GIRLS DANCING ON A LAKATOI (A RAFT OF CANOES).
At last comes the day when the Hanuabada people say, “If the wind is favourable, we will start tomorrow.” Vast quantities of farinaceous food are brought on board, and the small dug-outs are busy darting out from the village to the fleet, bearing the stores that are to last the voyagers for their two months’ trip. Then the festivities begin. The damsels of the village deck themselves most artistically with finely woven garlands that lie in close cinctures round their brows. In most ravishing ramis they go on board and celebrate the departure of the young braves by the wildest dances on the platforms fore and aft—dances that would put a première danseuse to shame. They spin round with such dizzying rapidity that, when I photographed them, although I used a shutter snapping at a hundredth of a second, the image of the dancers was somewhat blurred, as will be seen from the annexed picture. As an accompaniment to the dances, they sing the appalling and discordant songs of the coast native, and the merriment and motion cease only for the intervals of feasting on yams, taro, and fish. The dancing is for the most part independent, but occasionally there is some attempt at rudimentary figures, and the little girls, with arms interlaced after the manner of a “lady’s chain” in the Lancers, form a ring in the centre, while the bigger girls circle around.
Some of the young braves sleep on board the last night, and the next day at dawn, if the wind should be favourable, a start is made. The last good-byes are said, the small canoes dart to and from the shore with final messages, and as the great lakatois slowly get under way, the girls crowd upon the beach, shouting and waving to their young heroes, until the last odd-shaped sail has disappeared round the farthest promontory. The men of the village will not be seen again for two months, and some perhaps not at all, for the voyage is long and beset with divers perils, and not every lakatoi weathers the sudden treacherous squalls and storms of the Papuan coast.
Their captains, of course, have no knowledge whatever of the science of navigation, and sail their vessels by cross bearings, or—when out of sight of land—by sheer instinct.
During the whole time that the traders are absent, gloom reigns in Hanuabada. At nightfall the desolate women bar themselves into their houses, and remain in the most jealous seclusion until the daylight reappears. It is a most unflattering reflection that this custom has only arisen since Europeans first came to Papua.
From Port Moresby I intended to go sixty miles westward to Yule Island, and thence push into the interior of British New Guinea, where I proposed to pursue the special scientific work for which my expedition had been undertaken. The point which I intended to use as my centre of operations would require a journey up country of at least three weeks’ duration, through an almost unknown region, where only native paths existed, or, at the best, a missionary road extending for a short distance. Wheeled traffic was, of course, impossible, and everything would have to be transported by carriers. The first necessity was, therefore, to procure transport, a work of infinite difficulty; but at last, chiefly through the great assistance and courtesy of Mr. Hislop, then resident magistrate of the district of Mekeo, sixty miles west of Port Moresby, I obtained a sufficient number of carriers. Mr. Hislop then took the trouble to go as far inland with me as our first halting-place, Epa, in order to help me and to use his influence to persuade the natives to give me their services. The gross weight of the baggage to be carried must have been, at least, 2000 lbs., and it consisted first and foremost of what is technically known as “trade,” that is, beads, axes, 18–inch knives, 9–inch knives, 6–inch knives, tobacco, looking-glasses, red calico, bright-coloured cotton prints, plane-irons for axe-heads, Jew’s-harps—for which a Papuan will do almost anything—and, most valued of all, dogs’ teeth. In addition to this, I had to carry the whole of my apparatus for collecting—100 nets, 60 to 70 cyanide bottles and enough cyanide of potassium to poison the whole population of New Guinea, store boxes, pins, cork bungs, and lamps. I had also a complete photographic equipment.
For our own sustenance we carried a great quantity of tinned provisions, and enough rice to feed our carriers for the journey both ways. I ought not to omit to mention our tents, another heavy item of transport. For arms we had our 12–bores, our revolvers, one Winchester repeating rifle, and one Winchester repeating shot-gun, with sufficient ammunition. We also carried a store of empty cartridge cases, recappers, loose powder, shot, and caps, extractors and refillers. Before setting out it was necessary to make bags of stout canvas, sewn with twine and fortified with two coats of paint. Into these all our baggage was packed, and each bundle was duly numbered.
CHAPTER IV
WE STRIKE INLAND
We start Inland—Friendly Natives but Hostile Mosquitoes—Bioto Creek—Bioto—Guest Houses—A Splendid Game Region—Daily Migration of Flocks of Pigeons—Greedy Coast Natives—Carriers Inadequate—A Double Journey in Relays—We meet the Chief Mavai, a great Papuan Character—Mavai’s Way of Life—His Harem—His Western Notions—His Trousers—His Red Coat—His Severe Discipline—As we proceed, Construction of Native Houses more elaborate—On to Ekeikei and Dinawa—March through Wet Vegetation—Tortured by Leeches and an Abominable Parasite, the Scrub-Itch—A Gloomy Forest—Magnificent Orchids—Carriers stimulate Laggard Comrades with Nettles—The Aculama River—I discover a New Fish.