CHAPTER VI.

VOYAGE TO BISMARCK ARCHIPELAGO.

Having been some weeks on Sud-Est, I left in the cutter _S----l_, and after a smart passage of four days, arrived in China Straits.

The first news that greeted us was that Captain Ancell, of the ketch _Star of Peace_, had been cruelly murdered by the natives of Chad's Bay, only 30 miles distant from our anchorage. His vessel had then been burnt, after the whole of the "Trade" had been taken out of her and divided amongst them. Captain Ancell was an old man, and one who had always treated the natives with kindness.

I have often had a yarn with him on board his craft, and heard the lamentable news of his death with much sorrow. The natives, generally speaking, are most treacherous, but there are exceptions. The Bush tribes are infinitely more savage than those living on the coast, and the latter have a wholesome dread of them, as they periodically make raids, at which times a terrible panic ensues. The Bushmen are much dirtier and more unkempt, evidently being totally ignorant of the benefits of a bath.

In navigating the waters of New Guinea and touching at the various islands and mainland, if you be on a trading expedition, great care must be exercised, as the sight of a large quantity of "Trade," such as tobacco, hatchets, etc., immediately kindles a desire in the natives to acquire it, and unless you keep a careful watch and are well armed, they will kill you for the sake of the booty, and then set fire to the vessel. Many a vessel and many a white man have met that untimely fate during the last three years, and among them several of my friends. Looking at it from a philosophical point of view, this desire on the part of the natives is but natural. How many of us, notwithstanding our boasted centuries of civilization, envy a man his wealth and riches, and, but for the strong arm of the law, might even go to the extremity of killing him for the sake of plunder.

At times they seem to kill for the sake of killing. It is a savage instinct (acquired perhaps for defence) belonging to primitive or early man. Doubtless, some of my readers have heard the story of the aboriginal boy of Queensland who was walking behind his master and begged of him permission to go in front, as "he had such an intense desire to kill him." In the English schoolboy, who delights in torturing animals, in tieing tin cans to dogs' tails, and in playing practical jokes upon his friends, a relic of savage nature inherited by him from ancestors of a remote age may be recognised.

It is only by dint of centuries of civilization and refinement, that we have been enabled to control and dominate our savage instincts, whereas those of primitive man are free and unrestrained, so we must make some allowances for these wild children of Nature. Maybe, centuries hence, given the same opportunities for advancement that we have had, they, too, will eventually become "even as we are," and their present savage instincts be toned down into mere sport and playfulness. At any rate, we may hope that these, our dreams of the future, are prophetic.

The Government schooner _Hygeia_ had just arrived in port, and upon hearing the sad news of the murder, the Administrator (Sir Wm. Macgregor) determined to go to the scene of the tragedy, taking with him the diggers on board, with whose assistance he purposed giving the perpetrators of the outrage a lesson they would not soon forget. At this time I had made arrangements to go in the cutter _S----l_ on a trading expedition to some of the wildest districts of British New Guinea, where the natives speak a different language, and where a white man is a _rara avis_. The party comprised three all told, not a very large number considering the dangerous parts we intended to visit.

There was the captain, S----g, K----h, chief officer and I, second mate and crew.

Not having any cargo on board, unless a few cases of "Trade" may be counted as such, we had to fill up with ballast, consisting of stones or rocks obtained on the beach. It is preferable to bags of sand, as the latter are liable to impede the working of the pump, and, as our little craft had a small leak, we were all the more anxious to keep the pump in good working order and free from all obstruction, as upon it much might depend.

We made an early start, taking full advantage of the ebb tide, which is very strong in these waters, running at the rate of six miles an hour. We had not long left the anchorage when day began to break.

"A wind came up out of the sea, And said, 'O, mists, make room for me,' It hailed the ships and cried, 'Sail on Ye mariners, the night is gone.' And hurried landwards far away, Crying, 'Awake! it is the day.' It said unto the forest, 'Shout! Hang all your leafy banners out!' It touched the wood-bird's folded wing, And said, 'O, bird, awake and sing.'"

We soon swept past the South Foreland and across Milne Bay, anchoring in a small bight on its northern shores, a few miles to the westward of East Cape. Not far from here, viz. at Bentley Bay, which lies to the north-west, there are some strange-looking natives. All the men have the fully-developed breasts of a woman. This is all the more remarkable, as such a peculiarity, as far as my knowledge goes, is unknown in any other part of New Guinea.

The distance across Milne Bay, from the South Foreland to East Cape, is about ten miles, and from the mouth to the head of the bay somewhat over twenty. Its shores are lined by numbers of villages, all of them densely inhabited and in a prosperous condition. The villages are a mile or so apart, and the natives dwelling in them are of a light brown colour, some approaching in fairness to Europeans.

I was spending the night at a place called "Killerton," and after kai-kai (supper) joined a circle of young men and maidens who were seated on the ground, passing the tranquil hours of night in singing and general conversation. The conversation was hardly suited to a fashionable drawing-room reception, but from a native's point of view was modesty itself.

Among the faces grouped around me I was much struck by that of a young girl of about 16 years of age. Her complexion was very fair, her figure full of grace. Her face, of which the features were decidedly of a Caucasian type, was full of animation, her eyes sparkling with fun and humour, a "toga" or scarf was loosely thrown over her left shoulder, serving to heighten the effect of her charms, as she coquettishly tossed her head aside, her eyes at one time pensively looking downwards, at another filled with the fire of impetuous youth. At first I mistook her for a half-caste, but I reflected that such a breed is unknown in New Guinea; and afterwards, from my enquiries, learnt that both her parents were natives, pure and simple.

There are splendid plantations of yams, taro, bananas, plantains, sweet potatoes, and groves of sago, coco-nut, and the betel palm, extending from the beach for several miles inland. Behind is a vast amphitheatre of mountains, with numerous rivers and creeks.

The soil on the flats is most fertile, and capable of growing anything. Near the village "Maivara" there is some very good undulating land, which I have not the slightest doubt would fatten cattle. There is but one drawback to this district, viz., the heavy moisture caused by the frequent rains. This excess of moisture makes a prolonged residence in the bay unhealthy. The natives are better off here than in most parts. They have good houses, fine plantations, and a superabundance of food. They are very fond of feasting and dancing, and hold several great feasts during the year.

I must not omit to mention the millions of coco-nut palms that thrive here. They are to be found in all stages of growth, and close to the water's edge.

On the one tree you can see a whole family of nuts, from the baby, the size of a walnut, to the fully-matured, the size of a human head.

It is from Milne Bay that the greater part of the copra is obtained. I should estimate the total population of the bay to be not far short of 8,000. From this number a very fair idea of the quantities of yams, taro, etc., necessary for home consumption, may be formed.

We remained at anchor one night and at 7 a.m. the next day decided to weigh anchor, and continue our journey. Easier said than done. Two of us worked at the winch, heaved the chain short, when, to our discomfiture, the anchor obstinately refused to leave its watery bed. We tugged and swore, then swore and tugged, but all to no purpose. The anchor, which was a heavy one, had evidently got foul of a lump of coral, and do what we could we were unable to influence it. We were in about seven fathoms of water, and in dangerous proximity to a coral reef, just on our lee. To add to the mortification of our enforced imprisonment, the breeze was every moment increasing in strength. Of course we might have slipped our cable, but what should we have down with only a light anchor to depend upon? We should have been obliged to relinquish our voyage, and return to China Straits. Seeing some natives on the beach we hailed them, when they at once boarded us. Upon offering them several sticks of tobacco, three of them dived and attempted to free the anchor. The attempt proved futile, as the water was too deep for them. We then got out a kedge anchor, and hoisted the mainsail, but all of no avail.

We now held a consultation, and one of us suggested we should slip the cable.

We decided, after a few minutes' rest, to have one more trial, and if unsuccessful to leave our anchor at the bottom of the ocean, and return to port. After numerous efforts, we felt a sudden jerk, when up came the anchor with a large lump of coral attached to it. We were soon under weigh, and after beating for several hours under a strong breeze, came to an anchorage close to a native village on Lydia Island.

This island is immediately abreast of Normanby Island or Du-au. There are numerous villages here, and all the hills are covered with plantations. The natives, too, are superior, and, in my opinion, thoroughly to be trusted. A native chief, named Paulo, owns considerable property on the island, and therefore has great influence. I have often met him, and have invariably found him to be trustworthy.

He is not particularly handsome, having a mouth of enormous dimensions, as large as an ordinary letter-box. His headquarters are at "Quato," but he often spends a couple of weeks at his country residence on Lydia Island.

As we had a long journey before us we obtained from the natives a large quantity of firewood, and filled up our water tank and cask, as, on a voyage of any extent, those are the two most important items. We invited one of the natives to accompany us on the trip. He signified his willingness, and came on board. We made a start early the next morning, and after accompanying us for a mile, he jumped into his canoe and returned home. As we purposed going such a great distance, he considered the chances of coming back very remote and uncertain. He would have come in very handy for cutting up firewood and boiling yams, otherwise we were just as well without him.

The harbour we had just left is an excellent one, with good holding ground and perfectly sheltered from all winds.

We had to navigate between several dangerous-looking coral reefs, and in a few hours rounded Cape Ventenat, the south end of Normanby Island.

Canoes came from the shore loaded with yams, etc., which we purchased from the natives, keeping our vessel close-hauled, in order to permit of their approach.

We soon left them far behind, and passed close to the small island "Digaragara." This last is memorable on account of the terrible tragedy that took place there a few years previously.

A young man, Fred Miller, who was engaged in the Beche-de-mer fishery, had a smoke house on this island, and employed several of the savages. His boat was on the beach, and he was superintending the curing of the fish, when the natives, without any warning, suddenly made a dash at him. Some held him while the others put an end to him with their "tomahawks." Miller had always treated the natives well, and had never interfered with or molested them in any way. It was simply their lust of plunder, added to the distinction gained by obtaining a human head.

Were these diabolical savages punished for this outrage?

I regret to say no. Nothing was done to them. It was only another white man added to their list of victims. His murderers are to this day enjoying their full liberty, and doubtless, when seated around the camp fires, recount to their friends, with careless glee, the history of their terrible deeds.

Everyone who had known Miller, and he had many friends, was furious when he heard the details of the massacre.

The natives of Normanby have always been of a stubborn and hostile disposition, refusing to have anything to do with the white man, or to have any trading relations with him. Maybe this is partly owing to the terrible scenes enacted by those on board the _Hopeful_ seven years ago. The _Hopeful_ was a schooner engaged in the labour trade.

She was accustomed to make voyages to the South Seas for the purpose of obtaining Kanaka labourers for the sugar plantations in Queensland. The term of their indentures was three years, when they had to be restored to their homes.

About the year 1883, finding the business in the South Seas rather overdone, she turned her attention to New Guinea.

A man of the name of Williams was the captain in command of her, and McNeil acted as Government agent. They proceeded to Normanby Island for recruiting purposes.

Instead of obtaining recruits in a legitimate way, they behaved in the most brutal manner. Armed to the teeth, they landed in one of their boats and kidnapped the natives against their will. If any struggled they shot them down without mercy, and even shot them in the water as they were swimming from their canoes to the shore.

After killing many, and imprisoning as many as they could on board, they sailed to Queensland, where they landed their living freight.

They say "murder will out," and so it did in this instance. The Government, immediately upon hearing of their outrageous conduct, arrested McNeil and Williams, and at the same time caused the unwilling immigrants to be returned to their island homes. In due course the two culprits were tried, found guilty, and sentenced to be hanged. As is fashionable in such cases, a monster petition was got up by the people of Queensland to reprieve these murderers, and laid before the Executive Council. After long deliberation the Council commuted the sentence to penal servitude for life, the _first five years in irons_. One of the prisoners (McNeil) died in his irons. The Queensland Government also strictly forbade any more recruiting in New Guinea, so _that_ was the last time natives in New Guinea were torn from their homes. Recruiting is still permitted in the South Seas, but the regulations in force are most strict.

At the time of my leaving Queensland for this country, namely, November, 1889, the Government were seriously considering the advisability of prohibiting further importation of Kanaka labour.

To this, of course, the planters seriously objected, as they maintain they cannot afford to work their plantations with white labour.

The _Hopeful_ massacres have undoubtedly caused reprisals on the part of the Normanby Islanders, and not without excuse.

Unfortunately the innocent have to suffer for the sins of the guilty.

* * * * *

We now laid our course for the "Woodlark Islands," 70 miles to the north-east. We hugged the coast of Normanby as far as Cape Pearson, when we stood out to sea. The coast up to this point is very bold and rugged.

A square block of frowning mountains runs from Cape Ventenat to Cape Pearson.

Loud claps of thunder reverberated through the hills; black clouds were sailing along with threatening aspect. Strong gusts of wind burst with fury against our little craft as she tore through the seething foam.

We were travelling eight knots an hour--a great speed for a boat of 12 tons. Luckily, the wind was pretty favourable, otherwise we should have had a bad time of it. As it was, we deemed it prudent to close reef the mainsail and jib. Evidently we were in for a dirty night, as the wind hourly increased in strength. Our boat, however, was staunch and true, and laughed at wind and storm.

Darkness suddenly fell on us, as, in tropical countries, no sooner has the sun set than night spreads her black mantle over land and sea.

After careering for some hours at a breakneck speed, we began to think it was high time to "heave to." We roughly estimated the distance we had travelled and our proximity to a large island. Knowing that a reef extended from this island, we were most anxious to keep it at a respectful distance, as to run on to it at the rate of eight knots an hour meant certain destruction, as a heavy sea was breaking on it.

I suggested "heaving to," at 10.00 p.m., but my two comrades considered 9.30 to be safer, so, being in the minority, I gave in. Fortunate for us that we did so.

"Heaving to" with half a gale blowing, and a heavy sea running is rather a delicate matter. We took up our respective stations, and watching a good opportunity, sung out "ready" when, with the exception of shipping half-a-dozen buckets of water, the manoeuvre was successfully carried out.

Everything was made as snug as possible, but we prepared ourselves to spend an anxious and restless night.

The wind still held sway. How our little craft did "job" about! There was no sleep for any of us that night. The whole of our attention was concentrated on the boat, as the slightest carelessness or neglect, in such a sea, on our part, would almost certainly have fatal consequences.

As the first streaks of dawn lined the horizon our position was made known to us.

To our great surprise, there, right in front of us, not 200 yards away, stood the island, with the coral reef merely a few boats' lengths ahead. We realized that we had had a narrow escape. Where should we have been had we "stood on" for a few seconds longer the previous night? Dashed to pieces amongst the coral rocks, and food for the sharks. In less than two minutes we had slackened the sheets and away we tore, our lee gunwale under water most of the time, beating our way to "Egum" (Little Woodlarks), 10 miles to the eastward, which we were glad to reach at 5 o'clock that evening.

Directly the sails were furled and everything made fast, we were honoured by a succession of visitors, both men and women. It is very unusual for the latter to come spontaneously on board. The chief's wife welcomed us to the island, and stated that a dish of yams was being prepared for our delectation. We sent on shore a billy-can and some tea, thus saving us the trouble of boiling it on board. We felt rather tired with our tempestuous voyage, and were glad of a rest.

Our most distinguished visitor was "Tokaiakus," the Dwarf.

Not having met him before, I was introduced with due ceremony. In all my travels I had never beheld such a curiosity. Let me endeavour to describe him. Imagine a man 3 feet 6 inches in height, of a chocolate colour, 35 years of age, having a Herculean chest, with arms the length of a child's. An immense head covered with a shock of hair falling on his neck in ringlets, a flat nose, and a mouth stretching from ear to ear. Add to all a light summer suit consisting of a palm leaf round his loins, and the picture is complete. He was, without exception, the most monstrous specimen of Papuan humanity in the whole of New Guinea. As both he and I understood the language spoken on the southeast coast, we soon became on friendly terms.

The chief of "Egum" was absent, having gone on a cruise to the "Trobriand Islands," and was not expected back for a month. The houses on "Egum" were different from those we had been accustomed to. Instead of being built on blocks they were level with the ground. The anchorage here is quite sheltered, being close in to a small reef.

The difficulty is in reaching it; once there you are in still water and can remain at anchor without fear of dragging. In navigating these parts you have to trust mainly to your eyesight as it is practically unsurveyed. A chart would only lead to confusion and maybe into peril.

"Egum" is connected with another small island by a coral reef on which the surf breaks with some violence. This reef lies to the E.N.E.

About sundown the natives came off with the yams and tea prepared for us.

They had boiled the yams in coco-nut milk, which is far preferable to water. We fell to with a will, the sea air having given us a good appetite. We showed our visitors over the vessel, when they expressed their admiration at everything they saw. They had never seen a vessel of such large dimensions, viz. 12 tons.

They were particularly interested in a cabinet photograph of a young lady, which adorned our cabin. We explained to them that it was a "Sina Dim-dim," _i.e._ a White Lady, in fact was the wife of one of us. In answer to our queries they considered her "_very good_."

After supper two of us took the dinghy and rowed on shore, leaving our mate in charge of the cutter.

The island contains about 30 inhabitants. We were quickly surrounded by the entire population. They were very anxious to know how long we intended to stay and whither we were bound? We informed them we were going a long way over the sea to a strange land, and could not possibly return for at least a month, but that we would not fail to give them a call on our way back.

The next morning we went to the adjoining island, where we bagged three or four pigeons. We also obtained some Beche-de-mer from the natives, for which we paid them in tobacco.

I had hoped to meet a native princess, the daughter of the chief of the Woodlarks, but was doomed to disappointment. I had received a glowing description of her beauty, and my curiosity was excited. However, I had the pleasure of seeing her on my return visit.

A small cutter belonging to us, named the "_A----s_" had left "Egum" for the Trobriand Group a few days previous, so, as we wished to fall in with her, we decided to sail on the following day. We invited the dwarf and a boy of the name of Sindiwaia to accompany us, promising to bring them safely home in one "moon."

To our astonishment they both accepted our kind offer, notwithstanding we were bound for New Britain, a country they had never heard of. After taking an affectionate farewell of their friends they came on board with their luggage. Their luggage consisted of two bau-bau pipes, a few betel nuts and two or three native mats. Whatever wardrobe they possessed was left on shore. We conducted them to the "hold," which was to be their sleeping quarters during the trip. They stowed their worldly possessions down below and prepared to enjoy themselves. It showed great pluck in them, trusting themselves so far away from home and for so long a period.

Our number was now increased to five, quite enough for so small a craft. Having finished our business, we left for the Trobriands, hoping to overtake the cutter "_A----s_," although we were ignorant of where we should meet her.

When leaving "Egum" you have to go through a barrier reef. The openings are very narrow, therefore it behoves you to be well on the alert. Also in this district it always appears to be blowing half a gale. It is absolutely necessary for one man to stand in the bows and give warning to the helmsman of any reefs or shoals. You can always recognise them by the discoloured water. We often had to sail a distance of five miles with but a couple of feet of water under our keel and on the constant look out for "gibbers" or rocks. It is said "Without danger or chance of mishap, travel is never worth a rap."

Nevertheless we should have been quite satisfied to dispense with coral reefs and sunken rocks. It will be years before these parts of New Guinea are surveyed. With one or two narrow escapes we managed to keep clear of the hidden dangers and at about four o'clock in the afternoon were in sight of the Trobriands. Knowing that our cutter "_A----s_" was sure to have called at Lagrandiere, one of the islands of the group, we determined to visit it, hoping by good luck either to meet her there or learn her whereabouts.

The evening was a beautiful one. A steady breeze was blowing from the south-east and a few miles to the north-east lay the island to which we bound. The lurid sun was just about to set, and the sea was calm save a gentle ripple. All nature smiled, as if conscious of her beauty. It was the most enchanting hour of day--Sunset--whose delights are made more precious by their brevity. Alas, the varied colours are soon blotted out and transmuted into a sombre black, but as we gazed on that scene of sea and sky, the sin and sorrow of the world seemed to fade from our memory.

Half-an-hour later we dropped anchor within 20 yards of the shore, and to our delight found the cutter "_A----s_" already there, completely surrounded by canoes full of wild and dusky savages. To tell the truth, they were more glad to see us than we to see them, as there being but two of them, and their boat a small one, it was as much as they could manage to keep the savages in check. They had been obliged to draw their revolvers and for some time had been in considerable danger of their lives. We anchored close alongside of them, when there was much rejoicing and shaking of hands.

We now mustered altogether five white men and four blacks, so that we could have offered a strong resistance. As our boat was the larger of the two, our friends came on board of her, where we all dined together.

What a pleasure it is to meet friends unexpectedly, especially in a lonely spot unfrequented by white men and surrounded by hordes of shrieking demons, armed with clubs and spears, who might at any time use them. Dozens of magnificent canoes, with from 20 to 30 warriors in each, encircled us, and beyond, a perfect "flotilla" of them. All their occupants stood up, craning their necks forward, striving to get a glimpse of the mysterious white men.

What was there to prevent them from killing us and capturing our vessels? It certainly was not the fear of our fire-arms, for the natives of this district are perfectly ignorant of the destructive powers of a rifle or a revolver. It was their gross superstition. They believe the white man to be a species of "Devil," and possessed of supernatural powers. How fortunate is such a belief for us; were it otherwise, if they only knew we were ordinary mortals like themselves, it would be necessary to educate their respect for us by a course of instruction in musketry.

We had a right merry evening. Our skipper played on the violin, toasts were given and taken, and our several experiences recounted since last we had met, seven weeks since. Although nature has not gifted me with a fine voice, I treated the company to a song, my friend accompanying me on the violin. The hours flew by until one of our number fell fast asleep, tired out with the evening's dissipation. We put him to bed on the hatches, with a sail and some rugs for a covering, and soon after turned in ourselves, to woo, with more deliberation, the goddess of slumber.

In the morning, we informed our two friends of our intention of proceeding to New Britain, and that we hoped to meet them again in about a month. They wished us _bon voyage_ and a safe return. They then left us in order to visit several islands for the purpose of trading for Beche-de-mer. We remained at Lagrandiere until the following day, as we wished to buy a quantity of yams, and, if possible, trade with the natives. The native town lay about two miles distant from us. It was the largest town I had ever seen; it must have contained from 300 to 400 houses, and allowing an average of six persons to each house, would have a population of 2,000. At sunrise, dozens of large canoes, in full sail and crowded with natives, arrived upon the scene. Their canoes here are magnificent, all the seams caulked, beautifully carved, and all the sails apparently new; in fact, the canoes themselves appeared quite new. They were infinitely superior and better finished than any I had yet seen. Our little craft was so completely surrounded by them that it was impossible to drop a potato overboard without the risk of its falling into one of them. What a chatter they kept up! Imagine several hundred native throats shouting at the same time. Several of them had harsh, discordant voices, and they were the ones who talked the loudest and longest. If anything out of the common attracted their attention they would one and all send up a piercing shriek, which, unless you were accustomed to their peculiar ways, would terrify you.

We allowed a few to come on board, but the difficulty was to prevent all of them doing so. I had to keep constantly rushing to the sides of the vessel with a naked sword, slashing at them in order to keep them in their canoes. Once let a number obtain a foothold on board, and you put yourself in their power. At any moment they may obtain possession of the vessel, and then good-bye to dear life. So long as savages believe that you have power over them, you have nothing to fear. Immediately you allow them to consider you in danger or anxious, look out for squalls. Take a man who enters a den of wild beasts, what is it that prevents him being torn to pieces? Is it that he is stronger than those wild beasts? Nothing of the kind. If only those beasts had the knowledge of their power, they would not think twice before springing upon and devouring him. The true reason is that the man shows no fear. From his manner and his behaviour, these wild animals infer that he is not afraid of them, and consequently believe that he possesses some hidden power greater than theirs.

It is this and this alone that keeps them in check and closes their mouths. It is just the same with the civilized white man and the true wild savage. Once show the white feather and all is up. Keep your head cool, show a bold front, and keep your eyes about you, and the command you will have over them is astonishing. The whole livelong day, one of us had to sit on the scuttle, keeping a sharp lookout all round the vessel, a naked sword in hand, a loaded revolver in his belt and a couple of Winchester rifles fully primed in the cabin, all ready for use. The remaining two of us were engaged in bartering with the natives for spears, clubs, shields, "chunam" knives, wooden fishhooks, ebony paper-cutters, and even "gods." We also purchased about a ton of yams, which we could easily dispose of at a good profit, in New Britain. Our two native companions, Tokaiakus and Sindiwaia, were unable to speak the language of this part, so we had to do all our business by signs. Tobacco is unknown here, and they would not accept any. Hoop-iron was their great desideratum. Luckily we had some on board. We also did some trading in empty beer-bottles. We first drank the beer, and then exchanged the bottles for Beche-de-mer. If this method of exchange would only last, the profits of Beche-de-mering would be enormous. But after a time they got tired of glass bottles. To hoop-iron they were constant. In time, of course, tobacco will become the chief article of trade, but then, tobacco is expensive. Trade tobacco costs in Queensland, 1_s._ 3_d._ per lb., then there is the transit, say 1_d._ per pound, and New Guinea duty of 1_s._, so it costs you 2_s._ 4_d._ per lb. on board. Hoop-iron, on the other hand, is very cheap, and it does not matter how inferior the quality so long as it _is_ hoop-iron. With hoop-iron they can improve their tools and weapons, thus saving them much labour.

I determined to go on shore, so having told my comrades that, in event of any danger, I would fire one shot, I strapped on my revolver, exposing it free from its pouch and jumped into one of the canoes alongside. By signs I intimated to them my desire, but before trusting myself to the tender mercies of such nice-looking gentlemen, I caused the leading man of the canoe to step on board our vessel, where he would be held as a hostage for my personal safety. He evidently thoroughly grasped the idea, and acquiesced in it. I was soon landed on the beach. I had brought a towel with me, intending to have a bathe, but considering I should have to leave my revolver on the beach, I postponed that luxury to some future occasion.

No sooner had I landed than they all commenced jabbering to me at the same time. I did not understand a solitary word they said, but had an idea they wished me to accompany them to the town, which was visible in the distance.

Being alone and unable to converse with them, I did not care to trust myself among a couple of thousand wild animals so far away from the cutter and with no arms but a revolver.

I shook my head as a sign that I regretted I was unable to avail myself of their polite invitation, but whether they understood my meaning or not I cannot say.

The island I found to be very low land, not a solitary hill on it, covered with light small bushes or trees, with a sandy, dry soil. Notwithstanding this, there is a plentiful supply of yams; in fact, they have plenty to spare. There would be no difficulty in obtaining a cargo of 10 to 20 tons.

All the islands of the Trobriand Group are low-lying, thickly populated, and well supplied with food. The natives of Lagrandiere are well-built, fine-looking men, dark-skinned, and are constantly on the war-path. At the time of our visit, they had just returned from one of their predatory expeditions, covered with glory, and laden with the spoils of war. They had completely routed the enemy, and had burnt their villages. We may deplore the brutality of these intertribal fights, but it is the sefights or wars that perpetuate the race by saving its members from the fatal effects of sloth, and a lack of interest in life. If in Europe even, all war or chance of war were at an end, the spirit of true manliness might in time languish, despite the duties, occupations, and generous ambitions of civilization.

A great chief, if not the greatest in New Guinea, resides in the Trobriands, and holds dominion over them.

He has a splendid house to live in, and a large retinue of slaves. He never walks a yard, but is always carried on a kind of sedan-chair or stretcher. His word is law, and his influence over the natives of his kingdom very great.

This is no romance.

He is verily a king. In most districts of New Guinea the chiefs are generally the leading men of the village, with a certain amount of influence, but not to any great extent.

In this case it is quite different. The king of the Trobriands is as much a king to his subjects as the autocratic Czar is to the serfs of Russia. I was extremely disappointed at not seeing him. Unfortunately he was absent from home, and would not be back for a week or so.

The natives took the most absorbing interest in our cutter. They gazed at it in wonder and astonishment. They felt it in their hands to make sure it was a reality and not an empty delusion. We steered by a wheel. The wheel seemed to take their fancy immensely. Every now and then, when something fresh attracted their notice, they would rend the skies with their shouts, their mouths wide open with astonishment and admiration. We were no less surprised at the beautiful construction of their canoes, but did not exhibit our feelings in so marked a manner. They stayed by us from sunrise to sunset. They ought to have felt tired, as they never stopped talking, and stood up most of the time.

At sundown they left us in peace, and sailed back to their town, which was glistening in the distance. It was a moving sight. Here were we three, over a hundred miles from the nearest white man, calmly sitting on deck, watching a large fleet of canoes full of wild and treacherous savages wending their way homewards. What a relief to be rid of them. There is nothing so tiring and trying to the system as being continuously, for hours together, on the watch lest you be taken suddenly by surprise and cruelly murdered. We felt thoroughly wearied out, and longed to get away from their unceasing attentions. We knew they would not visit us again until the first thing in the morning, so we took the opportunity to discuss our future plans.

We decided to leave for the Duke of York Islands at break of day.

Not having been there before, we got out a general chart, which we studied with great interest. We carried a sextant and compass, so we entertained no difficulty in reaching our destination. We had no "sheet charts," but that was of no great moment. The south-east "trades" were still blowing, and we hoped they would hold with us until we commenced our return voyage, when we trusted to be favoured with the north-west monsoon, as the winds generally veer to that quarter towards the end of December.

Having obtained a plentiful supply of yams, and a couple of bags of Beche-de-mer, we took farewell of "Lagrandiere," steering our course due north.

We passed through a perfect archipelago of islands, and on the second day rounded Jurien. Although we did not land, I took a great interest in this island. Several years ago the schooner _Kate Kearney_ left Queensland for New Guinea, for the purpose of engaging in the Beche-de-mer fishery. On board of her was a great friend of mine, named McDonnell. She was successful in obtaining a large quantity of fish, but through a series of gales she found herself at Jurien Island almost dismasted, and minus sails, etc. Here she had perforce to remain at anchor for six months. The anchorage is in a narrow passage between Jurien and a smaller island, and completely hidden from passing vessels. They were obliged to remain prisoners here until the change of the monsoon to the north-west, as without a favourable wind in their then disabled state, it would have been impossible for them to have reached a port. From their isolated position, and the fact of being right out of the track of any vessels, not a word of their fate reached Queensland. They were six months overdue, during which time nothing had been seen or heard of them. The vessel and her crew had long been given up as lost.

McDonnell's family, who lived in Brisbane, having hoped against hope, reluctantly numbered their son with the dead. They went into mourning, stricken with grief at the untimely fate of their cherished offspring. Imagine their intense joy and surprise upon receiving a telegram from their long-lost son, who had arrived safely in the _Kate Kearney_ at Cooktown, safe and sound. The meeting that took place, when so many emotions must have contended for the mastery, is not mine to describe.

It may be of interest to relate that about a year afterwards the _Kate Kearney_ was wrecked during a flood off the mouth of the Endeavour River.

After leaving North Island, which is the outermost one of the Trobriand group, we were soon in mid-ocean, steering a direct course for the Duke of York Islands. The wind holding good, we presently made St. George's Channel, the coast of New Ireland close on our starboard, and the island of New Britain on our port.

We were now within 70 miles of our destination, "Mioko." The channel is about 15 miles broad, the soundings deep, and the coast "steep to."

No sooner had we got into mid-channel than we were treated to a succession of thunderstorms, with the rain pouring down in torrents, accompanied by violent gusts of wind. It is only in the tropics that such rain can be seen. Although well provided with oilskins, we were literally drenched to the skin. There was evidently a terrible leak in the heavens above.

A few hours later a grand sight enthralled us. A magnificent waterspout appeared not a mile to windward of us, doubtless evolved by the recent heavy rain-pour. The surface of the sea had become an active fountain surmounted by a vast funnel-shaped column reaching to the clouds above. It was travelling in a southerly direction in dangerous proximity to our vessel. We deemed it prudent to "keep her away" a couple of points, when shortly we had the satisfaction of seeing it burst and vanish into thin air. Had this waterspout struck our little craft, this narrative would never have been written, for the writer of it would have been quietly resting in the bed of St. George's Channel.

We were hugging the coast of New Ireland when, rather to our surprise, a group of low islands, one of them conspicuous from a solitary tree standing out in bold relief on it, hove in sight. Making sure that these must be the Duke of York Islands, we slightly altered our course, and after a smart run of three hours, entered the passage, which is close to the island with the above-mentioned tree, and anchored in the lovely harbour of "Mioko," within a few yards of the shore.