MY DEVOURED FRIEND.
A TBAVSLLER'S TALK WITH THE CANNIBAL WHO ATE BIS CHUM. A South Sea Island Tale. " Who are these people who arrived this morning ?" I asked of my companion, an English naval officer, as we stood one bright September morning on the beach before the little settlement of Port Moresby, in New Guinea. "Oh, they have come from Booker Island, some way north of this," was the reply. Booker island ! What was there in that name to make me start and the warm blood mount to my temples ? Those who wished to know may learn from the following narrative :— Of all the men I knew at Oxford I can recall no cheerier companion or more openhearted friend than W . He did not belong to the same college as myself, but that did not prevent my seeing a great deal of him. It used to be a matter of chaff that W belonged to no college in particular, his acquaintance in the university was so varied and his popularity so universal. He differed much from the ordinary run of undergraduates in that he had travelled pretty nearly over the whole world, having served for eight years as a midshipman in the Royal Navy. _ He had seen some sharp lighting with .pirates in the China seas, and had spent some years cruising among the islands of the South Pacific. His description of the tropic luxuriance of the South Pacific islands made many of us long to " pitch Greek to the old Harry " and start for those abodes of bliss. : :At the time I speak of he was twentysix years of age, in height barely five feot nine inches, his figure lithe and active. His features were more pleasing than handsome, 1 his hair very fair and curly. He wore a full beard and moustache, the former cropped short in Vandyck fashion, His great charm, I think, lay in his eyes, whicn were of the brightest blue. There was something so fresh and honest in then expression that you felt drawn to him ai once. In addition to other accomplishments he was a skiltul musician, playing both the piano and violin very well. The rooms in which he lodged in High-street were a veritable museum. Dyak shields, Malay creases, Australian boomerangs covered the walls. One very precious relic was a piece ol bark cloth about six inches square embroidered with beads. This, W used to tell us, was the ball dress of a Fijiar. princess with whom he had danced a< Levuka, and on whom he had made such ar impression that she took it off and presented it to him. Coming into these rooms one morning toward the close of the summei term I found my chum poring over Wallace's narrative of search after birds of paradise, " I'll tell you what it is, old chap," he said. " if I don't get through my examinatian this term I shall chuck up Latin and Greek and go off and explore New Guinea. Won't you come with me?" "I wish I could," Ire plied, " but it will take me another year tc get my degree, and till then I can't leave England for any time." We had a long talk over New Guinea, then, as now, almost a terra incognita. Off to New Guinea. The examination took place, and pooi \y.x__. W as plucked, or in other words failed to pass, and a month later we started for Norway, to explore the beauties of the land of the midnight sun. It was during this tour that W finally decided nol to return to Oxford, but instead to carrj out his project of exploring New Guinea His idea was to proceed on the line* adopted by Rajah Brooke in Borneo, .fa endeavour to obtain the confidenco of th< coast people by opening up trade witl them, and after a time induce them to ac company him into the interior. Tim* was of no object to him, and I re member him saying that he ehoulc consider himself exceptionally lucky i: he succeeded in crossing the island ir three years. On our return from Nor way he set to work making preparations foi his departure, and in November he started for Australia. He came up to Oxford for i couple of days to say good-bye to his ole friends. *We gave him a farewell dinner, ai which, in returning thanks for his health he promised to send each and all of us what ever tropical products we might wish for The most of us asked for princesses, and hi promised to send a ship-load as soon as hi arrived there. Well, he started, and thi next I heard from him was some six month later, when I received a letter from hin dated Cooktown, Northern Queensland He said he had bought a small steamer suited for coast and river work, and that hi was going to commence trading on the Ne\ Guinea • coast at once. He was going t work his little boat himself, with a crew o three Kanakas and a Chinaman cook. H wrote in the best of spirits, and was full o enthusiasm for his prospects. A few months after the receipt of thi letter I started myself for Australia to tak part in an expedition which was bein{ organised for the purpose of exploring th country lying between the Diamantiu river and Port Darwin. Before leavinj England I wrote to W , telling him o my proposed journey, and asking him t meet me, if possible, in Rockhampton. I seemed as though the hope so often indulge! in during our college days was about to b realised, and I had firmly resolved to joii my friend in his New Guinea venture on th termination of my work in Queensland Alas, for the fallacy of human hopes! Oi my arrival at Sydney I received the sa< intelligence.that W had been murderei and eaten by cannibals on Booker Island The news of the massacre had reached Aus tralia by means of the little missipnar; steamer Ellangowan. Whilst visitinj the mission stations on the Ne\ Guinea coast the captain of -■ th Ellangowan was informed of thi massacre of a white man and his com panions on one of the small islands off thi coast. He at once proceeded to the islanc indicated, but the attitude of the native; was so hostile that he did not even dan anchor, much less attempt to land. H< proceeded to Cooktown and reported th< story, and Admiral Wilson despatchec H.M.S. Cormorant to make inquiries, anc if possible punish the murderers. On ar rival the Cormorant found the island com pletely deserted. A party of blue-jaoketi were landed, and the village, which con sisted of some forty huts, was carefullj searched. In one of the huts they found W 's binoculars and sextant, and ie another were ' some of the cabin fittings. The island, which was only some seven milee in circumference, was carefully searched, and in a feitch-housewere founda quantity of human. bones, which had evidently been submitted to the action of fire. These were carefully buried. The village was then burnt, and the cocoanut and banana trees cut down, so as to render the island uninhabitable for some time to come. The Story of the Massacre. A visit was then paid to the mainland, and from some friendly natives the following story was learned : W had visited them on his way to Booker Island, had opened up friendly communications with them, and had promised to return and buy a large stock of India rubber which they had on hand. He then departed for Booker Island, and a few days later, news reached the mainland of this murder. It appears that when he anchored off the island the Chief Tanue came off to the steamboat and exhibited the greatest friendship for him. Presents were exchanged an d W—— was invited to attend a dance on shore in the evening in his honour. Accordingly afc euneefc He landed at the
village, accompanied by one of his Kanaka crew, and was escorted to the chief's house. Here the kava bowls had been set out and every preparation made for a big festival. In the meantime two canoe-load 3of warriors had been despatched to the steamer, and the crew, consisting of two Kanakas and the Chinaman cook, seized. W heard the commotion on board the boat arid ran out of the chief's hut to see what it was all about. Suspecting treachery he made for the beach, but was followed by a volley of arrows and fell mortally wounded. His companions were then brought ashore and murdered, and a great cannibal feast was held, which lasted several days. When the mission steamer Ellangowan arrived off the island some days later, Tanue naturally supposed it had come to avenge the murder. As soon as she had departed he and his people, who numbered in all some forty souls, evacuated the island arid, landing on the mainland, made off into the interior. The island, it appears, is only inhabited for a few months during the year; when the beche de mer fishing is being carried on. Hence its deserted state when visited by H.M.S. Cormorant. Meeting the Murderers. It was twelve months after the date of the above tragedy that the conversation with which this narrative opens was held. I had in the meantime crossed Australia from Rockhampton to Port Darwin, and was now on my way back to Sydney in one of the small men-of-war schooners which the English Government keeps for doing police duty in the South Seas. We had put into Port Moresby to communicate with the missionaries stationed there. The men who had attracted my attention were a party of fifteen tall, well-armed savagee I had met marching through the village on my way down to the beach. Their curious headdresses and their lighter colours showed that they were from a distance, and I wondered on seeing them whether I might not be able to gain from them some information about the interior of New Guinea. Imagine, then, my surprise when my friend informed me that they hailed from Booker Island. Here was a chance to gain further information of my old chum's fate. Here possibly was a chance of arresting some of the actors in that dismal tragedy! I at once despatched one of the mission interpreters after the men and told him to promise them good rewards if they would come and hold a palaver with the white men. He returned in about a couple of hours with word that they camped about three miles from the settlement, and would be glad to talk to us if wo would go out to them. My friend was against my going, but I assured him that they would not attempt any treachery with the schooner lying in the harbour, and it was at last arranged that I should go by myself, with two of the mission boys to interpret. A walk of about an hour through the jungle brought me to a small etream, where I found the men camped and buey cooking their mid-day meal. A tall man, with his hair done up in a wonderful chignon, advanced to meet me and informed me that his name was Balava and that he was the leader of the party. They came from the North, he said, and were on their way to visit a powerful chief in the mountains called Njah. He then asked if I belonged to the war-ship he had seen in the harbour, and on my interpretor explaining that I was only a passenger on board her, he seemed relieved. I was then offered a seat in their midst and the conversation became general. Upon my asking if any of them knew the Chief Tanue they seemed embarrassed, but at last Balava volunteered the information that he was a very bad man. I told Balava that I was aware of that fact, and that he killed a white chief, and that I wished for any information he could give me on the subject. Balava was Tanue. Balava told me that his people, though betetigingr ib the same tribe as Tanue, did not go to the islands to fish, but remained always on the mainland. He had heard, he said, of the white chief with the " smokeboat" who had attacked the people at Booker Island, wanting to steal them away; also, he had heard of the warship which had destroyed the houses and cut down the trees. I told him that I knew the whole story, and that the white chief had not gone to kidnap, but to trade peaceably with the people of Booker Island, and that they had murdered and eaten him. At this there was considerable merriment, and one of them volunteered the statement that white men are very good food. I asked if any of them had seen any of my friend's things, and one of them described a long knife which I knew to be the midshipman's dirk I had last seen hanging in W—'s room at Oxford. I asked him if he could procure it for me and he said it was away in the mountains of Tanue's village. I noticed that at every allusion to Tanue there was a sort of suppressed laughter, as though the very mention of his name was a huge joke. At length the men began to collect their bundles and prepare to start again on their journey. I told them that anything belonging to the white face murdered at Booker Island would be readily redeemed by me at more than its value, and 1 begged them to do their utmost to procure any relics for me and forward them to the mission station on the coast. They promised to do so, and then Balava, coming up to me, took me by the hand and said : " Tanue, he very bad man. Tanue, he eat your brother. When I see Tanue ] shall say I have seen, the brother of the white chief you have eaten." We said adieu, and started back to the shore, but we had not gone a couple of hundred yards before we heard a great shouting and the beating of spears on the shields, which betokens war in the South Seas. I instinctively drew my revolver and turned round. What a sighfc met my gaze ! The men I had left so peaceably a minute or two sbefore seemed transformed to maniacs. They had formed a circle round and were dancing and brandishing their spears, all the time crying out at the -top of their voices: "Balava, he is Tanue ; Balava, he is Tanue !" I asked my interpreters what the shouting meant. They told me. For a second I hesitated as to whether I should rush forward and lodge the contents of my revolver in Tanue's breast. The two interpreters, however, seized hold of me and implored me to hasten back to the shore, and I felt I had no right to risk their lives in addition to my own. Had I interfered it would have been certain death, as the savages were all well armed, so reluctantly I turned my back on them and returned to the sea. At sundown we set sail, a nice breeze having set in, and that is how I came to have a " chat with a friend's grave." Lawbence Goodrich.
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Auckland Star, Volume XIX, Issue 23, 28 January 1888, Page 4 (Supplement)
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2,581MY DEVOURED FRIEND. Auckland Star, Volume XIX, Issue 23, 28 January 1888, Page 4 (Supplement)
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