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