We found that the Dobudura had planted concealed spears on the track, as well as spear pits; but they were easily discovered by the scouting Mambare, and avoided by us. “These bush fools think we are children!” said old Bushimai, when we found the things; “perhaps before we leave they will know different!” At the first sight of the out-lying Dobudura village, we saw that it was crowded with armed plumed men, back to whom rapidly fled four of their scouts, as my force emerged from the forest. I hastily detached the Papangi and Tamata constabulary respectively as right and left flanking parties, and advanced straight upon the village with my own men; the police had orders to take as many prisoners as possible. Getting close to the village, I ordered my men to rush it, which they did; but the Dobudura, suddenly discovering that they were being attacked upon three sides at once, hastily decamped, and the police only succeeded in capturing two old men and a youth who were not swift-footed enough to escape them. All the other villages were also vacated at our approach, rows of grinning skulls alone receiving us; and again we had an encircling screen of Dobudura scouts around us, but this time they had a lively time, as now I did not care what attack was made upon my main body, and could therefore detail plenty or side patrols of police to chase or shoot them.
All that day I drove the Dobudura before us: whenever they showed any signs of forming, or putting up a serious fight, I at once flung out my flanking parties and developed so severe an attack upon their front and sides as to send them flying back to the next village; until we came to the big village of the night alarm. Here apparently their full force was assembled, and prepared to make a stand. I at once united the two flanking parties into one under Walsh, with orders to make a flank attack, whilst I made a direct one. The Dobudura had, however, lost their leader; and, as my force advanced, some fled, while others tried to put up a fight but without method or order, until several were killed, and again they fled as my force occupied the village. A good number of prisoners were taken, including several women, whose presence showed that the Dobudura had been fairly confident of holding their village against us.
Night was now fast coming; and, made cautious by first experience, I vacated the village for the forest on the bank of the Samboga River, where the Kaili Kaili and Mambare hastily felled trees and built a stockade, while half the police were dispatched in pursuit of the scattered Dobudura. Several they shot, others they captured; but that night we passed in sweet security within the walls of our stockade, though Walker was the only white member of the party not down with fever. I questioned the prisoners, who told me that the spirit of the Dobudura was broken, and that though some of that tribe wished for a pitched fight with me, others were afraid, while the death of their chief had caused divided councils in the tribe. “Why do you kill the Notu?” I asked, “that is the sole reason why I fight with you.” “We were always friendly with the Notu, until two years ago,” they replied, “but then their sorcerers began making a drought, and we had nothing except sago to eat; then the sorcerers destroyed that also, so we had to eat the Notu! The proof of the wickedness of the Notu is that they had rain while we had none.”
Here, in the early morning, I nearly lost one of my men: my party was scattered over an area of about an acre, chatting and tending their cooking-fires, when a Dobudura man crawled unperceived right amongst them and hurled a spear into the loins of a man; the man staggered forward and plucked out the spear, turning round as he did so to face his assailant, and then received a second spear clean through the forearm; this also he plucked out, and hurled it at the Dobudura completely transfixing him, just as that individual was struck by spears, tomahawks, and bullets from all directions. I made certain after I had examined my man’s wounds, that he could not possibly live; but as a matter of fact he did, and in a month was a whole man again. In this instance I did not know which to admire most, the pluck of my own man or the courage of the Dobudura who had come to what he must have known was certain death. “I wish he had been taken alive,” I remarked, as I looked at the corpse, “he would have made a fine village constable.”
Another Dobudura also lost his life in a valiant attempt to bag a man of mine: we were marching in single file through an open space covered with grass about two feet high, when suddenly a Dobudura rose out of the grass and hurled a spear at a Kaili Kaili carrier; the Kaili Kaili saw it coming and dodged, with the result that the spear merely grazed his ribs. As the man was in the act of launching a second spear, another Kaili Kaili reached him and clove his skull to the teeth.
All that day I endeavoured to bring the Dobudura to a final fight, but engage my full force they would not. Several of their scouts were shot and others taken prisoners, and in one place half a dozen constabulary and a score of Mambare were vigorously attacked by a strong force; but upon more constabulary and the Kaili Kaili running up to the sound of the firing, the Dobudura retreated. I began to feel very sorry for the Dobudura, their resistance to me was so courageous and so hopeless. The Cape Nelson constabulary, at the time, were far and away the best detachment in New Guinea, and the Mambare and Kaili Kaili with me among the very best fighters; while in Giwi and Bushimai, I had as lieutenants the two most wary, wily, and cautious fighting chiefs in the Possession. Prisoner after prisoner I released to carry messages to them, telling them that I did not wish to fight or kill any more of them, and pointing out the futility of resistance to my force; but still they went on, apparently hoping that sooner or later I should give them an opening to get home upon me; still, to my request that their chiefs should meet me in a neutral spot and discuss their killing of the Notu, they turned a deaf ear.
At last I marched for the coast again, feeling that my only hope of settling the Notu-Dobudura difficulty was by training the prisoners I had captured, and making them realize the strength of the power they were up against. As I vacated each village on our return march, it was at once reoccupied by the Dobudura, still defiant and unconquered. In the last village, I left ten constabulary concealed in the houses, who made things very hot indeed for them when they attempted to enter the apparently vacated village. Afterwards, through my prisoners, I got upon good terms with them and turned their chief into a village constable, and they furnished me with carriers for many a future expedition.
I learnt much later that, after I had left their district, the Dobudura had a very rotten time; for the Sangara—against whom they had dispatched and recalled a war party at the time of my first appearance in their district—had been apparently watching events very closely, and I had hardly withdrawn before they fell upon and remorselessly slaughtered the Dobudura, before they had time to recover from the disorganization caused by me.
The wife of the old chief of the Dobudura, whom I later made village constable, was one of the finest charactered women I have ever known, either white or brown. I remember once, when returning with Tooth from the Lamington Expedition, camping in the village, worn, tired, and with a hungry lot of carriers. She received us, and explained that her husband, the chief and village constable, was away, so that she was making all arrangements for a supply of food for us. In thanking her and talking to her before I left, I asked, “Have you no children?” “I had two sons,” she replied, “but they are dead.” “How did they die?” I asked. “You killed them,” she said. “Good gracious!” I answered in surprise, “how do you make that out?” “One was killed in the night, when about to attack your camp,” she said, “the other speared one of your people and was killed in your camp.” “I am very sorry,” I said, “I wish I had your two sons marching there,” pointing to the constabulary, “for they were very brave men.” “It was not your fault, I don’t blame you,” said the old dame, “we were a foolish people; but my husband and myself wish we had our two sons again.”