There no islands in the new world which have been the scene of greater adventures, more daring exploits, and more exciting times than those in the South Seas. From the earliest days New Guinea, New Britain, Solomon Islands, and the New Hebrides have been inhabited by a race of savages3, on whom neither the efforts of missionaries4 nor the oaths of traders have been able to make much impression. For years the white man has tried in vain to break the spirit of these cannibals; with fire and sword whole villages have been swept away, but neither by fear nor by kindness have the natives been weaned from their worst customs, and it will take many years and much education, and perhaps the complete extinction5 of the old generation, before they cease to be savages. For over sixty years {14} the missionaries have been working amongst them and have taught many to read, and sent them out amongst their brethren armed with Bibles and tracts6 in their native languages, but all this has been of little avail; every day we hear of massacres7 and risings, and missionaries and traders are pounced8 on and murdered, and there is no accounting9 for these outrages10 which make the problem more difficult to solve. For months or even years men may live on the friendliest terms with a tribe, and then suddenly, and for no apparent reason, the natives will rise up and slay11 them. The whim12 of a chief, an angry word, a bad bargain, a superstitious13 fear, any of these trivialities may be the cause of a rising, and may mean the death of dozens of innocent people.
But with all their disadvantages these islands have a fascination14 for the traveller that no others have, and when once the taste of the free and adventurous15 life of the South Seas has been acquired, there is always a longing16 to return to them which nothing will suppress. Neither stiff joints17 nor old age make one iota18 of difference, the yearning19 will not be satisfied by anything short of a speedy return.
OFF TO MARKET, BRITISH NEW GUINEA
The deep blue of the sea, the clear bracing20 air, {15} the screech21 of the wild sea-birds, and the roar of the surf, as it breaks on the reefs, are sounds that echo in the memory. To awaken22 and hear all these things is the longing that clings to one. To feel a good ship gliding23 through the still waters on the way to the islands; to rise from one’s bunk24 and through the port-hole to catch a glimpse of the rugged25 shores and the dark, shining skins of the natives as they paddle out in swarms26 from the villages to the ship’s side; to hear them calling to one another and yelling their greetings to the crew, are things which, when once experienced, can never be forgotten, and will ever haunt the memory.
But come, let us see these islands where the sun pours down on bright yellow sands through the long, waving, rustling27 leaves of the palm trees, and glistens28 on the skins of the crocodiles basking29 in the rivers, and on the strong, brown arms and tanned faces of the traders, who have braved all dangers for a life of adventure. Let us look into the quaint30 lives of the natives—the last relics31 of barbarism; let us see their huts and join in their weird32 ceremonies and listen to their songs and learn their superstitions33, for in a few years these things will be gone, and the cyclist and the tripper will be crowding these savage2 islands, whilst the sturdy {16} head-hunters will be dead, and their sons will be cadging34 pennies, whilst the dark, shy girls will be bold and talk with nasal accents.
Civilisation35 is coming, coming quickly. Even here, back in the dense36 bush on a still night when the insects are too lazy to fly and the silence almost speaks, if you listen you can hear the steady tramp of the ghostly army coming nearer and nearer, crushing through everything, sparing nothing—the army of civilisation.
The capital of New Guinea is Port Moresby, a quaintly37 picturesque38 village facing a large bay with a natural harbour. In the vicinity are densely39 wooded hills, which stretch up and disappear in the distance—a dark-green and black mass. But when the sun is on them they dance with colour, and the tints40 of marvellous brilliancy turn them into a lovely fairyland, full of romance and adventure. It is wonderful what strange tales flit across the mind when looking at these hills; what scenes have been enacted41 there in times gone by, and now, how calm they seem!
Granville, the small business part of Port Moresby, consists of a few corrugated42 iron-roofed houses, the head store of Messrs. Burns Philp, the great Australasian Trading Company, and the {17} homes of a few Government officials, and Government House, which lies back a little and looks solitary43 and out of place in this weird land of pile-built huts.
There is the Mission House also, a low, white wood house with a big verandah running round it and a garden of palms and beautiful flowers.
Hanuabada and Elevera are the names of the two native settlements near Port Moresby. At certain tides Elevera is an island, at other tides it is a peninsula, but at all tides and all times it teems44 with interest. Quaint huts built on long poles line the shore and look like nothing one has ever seen before. When the tide is high the water washes right under them, swishing merrily against the stout45 poles, and if you want to inspect one at these times a canoe is necessary, but even then it is a hazardous46 job unless you are used to it.
No one knows exactly why the natives went to such trouble in building their huts, unless it was with a view to protecting themselves against the attack of an enemy from the land. There were no wild animals for them to fear.
A regular street divides these rows of huts, all exactly alike, but the inhabitants seem to know where their friends live, though I am sure the most {18} experienced London postman would suffer from continual confusion if his services were required in these parts. In the distance these villages look very much like rows of haystacks built on stakes, but on closer inspection47 they are particularly interesting and have a very imposing48 appearance. On reaching the piles one clambers up a rude ladder and arrives on a platform made of ordinary poles with gaps of a foot or two between each. Here it is that the natives squat49 all day and do what work they have, or, more generally, idle the hours away. Above the platform is a kind of porch built on a slant50 and projecting from the roof, which acts as a protection against the sun or rain. Under this is an open doorway51 which leads into the house.
From a sanitary52 point of view, no habitation could be better than these pile dwellings53, but for comfort give me a modern hotel.
MOTU VILLAGE FROM THE SEA
No furniture or mats are to be seen in these dwellings to catch the dust, and you can squat on the floor and see through the planks54 the waves washing and swelling55 a few yards below. The floor consists of the same kind of piles, only flatter and broader than those used for supporting the house. The platforms are arranged like big steps, and many of the boards are beautifully carved. {19} Some of them are immense pieces of timber, which must have required a deal more energy to cut than the Papuan of to-day is capable of exerting—much less would he put them into position.
The wood used for the flooring is the hardest obtainable, and seems to be of a material which takes no heed56 of wear and tear; the planks are sometimes heirlooms, and have been handed down from father to son for many generations. One log tougher than the rest is placed in position by the door, and on this a fire will probably be burning and a woman squatting57 by it cooking her lord and master’s evening meal.
The rank yellow smoke which curls round her does not inconvenience her in the least. She takes no heed of it, but blows away at the embers, regardless of smarting eyes and choking throat, probably because she feels neither. She never fears that the fire will spread and burn down her home, but just goes on cooking. If you speak to her she may stop blowing for a second and glance up at you, but never a word passes her lips, and soon she will be blowing again as if it was quite an ordinary thing to have a white man staring at her. But though the smoke does not trouble her a bit, it blinds you, and you soon hurry on to the {20} next hut, and there confine your attention to its outside.
The roofs are thatched with palm leaves which, though scant59, keep out the rain and sun. The sides and back are also composed of a kind of thatch58 on a framework of bamboo or thin wood.
Unlike the habitations of many other branches of this race, these huts show very little artistic60 work inside. They are quite bare. A few cooking-pots may be seen lying about, and these are the only things which lead one to suppose that the huts are inhabited. The resemblance of the interiors of all of them is only equal to the sameness of the exteriors61, which makes it impossible to know which one you have been in and which you have not. This, added to the extreme difficulty a new chum experiences in getting from one house to another, does not add to the equability of his temper. It needs a steady head and good balancing powers to keep footing on these planks, many of which are quite loose and wobble when you are treading on them. After half an hour of such walking a giddiness seizes you, and a strong desire comes over you to kneel down and scramble62 along on hands and knees to the next hut. But with practice, and a certain amount of patience and indifference63 to the {21} nasty fall one would get by slipping, walking can eventually be accomplished64 with ease.
THE ISLAND OF ELEVERA FROM THE MISSION STATION, PORT MORESBY, BRITISH NEW GUINEA.
The natives themselves run along the poles as quickly as if they were on paved streets, whilst the little kiddies scramble, and slip, and tumble about as if they were on an ordinary floor. A fall through the piles is almost an unknown calamity65 to them.
Under the houses, when the tide is out, the natives can be seen cutting out their canoes, making their pottery66, repairing their fishing gear and attending to other duties; but they much prefer to loll about on the verandahs of their huts, looking out at the sea, thinking of nothing.
The whole of Elevera only covers about ten acres, but in that space the huts are crowded together, and give cover to hundreds of healthy and prosperous-looking inhabitants. On the mainland the houses are built on small pile platforms, only three or four feet from the ground, whilst others in the back country are built in trees and look like gigantic birds’-nests. This last custom, however, has quite died out, for with the introduction of the axe67 the protection of a house in a tree would be of little use, for one blow would fetch the whole construction down. Also the introduction of the police and the work of the Government have so diminished the {22} chances of tribal68 wars that the native no longer goes to such trouble. In the old days the inmates69 of these nests kept a supply of stones and spears on their verandahs, and were able to use them with great effect on their troublesome neighbours below. Now such a position would only make them good marks for a rifle shot.
The bush men, or “men belong bush,” to speak in native parlance70, are far more industrious71 than the “men belong sea,” they who live by the shore. For besides cultivating the land, growing yams, bananas, and taro72, they make a fair living by hunting.
Two distinct tribes inhabit the villages in Port Moresby, the Koitapus and Motus. They live amicably73 enough together now, but seldom intermarry. The Koitapus were undoubtedly74 the original inhabitants, and in colour are somewhat darker than their friends, and have narrower heads, otherwise it is very hard to distinguish one from the other; but in their manners, customs, and language there is a marked difference. The Motu tribe consider themselves the superior of the two, though they live in great fear of the mysterious powers the Koitapus are said to possess, and were it not for this superstition the Motus would soon overrule and probably vanquish75 the other tribe.
TREE HOUSE IN BRITISH NEW GUINEA
{23}
So strong is their superstitious belief in the powers of the Koitapus, that directly one of them falls ill, presents are immediately despatched to a Koitapu man or woman with instructions to remove the evil influence that has brought the sickness or calamity. The weather also is supposed to be in the hands of the Koitapus, and be it wet or fine the Motus have to pay up, that is if they want it changed.
As a tribe the Motus undoubtedly are superior, especially in such things as cleanliness, cooking, and eating. The Koitapu natives will devour76 almost anything with a relish77 unknown in civilised countries, but the Motu is careful and particular both about the cooking of his food and the article cooked. Most of the Motus have their eatables boiled in earthenware78 jars, whilst the Koitapu cooks his in an earth oven.
The Motus gain their living chiefly by fishing and making pottery, and they exchange both fish and pots with the Koitapu for animal food, vegetables, and the results of their agricultural pursuits.
The position of the two tribes is summed up thus:—
“Yours is the sea, the canoes, the nets,” says the Koitapu man, “ours the land and the wallaby. {24} Give us fish for our flesh, and pottery for our yarns79 and bananas.”
It is on this understanding that the two tribes live amicably together in Hanuabada and Elevera.
Altogether Port Moresby is as quaint and picturesque a spot as ever was seen. A bright blue sky and a sea the colour of which is for ever changing, a stillness only broken by the roaring surf, the hum of insects, the occasional cries of the sea-birds, and the chatter80 of the natives, make up this delightful81 haven82 of rest. No roaring train or smoking chimney is there to distract the wayfarer83; no newspaper boy yelling out his “disasters” to cause one a sleepless84 night. A spot in which to rest and dream, ay, and study the curious customs of one of the most interesting savage races in the world, if you like that sort of employment.
MOTU VILLAGE, PORT MORESBY, BRITISH NEW GUINEA
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1
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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massacres
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| 大屠杀( massacre的名词复数 )； 惨败 | |
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pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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accounting
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| n.会计，会计学，借贷对照表 | |
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outrages
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| 引起…的义愤，激怒( outrage的第三人称单数 ) | |
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slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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iota
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| n.些微，一点儿 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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swarms
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| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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glistens
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的第三人称单数 ) | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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superstitions
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| 迷信，迷信行为( superstition的名词复数 ) | |
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cadging
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| v.乞讨，乞得，索取( cadge的现在分词 ) | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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quaintly
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| adv.古怪离奇地 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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densely
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| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
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tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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corrugated
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| adj.波纹的；缩成皱纹的；波纹面的；波纹状的v.（使某物）起皱褶(corrugate的过去式和过去分词) | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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teems
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| v.充满( teem的第三人称单数 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
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hazardous
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| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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sanitary
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| adj.卫生方面的，卫生的，清洁的，卫生的 | |
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dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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exteriors
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| n.外面( exterior的名词复数 )；外貌；户外景色图 | |
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scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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pottery
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| n.陶器，陶器场 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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tribal
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| adj.部族的，种族的 | |
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inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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parlance
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| n.说法；语调 | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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taro
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| n.芋，芋头 | |
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amicably
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| adv.友善地 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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vanquish
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| v.征服，战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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77
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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78
earthenware
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| n.土器，陶器 | |
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79
yarns
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| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
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80
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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81
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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82
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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83
wayfarer
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| n.旅人 | |
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84
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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