The Savage South Seas

by E. Way Elkington

SEARCHING FOR SMALL OCTOPI ON THE REEF AT LOW TIDE, SAMARI, BRITISH NEW GUINEA.

While sketching at Samari I remember seeing these men; they were busy poking under stones and coral with short sticks for octopi. These sticks very soon became soft and bent at the end; they then came to me to have them sharpened with my penknife. These small octopi form a part of the natives’ food. In the distance is the island of Sariba.

In mentioning the native eyesight, personally, I don’t think any of the savage races are better equipped in this respect than we are. What appears to be keenness of vision is only training, and I have noticed the same keen-sightedness amongst cattle-men in the Colonies. They will recognise a cow miles away in the scrub, which unaccustomed eyes cannot even see when the animal and place in which it is are pointed out. A little practice, however, soon overcomes this, and in a very short time the new chum is as quick as the old Colonial in spotting cattle. I mention this experience, as I have seen a good deal of nonsense written on the subject, and the extraordinary strength of the natives’ eyesight in these parts has been commented on. I know that, with a little practice, any one possessing average good sight can equal these so-called extraordinary creatures.

The same thing applies to the power shown by natives of throwing the voice. Necessity has made these men speak to each other from long distances, and so they have unconsciously dropped into the {120} right method of doing it. They cannot tell you how it is done—they just do it.

To return to island sports, there is nothing from an Englishman’s point of view to beat a good pig-hunt, and in the Solomons it can be enjoyed better than in most places. In all parts of the bush pigs can be found, in fact, the one thing the traveller has to look out for more particularly than anything else, is the sudden rush of an angry boar. There are no dangerous snakes or ferocious animals inhabiting the bush, and you can pass a night under a tree with perfect safety, and sleep as securely as in your own bunk, provided, of course, you are on friendly terms with the natives. Pigs are the only things that need watching. When a sow has a litter and you accidentally come too close to her haunt, then there is trouble, and the nearest tree is the safest spot to make for.

In hunting pigs the native dogs come in useful, but only for starting and rounding them up, for it is seldom they will actually attack and kill them. That part of the business, including the long chase over fallen trees and through masses of vines and the thousand and one other obstructions, is left to the hunters. The natives themselves are keen on {121} the game, and are very smart with their spears and tomahawks. The white men tackle them as a rule with gun or knife. One of the most exciting pig-hunts I was ever in was when our whole party was armed with sheath knives only. The pig was bailed up against a big tree and we closed in on him, knives in hand, and, whilst his attention was being attracted by one of the party, another rushed in and struck the fatal blow.

Those bush pigs are larger than the ordinary unfattened farm pig, and the boars have very fine curved tusks almost equal to the Indian pig. The young ones have a delicious taste, and when properly cooked in a native oven make very good eating; they are as tender as chickens.

The wily opossum leads its hunters a rare dance, but the natives, who are its chief hunters, enjoy the game thoroughly. It is a sport at which white men are no good as it necessitates remarkable agility in tree climbing. The boys run up the trunks of the trees and give chase to the little animal from tree to tree. They follow the opossum as quick as lightning, until the poor creature is driven to the ground. Then, of course, he is captured easily, as his clumsy movements prevent him from running at any great speed—all {122} his powers of swinging by his tail are lost when he gets on the ground.

Owing to the thickness of the undergrowth in the bush hunting is not over enjoyable, and it generally resolves itself into a track-making expedition, and the only way to ensure a safe return to the village is to mark the trees as one goes. There is such a similarity in shape of the trees and the lay of the country that it is impossible to remember the way one has come, and as the light only penetrates dimly into the thickest parts, one cannot get any knowledge as to the shape of the tops of trees, a method by which one is often able to travel with certainty in less thickly growing bush. This darkness also prevents one from getting one’s bearings by the sun, so that tree scarring is the only sure method of avoiding unnecessary delay in the bush.

Crocodiles are met with pretty frequently in the swampy districts and in the rivers. They are of the usual type, ranging from six to fourteen feet in length. They do not seem to mind salt water in the least, and are often observed quite a distance out from the shore, in fact, when they are chased they generally make for the sea. I do not know whether this is common with crocodiles in other {123} lands, but those in the South Sea islands appear to prosper and be contented in both fresh and salt water.