It is interesting to note how the material prosperity of Kalo has made the people very conceited and not amenable to outside influence. Like Jeshurun of old, they have waxed fat and kicked, and they have readily listened on various occasions in the past to the counsels of their lusty neighbours of Keapara to oppose the Government. The story of the massacre of the Mission teachers in 1881 at the instigation of the chief is told by the Rev. James Chalmers in Work and Adventure in New Guinea; and in Pioneering in New Guinea he gives an account of how the massacre was punished by Commodore Wilson of the Wolverene, on which occasion the chief lost his life. The marks of the bullets of the bluejackets in the palm-stems were pointed out to us.
So independent are the Kalo folk that they will not meet the Keapara people half-way for trade; so the women of the latter village have to trudge all round Hood Bay with their fish or other marine produce to barter for garden produce, and any day one may see Keapara women sitting in the village square of Kalo.
Hearing that there was to be a dance at Babaka, we walked there early in the afternoon of Monday, June 6th, accompanied by several boys and a couple of girls who carried our bags and cameras, and we were further escorted by four native police and a corporal. It was a hot walk down the peninsula for four and a half miles, across grassy plains, through the gardens and plantations of the natives. The bananas here are planted in regular rows, more evenly, we were informed, than anywhere else in the possession. We greatly appreciated the cool shade when the path meandered through the luxuriant bush.
On arriving at Babaka we climbed on the platform of a house, and rested in the shade and drank the cool, refreshing coconut water. A very disreputable-looking, dirty, aged ruffian came up and shook hands with Mr. English; his face was misshapen through disease, and one eye was bunged up. As is the custom here, his clothing consisted simply of a string. He has the reputation of being a successful dugong fisher and a great blackguard; the tattooing on his back shows that he has also taken human life. By the time I had copied his tattooing the dancing had commenced.
The men, carrying their drums, approached the dancing-ground with a prancing gait. Most of the men had a more or less yellow string as a garment; some had a nose skewer as well. In the crown of their black halo of frizzly hair was inserted a bunch of feathers, the most effective being a bunch of white cockatoo feathers, above which were reddish-brown and green, narrow feathers; from the midst of these arose a vertical stick covered with scarlet feathers. From the hair, and fastened to their armlets and leglets, streamed long ribands of crimped strips of pale yellow palm leaves. The cylindrical drums were also decorated with the same streamers and with seed rattles. They formed a brave show.
In the first figure the men stood in three rows, the outer rows facing inwards; the third and middle row faced one of the other rows, and stood nearer to it than to the other. The men danced by slightly bending the knee and raising the heel, the toe not being taken off the ground, and as they bent their bodies their head-dresses nodded. A couple of girls danced at the end of two columns, facing the men. These girls were clothed with numerous petticoats of sago palm leaf dyed red, with flounces of white pandanus leaf; numerous shell necklaces with boars’-tusk pendants hung down their backs, and shell ornaments adorned their heads. They placed their hands on their abdomen just above their petticoats, and swayed the latter from side to side without shifting their ground. I cannot describe the singing. The music consisted of paired drum-beats.
In the second figure, the central row of men all faced one way down the column except one end man, who faced them. The movements were the same as before; four girls now danced.
