“July 8th.—There is a feast at Yo-ya-ka and I shall be very glad when it is over, as then I hope to get carriers. There is not much food here, only sweet potatoes. A difficult country to shoot or collect in.

“July 9th.—Hardly any food left. The natives of the village of Inomaka object to my collector shooting there, and refuse to permit him to collect butterflies, so the boy returned empty-handed. I am sending a few carriers to father, only three. I have been busy enclosing the end of the hut that Sam had previously hastily built up, as it was left open. One of my boys, Matu, left me yesterday and has not returned.

“July 13th.—Shall be glad of the shooters’ return, for I have had no meat for nine days, only sweet potatoes. Last night I tried the lamp for moths and did not do badly.

“July 14th.—Shooters return with nothing. Ow-bow arrived in the afternoon, but no carriers. Got 190 moths to-night and busy pinning them to-day.

“July 15th.—Father arrived at 4.30 P.M.”

Amplified Note on the Journey to Yo-ya-ka

For my journey to Yo-ya-ka I started from a point opposite the Kebea and went down past one of the Yuni-Yuni villages, situated on a spur of the mountains. We then made a long ascent of some 2000 feet leading up to the same ridge as Mount Kebea where the village of Yo-ya-ka is situated. It was a most remarkable place, and it is difficult to convey exactly to those who have never seen it, the idea of what these Papuan ridges with their strangely perched villages are. They come up almost to a razor edge, relatively speaking, and certainly the free footway on that Yo-ya-ka ridge was no wider than fifteen inches. This narrow strip of foothold followed the main street of the village, and on each side of it the houses were on supporting poles. The extreme sharpness of the declivity on each side, of course, made the houses much higher on the side farthest from the road than on that facing it. As structures they were not much to boast of; there were about twenty of them and all were tumble-down. The Yo-ya-ka people were preparing for a feast, and when I arrived the men were strutting about in their feathers and paint. Various tribesmen from a distance had assembled; three were from Yuni-Yuni and some from Baw-boi. Among the visitors we noticed some familiar faces. A native helper named Gavashana recognised me at once. He asked me to come in, so I sat down and gave him some tobacco. The Baw-boi people, however, were greatly alarmed at my appearance. They began to cry and retreated, saying it was “Fi-fi,” that is, magic. Their acquaintances, however, reassured them and made them come up to me and shake hands. I then tried to induce a few men to enter our service as carriers, but failed, so I determined to return and started at once. When I had gone a little way up the ridge, Ow-bow, for some reason best known to himself, persuaded me to let off my gun, whereat the whole of the merry-makers turned out and began to jabber at the rate of nineteen to the dozen.

I returned to the camp at Mount Kebea, and for the next week or so experienced rainy weather and great discomfort. All my provisions were gone, and I had to live on sweet potatoes and a few birds we could shoot. I tried eating the Drepanornis Albertisii, but it was the most shocking flesh I have ever eaten. We roasted the bird on a split stick and found it as bitter as gall; as was to be expected, I did not go further than the first mouthful, although I was very hungry.

CHAPTER XI
A BOY OF SIXTEEN ALONE WITH CANNIBALS

Further into the Mountains—A Murder—The Settlement of the Blood Price—A Pig for a Life—Harry’s Further Adventures alone among Cannibals—Various other Murders—The Village of Amana—A Tree-House—The Lunatic at Amana—Foula—A Pretty Village.