Before we left, our food had practically run out and we were feeling the pinch very badly. Both Harry and I were growing extremely thin, and we were always taking in reefs in our belts. As regards weight, however, we were in fine walking form. The nerves of my people got no better. Sometimes they would hear the Mafulu people calling, and then they would be on the qui vive, thinking something was about to happen; they were, in fact, like men living on a volcano. Before we left we were in such stress that we were compelled to try bird of paradise soup; it was truly abominable, and after the first spoonful we got no further.
All our things were packed, and Harry and I were inside taking the fly-tent down, when suddenly we heard a terrible uproar among the carriers. I rushed out, but by the time I got into the open I found one of the native houses in flames, and in less than ten minutes the whole camp was ablaze. I immediately demanded of the boys what they meant by this act, but they seemed to look upon it as a great joke, much as youngsters at home would regard a bonfire. It is not improbable that their object was to compel me to go, for the previous day my shooters had brought in twelve paradise birds, at which I had shown great delight, and they probably thought that I should be tempted to prolong my stay. It is just possible that I might, for the last days were the richest we had had so far as the capturing of birds and specimens was concerned. When the camp was still roaring up in flames we departed with our few remaining followers, the main body having gone on already with the chief part of the loads. One thing that makes me sure that the firing of the camp was deliberate was that the outbreak occurred in two or three places simultaneously.
CHAPTER XIII
LAST JOURNEY TO THE COAST
A Dangerous Stream-Crossing—Babooni—Sunshine once more—Successful Work—Poor Fare—Messengers to Ekeikei—The Tree-Cabbage—Method of Cooking Tree-Cabbage—A Great Curiosity—Spiders’ Webs as Fishing-Nets—Dancing Festivals—Back to the Kebea—Our Bean Crop—A Papuan Parliament—We obtain Credit—A Wife-Beater—My only Act of Perfidy—The Journey to Ekeikei—Back to the Land of Plenty—Last Visit to Epa—Mavai unfriendly—He is talked over and supplies Carriers—Example better than Precept—The Coast again—An Accident—The Natives drink Sea-Water—Good-bye to the Mountaineers.
CHAPTER XIII
LAST JOURNEY TO THE COAST
From our camp at Mafulu a march of from five to six hours brought us to Foula. On our way we rested at a little village, one of those belonging to the Foula people, but situated on the opposite ridge. There I missed my prismatic compass, and was rather concerned, but I ordered a thorough search in the bags, and was glad to find it. At this village the natives were reluctant to move on, and I believe that they were aware we were about to have bad weather, for before we had gone much farther we were in the midst of a deluge. I accordingly paid off all the unwilling carriers and allowed them to return home, hoping to get more at Foula. There they told us that as the Delava River was swollen there was no crossing, so I went down to inspect it myself and found it in a most terrible state. The stream was full of tangled mangrove roots and treacherous with slimy ooze. It was a horrible and uninviting flood to enter, with its foul waters and its mosquitoes, and one knew that it was a veritable fever-trap. In we had to go, however, the natives making a terrible splashing. For the most part we were wading up to our hips in water, picking our way as best we could across the tangled mangrove roots, and occasionally slipping down between them to a depth of two feet, these slips threatening to take Harry out of his depth. For part of the way we had to swim.
When we had crossed we took our way to Babooni, along a track which ran up a valley and then wound up steep precipices. There was no actual village there, but only a camp which had been built by Sam on the extreme edge of the ridge. The situation was grandly picturesque, for this ridge terminated in an abrupt precipice, falling several hundred feet, and having the appearance of a huge headland thrust out into the valley. On each side the cliff came to within a few feet of our collecting verandah, and looking down from it we could see the confluence of three silvery streams, winding through charming tropical vegetation. Babooni would have been an ideal spot for a picnic. There we spent three weeks and had wonderful success in our work.
Except that we were in daylight and amid delightful scenery—a welcome change from the awful gloom of the forest at Mafulu—we were, as far as living went, no better off than we had been on the higher ground, and our staple food was still sweet potatoes; but it was something to have the sun again, and altogether we were conscious of a reviving feeling of exhilaration at Babooni. The Drepanornis Albertisii, one of the finest of the birds of paradise, abounded, and we secured a considerable number of specimens on the opposite hill. I also secured a fine series of the Ornithoptera primus, the bird-winged butterfly, which is distinguished by its beautiful green and velvet-black wings, with brilliant golden fore-wings, the under side of which is black. It is very partial to the flowers of the tree Spirea, among the foliage of which its black and gold wings can continually be seen twinkling. Its colour contrast, indeed, gives it a most remarkable appearance in flight.
