Head-hunters, black, white, and brown

by Alfred C. Haddon

The following day Ballantine took his visitors to Burns Philp’s store, and showed them dozens of axes and tomahawks and cases of tobacco and other treasures, whereby they were duly impressed. Mr. Gors gave Gewe, the Agi chief, some turkey-red twill for a loin cloth, a belt, a cotton shirt, a second-hand guards-bandsman’s tunic, and an ancient top hat, and the old fellow strutted about mightily pleased with himself.

Ballantine brought the party round to the hotel, as I wanted to measure and photograph them. I began with Gewe, and it was ludicrous to see his expansive smile of self-content. First we took him as he was, then by dint of gentle persuasion we divested him of his regalia, and it was evident that parting from his hat was the sorest trial. It appeared to be quite hopeless to get a side view of his face, as he kept turning round to see what we were doing, till Ballantine suggested that I should show him some pictures; so I produced a coloured plate of Torres Straits dances which so fascinated him that he became comparatively still immediately. But even so we could not get a satisfactory side-face portrait of him. I then measured his height, span, and head, and it was with great relief and transparent joy that he resumed his hat. I did not take all the measurements I should have liked, as he became restive and suddenly stalked off. I then measured a few other natives, who were duly photographed.

In the afternoon I went to where the natives were camped and witnessed one of those extremes of culture that are rarely met with, even in frontier colonies. My friend Gewe, clad in his medley of nineteenth-century garments, was solemnly chipping a hole in a stone club-head with a piece of flint! Close by was another mountaineer clad in his native fringed belt and sporran, holding a cheap mirror before his face, and shaving himself with a fragment of a glass bottle.

The following morning the natives again came to be investigated. I measured and Wilkin photographed some more, and Seligmann tested the keenness of their eyesight. He found the coast people at Bulaa, owing probably to their being sailors and fishermen, had even keener eyesight than Torres Straits islanders. The eyesight of our mountaineers, on the other hand, was much more like that of the average European landsmen. In the afternoon Seligmann tested their colour vision, but this did not show anything unusual. Altogether we got very good value out of the men, and it was a unique opportunity for us.

In the evening Ballantine gave his visitors a lantern show in the boat-shed, interspersed with phonograph songs and tunes by Ray. I think they did not understand the latter, but the pictures were thoroughly appreciated by them. I sat on a box next to Gewe in order to watch him, and I had a great treat. He had his hat on, but the military tunic was absent. Most of the lantern-slides were local, and the natives recognised them immediately. One slide was of especial interest, as it was the photograph of a village that Gewe and others had subsequently sacked and burnt. One wonders what was passing in the mind of the warrior, as in front of him was the representation of the “before,” and in his mind’s eye he must have seen the “after.” I must say he did not look at all abashed, and why should he? He had only been following immemorial custom! Like the Torres Straits islanders and the coast Papuans, Gewe expressed wonder and admiration by a broad grin, glistening eyes, and by making various sucking and clicking noises with his lips. He also, like the others, flicked his teeth with his thumbnail. Our glances often met, and we nodded and smiled and clicked to each other; once or twice with exuberant feeling, when a slide especially pleased him, he caught hold of my hand. I got quite fond of the old chap. He had a fine distinguished face. He held himself well, and behaved like a gentleman. When the portrait of Queen Victoria was on the screen, the phonograph played “Soldiers of the Queen,” and I made Gewe take off his hat. He did so cheerfully, as if he understood the Queen should be respected, and directly the picture was changed I let him put it on again.

The evening was a great success, and must have considerably impressed the mountaineers, most of whom had probably not seen a white man before.

It was very interesting to come into personal contact with the raiders and the raided, to see individuals who were fighting each other a few months ago walking peacefully together, sharing the same food, and looking at lantern-slides of one another and of their villages. I would have given a great deal to know what they thought of it all. One thing is fairly certain, those who visited Port Moresby will remain pacific, as they must recognise what is to them the marvellous power of the white man. Next morning they started off home, and our friend Gewe had some hundred miles to walk.

Probably owing to their rich soil and fine climate, the mountaineers of the main range have a splendid physique, and are fine hardy men. They hunt the wild pig and other animals, but they are great gardeners, and have large plantations of indigenous sugar-cane, as well as of yams, sweet potatoes, and bananas. There is a superabundance of native food, and tons of it may be seen left to waste. Excess of food means plenty of leisure, and the energy begotten by such a country and good food must have an outlet. Naturally the people take to raiding their neighbours, and consequently there is a continual pressure, as it were, from the mountains towards the coast. It might be supposed that the intermediate belt of fertile hilly country would produce men strong enough to withstand the main range mountaineers; but it is not so, and the reason appears to be that they have no inter-tribal combination. The villages are usually small, from half a dozen to eighteen houses, and generally situated on the top of a steep hill or ridge. Most of them formerly had tree-houses as places of safety, and quite a number, especially towards the interior, were stockaded. The stockades might surround a village, or occur only as a close fence at each end, the object of which was to prevent the village from being rushed. Usually there was on the top of the stockade a projecting platform slanting upwards, up which the besieged rush to throw spears at the enemy.