Some Experiences of a New Guinea Resident Magistrate

by C. A. W. Monckton

Our first camp was at old Oiogoba’s village of Neimbadi on the Barigi River, which the old boy, by dint of building new stockades and tree houses, had now turned into a strong position. At dawn on the following morning we struck camp, and, guided by Oiogoba and his escort of spearmen, struck inland to where the Barigi River forks, and thence followed the northern branch, the Tamberere, along its tortuous and rocky course until noon, being compelled to cross and recross the beastly stream no less than five times. In the afternoon, after ascending a rocky gorge, we emerged on to rolling grass hills, and eventually camped for the night at an altitude of about 1000 feet. From here bearings on Mounts MacGregor and Lamington gave me my position; and I told his Excellency that a line as near west-north-west as possible was our route, and one that would determine whether a valley suitable for a road existed behind Mount Lamington or not. Personally, however, I was of the opinion that from the look of the land ahead some rough country lay between the supposititious valley and us.

The country we were camped in was a sort of “no man’s land” or border land lying between the Baruga tribe and their mountain enemies, amongst whom could be numbered the Aga, who inhabited the inland slopes of the Hydrographer Range, and were now right ahead of us. This tribe I had heard was in the habit of poisoning its spears; but, like almost every other story to that effect in New Guinea, this proved untrue. Oiogoba and his escort left us here; he returning to take charge of the defence of his village against the expected raid. I, however, kept his village constable with me to act as an interpreter.

From this point our way now led over steep-sided hills of two to three thousand feet in height, at the bottom of which there were deep rocky gorges through which ran very rapid streams. From the top of one big hill we espied in the distance high tree houses, belonging to an outpost of a tribe named Gogori, so my village constable told me. The country lying between us and the houses was frightfully precipitous and rough, and the descent and ascent of the slopes made extremely interesting by loose boulders accidentally dislodged by the men above falling on those below. In most places it was only possible to proceed in Indian file, which of course meant that when a boulder was dislodged it practically enfiladed the long line.

Boulder dodging on a very steep slope is interesting because one never knows where it is coming, and therefore has to wait to dodge until it is almost into one, in order to prevent stepping into instead of out of its track. Sometimes the loaded men in endeavouring to avoid one stone would start others, whereupon all of us at the lower end had a truly lively time; though I never knew a man actually struck. There is an art in dodging a boulder on a hillside. One hears a sudden yell of warning from the individual by whom it has been started on its career, then a running fire of curses and laughter from the men; curses, as each man watches the course of the boulder and waits to jump aside; laughter, as—the feat accomplished—he watches the expressions and listens to the language of those below awaiting their turn!

Our order of march was as follows. First went four constabulary scouts, two Mambare and two Kaili Kaili, keeping from one to three hundred yards ahead, and making the easiest line to be followed; then I came with the interpreters and ten of the constabulary, followed by the Governor, Manning, and his Excellency’s armed boat’s crew; behind them again came a long line of carriers, studded at intervals with armed village constables; while Bruce and his constabulary brought up the rear.

The country now in front of us was very broken and precipitous, and after descending one particularly steep slope of about a thousand feet we found it terminated in a deep gorge, into which we descended by means of vines, which we tied to trees at the top and slid down. We followed the gorge for some four miles or so, wading sometimes up to our waists in water, until we suddenly found ourselves in a sort of huge cup or amphitheatre surrounded on all sides by precipices and high hills. I asked the Baruga village constable if he had ever been there before. He replied, “No,” though he had heard of the place, and vowed if it had not been for the police and myself nothing would have induced him to come, as it was haunted by devils! He had hardly spoken, when crack! crack! crack! went the rifles of the scouts. “There! What did I tell you?” said that v.c., turning pale under his dusky skin, “the devils have found the scouts!” “Then I am sorry for the devils,” I remarked; as, in response to a nod from me, half a dozen police tore off to support the scouts.

“The devils” turned out to be a small party of mountaineers, who had discovered and suddenly attacked my scouts. No damage was done by them, other than a spear hole through Private Mukawa’s haversack. Several of the mountaineers were wounded and two captured; they had been demoralized and terrified by the—to them—appalling noise and effect of the rifle fire. One of the captured men was a leper. We could not make them understand a word we said; their language was quite strange to the Baruga village constable; but by signs we endeavoured to explain to them that we were not enemies, and we gave them a few small presents, and sent them off to rejoin their friends.

Leaving the amphitheatre, we followed a steep gorge until our way was barred by a waterfall 150 feet in height, which brought us to a full stop. It was not a particularly enviable situation in which we found ourselves, for in the event of natives on the top discovering us, they would be quite likely to begin dropping stones, spears, tree trunks, etc., on our heads, without our being able to retaliate. Until one has taught him differently, the inland Papuan holds the simple creed that every stranger is an enemy to be killed at sight.

At last Sergeant Barigi discovered a faint track leading up a narrow side gorge; so, taking half a dozen police with me, I followed it for about a mile, the bottom gradually rising the whole time, until it also terminated in a waterfall about twenty feet in height. Resting against the side of the waterfall was a smooth pole, up which the local natives apparently climbed. After many efforts Corporal Bia and four police succeeded in climbing up it, and stationed themselves as a guard at the top, while I sent word to the Governor to come on. When more police arrived, they made a ladder of poles and vines, and by its help we emerged from the “abode of devils” on to a steep hillside, up which we climbed with considerable difficulty in the wake of the scouts, who were now reinforced by Corporal Bia and his four men.

At the top of the hill there was a small stockaded village vacated by its inhabitants, into which Bia and his scouts carefully crawled. Whizz! suddenly came a spear from the air, passing between the crawling Bia’s arm and body, and pinning him to the ground by his jumper. He looked up and spotted a bushman on a platform at the top of an enormous tree. Whizz! Whizz! came a couple more spears, which he dodged. The bushman leant over for a more deliberate shot at him. “You have had three shots at me,” said Bia; “now here is something for yourself!” And he potted that bushman like a rook. There was a large garden near the village full of yams, to which the carriers and police helped themselves, leaving, however, salt and tobacco in payment.