Some Experiences of a New Guinea Resident Magistrate

by C. A. W. Monckton

Night was now closing in, with threatening rain, and then the Notu calmly told me that the Dobudura preferred to fight at night, which was quite contrary to all usual native custom; this to me was a very alarming statement, as it was also to the police. “I don’t like this at all,” I told Acland, “I have been an absolute fool. This village alone must be able to furnish quite three hundred men, and the other villages we passed through a like number at least, which makes six hundred; while there may be a dozen other villages within easy reach, for all I know. I should have camped early in the day in the forest, and built a stockade for the night. If these beggars choose to rush us in the dark, the police won’t be able to distinguish carriers from Dobudura in the tangled mess there will be; and I have not enough police to keep up a sufficiency of sentries round the camp, without the whole force being on duty all night.” Just before dark, our late prisoner walked in and told us that the men from the Sangara district had returned, and the chief proposed to pay us a visit that night. My sentries were posted at the time, but the man had got through them and right up to me, unchallenged. My police and the Notu protested strongly against our receiving visitors at night. “It’s contrary to all our customs to receive visitors at night, and there is something behind this,” they said. “Return to your chief, and tell him I will receive him in the morning,” I told the messenger, “but that any one coming near my camp to-night will be shot immediately,” and off he went.

“If there is a fight to-night, how are we to distinguish the carriers from the Dobudura?” I asked Barigi. “Let each carrier keep by him a glowing fire-stick, and seize and wave it when the fight comes,” he replied, “then we can shoot at the men without fire in their hands.” It was good advice, and I took it; and each carrier took good care that—like the wise virgins—he kept his light burning. The night wore on: we three Europeans lying on the ground with our revolvers buckled on, our rifles ready to grasp, and with our pockets uncomfortably full of cartridges; the police, that were not on duty, lay on their rifles, and each carrier kept spear or tomahawk handy. Old Giwi croaked about the folly of our camp, and exhorted the Kaili Kaili and his two sons, Makawa in my police and Toku my servant, to fight strongly. I stationed men at houses at each end and side of the village, with fire-pots full of live embers, and instructed them—in the case of an attack—at once to set fire to the dry sago-leaf roofs, in order to give us light to fire by. The nerves of the whole party were now in a state of tense expectation, and the Notu quietly bewailed their folly in coming with me. “If we are smashed up,” I told Walker and Acland, “don’t let those beggars get you alive.”

All at once I heard the voice of a village constable, in the circle of sentries, raised in anger, “What two fools are you, walking past me without fire-sticks? You know the orders!” The order had been given by me that any carrier moving about the camp was to carry his fire-stick. The men made no reply, but rushed past him from our camp into the night; whereupon he fired after them, and immediately there broke out a blaze of fire from the rifles of the sentries all round the camp. I found out later that the two men were Dobudura who, unperceived, had been right through our camp, studying the disposition of my force.

Then came the blood-curdling war-cry of the Dobudura all round us, which was answered by a yell of defiance from the Kaili Kaili, and a howl of terror from the Notu. “Fire the houses! Fall in the constabulary!” I yelled amid the din. Suddenly bang went a rifle at my side; I turned and saw Walker. Then came a yell of protest from the Kaili Kaili. “What the devil do you think you are doing?” I demanded. “Firing at the enemy!” he answered, wild with nervous excitement. “Trying to murder my Kaili Kaili!” I told him shortly. Walker calmed down and ceased firing. The houses shot up into a blaze, and lit up the village and surrounding grass for fifty yards; the constabulary and village constables rapidly formed in line, and the Kaili Kaili and Notu, who were frantically waving their fire-sticks, lay down, in order that we might fire over them. The noise died away as quickly as it had risen, and the Dobudura departed as swiftly as they had come, without pushing their attack. I was extremely puzzled, but decided that perhaps they would yet come; so the men stood as they were, in the light of the burning houses, until three in the morning, when rain fell upon us, and the Notu said we were now all right, as nothing would induce the Dobudura to fight in the rain.

It was not until long afterwards, when I was on really friendly terms with the Dobudura, that I learnt what had saved us that night. They had discovered our advance into their country, almost immediately after we had left the coast, and had decided to draw us as far as possible into their district and avoid a fight until the men from Sangara could return; then to throw every available fighting man upon my camp just before dawn. They knew a large portion of my force was comprised of Notu, whom they despised, and expected would bolt at the first attack. Their chief, who devised the scheme, had wished to visit my camp to see for himself how my force was disposed; finding he could not do this, he had sent men who had crept unperceived past the sentries. Some of the men had already returned to him with news, and he was waiting for the others, when bang went the village constable’s rifle and he fell dead, shot through the heart. The fire from the ring of sentries had also killed and wounded several others. Struck with dismay at the loss of their leader, and appalled by the flashes and sound of the rifles, they had then drawn off until dawn should come; but with the dawn came the rain, and that damped their fighting ardour. I, however, did not know this at the time, and was considerably surprised at the whole behaviour of the Dobudura. Glad was I when dawn came, for, on top of the nervous tension of the whole night, I knew that I was the person responsible for having got my party into such a dangerous position.

In the morning, there were the ever present encircling Dobudura scouts, silent and watchful. “Damn these people!” I said, “they have got upon my nerves. I am going to run away and get more police; my men can’t march and hunt them all day, and keep watch all night.” Back for the coast we marched, the Notu scouting in advance, while the rear-guard was composed of constabulary. As we passed through and vacated each village, it was at once reoccupied by many people, and a gradually increasing body of Dobudura followed on our track. At one point, as we entered the forest, I sent a man up a tree to look back, and he reported large numbers of men creeping after us in the grass. I halted my men and faced about, thinking that perhaps they had at last made up their minds to come to conclusions with me; the men in the grass halted too, and after waiting some time for an attack to develop and none coming, I sent out a flanking party to try and get round them, but their ever-watching scouts detected my manœuvres and the Dobudura retreated.

We reached the Notu village again that night, when the old people of the village thanked me for fighting the Dobudura, and proffered gifts of necklaces made from dogs’ teeth and shells. That night we slept like stone dogs, police, Kaili Kaili, and all our party, while the Notu people kept watch. The following day I took the whaler, and with half a dozen police, Acland, and Walker, sailed for the Kumusi River; from which point I could send a message overland to Elliott, Assistant R.M. at Tamata, asking him for more police. The Kaili Kaili and the remainder of the constabulary I left encamped at Notu.

We nearly got swamped crossing the bar of the Kumusi River, a beastly shark and alligator infested spot. “Lord love a duck!” said Acland, “yesterday you nearly got us eaten by cannibals! To-day you offer us a choice between drowning, sharks, or crocodiles! If I ever hear any one saying that your guests are not provided with plenty of excitement and variety, I shall call the speaker a liar, if he’s small enough!” Oates kept a store for Whitten Brothers at the mouth of the Kumusi, from which the Yodda Gold-field was supplied per medium of the river; so here we waited for a week for the return of my messenger to Elliott. We spent our time catching big sharks and groper on a stout cotton line; we got one groper of four hundred pounds weight, and some enormous sharks, which our men ate. The fish had a curious effect upon Private Oia, for he suddenly went into high fever, and then his outer skin crackled all over and peeled off; he told me that the same thing had happened to him once before, after he had eaten a large quantity of shark.

A. W. Walsh, Assistant R.M. from Papangi Station, now put in an appearance with a trader named Clark; they had been searching for a track from Bogi on the Kumusi River to the Mangrove Isles on the coast. I at once commandeered Walsh’s services, together with his nine police, for service against the Dobudura. Walsh was an Irishman, a happy-go-lucky fellow who had gone broke farming in Australia, and had then been given a small appointment in New Guinea. His detail of police were very slack and untidy: he afterwards served under me in the Northern Division, and I had a devil of a job straightening up his men. Then arrived from Tamata ten police, sent me by Elliott, a smart, well-drilled lot; also old Bushimai appeared, with about fifty fighting men in canoes, Bushimai stating that he had heard I had sent for help to Tamata, and thought that he would bring some men to my assistance. I now had a force, I considered, sufficient to smash up any tribe in New Guinea; namely, forty-four constabulary, an extra European officer, and carriers comprised of such redoubtable fighting men as Giwi’s Kaili Kaili, and Bushimai’s Mambare—Bushimai’s men were also good night fighters.

Once more, accordingly, I returned to Oro Bay to march against the Dobudura. I found the constabulary and carriers that I had left at that point in good health and spirits, except one man who had suddenly died and been buried by the police. The Notu, however, had all bolted for the bush; and, upon asking for the reason, I found that while I was at the Kumusi they had captured, killed and eaten two runaway Kumusi carriers, and they knew that I should call them to account for it, also they were by no means keen upon putting in another night at Dobudura, the big village where we were previously attacked. The Notu and their offences, however, could wait, first I had to finish with the Dobudura; accordingly I again marched for their villages, this time full of confidence.