CHAPTER IV
Grandfather and Grandmother
Whatever may be the faults of the Papuan, neglect of the old folks is not one of them. The grandmother or grandfather is always sure of kind treatment and a full share of all the good things that may come to the larder. There is no chimney-corner for him to sit and doze in, but he has the comfortable corner of the verandah, and spends his time there looking after his grandchildren and occasionally making or mending the fishing nets.
To deal with him needs a very short chapter indeed. His active part in the work of life is over, and one is glad to be able to tell of how well he is looked after in his old age. A long talk with some of these old men brings home how great has been the change in the life of the native during the last forty years. They talk proudly of their deeds when they were strong young men, and cause the rising generation to envy them, but white grandfathers have been known to do the same, and we think none the worse of them.
CHAPTER V
The Sorcerer
If sorcerers could be banished from Papua, nearly all troubles would be banished with them. There are nominal chiefs in the villages, but their power is as nothing beside that of the sorcerer. In fact the chief seems only to have such power as comes from having a fist that can strike a heavier blow than any one else, or a voice that can be heard above all others. The sorcerer, on the other hand, is feared by all, and there is no doubt about his word often carrying death with it.
The Papuan knows nothing of the laws of Nature, and he usually traces home to the sorcerer the reason for all that happens to himself and his belongings. The sorcerer is the great trouble of his life, and his influence is ever present from birth to death. It cannot be dodged, and so has to be bought off. The power of the sorcerer is hereditary, but does not always pass to the eldest son. It seems to depend upon the possession of certain charms, and these may be almost anything from a stone to a bone.
A tight-laced Dandy.