Some Experiences of a New Guinea Resident Magistrate

by C. A. W. Monckton

From here we followed native tracks from one hilltop to another; each hilltop crowned with a small stockaded village the inhabitants of which always fled at the hail of our scouts, and reoccupied the village after we had passed through; at each village we left small presents as a sign that we were not hostile marauders.

After leaving the village we got into a waterless rocky volcanic country, consisting of a sort of scoria, and soon were all suffering from the pangs of thirst. From early morning until late in the forenoon of the following day we went without water, the scouts ranging for miles on a fruitless quest, till the laden carriers showed signs of severe distress. At last the scouts discovered a garden with a man at work in it, and captured him. We gave the man a few beads and a zinc mirror, and he soon got over his fright; he spoke a peculiarly musical language, but none of my men could make head or tail of it. We made him understand by signs that we wanted water, and that we would give him a long-knife and a tomahawk as a reward if he guided us to it; he, in his turn, made signs that he would do so, and went off with Sergeant Kimai and a few police. After a couple of hours the sergeant came back, and reported that the man had led him north, south, east, and west, and had then tried to bolt. “Take him out of the Governor’s hearing, and give him a taste of your belt,” I told Kimai. “I have already done that,” replied that worthy sergeant; “I had to do it carefully for fear of leaving marks, but he is a very pig for obstinacy.” “There must be water somewhere near his garden,” I said. “Take him to a sunny spot and fill his mouth with salt; then run him up and down, and when he blows sprinkle his nose with dry wood ashes!” In about an hour’s time the man was brought back, and I could plainly see that he had a thirst sufficient to make a drunkard of an Archbishop! He eagerly made signs of drinking, and pointed in the direction we wished to go. In half an hour he had taken us to a pool of indifferent water, which we drank up; and in another twenty minutes to a fine stream.

At about four o’clock on the afternoon of this day we came upon a group of villages surrounded by gardens. The scouts waved calico and green boughs, and yelled “Ovakaiva” (peace); the inhabitants, however, would have nothing to do with us in a friendly way. One enterprising individual stalked Sergeant Barigi, and knocked him over with a stone-headed club; before he had time to finish him, however, Private Tamanabai noticed what was going on and shot his assailant.

Just ahead of us there was a stockaded village, situated on a spur in a very strong position, and right across the track that we should be obliged to follow. Fortunately most of the men belonging to it were away, and I was able to take the village without bloodshed, by threatening a flank attack, and then suddenly rushing my men into it. Its inhabitants retreated to another village, from whence they hurled abuse and defiance at us. Private Maione was able to talk to these people, as they spoke a language resembling that of the Sangara tribe, which he knew. They demanded what we meant by “polluting their country and village by our obscene presence!” Maione replied that we were but travellers passing through their country, and that we did not want to fight, but would pay well for food, guides, and assistance. They replied that they would “provide us with all the fighting we wanted!”

The Governor now told me that he did not wish any fighting to take place, nor any natives to be shot, and personally gave an order to this effect to the police. I told his Excellency that the last thing either myself or my police wanted was to fight, but that I certainly had no intention of allowing either my men or my Kaili Kaili carriers to be killed by bushmen. Whereupon his Excellency said, that as I could not see eye to eye with him in the matter, he would release me from the command and place Bruce in charge: which he did.

The immediate result of Bruce’s disposition of our force was that Maione, my personal orderly, and our only interpreter, was badly speared, and a strong attack was developed against us. We had a very bad time during the night staving off attack after attack. Then Bruce came to Robinson, and said, “I don’t understand this sort of fighting, neither do my men, and their nerves are going. Monckton’s men do; but they are all sulking badly, and the carriers are following suit.”

Bruce also asked me to look at some of his own and the Governor’s men who appeared to be sickening for something or other; which I did; and also questioned them. They told me that a strange sickness was sweeping through the native villages at Port Moresby just about the time they left. “Measles! as I am a living sinner!” I exclaimed, and went off to the Governor. “Some epidemic has broken out amongst the men, sir; and they say it is similar to a new illness in Port Moresby. I am afraid it is measles,” I told him. “The Chief Medical Officer told me that there was a slight outbreak of German measles, but said that he did not consider that it was dangerous,” replied his Excellency. “It might not be dangerous to well-housed European children or natives at Port Moresby; but with hard work and the wet of the mountains, not to speak of having to wade through streams, these men of mine will die like flies. Besides, each man that sickens overloads the others, and we already have one dangerously wounded man to carry, with a probability of more.” “What do you advise?” asked the Governor. “Make for the coast, where shelter can be obtained for the men, as fast as we possibly can,” was my answer. “How?” he asked. “A bee line over the Hydrographers,” I replied. “That is, abandon the work we are on and confess failure! That will never do: my very first work! Did Sir William MacGregor ever do such a thing?” he asked. “I have never heard of his doing so,” I replied. “Then why do you advise me to take such a course?” he demanded. “For the sake of the lives of my men, and for your Excellency’s own sake. If we continue to lose a large number of men, the press and public will kick up a fuss.” The Governor then called Bruce into consultation; after which he called for me again.

“This fiasco is most distressing to me,” he said. “But Mr. Bruce agrees with you that the risk in going on is too great; in fact, he goes further, and says that we should not reach Papangi with sick men.” “I do not think that the risk is too great, and I would undertake to reach Papangi with little or no loss, if I were allowed to do it in my own way; but I could not do it in the manner we are attempting it, and therefore recommend making for the coast.” “How would you do it?” “Fling my scouts ahead for miles to examine the country and report to me, who would be with an advance party; and then keep bringing up the main body on the best route by forced marches. The sick men would then have only the easiest country to cross, and would know that they were going to camp every night in a carefully chosen site with good wood and water. But if they are going to blunder over the country, sometimes without fire, at others without water, and subject to perpetual alarms from hostile natives, they can never do it.” “Very good, then; you are to take full command once more, and get us to Papangi,” ordered the Governor. “I understand, then, sir, that my men are not in the future to wait until they are speared before defending themselves?” “Give the orders you think best,” he replied.

That night no one got any sleep; natives beating drums, blowing war-horns and yelling at intervals, the whole night through, and trying hard to stalk the sentries; the latter, lying flat on their stomachs, potted religiously at every moving object that came within their vision. Just before dawn, the people—who, by the way, were called Kaina—massed in the scrub for a rush; but the sentries had marked the manœuvre and warned me. Whereupon I ordered a volley to be fired into the spot; which, judging from the yelps, yells, and sound of men running through bushes, apparently had a considerable effect. After dawn they had all disappeared.

“What would they do to us, if they caught us?” asked the Governor, who was looking very haggard from want of sleep, and from worrying over the ultimate fate of the expedition. “At the best, kill and eat us,” I answered, “perhaps torture us first. They are a bad lot in this part. A short time ago some similar natives caught two miners, Campion and King, on the Upper Kumusi, the part we are making for, and stuck stakes through their stomachs and roasted the pair alive. When a native woman interceded, they stunned her and chucked her on the fire also. Ask Maione about them, if you are interested; he knows all about their nice little ways.”