Wanderings among South Sea Savages and in Borneo and the Philippines

by H. Wilfrid Walker

My boy Arigita had often eaten human meat, and as he expressed it in his quaint pidgin English, “Pig no good, man he very good.” It can be imagined it must be really good, as the Papuan thinks a great deal of pig. We had a good appetite for supper, in spite of the fact that we ate it within a few yards of a half-burnt heap of human skulls and bones, which appeared quite fresh. Our various tribes were all camped separately, and they looked very picturesque round their different camp fires, with their spears stuck in the ground in their midst, their clubs and shields by their sides, and the firelight flickering upon their wild-looking faces.

To our astonishment, our late man prisoner returned and said that his chief wished to see us that night. At once there was a great commotion among our police and the Notus, who all spoke excitedly together, and were unanimous that this implied treachery, and that behind the chief would come his men, who would attack us unawares. We also learned that it was not their usual habit to make friendly visits at night. Monckton thought the same, and told the man that if the chief or any of his people came near the camp that night they would be shot. The man also informed us that all his tribe had returned; no doubt swift messengers went after them to bring them back. The man went, and we waited expectantly for what might happen. Everyone seemed certain that we should be attacked, and if so, we had a very poor chance with from a thousand to fifteen hundred well-armed savages making a rush on us in the semi-darkness, as there was no moon, and it was cloudy.

The enemy would rush up and close with our people, and while we should not be able to distinguish friend from foe, we should not be able to fire in the darkness at close quarters. They could then spear and club us at will. Now we had always heard that Papuans never attack at night, but the police and Notus told us that these Doboduras nearly always attacked at night, and if we had known this before we should most certainly have made ourselves a fortified camp outside the village. But it was too late to think of this now, and we knew that we were in a very awkward position. The fact that they could gather together so large a force as was alleged, was estimated by Monckton from the size of these villages, which showed that they were a very powerful tribe.

The whole police force were put out on sentry duty, as also four or five Kaili-kailis who had been taught at Cape Nelson to use a rifle.

We Are Attacked By Night.

A Night Attack—A Little Mistake—Horrible Barbarities of the Doboduras—Eating a Man Alive—A Sinister Warning—Saved by Rain—Daylight at Last—“Prudence the Better Part”—The Return—Welcome by the Notus—“Orakaiba.”

I was busily engaged in writing my notes of the day, with my rifle by my side, when suddenly a shot rang out, followed by another and another, then a volley from all the sentries on one side of the camp, and the darkness was lit up by the flashes of their rifles. Then came the thrilling war-cry, “Ooh-h-h-h! ah-h-h-h!” that made one’s blood run cold, especially under such surroundings. All the camp was now in the utmost confusion, and there was a great panic among our carriers, who flung themselves on the ground yelling with fear. Never was there such a fiendish noise! I sprang to my feet, flinging my note-book away and picking up my rifle, and ran back to where Monckton was yelling out: “Fall in, fall in, for God’s sake fall in!”

Two houses were hastily set on fire, and instantly became furnaces which lit up the surroundings and the tops of the tall coconut palms over-head, which even in this moment of danger appeared to me like a glimpse of fairyland. I noticed a line of fire-sticks waving in the darkness outside. They seemed to be slowly advancing, and in the excitement of the moment I mistook them for the enemy—and fired!

Luckily, my shot did not take effect, as I soon found out that these fire-sticks were held by some of our own carriers, who had been told by Monckton to carry them so that we could distinguish them from the enemy in case we were attacked. Monckton turned to where the Notus, were, and seeing them all decked out in their war plumes, dancing about among the prostrate carriers, and waving their clubs and spears, naturally took them for Dobodura warriors, and nearly fired at them. He angrily ordered them to take off their feathers.

Calmness soon settled down again, and we learned that the police had fired at some Doboduras who were creeping up into the camp. How many there were we could not tell, but later on we learnt that some of them had been killed, and seeing the flash of the rifles, which was a new experience to them, the rest had retreated for the time being, but soon rallied together for attack that night or in the small hours of the morning. Knowing that if they once rushed us in the darkness we should all be doomed for their cooking pots, the state of our feelings can be imagined.