some time, but could
not see any of our visitors, whom we judged to be a distance of a
hundred yards on the steep slope of the hill opposite our camp. We
fired a volley in that direction and a second one also, which had
the desired effect. A subsequent inspection did not disclose any
traces of our shots having taken effect, although bullet marks were
plainly seen all round where the natives’ footprints were.
“Mr. Monckton returned at 4 p.m. with the report that by making a
rather precipitous descent he had found a small creek which led
into much more even country by native tracks. He had seen signs of
natives everywhere, and a tree had been cut in one place only a
short time before he passed.
“The carriers had a bad night, thirty of them ill with measles,
added to which they felt the cold very much at night.
“Next day, 14th July, we made the descent mentioned by Mr. Monckton
to a height of 1856 feet, following the creek. At luncheon time we
threw out scouts, one of whom was attacked by a native who hurled a
spear at him, and was shot. Travelled in all nine miles and camped
in an old garden over-run with sweet potatoes. The native denizens,
anticipating our doing so, had sown the place with foot spears, and
one carrier was slightly wounded in the foot.
“Next morning going to the bank of the creek which flowed close to
the camp, I suddenly looked up and saw the head of a native peering
at me from the high bank opposite. Upon seeing that he was observed
he disappeared, but in a few moments thirty or forty of them
disclosed themselves. These we endeavoured to conciliate also but
ineffectually, and upon taking our departure fixed on a prominent
tree in the garden were left two steel adzes as payment for the
potatoes eaten by the party, surmounted by a green bough.
“Following the bed of the creek all day and thereby avoiding the
mountains drained by it, up to our waists in the cold stream, we
made fairly good progress. It rained in torrents in the afternoon
and we were all very cold and uncomfortable. At night (1539 feet)
the whole camp could be heard coughing; one or two cases of scurvy
appeared.
“16th and 17th July. We continued to make our way, often with
much difficulty, along the bed of the same creek which, increased
by several affluents, had become a mountain torrent. Its general
course was W. by N., and its many windings at the base of the
surrounding hills lengthened our journey. Occasionally we were able
to cut off a corner, and at other times were compelled to take to
the mountains to avoid an impassable gorge. The fording of the
river moreover had become difficult; it was as much as one could do
to breast the swiftly running current. We saw some small speckled
mountain ducks with yellow bills of a species probably new to
science. One of these was shot and skinned by Mr. Monckton for the
British Museum. It was satisfactory to learn from the hypsometer
that we were dropping to a lower altitude, and on the evening of
the 17th, after being obliged to leave the river and to take to
the mountains, and after having negotiated a rather difficult
precipice, the side of which dropped sheer some hundred feet into
a torrent below, we struck a native track and emerged at dark once
more on the right bank of the river, now become well entitled to
the name, and opposite to a suspension bridge of vines, where were
some native huts, and clear evidence, in the shape of an improvised
oven constructed of large round stones such as are used to cook
human flesh, that not long before a cannibal hunting-party had
encamped there. One of the police who comes from this part of the
country now recognized the river which we followed from its source
as the Kumusi (the right branch), information which relieved me not
a little as, in view of the fact that our supply of rice for the
carriers and police was fast diminishing (we arrived at Papangi
with only five bags), I confess to have felt some anxiety during
the last few days on that score, and none the less when I learnt
some days previously that Mr. Monckton’s orderly had inquired of
him as to what we should do if all the food were finished before we
had reached Papaki. Mr. Monckton replied that we should still go
on until we reached Papaki. The orderly suggested that the better
course would be for Mr. Monckton and the Cape Nelson police to
clear out and leave the others of the party to do the best they
could. Mr. Monckton replied that that would never do, and asked him
what he proposed to do with Maione, his wounded comrade; but he had
evidently left him out of his calculations!
“We all suffered not a little from scrub-itch, an invisible,
microscopic tick, which, burrowing under one’s skin, raises a lump
and causes intense irritation. Leeches were also very troublesome
in the scrub, and whenever there was a slight halt one became
covered with these bloodthirsty creatures. If one adds to these
pests, bulldog ants of the most aggressive kind, trailing vines to
trip one whenever vigilance is relaxed, and a variety of prickly
trees and vines, it will be understood that exploration in New
Guinea, as in most tropical lands, has its discomforts.
“On the morning of the 18th July, however, none of these small
discomforts were remembered, and still following along the course
of the Kumusi River, we passed through an unfinished garden at
which was a hut containing a quantity of yams. These I instructed
the carriers to take, leaving a pound of tobacco--more than the
equivalent for the yams--in payment. From here we could descry
Mount Victoria, 270° due west, and also Papaki about seven or eight
miles distant. Proceeding a little further we came to more gardens
in which were natives at work, but instead of their being friendly,
as I expected they would be, so near the Government Station, they
quickly disappeared and presently were heard the blowing of the
war-shells and loud cries. A village through which we passed had
evidently just been deserted, and we could hear the occupants
calling to one another in the bush. I learnt later that these
natives had recently driven out or exterminated the tribe that
formerly occupied the country, which would account for the number
of deserted gardens we passed.
“Later in the afternoon Arita, one of the police who accompanied
the late Mr. Walker, R.M., on his expedition to punish the
murderers of the two miners, Campion and King, pointed out the
furthermost point reached by him. I knew Campion when he was
seeking his fortune as a miner on the Etheridge Gold-field, North
Queensland. I grieved to learn of the manner of his death at the
hands of these treacherous natives, to whom he had shown nothing
but kindness, and who had affected to be friendly disposed towards
him. The natives in this vicinity have not yet been brought into
subjection, and require, in my opinion, a severe lesson. They are
certainly difficult to deal with, as when attacked they betake
themselves to the mountains, where it is difficult to follow them.
So impudent are they that only a month prior to my visit they threw
spears into Papaki Station, which is, by the way, the worst site
that could possibly be chosen for a Station, being three-quarters
of a mile from water which is in abundant supply all round, and
flanked by an open plain leading to the creek covered with long
coarse grass affording excellent cover for an inimical attack. I
propose removing this Station to a point on the proposed road to
the Gold-field in the near future.
“Our camp at eventide was on the banks of the Kumusi a couple of
hundred yards above the rapids and opposite to Papaki.
“The river had been spanned here by a native suspension bridge of
vines, which had been cut, but by next morning, 19th July, the
police and carriers had constructed rafts, and in a comparatively
short space of time the whole party had safely crossed to the other
side. A few hours’ walk and Papaki Station was reached. There I was
received by the A.R.M., Mr. Walsh, and by Mr. Elliott, A.R.M. at
Bogi.
* * * * *
“From Papaki Mount Lamington and Mount Barton can be distinctly
seen; the former, called by the local natives Bapapa, bears
easterly 86°, and the peaks of the latter (Koriva) 92° and 98°. A
high mountain to the south-west, probably Mount Bellamy, called by
the natives Ufumba, bears 250°, and Mount Victoria (Paru) 265°.
Peaks bearing 194° and 110° from Papaki, forming what the miners
call “The Divide” between the Kumusi and Yodda Rivers, are called
by the natives here Burupurari, and are comparatively close to the
Station. They do not appear to have any European name, and I called
the highest Mount Monckton.
* * * * *
“I should like here to record my high appreciation of the good work
performed by Mr. Monckton upon this somewhat trying journey inland.
His knowledge of bushwork and experience with natives made it
possible for me successfully to make the inland expedition, and to
see for myself the real condition of affairs in the interior; and
the knowledge and experience thus gained I trust may prove useful
in the administration of this new country.”
Here I resume again my own tale. Our arrival at Papangi practically
ended my labour in connection with finding our way through new country,
as from that point to the coast our route lay through well-known
policed country, where Walsh, Assistant R.M., held his sway; and where,
therefore, it was his duty to pick the stages and camp sites. Bruce,
Elliott, and I marched in advance with the whole of my constabulary
and the sick, who were carried and helped along by their stronger
friends. Papangi carriers, engaged by Walsh, carried our luggage. Then
came the Governor, Walsh, and Manning; while the Papangi detachment of
constabulary brought up the rear.
At about four in the afternoon I decided to camp, in order to get my
sick under cover before the evening rains came on; I expecting the
Governor’s party to arrive within a few minutes. An hour went by: the
Papangi carriers came in, and reported that Walsh, the Governor, and
Manning had dropped behind to gather orchids and land shells. More time
elapsed, and I began to get anxious and sent back Sergeant Barigi and
ten men to look for them, also Elliott’s corporal, who knew the country
well. The night was coming on fast when the corporal returned to say
that they had found the Governor and the rest of the party, sitting
between the Kumusi and another big river, just above their confluence.
They should have crossed the former by a native bridge three miles
further back; and the Governor, being tired, was in an awful rage with
Walsh and had sent to tell me to get him over.
Cursing bitterly all wild Irishmen who lost their ways in their own
districts, and incidentally put Governors in a passion, I, together
with Elliott, wended my way to the spot; only to sight across fifty
yards of dark, murky-looking water a very angry potentate, sitting with
his private secretary on a sand-bank, while a disconsolate Walsh sat
some twenty feet away, plainly in deep disgrace! “What are you doing
there, sir?” I yelled. “Mr. Walsh has contrived to land me here, and
now suggests that I shall walk three miles back along a most infernal
track, and then on an unknown distance to camp, in the dark!” he fairly
bellowed; “get me out of this!” By this time it was raining steadily.
“The only way that I can bring you over is by making rafts,” I yelled;
“and by the time I get back, and the rafts are made, it will be late
at night. Can you swim?” “Yes.” “The damned place has alligators,”
whispered Elliott. “That’s all right, Elliott; you and I are going over
with the detachment to fetch him. Strip!” And I yelled again to the
Governor, “We are coming for you, sir!”
Then Elliott and I, together with all the police, swam across. When
we landed at the other side, we found a naked representative of his
Majesty, accompanied by an equally naked P.S., waiting on the bank.
Walsh was trying to make protests, but was having a literally cold
shoulder turned on him. His Excellency’s escort were making bundles of
his and their clothes, and tying them on their heads, my men relieved
them of some, and while they were tying them on, Walsh, who was
frantically undressing in an hysterical condition, squeaked, “R.M., the
damned crocodiles will get him, and we shall get the sack!” “In you go
first, Walsh,” I coldly replied.
“Though it was necessary for me to swim across, Monckton,” remarked
his Excellency, as he dressed and glowered at Walsh, “pray tell me why
it was necessary for you, Elliott, and the police to do it twice?”
“To give the crocodiles a larger choice, sir,” I answered. “Not even
a crocodile would be fool enough to mistake Walsh for a Judge or a
Governor!”
That night we arrived at Bogi Station, a police post, where Mr.
Alexander Clunas, the local big-wig, waited upon the Governor and
invited the whole party to dinner; an invitation that circumstances
prevented both his Excellency and myself from accepting. The remainder
of the party, however, went, with somewhat ill results! The reason
for my being unable to accept Clunas’ invitation was that I had to
attend one of my carriers, who was very ill with measles. At two in
the morning my poor man died, game to the last, and so long as a
flicker of strength remained, faintly smiling his thanks for any little
attention paid to him.
A few minutes after his death I heard the distant bellowing of a huge
voice uplifted in song, and correctly guessed it was the “tea party”
returning home up the hill through the gardens, and judging by the
voices, in a lamentable state--
“There washe fliesh ’pon wasser
But she wash flier shtill,”
came through the night in Bruce’s bull voice. Then, as the noise got
nearer, there came crashing sounds of heavy bodies falling into banana
trees and sugar-cane, mingled with exhortations from the police and
European curses. “Shove, corporal, shove!” came the voice of Sergeant
Antony. “I am shoving, shoving strongly, but I can’t shove a whole
bullock alone,” snarled the corporal. Then came further crashes, and
the sound of panting, labouring men. “Better carry him,” a suggestion
by a private. “Wontsh be carried. Wontsh go home till morning.” Bruce
was getting musical again. His Excellency was awakened by the riot, and
came out to me. “What is all this, Monckton?” he asked severely. “I
imagine, sir, it is the return of the tea party. I think you had better
not hear or see anything,” I replied. “Disgraceful!” said Robinson, as
he snorted and went back to bed.
Then Manning appeared, supported by two police, his arms round their
necks and theirs round his waist; while a third pushed behind. “This is
a damned nice drunken state to return in, with the Governor present,” I
said, as the police held him up as an exhibit to me. “Not drunksh, ill,
verysh ill,” he squeaked feebly. “Thinksh got measles.” “Undress him,
and shove him into bed,” I told the police. Then a heaving, struggling,
revolving mass of about six police appeared, dragging and shoving the
unwieldy bulk of Bruce. “Don’t make such an infernal noise, Bruce,” I
said; “if you rouse out the Governor you will get hell, and you are
disturbing my sick. I am surprised at you; I thought you had a head.”
Bruce pulled himself together in some marvellous manner known only to
himself, and I managed with the help of the police to get him quietly
into a hammock. “Where is Walsh?” I demanded. Bruce smiled fatuously
and snored. “Mr. Walsh, the two store-keepers, and the engineer of
the _Bulldog_ launch, are all under the table; Mr. Bruce told us to
lay them there like sardines,” said Sergeant Antony. “All right,” I
answered, “tell the sentry to call me at the first peep of dawn,” and
then turned in.
At daylight I routed out the erring ones, gave them a strong dose of
bromide and calomel (they did not know about the calomel), and sent
them off to swim in the river, then to go on to the store where they
could get shaved, and where I promised to send them clean shirts and
things. “You, Bruce, are inspecting the pay sheets and returns of the
Bogi detachment. You, Manning, are making arrangements for me for the
burial of my dead man. Don’t come back until after breakfast, and
remember your lies; also try to look as sober as you can. Walsh can
stop away until the evening.”
“Where are Bruce and Manning?” asked his Excellency, as we met at
breakfast. “I must take action of some sort over their disgraceful
conduct of last night.” “Don’t know anything about it officially, sir,”
I said, “they will appear in a presentable state in about an hour, with
plausible lies to account for their absence. As a matter of fact, I
sent them in the cold, damp dawn to dree their weird in the river. They
have been through a devil of a time lately, and old Clunas would make
an Archbishop drunk; they will be sorry enough for themselves when the
bolus I have given them gets in its work.” Some time later the culprits
appeared, looking wonderfully fresh, considering everything. “Where
have you been so early, Commandant?” asked Robinson. “Auditing the pay
sheets of the local detachment, sir,” promptly answered the unrepentant
prodigal unwinkingly. “And you, Manning?” “The R.M. was rather tired
this morning, sir, and I went to make some arrangements for him about
the burial of the dead man,” lied Manning. Robinson stared at the pair
of them for a few seconds, then, taking his stick, went off for a walk
in the gardens.
“Did he believe us?” asked Bruce. “Of course not, you asses!” I said,
“he both saw and heard you last night; besides, I told him all this
morning. But he is pretending to believe you in order to avoid having
to take official notice. Why didn’t you two fools stick to lager?”
“Clunas had such a feed for us, turkey, goose, ham, bottled asparagus,
and real potatoes,” said Bruce. “All right,” I interrupted, “I know
what Clunas’ feeds are like; get to the drinks.” “You need not be so
blank pious,” growled Bruce; “if you had been there you would not have
come home at all, you would have stopped under the table with Walsh!”
“You are a slanderous and ungrateful brute, Bruce!” I replied. “What
did you drink?” “Clunas had some bottled cocktails, and insisted upon
our having one each as an aperitif; then he made us have another to
prevent the first feeling lonely; then at the feed we asked for lager
beer. ‘Lager be damned!’ said Clunas, ‘this is no Methodist Sunday
School!’ and shoved a pint bottle of still Burgundy in front of us.
When we got to coffee he gave us a fine old liqueur brandy, and then he
insisted upon showing us how his father brewed punch. By God! Clunas’
father must have been a strong man! That punch would make an elephant
drunk! I don’t know how many glasses we had, but Manning went and lay
outside and was sick, and I stuck to my guns until I had them all under
the table, and then I came away.” For a few days after this there was a
distinct chill in his Excellency’s manner towards the erring ones!
From Bogi we went down the Kumusi River in whaleboats and canoes,
meeting on our way one Ambushi, the chief of a Kumusi tribe and a
village constable, whom I at once arrested. “I have a little list of
nine recent murders by that man,” I told the Governor; “he is one of
the most dangerous thugs in New Guinea, and always manages to bamboozle
that weak ass Hislop. I have sent this man message after message,
that unless he mended his ways I should hang him on his own cocoanut
tree, and the only notice he has taken is to add yet another crime
to his list. One of his most recent performances was the deliberate
and cold-blooded murder of a child of ten years old, who was staying
with its mother in his village. The old blackguard had some guests at
a feast; he had plenty of pig, dog, and fish, but that wasn’t good
enough; so he called to the unsuspecting woman to bring her boy up to
him, and when she obeyed he dashed out the child’s brains before the
mother, and added them to the menu. The woman knew it was useless going
to Hislop, so she sent to me through Sergeant Barigi. I don’t believe
the old reprobate is ever without human meat.”
“Ah! Mr. Ambushi!” I remarked to that worthy, “I have been long in
coming, but I have come now, and a strong rope, a long drop, and your
own cocoanut tree is your fate! And I have a little list of some of
your friends who are due for seven years’ hard labour.” “Only I can
hang, Monckton,” said the Governor. “Yes, sir,” I said, “and when you
have heard the evidence that I shall produce, you will be only too
anxious to exercise that right.” We reached the beach, and I sent for
the witnesses; when they heard that Ambushi was safely in custody, they
were only too anxious to come. I sent Ambushi before the Judge on three
separate and distinct charges of murder fully proved; I also sent a
list of other murders I was bringing against him, without counting such
minor crimes as robbery with violence, abduction, rape, and assault!
The Judge heard the cases, then he told me to stop. “I can hang the
man three times over already,” he said, “and he has richly deserved
it in each case.” Ambushi was then sentenced to death. “I want to
make certain, sir, that he does hang instead of having his sentence
commuted by Executive Council at the last minute, so I shall keep my
list, and have another go at him if he escapes the death penalty.” “The
last decision as to the Royal clemency lies with me as administrator,”
replied his Excellency. “Ambushi shall be hanged; and furthermore he
shall be hanged, as you promised, on his own cocoanut tree in his own
village.”
The final scene took place in Ambushi’s village some weeks later.
A wet, dull morning, the Kumusi rolling by in heavy yellow flood,
a launch containing a white-faced ship’s officer, engineer, and
seamen, hanging on to the bank, a crowd of sullen natives, silent
and watchful, and myself shivering with fever, holding a warrant
in my hand, whilst a ring of the North-Eastern constabulary, with
bayonets fixed, stood round a cocoanut tree, to which was attached an
ominous-looking cross-piece with two dangling ropes; a sergeant, with
a sharpened tomahawk, sat on the cross-piece. One noose was adjusted
round Ambushi’s waist, a file of constabulary seized the other end, and
Ambushi swung up until his shoulders touched the cross-beams, where
the sergeant fitted the second noose round his neck. “All clear, sir!”
called the sergeant, raising his tomahawk. “Cut, sergeant!” Down fell
the tomahawk on the rope round his waist and exit Ambushi. “Oh, people
of the Kumusi, take warning by the fate of Ambushi and do no murder!”
called Barigi, as the launch swung into the swollen river, and we
hastened away from the spot.