The Land of the Hibiscus Blossom
James Hume Nisbet (1888)
Country of origin: Australia
Available texts by the same author here
XXXII. Port Moresby.
THE Thunder anchors once more in Basilisk Bay, and the prisoners from Hula have been removed to the new wooden structure, which has just been finished as a jail over in the township, as yet with only this house upon it.A small guard of Hannabada young men act with great importance and satisfaction the part of jailors and patrols over this batch of legal captives, while from behind the iron bars, the dark faces peer out at the bright sunlit sea-shore with very dejected and pensive eyes.
General Flagcroucher has been invited in kind but firm tones, by the Governor's secretary, to go on board the Government sloop, and accompany his Excellency back to Thursday Island, where he purposes landing him and leaving him to relate to credulous audiences throughout the colonies and at home, the story of his marvellous and hair-breadth escapes in New Guinea, and to speak in terms of praise or censure about the hospitality he met with there.
The Governor is an easy-going man, and does not mind what the General may say about him, more than he minds a few extra mosquitoes of an evening, having by this time become well used to both nuisances.
He steps on board to shake hands with Bowman and Danby before leaving.
"Good-bye, gentlemen, I hope you have enjoyed your visit to Hula?"
"First rate, Sir John!"
"Use the bungalow while at Moresby. I have left instructions with the Captain about that job I want you to do, if you have time. We can give you a couple more weeks. That ought to do; see if you can open up the Aird River a little more, or find something fresh about that part of the coast. Your leader, Mr. Brown, is an able man, and has done good work before, he will be with you shortly--and, I say, try if you can hear anything of Killmann, we are getting uneasy at his long silence."
"We will do what we can, your Excellency!"
"Good-bye again; I'll meet you at Thursday Island on your return."
His Excellency shakes hands all round, and getting into his boat is rowed on board the Government sloop, which in a short time has lifted anchor and shaken out her sails.
The Thunder fires her gun in honour of the occasions, and yells shrilly on her steam whistle, which the Governor responds to; a waving of pith helmets, and New Guinea has seen the last of that leader of armies, the General.
As they are still watching the departure, a boat from the shore joins on to them, with three or four white gentlemen on board; with nimble steps they leap on to the deck.
"How do you do, Bowman?"
"How are you, Brown? How are you, Graham?" &c., &c., as they all shake hands, and go down below to try the "tappit hen."
"You know the instructions from headquarters, I suppose, Bowman?"
"So I hear you are boss of the show, Brown; when do we start?"
"As soon as we can take in water and overhaul our provisions. Graham will go over the list with us, and make us right where we are short."
"Oh, we have loads to last us another month; however, I will show you the list, and what we have used up."
And the three men, with the Captain and the steward, were in a moment hard at work stock-taking.
Mr. Brown was a determined-looking, sharp-speaking young fellow of about thirty-five; he was free and off-hand in his general manner and very quickly settled business and returned once more to his pipe and glass.
"That will do for one day, Captain. Have you begun to take in water?"
"The niggers are hard at it now."
"Then we will start at daybreak to-morrow. Steward, have you any cham?"
"Yes, sah, one case only."
"Well, we don't want it on our journey, so what say you to a little party to-night, gentlemen? There are the war-sloop party of officers, the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Lang, for respectability, the surveyor, and Captain Maunville, of the Bungalow."
"Not a bad idea, if they will come."
"Oh, they'll come fast enough. I wonder when any of them tasted champagne last!"
"But how are we to hold them?"
"We'll manage, don't fret, old man."
"Best take the store for the occasion," observed Graham slowly.
Mr. Graham never was long free of fever, and just now was languid from a recent attack, yet his faith in and love for New Guinea never died out. It was his own land, much of it by right of discovery, and in it he meant to leave his bones.
"Take your place, and have our throats cut by your mad cook! not for this child."
"He is all right to-night."
"Yes, but how about this afternoon? Why, gentlemen, if I hadn't dropped by accident into the place, and separated them, you would have had the old man's head to take back as a curiosity. Sambo was busy with a chopping-axe upon his master."
It appeared that Mr. Graham's body-servant was given to what his master kindly called fits, and while these were on him his weakness consisted in murderous proclivities. He was a native of Moresby, and a favourite with his employer, who always excused these paroxysms.
"Drink up, lads, and let us go round with our invitations; we'll know, then, who are coming. Steward, tell the cook to do his best against six o'clock; and, Captain, try to comb out your hair for once."
After the glasses were empty, they all pulled ashore, and made for the mission headquarters, where Mr. and Mrs. Lang were now staying; it was a prettily situated house on the face of an eminence, overlooking the village of Elevire, with the lofty Mount Pullen rising up behind. The school-house stood close at hand, where, under their supervision, and with the assistance of South-sea teachers, over a hundred native boys and girls were learning to read and write, with such other accomplishments as the native mind could grasp.
As they passed along the beach they came upon a group of youngsters, some of very tender years, practising spear-throwing--making it a game, as our children might play with dolls.
The eldest set up a stick as a target, and they all took turns with a number of toy spears, trying to get nearest the mark, and striving to ascertain who could pitch farthest.
They observed that the elder children were very particular in making the younger ones take the correct pose of the body when aiming, also in the position of their fingers as they grasped the spear.
It was also astonishing to notice the strength and art with which they made the fling, by a peculiar motion of the wrist, without the hand seeming to move; they observed the weapon to quiver for a few seconds, then it was sent straight on its mission.
Few even of the youngest fell far short of the mark. Some of the children could not have been older than two years of age.
Going up the winding steps to the mission-house they met a couple of the teachers' wives coming down with their babies in their arms--graceful Kanaka girls, who bent their heads modestly as they passed, with their simple blue and white-spotted robes falling from their sloping shoulders, like the fashionable afternoon tea-gowns; lovely-faced women with blue-black, long straight tresses and large, tender and melancholy eyes.
Up at the house they were kindly received by the missionary and his wife, who spoke with sorrow about the tragedy at Hula, and seemed at a loss to know how to deal with the culprits.
"What they have done is no wrong according to their old creed. This particular tribe are amongst those who did not send representatives to confirm the annexing ceremony, so I don't suppose they recognize our authority or right to interfere with their private action; besides, I think they have been punished enough already. I expect we shall have to let them go in a day or two."
"Regarding Toto?"
"No one ought to regret his death, whoever caused it, for he has demoralized Hula, and yet he was one of our aptest scholars here."
"A little too apt, perhaps," responded Bowman.
They saw the school, and the children learning from the black board and listened to them singing one or two school-board songs. They were all, nearly without exception, bright, intelligent specimens of boy and girlhood, and made merry over their tasks.
"There grows the future New Guinea, gentlemen, and a prosperous future it must be if we can keep back the taste of fire-water; as yet, with the exception of Toto, no New Guinea native has taken kindly to it; they all regard it as a very nasty medicine."
They were learning to read and write at Moresby, and some had already learnt the necessity of wearing a shirt to cover themselves with, as did our first parents when they had partaken of the apple of knowledge. How long will the cocoanuts and yams content them? At present, with their one banana-tree, they are wealthy, because they have enough, but with the Western problem of progress put before them, how long will they be able to keep poverty back?
The other day I heard a school-teacher wondering which foreign mission would be the most profitable, in a Christian sense, to endow with the savings of his pupils. It was a cold, miserable day in London, and the unemployed workmen were starving to death in the streets and East-end dens by thousands. I did not like to suggest New Guinea, with its warm sunshine and utter absence of want or privation, as our English savages understand the words, simply because I had travelled through those lands.
Cannibalism is much more frightful to contemplate than starvation, when we stand back and view them both from a safe distance; but when close enough to the two evils I am inclined to lean in the matter of opinion towards starvation as the bigger horror. Murder, of course, is rampant all over the world, and not a whit more revolting as to detail in New Guinea than it is in Christian England. Starvation thrives in this land of fogs and ice, and cannibalism in that atmosphere of warmth and quick passion.
Mr. and Mrs. Lang had just returned from a visit round the coast, and reported all to be orderly and quiet where they had visited.
They all left the mission-house much impressed by the kindness of the missionary, and his evident sincerity and faith in the cause for which he and his wife had left the comforts of social intercourse and friends at home to risk their lives in the work of raising the natives of an, as yet, unwholesome country. They both appeared, like the naturalist Graham, to be much debilitated by old attacks of fever, yet, like him, hopeful, enthusiastic, and devoted to their adopted land.
Their next call was at the store, where they saw the native cook in his hammock; he was lying exhausted from his afternoon attack, and regarded them with dull, expressionless eyes.
"Some day he will polish you off," observed Brown.
"No fear of that," responded the naturalist. He had lived in such a constant atmosphere of death and violence for the past ten years that he took these incidents coolly.
As they were looking over some birds of paradise and native shields for sale, some young girls appeared at the door, looking in with mischievous faces.
"Now then, get out of that!" shouted Graham, harshly, making a rush at them, upon which they all ran away with merry bursts of laughter. "Never saw such wanton hussies!" he muttered angrily, coming back.
"The girls of Moresby are the same as all their sex; they know the old man to be a regular woman-hater, and won't leave him alone," explained Brown to the others.
"Does he always treat the women that way?" asked Danby.
"Always; that's why he can go all over the land in perfect safety; he is well known amongst the tribes, and the men can trust him anywhere with their wives and daughters."
As they left the store-house one of the twin brothers Hawley rode up on a white horse. They had lately imported a few horses to Moresby, and they were taking kindly to the land, although the natives viewed them with great awe and wonderment, and flocked out to see them whenever they passed.
"Will you join us to-night, Mr. Hawley, with your brother?" asked Brown.
"With pleasure, Mr. Brown; who are coming?"
"We are only going on the round with our invitations, and you are the second, so I am glad you can come, for Mr. and Mrs. Lang have declined, afraid to damp the party, I suppose, Mrs. Lang being the only white lady in Moresby."
"Are you going to invite any of her Majesty's men?"
"Of course."
"All right, I'll take your invite as I am going on board shortly on business."
"Thanks."
Through the village of Hanuabada they all went to the survey camp at the other end; here they met Mr. C----and his party, just come in from a hard day's work amongst the ants and underbush. Three of the surveyors were down with fever, and the others burnt almost black with the sun, and mopping their grimy wet faces and exposed chests. The leader paused before giving his consent for the night.
"Remember, boys, you must be up at four o'clock to-morrow morning, and we can't excuse headaches, now we are so short-handed."
"Let's go for an hour."
"All right, I'll come with you to see you all safe home."
Captain Mannville, like Mr. Lang, excused himself on the plea of hard work, so together they made for the steamer once more.
On board they found the old skipper and Hans, the engineer, busy washing old clothes, to make themselves respectable against the occasion. They squatted on the deck, facing one another, with a bucket of fresh water between them, scrubbing away at their greasy trousers and shirts, and helping one another to wring them out.
In the cabin the steward and seamen were hard at work hanging up old bunting and nailing croton-branches, making it as like a conservatory as they could, while the upper decks were being mopped down for the first time since leaving port.
The outside was lined with canoes and natives filling up the water--barrels, &c. They brought their supply in old rusty tanks from the native wells ashore and handed it up in buckets; slow work, but rendered a little faster by the multitude of workers. Their wages were to be a stick of tobacco per day.
"Hello! what's the matter now?" yelled out the skipper from his seat on the deck.
A sudden stoppage amongst the natives produced this query.
"They want part of their wages before they go on," replied the Irish mate.
"Holy Moses! Why, they have only done half a day's work."
"And want their half-stick of tobacco," replied the mate.
It was a strike. The skipper got up with wild gestures and loud words, but the natives stood in their canoes quietly, but obstinate, with the tank half-emptied, refusing to work without being paid for what they had done.
"There's no use bullying them," said Mr. Brown, "they have made up their minds and nothing will make them move, except yielding to their demands; your rag-tag appearance must have raised their suspicions."
The poor old persecuted skipper sat down to his washing-tub with the air of a martyr, while the steward brought out a bundle of tobacco sticks, and went about dividing it amongst them, after which they resumed their work as before.
"They will take these no trust fits occasionally," explained Brown, "and then it is the very devil if you havn't got the wherewithal to meet their demands. I remember once being left in the lurch the same way amongst the Astrolabes, because I refused to give way, thinking firmness was the best, and had to trudge back to the coast alone and leave my baggage behind."
"Jolly awkward for an explorer."
"It is one of the difficulties with which we and all future explorers will have to contend with in the discovery of this locked land. A man has more chance with his gun and alone, without provisions, than with a crowd. There is the Rev. James Chalmers, for instance; he would set out on a voyage of discovery with three oars and a single banana for provisions, trusting all the rest to Providence or good luck, and is ready any day to do a three-hundred-mile tramp up the country with only his walking-stick and a pouch of tobacco, and I'll go bail that if any man is able to cross this dark island, he is the one, with all his recklessness and happy-go-lucky want of fore-thought."
Night comes, and the guests assemble. The warsloop is represented by two junior officers, who come polite and stiff in full tropic dress, and behave themselves as if in church for the honour of the service. The days are gone by when junior officers were larky and filled with monkey tricks; they are all now good boys and well-behaved, with an eager eye after the main chances in life and a thirst to study carefully all the byeways to promotion.
The survey party came like schoolboys let loose for an hour, boisterous and much inclined for practical jokes. Their leader let them do as they liked, while the champagne circulated, but put his veto on the whisky, and told them to remember the morrow.
The Captain astonished all by appearing in a clean white shirt which he had borrowed from Hans, and looking mightily unhappy in it.
"Never thought you could look so much like a gentleman, old man," said Danby in a complimentary way, making room for the Captain beside him at the table.
The one brother Hawley came before the other, and after dinner and while Bowman was telling him something, he excused himself for a moment and went outside. While still out the other entered, dressed the same way, and sat down on the vacant seat, while Bowman continued his story.
"But I don't quite comprehend."
"You know what I was telling you when you went out just now."
At this moment the right brother entered again, saying, "I say, brother, you have taken my seat, make room. Yes, Bowman, and how did you get on?"
Bowman had made the usual mistake, for the twins were exactly alike.
It was a source of constant fun, like the "Comedy of Errors," with the two brothers, and the party was a merry one before they broke up.
The surveyors left first and much against their will, but their leader was firm--business before pleasure. "Let us get the Laroke road made and you can enjoy yourselves as much as you like," he said.
The rest sat till daybreak, at which time the steam was put on and the anchor weighed; the Captain had got rid of his uncomfortable shirt, and now was once more in his element, turning round with loud oaths in an old pair of pants and a buttonless under-flannel.
"Success to the Thunder."
The last toast is drunk, and they shake hands all round, while the steam-whistle yells out for the third time; then natives skurry back to their canoes and the shore-dwellers to their boats, as the stars are getting dim in the growing light.
And out of the bay the little Hummer puffs, in her own peculiar style, leaving the stifling huts and calm waters and silver-grey hills behind them as they steer on their adventurous course to unknown places in the west.