Two Years Among the Savages of New Guinea Part 12

We landed our dwarf and his young friend in the bosom of their families, and I can safely aver they kept the natives of the island alive for many weeks with the account of their travels and adventures and the wonderful sights they had seen.

We spent two or three days here in order to refit.

We commissioned the natives to get us a turtle, promising to give them 15 sticks of trade tobacco for it.

They started off in one of their big canoes for a small island about seven miles away.

They stayed on the island all night, but were unsuccessful. Being anxious to earn the tobacco, and knowing that "no turtle no tobacco,"

was our motto, they remained another night, and succeeded in capturing a huge turtle weighing close on four cwt.

Their plan is to choose a clear night. They then lie in wait near the beach; the turtle leaves the sea for a moonlight walk, when the natives, armed with big sticks, rush upon it and turn it over on its back, in which position it is helpless. They have a cruel practice of burning the sh.e.l.l off the turtle when alive. We were much annoyed with them at this, but it was too late to expostulate, as we had not been witness to the practice. The turtle, which was a "green one," was placed on its back in the canoe and eventually brought to us minus the sh.e.l.l.

We felt much inclined not to buy it, but fresh meat is not to be despised.

When you have lived on tinned meats for some months, it is only natural that you should desire a change. In a turtle there is truly fish, flesh and fowl.

I don't know whether any of my readers have ever tasted a fresh turtle steak or not, but if they have not, my advice to them is _do_ so at the first opportunity, for it is delicious, and superior even to the acknowledged rump steak.

We intended to keep the turtle alive until we reached China Straits, so as to dine off it on Christmas day. A turtle will keep alive in a boat without anything to eat for several weeks. It is only necessary to occasionally dash a bucket of salt water over its head to keep it cool.

Owing to its weight we had some difficulty in hauling it on board. We then lowered it into the hold, where we placed some wet cloths under its head.

It had to remain on its back for the next week and then its career in this world would be over.

How it did sigh to be sure! It seemed to have an inkling of its impending fate.

During the time we were awaiting the arrival of the turtle, we painted the vessel. We painted the bottom boards a chocolate-brown and the rest a dark green. All the masts and spars were sc.r.a.ped and oiled; the cabin painted inside and out.

Everything was put in proper trim, and when finished she would have done credit to the Thames Yacht Club.

She looked a perfect picture, with her raking topmast and the little 10-foot dinghy, painted a dark brown, towing astern. No one would have believed that she was engaged in the Beche-de-mer fishery, but then you see we took a pride in keeping her clean and trim. We had never been accustomed, like some, to wallow in dirt.

Cleanliness is just as cheap as dirt, and much healthier.

The next day I was introduced to the native princess already mentioned in a previous chapter. She had on a lovely chaplet of wild flowers. For the rest her dress was plain and simple. As is customary with the Court ladies of these parts, she wore a low dress, even in the daytime. She was decidedly good-looking, and had courtly manners. We also saw her father. He was one of the best specimens of New Guinea natives. He had a frank, open countenance, and never condescended to pester us for tobacco. What was the result? Why, we willingly gave him some, as he offered a pleasing contrast to most of our acquaintances.

What a variety there is in the human race!

In native communities, as in European, individuals differ widely. Some are naturally of a vindictive character, cruel, sordid and selfish, their evil traits clearly defined in their countenances, whilst others are naturally open, frank, generous and unselfish, their good traits reflected in the mirror of their faces.

Having said good-bye to our two native companions and their friends, we weighed anchor and, sailing once more for China Straits, arrived off Samarai on Christmas Eve, feeling all the better for our expedition.

CHAPTER IX.

THE "TRIAL."

We landed our turtle, killed it, and then cut it up ready for our Christmas dinner on the following day. In our absence, about a dozen diggers had arrived on the island from St. Aignan and Sud-Est. Many of them were suffering from that dreadful scourge, malarial fever. We had returned in good health, but could not tell the day or hour when we, too, might be struck down by the dreaded fiend.

Surrounded as we were by sick and groaning men, our Christmas, instead of being a joyful one, was gloomy in the extreme. The air was stifling, the heat unbearable, and a sickly miasma was rising from the rank vegetation. It is not surprising, therefore, that our spirits were damped by the surroundings.

I had often suffered from the effects of malaria, so could sympathise with the victims. When laid low with it, to use a colloquial phrase, you do not care "who wins the cup." All interest in life has departed.

When at its height, should any one take hold of you and throw you into the sea, you would not have the energy or the wish to utter a protest.

I have seen ladies suffering from sea-sickness affected in the same way. At such a time, this mundane existence of ours has no attraction for them. They simply long for death to put an end to their misery.

This only shows how necessary it is to try to the best of your ability to keep up your spirits, for if once you give in it will not be long before you are removed to a better and healthier sphere. One of the diggers, Peter Carlson, a Swede by birth, was very bad, vomiting every half-hour.

He had recently returned from St. Aignan, an island 100 miles to windward, where he had been digging for gold.

He, together with two companions and a native boy, had arrived in a small cutter. When half-way he fell overboard, and would have been drowned had it not been for the plucky conduct of the native youth, who promptly jumped in after him, and with the aid of a piece of wood kept him afloat until the cutter came up with them. Strange to say, a few weeks later he left Samarai in the same cutter on his way back to St.

Aignan, and, being a bit of a sailor, had charge of the tiller. A mountainous sea was running, and the night was dark, when suddenly a sea was shipped which carried him and the tiller overboard. That was the last seen of the doomed man. It is strange that having been saved on the outward trip he should be lost on the return journey. His death was much regretted, as he was respected and well liked by all who knew him.

It will be remembered, as stated in the sixth chapter, that on the 16th of November, the Governor (Sir Wm. Macgregor), in company with a number of diggers, went in the schooner _Hygeia_ to Chad's Bay for the purpose of punishing the natives for the murder of Captain Ancell. He pulled down several of their houses, smashed up their canoes, destroyed their plantations, and took possession of their fishing-nets. Two months were occupied in capturing the natives, the last and princ.i.p.al malefactor being brought into Samarai on the 16th of January, 1889. The Government steamer _Albatross_, from Thursday Island, had been despatched to Milne Bay to bring down some of the "Taubadas," or leading men of the village, and one or two native witnesses, as the trial was fixed for Friday, the 18th January.

Numerous vessels were in the harbour (China Straits), the S.S. _Albatross_, schooners _Hygeia_ and _Lucy and Adelaide_, besides other crafts of all shapes and sizes. The human race was well represented, there being all the colours of the rainbow--red, black, yellow and white.

The morning of the 18th dawned radiant with sunshine, not a cloud in the sky, and a cool, gentle breeze blowing from the west.

The island seemed to have shaken off its lethargy for once. All was bustle and activity; men arrayed in glittering uniforms were hurrying to and fro, fraught with important business. Natives clad in bright new pocket-handkerchiefs were strolling down the stately avenue of coco-palms intent on witnessing the festive scene. It had all the appearance of a gala day, the only thing wanting was a fife and drum band.

As the clock struck 10, a detachment of "Royal marines" was landed from the _Albatross_ and _Hygeia_, armed to the teeth, and marched to the prison.

The governor of the gaol and the other officers of state arrived, and, upon the signal being given, the prisoners, eleven in number, were marched, with a strong guard of marines on either flank, to the court, which was held in the Government bungalow. Close upon the rear of the prisoners came the rabble, the whole forming quite a long procession.

Everyone who could spare the time was evidently determined to be present at this the first trial held in the new colony.

People of all grades were there, squatters from the west, traders, fishermen, sailors, diggers and storekeepers, all curious to know if the white man's death would be avenged.

The Court room was well arranged. One end was reserved for the judge, and opposite to him were the prisoners. On one side the Royal marines were drawn up, and opposite to them were the captains and officers of the _Albatross_ and _Hygeia_; the rest of the mob having to content themselves with squatting on the floor a la native.

The learned Judge (Mr. Winter) and the "Crown Prosecutor" (Mr.

Thomson[4]) took their seats.

[4] Son of the late Archbishop of York.

Mr. Thomson then read the charge, which was duly interpreted to the accused. The prisoners were undefended.

Ketabu, a boy belonging to "Sariba," acted as interpreter.

Mr. E. G. Edelfelt gave evidence to the effect that on 25th October last he cleared the ketch _Star of Peace_, Captain Ancell, with two boys on board, one a native of the Louisiades, the other of Queensland, for Chad's Bay, for general trading purposes. The first witness called was the boy Charlie, a native of Pig Island, who was one of the boys on the ketch. He spoke English fairly well, and gave his evidence in a clear and straightforward manner. He identified most of the prisoners as being those on board when the captain was killed. He was cross-examined by his Honour.

After the captain had been killed, Charlie was taken prisoner and confined in one of the native houses on sh.o.r.e.

He managed, however, to escape from his gaolers, and after some hardships reached Samarai. The other boy, who was a native of Queensland, was not so fortunate.

In attempting to run away, his relentless pursuers attacked him with tomahawks and knives, inflicting terrible wounds. He had a gash in his skull several inches deep. I examined it myself. How he managed to escape death is a mystery to me. The blacks of Queensland are noted for the thickness of their skulls, but this boy beat them all. They left him for dead. He then crawled away and managed somehow to reach "Samarai," 30 miles distant. He was alive, but that was all. He could not speak for several weeks, and when he recovered, he had changed from a bright, intelligent boy into a stupid lad.