Formerly Kalo was the centre of strange ceremonial dances, connected with the worship of the reproductive powers of Nature.
Initiatory rites were celebrated, and the orgies taken part in by the young men and women were often of the most indecorous character. By the decree of a paternal Government these celebrations have now ceased to exist. It is possible that they were accompanied by cannibalism, but I am not aware that there is any proof of this. Descriptions are extant, but it is doubtful whether these have been given at first hand, for the natives would certainly not have admitted visitors to their mysteries.
The houses at Kalo are the most substantial I saw in New Guinea. They were built upon 9–inch posts and were raised 10 or 11 feet off the ground. It was extraordinary to me how these posts were secured, the soil seemed so loose and sandy; about one-third distance up occurred a cross-piece, above which there were two others. The lower parallelogram thus formed was crossed by two diagonal pieces of bamboo, the third and upper parallelogram by one diagonal piece; these were the steps giving access to the house, and their arrangements will be easily understood by reference to the photograph. The third cross-piece, above which the gable is enclosed, marks the level of the floor. There was an open verandah at one end, and the house had only one room. The house was eaved, and was thatched with flag-grass, and the whole structure measured 30 feet by 15 feet. On the inflammable floor, within the thatch, they actually have a fire on a mud hearth. The strangest sight of all was the elaborate carvings hung up outside, and it was a singular thing that no two houses at Kalo bore carvings of the same pattern.
We stayed only a few hours at Kalo, and then went on to Kerapuna, where we arrived about dusk after a long day’s march. At one point our advance was barred by a small river, very still and muddy and fringed with rank vegetation, the whole aspect of the place proclaiming it the haunt of the crocodile. It would have saved time had we swum across, but the mere look of the place obviously made it unwise to do so, so we fetched a slight détour until we came to a little village where we were able to hire a canoe.
Kerapuna is a fairly large fishing village on the east side of Hood’s Lagoon, just within the entrance. It possesses its missionary, Mr. Pearce, who lives there with his wife in great isolation. It is many years since he has been home, and it is not often that a European knocks at his door. With him we found hospitality. He is pleasantly housed and seems very comfortable and is on good terms with the natives, to whose spiritual needs he ministers in a little hall. It is doubtful how far the Papuan can be reached through theological channels at this stage of his development. A great deal, however, can be done towards training him in the simpler industries.
From Kerapuna we went out for a short shooting expedition in the flat, trackless forest that lies inland. The region is very gloomy; tall Pandanus trees with aërial roots and thickly matted branches obscure the daylight, but there is no dense undergrowth. There the gaura pigeon abounds, and we were fortunate enough to shoot some.
A HOUSE IN THE VILLAGE OF KALO.
The floor of the house is on a level with the eaves.
The little expedition, however, was rather uneventful, except at one point, where we discovered somewhat to our anxiety that we had lost the trail. The two natives we had brought with us went, one to the right and the other to the left, searching for it, and we kept shouting to each other all the time. At last, after a couple of hours’ search, we found the track, which would have been visible only to a Papuan, as there was no well-worn path. We required native guidance also to get us back to the creek where we had left our canoe.
If there were no division between the piebald people and the ordinary inhabitants of Hula, at Kerapuna we noticed a curious class distinction, founded not on any physical peculiarity, but upon the mere question of occupation. One part of the village was occupied by the fisher tribe, the other part by a purely agricultural people. The latter were extremely lazy, and, as I have noted elsewhere, the lazier Papuan tribes are never fishermen, and always employ some more active people to do this work for them. The tillers of the soil and the spoilers of the sea hold rigidly aloof from one another at Kerapuna, and only meet on the common ground of an exchange of commodities—the fish being purchased for bananas and cocoanuts. Yet, strangely enough, the more active tribe was evidently there on sufferance, and was allowed to remain only because of the fish they supplied. Another remarkable point was, that the fishing populations dwelt on land and not on pile-built houses, as at Hula and Hanuabada. In this district we could get on without any other “trade” than tobacco.