CHAPTER II
DISAPPOINTMENTS IN DUTCH NEW GUINEA
As we approached the shores of Dutch New Guinea, we first descried low-lying tracts of marshy land. To the water’s edge came tall trees loaded with orchids of the most brilliant hues and of many varieties, notably the Dendrobium. The mangrove swamps, elsewhere so common in New Guinea, were here entirely absent. Under the trees, close even to the water’s brink, could be seen a dense tangled undergrowth. There was no beach, only muddy shores. At low tide the water recedes, probably for a quarter of a mile, leaving hard mud flats capable of sustaining men bare-foot. During the winter monsoon a heavy surf would break on these flats, but we arrived in fine weather, and the water was perfectly calm.
Of course, the Neas could not go inshore, but had to stand off to a distance of at least ten miles, and we had to land by the boat. A prominent feature of the landscape was a great spreading tree, which the Dutch sailors had taken as their chief bearing for finding the mouth of the Merauke River. Had the hostile natives only known how the access to their jealously guarded territory depended upon that one landmark, it would certainly not have been allowed to stand long. These characteristic shores fringe the mouth of the Merauke River, which empties itself through a small estuary about three times as wide as the Thames at Greenwich. It is navigable for about six miles, and at the furthest end it so narrows that the vessel could be put about only by a clever manœuvre, during which her bow and stern all but touched the banks. With a small survey boat, however, such as the Neas, drawing from 10 to 12 feet of water, the river may be navigated for about 160 miles. From larger vessels lying in the river off the new Dutch settlement of Merauke, which was our point of arrival, it was usual to land in a small dinghy.
A row of a few yards brought us to a primitive staging, built on piles, supporting a floating platform of logs, very slippery with the slime left by the river at high tide. These treacherous logs were far enough apart to permit of a man’s slipping easily between them into the unsavoury stream. Unsavoury indeed it was, for the waters of the Merauke are blue with a greasy alluvial deposit, closely resembling the “blue slipper” so well known to geologists in the Isle of Wight. The Dutch Settlement lay close to the landing-stage. It presented a rough collection of houses and barracks for the Netherlands troops. The largest building was the barracks, a fairly well-built structure of wood, capable of accommodating all the Dutch troops, a force of about 150. The house of Mr. Kroesen, who was at that time the Resident, was quite an attractive building, with a glass roof and thin bamboo walls hung with a few curtains. It contained ten apartments, all on the ground floor. Next in importance was the house of the Comptroller, Mr. Schadee, which had only one apartment, with a large projecting roof and a fine verandah, under which the Comptroller entertained his friends. A little distance away were the open sleeping sheds of the Javanese convicts who had been brought there to build the Settlement and to drain the marsh.
CURIOUS DRUMS OF THE TUGERI (DUTCH NEW GUINEA).
The body of the drum is cut and hollowed from a solid trunk, and curiously carved. The drumheads are of lizard skin.
It is curious that the Dutch always choose low-lying spots for their settlements. Some instinct of home seems to draw them to the flat lands, and better sites at a loftier elevation are neglected. Merauke, however, was chosen for another reason. The Dutch had been good enough to make their Settlement here to prevent the Tugeri from making raids on to the British territory. The thoroughness of the Dutch character, however, appears in the equipment of their station. When I arrived at Merauke the Settlement was only two months old, but it was already furnished with every accessory of civilisation, even including iron lamp-posts from Europe. It offered, in this respect, a striking contrast to the old British Settlement of Port Moresby. Merauke was built in a forest clearing, and the Dutch had already laid out gardens after the Netherlands pattern, and were raising vegetables in the coffee-coloured soil—the result of centuries of alluvial deposit—a soil so rich and productive that beans may be gathered three weeks after being sown. The gardening is carried on entirely by the civilians, the officers and men confining themselves exclusively to their military duties. As the Settlement had been established in the centre of a dangerous and turbulent district, it was protected with barbed wire defences and with a ring of block-houses on the landward side. The state of unrest then prevailing prevented me from carrying on my scientific work. I had come to Merauke to explore and collect in new territory, but the long-standing difficulty with the warlike Tugeri tribe was still acute, and the very day after I landed we had abundant proof of how unwise it would be to penetrate into the interior. On that day three or four Javanese convicts who were working on the edge of the clearing were heard to shout as though in distress. In five minutes an armed guard was on the spot, but all the convicts were found decapitated by the head-hunting Tugeri. The heads had been taken off with the bamboo knife so cleverly, that the doctor on board our ship told me that no surgeon with the latest surgical instruments could have removed so many heads in so short a time.
This bamboo knife of the Tugeri is a very remarkable weapon. It is simply a piece of cane stripped off from the parent stem, leaving a natural edge as keen as the finest tempered steel.
Nor was this the only outrage. A Chinese woman had died, and had been buried in the graveyard near the Settlement. The next morning the grave was found to have been violated, the head taken, and all the clothing removed. The Tugeri never showed themselves all this time, but it was known that they were watching Merauke from the dense screen of undergrowth which came down to the edge of the clearing.