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About Eugene register-guard. (Eugene, Or.) 1930-1983 | View Entire Issue (March 7, 1937)
I Hold' Your Heads, Boys! ' Here We G To Papua , . r Ml 1 Head-Hunter's "Evil Spirit" Chased Out " 1IT 1 I I ,ZZJ Lo"g Noses, More Like Long Beaks, and ""V "VV ;?. - j,7w y V! PtJt'-VSk the Eye-Sockets Were Filled With Clay JT V,- V&ty ffiX f - "d E" M,d " StA" Mvfy; I ' fiCXtf1V A f ft 1 At- 1 rfwPtJSS I Virtue-of Possessing the Greatest Number These Two Strange Creatures Standing Before the Lone House of the Papuans Were Photographed in the Village Where Mr. Finch Visited for a Month. By John Richard Finch Chapter 1. THROUGH the sago palma a pale crescent moon filtered in shafts of gold, lighting a ki. (or me as I walked briskly, with 111-sup- tased excitement, toward the jetty where lay sored the little missionary lugger that would rnr me across the three-hundred-mile stretch If turquoise sea from Thursday Island to Papua Ltod of head-hunters, skull cults, witch doc- n and cannibals. hpua the end of the back of beyond and Ut farther yet! This was the great adventure hid always dreamed about, and I was a little pirated with the prospect of its realization. K here it was, lying before me like a chal- fcn! The capacious, rather over-stuffed duffle K I carried seemed light as a feather, and the pil heat of the sweltering tropic night was cirotten, as I (airly flew over the dusty road, pied with shadows of palm fronds and moon-fm Mt had been with me! After a dull steamer 1 P from Sydney, I had disembarked at imday Island a week before, planning to t Into romance of pearl diving not with idea of obtaining any of the pearls myself, r. to satisfy an insatiable curiosity. I wanted : lee a pearling luetrer in nnerntinn; sec the fen work in the shark-infested waters; per- apenencc, at least vicariously, the thrill one of the more perfect stones. a three days I had accomplished mv rjur- p I had even risked an afternoon of diving p but full appreciation of the crystal clear J1"!)' of the undersea grottos was marred by f midcss that the persistent thought of f "used me. I can remember swimming "Uiy alone the bottom nt four fanthnmH ! a coral wilderness of stag Antlers and y formations like gigantic coxcombs, were tt for colonies of sea urchins and strange :J tribes darting through the cool marine m a not of extravagant shapes and Uln Wells iim. 1 -.hi,.!. aa a dciw t.,r ti, ...... ..., I. ,mH dinchvs. was kindness itself. chta him n. (1 "lW ftf atfnnn-AW T hart ff Wm to give me the fundamentals of the rartrarto .ui.u l t . . . t - -. , m,t ne naa aonc most gra-j- onorine th i.nein,.. t 1.1. V tk? thorouEhly enjoying myself unUl I one of tho hnstn nnnnfA u m had put into Dort for suonlles and aailing S0On for Papua. From that r on, 1 had but one thought to Mll on faptaln was a New Zcalander from Wel- Cai tain Taylor Tweed by name Miiimi . ung. silent men who give no itlvr, Rn,lher or not they arc being t rlunfavrahly impressed. His expres- " it e w,in nim 10 . ""L CUSlomarv. Kn rnrrlnrl nnlv Pcay nd the'r families. His cargo this 14 p0rt x7 y' c wa not So'1' t0 ( Th out to more remote 1 a , ' ?,at1lves would probably have my 103 x, 1 " 1,11 'r ixng House wunin "ler he landed me. "4 oeV? Element. I knew that he was ""VbJ . t evid,"my attempting to deter thaTv 7'" ""other scatter-brained fe v X?? tt'ndered off of some "cruise" " itri h,melf. one of the people who P toark P'ac' because some in- ttty'r" "m wiuim beckons them. I ascuV. hy: ""P1 Perhaps in the most ia of lhe l8lan. h head-hunters j t(!;7 le"t "'-civtlized, and few, iv.i. ""fniea in the shann of human rceM M4tli t0 tb"r Smeaome collec- 1 'fara. their weird rplim N-inir. hit-;: lrr)Phlea . " meir weira rencs rjein?. exoption. triumphs of the past h s. Dy hi" hesltance. I conUnued to - finally, I won him over. He Bububu, Papuan Youth Who Acted As Servant-Bodyguard to the Author. would take me to Urama, leave me there for a month and pick me up on the return voyage. He would not be responsible, however, for my safety, and warned me that the native .'ood would undoubtedly poison me, or, surviving that, I would probably die of fever if I were for tunate enough to escape decapitation. Great, I told him! When did we sail? For the first time since I had come aboard the lugger Old Poker Face grinned. "Tomorrow night with the tide," he said. I shook his hand furiously, and floated away on air. And now my lanky legs were flying over the ground toward the little lugger, appropriately named the Adventurer, in response to a mind overjoyed but impatient until I was safely on board and underway. CAPTAIN TWEED was superintending the last minute loading of supplies when I reached the Jetty. He greeted me with a brisk handshake and, taking me on board, indicated where I was to bunk. The crew, with the excep tion of Captain Tweed, was made up of native Papuans from the island village of Elevala, one of the native sections of Port Moresby. There were six muscular, ebony-skinned boys, scantily clad, with great mops of fuzzy hair. Bububu, a fine youth of perhaps 24, took an Instant liking to me, which feeling I am ashamed to say, I did not at first return, no doubt because of his unusually ferocious appearance. Bububu looked like he might sever a head without the slightest provocation and with perfect equanimity. I be lieve .the thought ran through my mind that my head might have prompted his Interest. His appearance, however, belied his character, for Bububu proved a Jewel a diamond in the rough. It was after midnight when we Anally got underway. The auxiliary motor, purring rhyth mically, propelled us out of the harbor, and then with a fair wind bellying the .Adt'cnfurcr's sails, we soon left Thursday Island astern. Over the expanse of sea to the southward lay the long tapering finger of the Australian mainland, pointing directly to my destination across tho Torres Straits. Northward was the Gulf of Papua, and, for me, promise of strange new adventures. The course of the Irfi'ciifiirer ordinarily was northeastward from Thursday Island to Bramble Cay, thence to Daru Island just off the Papuan mainland, and then to Urama, Yule Island and finally Port Moresby. However, on this trip Captain Tweed set his course straight for Urama, at which village he was to pick up two missionaries from the Interior and transport them to Yule Island where his cargo was to be unloaded. LATE afternoon of the third day, after a very pleasant but uneventful passage, we sighted the Papuan coast. The clear blueness of the sea as we approached changed to a dun color muddy and disappointing. The verdancy of the back country, a fierce war of greens, rimmed with golden beaches, captured my attention and admiration, however, as we drew near the shore. Captain Tweed explained that the unusual color of the water was due to the rivers that pour their silt-laden volumes Into the sea. To the westward he indicated where lay the village of The Author Sits on the Beach at Urama, Papua, Deciding Which of the Human Skulls and Weird Trophies to Take Back to Civilization. Goaribari, and to the eastward Kaimari, while directly ahead we were fast approaching Urama At a command from Captain Tweed, the sails were hauled in and the auxiliary started. When we were perhaps a mile from tho vil lage, three great canoes with outriggers put out from the shore. As they drew near, I saw the two missionaries in the center canoe. The other two canoes were apparently acting as escorts. Seated behind the two white men were several natives wearing headdresses of feathers and what appeared to be shells. As they came along side the yldi)e)iftircr, however, I saw that they were human teeth. I felt a little shiver run up my spine. And in a moment I would be going ashore, alone, with these these cannibals well, descendants of cannibals anyway! Was this really what I had wanted so badly? All the natives were practically naked. They wore only a brccch-cloth of batik and a few beads. The government of British Papua, admin istered by the Australian Commonwealth, strictly forbids the wearing of the white man's garb, which no doubt accounts for the remark able healthiness of the natives. They remain In their primitive state, living much the same as did their ancestors. The modes of dress vary with the tribes shells, grass sporrans, fibre skirts, and creations of beaten bark, leave alike much to the Imagination and to the mosquitoes. They were ugly, fierce-looking men, much like the aboriginals of Australia, -and not even re motely resembling the handsome South Sea Islanders. THE missionaries, tired-looking men of fifty or more, were Introduced to me by Captain Tweed and helped aboard the Adventurer. I was then presented to the villngc chief, whom I later learned held this Important post because he Inherited from his ancestors more human skulls than any other man in the village. Cap tain Tweed, who spoke the dialect, told him I was coming ashore to be a guest at the village for a month. The chief seemed very pleased. He nodded his head vigorously, and motioned me Into the boat. My bag was handed over the side and I had duly thanked Captain Tweed, and said good-bye all around, when I felt a hand on my shoulder and looking up saw Bu bubu. In his other hand was a batik containing his few belongings. He was coming with me! 1 was touched. I looked questloningly at Captain Tweed. "It's all right," he said. "I can spare him, and you'll need an Interpreter and someone to look after you. I've told him to bury you In the white man's fashion If you don't survive. I'll be back here In a month and, if you're still all together, I'll take you back to Thursday Island. Try and keep your head." That was Captain Tweed's parting remark. A moment later the Adventurer was nosing out of the little bay and I was being propelled shore ward In the Urama chieftain's canoe. Bububu sat Just behind me and there was a comforting feeling about his proximity, t was glad that be was with me. The first objects that attracted my attention aa we neared the beach were small groups of skulls Impaled on posts faclne the water. The gruesome relics were tastefully decorated by a ruffle of palm leaves rolled Into scrolls at tho end, which maintained a shivering movement in the breeze. The skulls were provided with very long noses, more like long beaks, and the eye sockets were filled with clay and eyes made from small red seeds, They were painted with raddle, and were Indeed grinning caricatures of death. It seemed to me that every male member of the village was on the beach to meet us. It was an occasion Indeed for them. They had Just seen two white men off and were now welcoming another into their midst. Lead by the Chief, whose name I soon learned was Gomari, and followed by the men who pressed in closely about us, we entered the village. The women - and children scampered to the houses to peak Inquisitively from doorways and through tho openings between the bamboo walls. Stopping before one of the houses the chief spoke a few words to Bububu which he translated Into, "House belongs to white man." I climbed the crude laddcrway to the stilted hut, to find my self on the threshold of a fairly livable room. Unusually fine batika hung on the walls, and a heavy woven mat covered the floor. This would do nicely. I motioned for Bububu to deposit my bag on the floor, and told him to offer my sin cere thanks to the chief for his hospitality. Night was falling, and a strange unfamiliar smell was in the air, which I presumed was the effluvium of the evening meal. I wondered how I would fare, remembering Captain Tweed's warning about the food. I was to be pleasantly surprised, however, for, evidently conversant with tho Idiosyncrasies of the white man, Bu bubu brought me a repast of tasty fish, yams baked In clay, a porridge made of sago, cool coconut milk, and an assortment of fruits. With a month before me to explore the village and surrounding country, I decided to turn In early. I was a little tired from the Journey across from Thursday Island. 80, shortly nfter completing my evening meal, I lay back on the matted floor and was soon asleep. I WAS awakened by the dull booming of a drum. Sitting up, I struck a match and looked at my watch. It was only eleven o'clock. Bu bubu was nowhere in sight, and rising to my feet I went to the door and looked out Into the village. A great fire was burning and excited natives were running back and forth before the blaze. A man, whom I took to be a witch-doctor from his horribly painted body and weird head dress, was screaming at the top of his voice and jumping wildly Into the air. Women and children were among the men now almost the first I had seen In the open since my arrival. All were wildly excited, and tho booming of the drum seemed momentarily to swell In weird crescendo. Bububu, just outside the hut, catch ing sight of me In the doorway, came running toward me. It seemed that one of the villager! was possessed by an evil spirit. He lay on the ground in front of the Are clasping his stomach, apparently Insane with pain. The entire village was In mortal terror of their lives for, should the stricken man die, his spirit would return to torment the village and claim further victims, they believed. So long as the drum boomed, the evil spirit was held captive In the body, aud ' was Impotent Now and again women snatched up blazing flrestlcks and rushed screaming at the invisible terror. The witch-doctor beat the man with a frayed and knotted batik, wet with the blood of a boar, in an effort to drive out the evil spirit. The poor man would surely die if this sense less ceremony was kept up, I thought. From his contortions, I drew that he was suffering from gripping cramps and stomach pains, possibly a touch of poisoning. An Idea came to me. It was foolhardy that I should Interfere, but I couldn't see tho poor devil suffer perhaps die. I'd probably get myself in bad, but at least I'd be doing more to relieve the man's suffering than the fanatic witch-doctor. I returned to the hut, and, searching In my bag, found a tin of flash powder for Instan taneous night photography. Tearing one of the smaller batiks from the wall, I poured a gener ous quantity of the powder Into the cloth and wrapped It up securely. Bububu watched spell bound. "Go and tell them the white man will drive away the evil spirit," I told him. He hesitated. "Go on, tell them," I Insisted, Without a word, he leaped to the ground and ran down Into the circle of screaming natives. PRESENTLY I saw C'llcf Gomari waving hie arms, apparently asking for silence. He be gan to speak and when he had finished, Bububu started back toward my hut. All eyes were turned toward me. The witch-doctor stood men acingly before the fire. Obviously, ho did not approve. There was a complete silence, except for tho booming of the drums. The chief had assented, Bububu told me. For a moment I felt my confidence ebbing, then, the thought of the tormented native returned to me, and squaring my shoulders, I marched solemnly down to the gathering to the very brink of the fire carrying the rolled bafik In the palms of my two handB, extended In front of me. As I recall that night now, I sometimes won der what was going on In tho minds of the people. Hore was a strange white man, Indeed, one who preached not the gospel of the Christian God, but, like their own witch-doctor, used charms. When I felt that the villagers were properly Impressed and the correct clement of suspense gained, I tossed tho batik Into the flames, and, turning quickly, walked briskly away. Every eye In the village watched the flame slowly consume the batik. At a safe distance, I turned Just In time to see a blinding flash as the powder ignited, fol lowed by a thundering report It was as though a star-shell had exploded In their midst. Like rockets, the flrestlcks traced a fiery flight; cin ders flew In a flaming cloud, and a terrorized yell went up with a simultaneous scattering of frightened natives. The drum censed, aban doned by the drummer. The witch-doctor took to his heels with the rest. Bububu, himself frightened, crouched at my feet. THE time to act had arrived. Motioning Bu bubu to follow me, I ran down to where the sick man lay, now unconscious from pain and fright. Lifting him, we carried the Papuan to my hut. He had no fever, his pulse was only a trifle above normal. I'd have to take a chance. From my bag I took a bottle of castor oil, and, with Bububu's aid, poured a generous helping between his lips. The villager were cautiously approaching my hut. Summoning Gomari, I had the man cnrrlcd to his own hut, and, in lieu of a hot water bottle, had Bububu heat some stones, wrapped them In batik and lay them on the man's stomach. This was all I could do, and It was not until that moment that I realized what might bo the consequences If the man should die. But luck again was with me, and in a few hours he had Improved. By the next dav he was as well as ever, and I became from that day the Dlmdlm Purlpurl or White Man Sorcerer. I had driven out the evil spirits and thereby earned the undying friendship of all the villagers all except the witch-doctor who, I later learned, tried to pray me to death. CopTtiaM, I9J7 (To be continued) 94rS THflt
