Our People Seemed To Be Quite Enjoying Themselves, Looting The
Houses, And One Of The Police Was Chasing A Pig In This Village,
When He Was Attacked By A Man With A Club.
The policeman was unarmed,
but immediately wrenched the club from the man's hand and smashed his
skull in, and the body lay barely one hundred yards from our tent.
This
was too tantalizing for our carriers, who came up and begged permission
to eat it, although they knew full well that Monckton had given orders
that there was to be no cannibalism among them. Needless to remark,
the request was refused, but they had the pluck to ask again before
the expedition was over.
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.
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