While on the subject of Papuan sovereign remedies, I may mention a curious form of bleeding which is in use among the tribes, especially among the younger men. The bleeding is performed by two persons, who sit opposite to each other. The operator takes a small drill, or rather probe of cassowary bone brought to an extremely fine point, and this is attached to the string of a tiny bow about 4 inches long. Holding the bow as if he were going to shoot, the operator aims the little probe at the patient’s forehead, draws the bow slowly, and lets the string go; the probe is thus brought into sharp contact with the patient’s skin, and the operation of drawing the bow and letting fly the arrow is repeated again and again until blood is drawn. It should be remembered that the probe or arrow is always attached to the string and never escapes. The patient now leans forward, and the blood is allowed to flow profusely on to the ground.

I have often seen as much as half a pint allowed to escape. When faintness supervenes the wound is staunched with ashes or any convenient styptic, and the patient sits up. If the ashes fail to act, cautery with a hot cinder is practised. Headache is the usual trouble for which this remedy is applied, and this frequency of bleeding may be the reason why there is no heart disease or sudden death among the natives. This may probably lend colour to the theory of some physicians, that the increase of heart disease and sudden death in civilised nations is due to the entire abandonment of bleeding, once certainly carried to excess.

Although the women do all the hard work of the house and in the field, they are nevertheless regarded with affection. It is erroneous to suppose that they are compelled to be burden-bearers because they are lightly esteemed. As far as my own observation goes, the men are left free of loads, or are given lighter loads, in order that they may be ready to protect the women from the sudden raids of other tribes. Their gardens are often a considerable distance from the village, and the women never go to gather yams or taro, or to till their patches, without an escort of young men as protectors.

On the other hand, the men are not idle, but perform their part in the economic system by acting as hunters. Their chief game is the pig, the cassowary, and the wallaby. They hunt this quarry with spears, and drive the game into nets which have been spread between the trees and posts in the forest over a considerable area, forming a corral, approached by a long decoy, two long lines of nets gradually converging. When the nets have been set the drive commences. The beaters extend themselves for a considerable distance, and, with the assistance of dogs, gradually force the game towards the nets. The game is plentiful, and as it closes towards the corral, birds and beasts are forced into the centre in crowds. At length the hunters close round the opening, a final rush is made, and the victims are despatched with spears. These hunting bouts occur only at long intervals, and on the lower slopes of the mountains. After a successful drive there is a great jollification. Fires are built in the camp, the game is roasted, and in an incredibly short space of time every portion has disappeared, and the people are lying around gorged.

In one particular delicacy favoured by the Papuans I was, as an entomologist, very much interested. The natives are exceedingly fond of the larvæ of a large tropical beetle, one of the Passalidæ, which are found in decayed tree trunks. Whenever the natives noticed the presence of the borings made by the larvæ, they seized a native instrument, probably one of their stone axes, dug out the dainty, which is about five inches long, and ate it raw. Should a fire be handy, they would sometimes throw the larvæ into the ashes, give it a turn or two, and then enjoy it: the flavour is said to resemble that of a lemon. I could never, however, bring myself to try it.

A PAPUAN HUNT.
The natives drive their game, chiefly the pig, the cassowary, and the wallaby (a small kangaroo) into a corral, and then despatch the quarry with spears.

The Papuans are a jovial, light-hearted people, and when a stranger has once won their confidence they are hospitable and friendly. Their trust when once gained will stand even rather severe tests, as I found to my great satisfaction and advantage after a stay of some months at Mount Kebea. I was anxious to push farther into the interior, but found myself absolutely without beads, which are the journey money of the explorer. It would have delayed me too long to have waited for the return of my messengers, who had been sent to the coast for a further supply, so I hit upon the expedient of trying how far my credit with the natives would go. I called the tribe—men, women, and children—together, and in a lengthy harangue I explained the situation to them; finally asking them if they would lend me their beads, which every one of them wore on his or her person in considerable profusion, promising them that on my return I would pay them double the quantity. This tribe, be it noted, was not to accompany me farther, and the beads would have to be given to other bearers, whom I should engage as I proceeded. These ornamentations are to the Papuans as precious as her pearls are to a grande dame, but, nevertheless, every man, woman, and child immediately consented to the loan. This appreciation of the idea of credit—one might almost say of banking—denotes a considerable receptivity of mind, and shows that the Papuan cannot be inaccessible to civilisation.

I cannot pass from the subject of the Papuan at home without saying something about his children, who are the merriest little creatures imaginable. Without being very demonstrative, the parents like them well enough, and the child is not at all hardly used—although, be it remembered, the family pig has a deeper place in the adults’ affections. In times of stress it is to be feared it is the pig that is first considered, probably because it is so important an article of diet. The devotion to this animal goes far further than that of Pat, for it is not unusual to see a Papuan woman acting as foster-mother to a young pig.

But to return to the children; up to the age of seven their life is one long holiday, and they very early begin to practise the use of weapons. Spearthrowing is their favourite sport; for this they use a long stick of grass with an enlarged root. They pull off all the leaves until the shaft is clean, and the root is allowed to remain to represent the heavy head of the spear. Their targets are each other, and at a very early age they have acquired a marvellous dexterity, hitting each other with nicest accuracy even at 40 feet range. Every hit is registered with a delighted jump and a howl. The amount of cleverness and dexterity required for this spear practice was realised by my son, who tried it, and found that not only could he not hit, but he could not make the spear carry. Very small girls play also at spearthrowing, but they give it up early.