Next morning we paid a visit to the adjoining fishing village of Alukune, or Harukune, which is situated on the other side of the point of land on which Keapara stands. The natives, as is usually the case with fisher-folk in Europe, keep very much to themselves, but here they have good reason for this aloofness. The more powerful Keapara men have for generations been in the habit of levying toll from them in the shape of fish and other marine produce. The Alukune possessed no land, and were not allowed to acquire any, though the Keapara had more than enough for their own wants. Vegetable food being a necessity, the Alukune women either had to go to Kalo for it or had to buy it from their Keapara neighbours, giving fish in exchange, but the latter, being the stronger tribe, were able to obtain the fish at a very cheap rate. They were not only oppressed in this and other ways, but their women were seized and taken as wives by Keapara men. Some thirty-eight years ago half the village, driven to desperation by the oppressions of their neighbours, left in a body and settled at Hood Point, and built the village of Bulaa. The other half who remained were still held in subjection by Keapara, and their condition was but little improved since the old days until very recently, and even now they do not appear to be in a happy or thriving condition.

Although the inhabitants of Alukune are fisher-folk, they obtain their canoes from Keapara, and in return they have to pay half the catch; in other words, they have to trade on the half-profit system. We obtained very little in this village, but I cut some samples of children’s hair, to the amusement of the unlocking crowd and to the great perplexity of the children themselves. The children were playing with toy miniature bows and arrows made from the mid-ribs of palm leaflets.

Just before we started in the whale-boat English arrested a man for petty larceny, and we had an exhibition of native grief. Men and women rushed up to the prisoner as he was being handcuffed and led off to the boat, rubbing noses and applying their mouths to his cheek, but I did not hear any actual kissing. On all sides was weeping and wailing; many clawed the sides of their heads and faces either on one or both sides; some beat their heads and faces, clasped hands were wrung alternately on each side of the head at the level of the ear, frequently the clasped hands were held at the back of the head. There was a great deal of tragedy for very little cause, as the man was going for only a week’s imprisonment, or rather a week of forced labour on roadmaking. The comic element was that he had picked a policeman’s pocket.

We had a spanking sail across the bay, and had a second breakfast on our arrival soon after eleven. About 12.30 Wilkin and I walked over to Babaka to take some more photographs. Ray worked that afternoon at languages, and Seligmann had a very profitable time testing the keenness of the eyesight of the natives.

During the next few days we got through a fair amount of anthropological measurements and other work. We persuaded some girls to demonstrate the process of tattooing, which we photographed. The girl to be tattooed lay on the ground, and the operator held a special clay vessel in one hand, in which was a black fluid paste made from burnt resin; this was applied on the skin by means of a little stick. When the design was finished a thorn was held in the left hand, while in the right hand was a small stick round which strips of banana leaves were wound. The thorn was lightly tapped with the stick until the pattern had been well punctured into the skin.

PLATE XVI

A NATIVE OF BULAA

A BULAA YOUTH WITH RINGWORM

When a Papuan has a headache, or indeed any other kind of ache, an attempt is generally made to alleviate the pain by letting blood. Usually this is done by cutting the part affected with sharp shells or fragments of glass, or with anything handy that has an edge; but here, and in a few other places, the phlebotomy is also performed by shooting with a diminutive bow and arrow. The bow is made of two or three pieces of the mid-rib of palm leaflets tied together, the string being a strand of vegetable fibre. The arrow is also a mid-rib of a palm leaflet tipped with a splinter of glass (originally a thorn formed the point); the shaft passes between two of the components of the arc of the bow, and the butt is tied on to the bow-string. Owing to this arrangement the arrow, when it is pulled rhythmically and let go, punctures the skin on or about the same spot.