And had a wider
experience of the cannibals than any man living.
This tribe (as has already been mentioned), when they capture a
prisoner, tie him to a post, keep him alive for days, and meanwhile
feed on him slowly by cutting out pieces of flesh, and prevent his
bleeding to death with a special preparation of their own concoction,
and finally, when he is nearly dead, they make a hole in the side of
the head and feed on the hot fresh brains.
Both Acland and I myself fully agreed with Monckton, as we were not
by any means grateful to the Doboduras for giving us the worst fright
of our lives. We had, it is true, killed a good many of them, but we
recognised the fact that our force was insufficient to hold its own,
much less to punish these brutal tribesmen. So we determined to journey
up north and get help from the magistrate of the Northern Division
on the Mambare River, before returning to the Dobodura country.
That evening four Notu chiefs came into camp to thank us for killing
their enemies, and they brought with them presents of dogs' teeth and
shell necklaces, and seemed greatly excited, all talking at once,
each trying to out-talk his fellows, and wagged their heads at us
in turn. We left very early the next morning in our whaleboat for
the Kumusi River, but left all our carriers and stores with most of
the police behind in one of the Notu villages to await our return,
as we now felt sure that we could trust the Notu tribe.
It was a hot and uneventful voyage. A fish which looked like an
enormous sole, but which was larger than the whaleboat, jumped high in
the air not many yards away. Toward evening we arrived opposite the
bar of the Kumusi River, and we had a very uncomfortable few minutes
getting through the breakers into the river, for if we had been
upset we should soon have become food for the sharks and crocodiles,
which literally swarmed here. We got through the worst part safely,
but then stuck fast on a small sand-bank, and one or two good-sized
breakers half-filled the boat; but we all jumped out and hauled her
off the sand into the deep, calm waters beyond.
After rowing up the river a short distance, we landed at a spot
where there was a trader's store, looked after by an Australian
named Owen. From here miners go up the river to the gold fields in
the Yodda Valley, and cutters are constantly putting in at this store
with miners and provisions.
This district has the reputation of being one of the most unhealthy
spots in New Guinea, and the natives round here are none too friendly,
and hate the government and their police, so that during the last
three years, three or four resident magistrates in the locality have
either been murdered or have died of fever.
