On my return to Cape Nelson, I found that Oelrichs had recovered, and had made a start with his new duties; he had begun them very vigorously too; for, as we sat at lunch on board the Merrie England while she steamed in for the harbour, an officer ran down to report that my whaler was chasing a lugger, and after that lugger the steamer accordingly went. When caught, she proved to be full of villainous-looking Frenchmen, probably escapees from New Caledonia; they had landed at Cape Nelson for water and vegetables, and Oelrichs, having his suspicions of them, had requested them to await the arrival of the Merrie England, whose smoke was then on the horizon. They had, however, seized a favourable opportunity and bolted. They said they were bound round New Guinea for Singapore; so we got rid of them by towing them up, and turning them adrift well within the German Frontier, for which gift I trust the Kaiser’s subjects were duly grateful.

Shortly after my return I received a complaint from the Arifamu, a tribe living to the north of my Station, that they had been raided, and some of their people killed, by a strange tribe from the north; so, taking a dozen constabulary and my whaler, I set off in search of the raiders. I found them all right; or rather, to their sorrow, they found me! One night we landed and camped at the mouth of a small river, the Barigi, quite in ignorance of the fact that the country near-by was inhabited, and that by the very people we were after. My camp was surrounded on three sides by an impenetrable swamp, and upon the fourth by a smooth strip of beach, which fronted the river; upon this strip I posted a sentry. Late at night, my corporal woke me up and said, “Bia [the sentry] says that there are canoes approaching, which will not reply to his challenge.” I jumped up and grabbed my rifle, while the corporal alarmed the men, and ran down to the sentry who, just as I got up to him, again sharply challenged: “Who goes? Stop or I fire!” Suddenly, close into the beach there shot a canoe, the men in which were paddling standing up, fully armed and plumed for war; while behind it, again, we heard the splash of other paddles. “Fire, Bia!” I said, as I drove a bullet through the steersman and started to empty the magazine of my rifle into the canoes. Corporal Barigi ran up to me and began firing at the still advancing canoes, followed almost immediately by the remaining police, who sent a crashing volley into the first canoe, which fairly emptied it of all but one man, and it drifted away with the current; the sound of retreating paddles was now heard, and we were not again disturbed until just before dawn, when I was again aroused to listen to a strange splashing and snorting. We then lay on our arms on the beach until day broke, when we found that the sound was caused by crocodiles worrying the bodies of the killed, and tearing them away from each other’s jaws. We made things extremely interesting for those crocodiles for a few minutes, and then sat down to wonder why we had been so suddenly and viciously attacked during the night by the natives.

Paddling slowly up the river after breakfast, we heard a slight sound in the mangrove swamp on one side, and on investigating, the police captured a man with his hand badly shattered with a bullet; I dressed and bandaged the wound, pending our return to the Station, when I could amputate it. We then found out that the attack upon us was a mistake on the part of the natives: it appeared that some distance up the river there lived a tribe, an offshoot of the Baruga, under a chief named Oiogoba Sara, a mighty fighting man; these people had recently raided the Arifamu, and were full of pride at their exploit. My camp fire had been seen by a prowling canoe, which had reported it to Oiogoba Sara, who had concluded that it belonged to a small travelling fishing party of Kaili Kaili or Arifamu, and had dispatched two canoes, with instructions to rush the camp and slay every one in it.

“It was most kind and considerate of Mr. Oiogoba Sara to call upon us so soon after our arrival,” I said to the police; “I think we will return the compliment by taking him to Cape Nelson for a few months.” So inland, in search of Oiogoba Sara and his village, we accordingly went; eventually we discovered the village quite unperceived by the villagers. The wailing of women showed clearly, as we crept up, that the reverse of the night before was already known. Oiogoba was keeping no watch, and before he knew what was upon him, we were in his village and he was seized by two police, from whom he at once broke away and seized his club; some of his people fled immediately, others began to put up a fight to rescue him, but, upon two being killed and others wounded, they broke and fled. Oiogoba was an enormously powerful man and fought like a veritable tiger. “Take him alive,” I yelled at the police, as they dodged his club and made repeated attempts to spring upon his back. Oiogoba, charging like a wild boar, broke through the circle and leapt into the river, which was about up to his waist, hotly followed by the police; one private dived and grabbed him by the ankles, whereupon Oiogoba tried to get at him with his club, but another private sprang in and caught him on the club arm with the butt of his rifle, smashing that member; a few seconds then saw Oiogoba pulled down and secured.

I set his arm in splints, and then said, “What do you mean, you old scoundrel, by killing the Arifamu, who are my people, and attacking my camp?” “I did not know the Arifamu were your people, I know nothing about you; if I had known, I certainly should not have been fool enough to interfere with you,” he said. “What are you going to do with me? Kill and eat me?” “No. Take you home with me, mend your arm, and teach you the ways of the Government; then return you to govern your district for the Government. You are a strong brave man like Bushimai of the Mambare.” “I have heard of Bushimai,” said old Oiogoba Sara; “is he one of your people?” “Yes,” I answered; “the man who held your arm, while I tied it up, is his son.” I kept him for some months at Cape Nelson, and then returned him to his tribe as Government chief, and he proved a very useful man.

Complaint was often made in New Guinea that the Government recruited its constabulary and village constables from the gaols. This was true in many instances; but it must be remembered that many of the prisoners were not criminals in the European sense of the word, they were merely men of strong personality, like Oiogoba Sara, who had found their way to gaol from simply following the ancient customs of their people, and were quite ignorant of any feeling of wrongdoing; and such men almost invariably proved the best servants of the Government, for they brought their already existing authority among their people to aid them in enforcing their newly conferred strange authority from Government. The result was, that a strange tribe of raw savages could frequently be brought into a state of law and order, without their perceiving the real change that was being effected, and without undue disturbance of the tribal or communal life.

The village constable and Government chief system in New Guinea had been originated by that very wise man, Sir William MacGregor, with the assistance and advice of Sir Francis Winter; it was a splendid thing, for by it one was enabled to make the people govern themselves, and that without their feeling that any undue restriction or coercion had been used. I think after the departure of Sir William, I was the sole man in the country who really realized the value and potentialities for good work of this service, and also utilized it to its fullest extent; and it always seemed to me ten thousand pities that this was so, and that it had not been developed to its uttermost limits. Only a brilliant brain such as that of Sir William MacGregor, or Sir Francis Winter, could have originated the scheme. Let me take an example: assuming a murder, or any serious crime, had taken place in a village of raw natives without a village constable or Government chief, and I heard of it; then, the arrest of the offender would be made by constabulary—strange armed men—and the whole community would be alarmed; the women, children and witnesses would all fly for the bush, and regard the whole matter in the light of a hostile raid by a foreign enemy. Take the same village and the same offence with a village constable or Government chief firmly established; then, upon the offence being reported, it was only “old so-and-so,” whom the villagers knew well, who donned his uniform and, accompanied by the elders of the village, seized the offender and hauled him forth for judgment; and this without in the slightest degree disturbing the village life or alarming the uninvolved people. The difference, to draw a parallel, was simply this: supposing some English villagers saw one of their number seized by a patrol of Russian or German soldiers,A they would be alarmed and indignant; but if they saw him collared by their own local bobby, they would not bother their heads further than to gossip.

In weak villages, the village constable gave the villagers a sense of protection, for he was a constant reminder that a force existed able to protect them from their enemies, with which he was intimately connected; whilst in strong and turbulent villages, his presence was a constant reminder of a watching Government, and therefore a deterrent to crime. They were not without their faults and drawbacks, of course, but no people are, unless kept under constant supervision; their main fault was to levy blackmail. The natives, however, very soon learnt what their constable’s powers were, and then would lose no time in reporting any abuse of them. In the North-Eastern Division, I had the younger village constables drilled, and they formed an excellent reserve for the constabulary.

In the Northern Division, in later years, I had in one instance a woman as village constable; she had a very masterful personality and had ruled her village before the advent of the Government. She did splendid work and only once gave me trouble, and that was when she summarily divorced her husband; he was rather glad than otherwise, as the position of consort to the official lady was not altogether a bed of roses. But then she picked out a fine-looking young man of her village, about ten years younger than herself, and ordered him to marry her. He was struck with consternation at the prospect, and bolted for an adjoining village; she pursued him, and ran him in upon the charge of disobeying the village constable. Two other village constables near-by were scandalized at the affair; they ran in the pair and brought them before me, when, in answer to my inquiries, the lady official stated her grievance. “Why won’t you marry her?” I asked the man. “It seems the best way to settle the matter.” “I’d sooner go to gaol,” he said briefly. “Well, I am blessed if I see any way out of it,” I said; “if you return to your village, I believe she will marry you sooner or later. Wanting to marry you is not a crime.” “Can I enlist in the Armed Constabulary?” he asked; “I should be safe there.” “Yes, that will be the best; I’ll send you to Cape Nelson.” “Are you not going to make him marry me?” asked the redoubtable dame. I shook my head. “Then I suppose I’ll have to take so-and-so back again,” she remarked, naming her recently divorced husband; which I may mention she finally did.

I have mentioned crocodiles tearing at the bodies of the dead in the mouth of the Barigi River. In New Guinea there appear to be two different species of the brute, for in some rivers they are small and innocuous, while in others they are large and of extreme ferocity; the latter species I have known to attack and take a man out of a canoe—Crocodilus porosus I believe the reptile is named. On another occasion one of the beasts, sleeping partly submerged in the mouth of the Vanapa River, was struck by the prow of the Ruby launch, and promptly came open-mouthed after her; and yet another time one rose out of the sea in Buna Bay and nearly grabbed one of the crew of the lugger Peuliuli, whilst he was painting the vessel’s side. This particular species is equally at home in either salt water or fresh; it ranges from China to Persia, and south to New Guinea and the Solomon Islands. Dr. Gray, in his “Catalogue of the Crocodilia,” refers to this particular reptile as “the salt-water crocodile”; but I have found the Crocodilus porosus in fresh-water streams in New Guinea, miles inland, and just as savage and dangerous as in the mouths of tidal rivers.

On one occasion, in order to cross a flooded stream at the head of the Kumusi River, my men felled an enormous tree, which fell with a resounding splash into the water, sufficient, one would think, to scare away every reptile within half a mile. Hardly had the sound ceased and the splash subsided, before a private of the constabulary was running across the tree trunk, which was a few inches under the surface of the water; before he could reach the other side, a crocodile arose and made a grab at him, catching him by the red sash about his waist; fortunately, however, the man managed to slip off his sash, and then tore across the tree, while the crocodile disappeared under the surface with the sash. I have been told by the Mambare natives that the brute has a trick, if any person unwarily stands on the edge of a muddy river, of swimming rapidly past and knocking that person into the river with a blow from its powerful tail, after which it disposes of its victim at its leisure. The brute makes a sort of nest and lays its eggs in marshy jungles, which occur on the banks of rivers, and I have found them a hundred miles from salt water.

Some of the ancients among the crocodiles get marvellously cunning: there was one beast of my acquaintance that inhabited a deep pool in a small stream at Wanigela in Collingwood Bay, and he was a great thorn in the flesh of the villagers; for, watch as they would, they could never see him in daylight, whilst pigs and people disappeared at night with unpleasant frequency, and in the morning, no more was to be seen than the trail of his tail and claws. The villagers sent me complaint after complaint about the beast, alleging that it was a devil and no real crocodile. I sent the police to watch for it, but they did no better than the natives. At last the people complained that they did not think much of a Government that could not rid them of such a pest; and I became really annoyed with the crocodile. “Kill a pig, a fat pig, and let it go rotten,” I advised the villagers, “then I will come and deal with the brute.”

I went to Wanigela in about a week’s time; the pig was really high by then and a choice morsel for a crocodile. On to that pig’s corpse I tied about a pound of dynamite, with a yard of fuse attached; then, pulling the whaler into the middle of the hole the beast was supposed to inhabit, I lit the fuse and chucked the pig over the side. We had an exciting time then, for piggy was too far gone to sink and began to drift on the surface towards the houses in the village, where all the inhabitants were assembled to watch our operations; hastily we chased the carrion and tore off the burning fuse; then we got a number of large stones and weighted piggy well, before tilting him over the side again; he sank this time, and we hurriedly vacated the spot. I had fixed a five-minute fuse, time sufficient, I thought, for the crocodile to discover the delicious morsel we had sent him: soon came the explosion, and a few seconds later, out crawled on to the sand-bank an enormous old crocodile, only to be greeted with a veritable hail of bullets, spears and curses, whereupon he flopped back once more into his uncomfortable domicile. “I don’t think he will trouble you again,” I told the Wanigela people, and went off home. The next day they sent and told me that they had found the crocodile’s body and were eating it; I thought that eating your enemy after having destroyed him was certainly the most complete revenge possible. Afterwards I saw the jaw bones, and, to my amazement, discovered that some of the teeth were decayed; I then thanked my stars that I had not the teeth of a crocodile in which to have toothache, for it seemed too awful to contemplate altogether!

Again I find I have digressed; the subject of village constables was always a weakness of mine, and the crocodiles seem to have crept in, just in the same manner as they sneak into villages. Return I now to Oiogoba Sara. This old chief gave me much information about the geography of his district, and the relations of one tribe with another; he also told me a marvellous tale of a strange aquatic tribe inhabiting a huge morass, not more than half a dozen miles from his principal village, who, he declared, were unable to walk on hard dry country. At first I did not believe him, but he stuck to his story, and Giwi of the Kaili Kaili told me that he had often heard rumours to the same effect; accordingly I determined to investigate the truth for myself.

Some time after, about September, 1902, old Oiogoba Sara was released from gaol and returned to his village as Government chief; and just then two friends of mine, L.G. Dyke Acland and Wilfred Walker, arrived on a visit to me. They were both men who were fond of shoving their noses into the little-known parts of the globe: Walker had a mania for collecting strange birds, and had been everywhere on the earth in search of them; Acland possessed a mercurial disposition that led him into all sorts of trouble, from fighting in South Africa and prowling in Siberia, to eventually—after he left me—tiger hunting in India, where he succeeded in getting very thoroughly chewed up by a tiger, and losing an arm. I told them I had little to offer in the way of amusement or sport, but that if they chose to accompany me, I was going in search of a very strange aquatic tribe I had heard of, and then on to a fight with a lot of raiding cannibals. The former appealed to Walker, the latter to Acland; therefore they both decided to come with me.

The people, of whom we were going in search, were styled by Oiogoba Sara, “Agai Ambu”: “Ambu” is the Binandere word for man, “Agai” for duck; therefore the translation of the name “Agai Ambu,” which was used generally among the tribes, is the “duck- or web-footed people.” We went to old Oiogoba’s village on the Barigi River, this time in friendly fashion, and were warmly welcomed. The old chief insisted, much to my disgust, upon his wives cooking my food, and the village women, that of my police; the constabulary got on all right, but Acland, Walker, and I preferred a frugal meal of sardines and biscuits to the feast prepared for us of fat pork and stewed dog! Leaving old Oiogoba’s village, we were guided by him in a westerly direction towards the Musa River and the morass alleged to be inhabited by the strange people.

As we receded from the banks of the Barigi, the country got lower and more marshy, showing signs of prolonged submersion under water. It was, I may remark, the driest year experienced for a long period on the north-east coast. At last we emerged upon the reed-covered bank of a huge shallow lake or lagoon, and within sight of a village built on tall poles, in the midst of reeds and water, some half a mile distant from the shore. “There,” said Oiogoba Sara, “there are the houses of the Agai Ambu, the duck-footed people, whose feet are so tender that they cannot walk on dry land.” “How long have they been there?” I asked. “From a time extending beyond the memory of my father’s father,” he said; which is about the length of reliable native tradition in New Guinea.

The bank of the lagoon, upon which we stood, was in reality neither soil nor earth, but a springy substance composed of decaying humus and marsh plants, upon which one had constantly to shift one’s position to avoid sinking up to one’s knees in water; it fairly hummed with mosquitoes and swarmed with large black hairy spiders. The surface of the water was alive with wild duck, teal, grebe, plover, and geese, beyond counting, and all remarkably tame; it was covered also with water-lilies, over the floating leaves of which, water-fowl ran. Never have I seen a spot so abundant in bird life. The water itself teemed with fishes of a carp-like variety, some of which I caught and sent to the British Museum, where they were discovered to be a species new to science. The name allotted to these by the British Museum authorities is Electris Moncktoni. At intervals there jutted in upon the bank of the lagoon, lake, or morass, whatever one likes to call it, extensive sago swamps. The lagoon is fed by the overflow waters of the Musa River: I had previously been much puzzled, when upon the second Doriri expedition (which, by the way, I refer to later), by finding flooded waters from the river flowing in well-defined streams, and apparently contrary to all known habits of rivers, away from the river proper in a north-easterly direction; and with no known outfall for flood waters on the coast north of the mouth of the river;—flood waters from a river such as the Musa have such a distinct yellow colour, that their advent to the sea could hardly be missed by any passing vessel. Now, this apparently unnatural phenomenon was accounted for; the flood waters of the Musa were discharged into this reedy lake, and there precipitated their mud and sediment, thence finding their way to the sea by many swampy—but clear—streams. At Oiogoba’s suggestion, I concealed our party in the reeds, as he explained that though the Agaiambu were on friendly terms with his people, they were mortally afraid of every one else, as they were so helpless on dry land, and that if they thought strangers were present nothing would induce them to leave their canoes. Oiogoba’s people maintained trading relations with them, exchanging vegetables in times of plenty, and at other times, stone implements and earthenware pots for sago and smoked or fresh fish. The Baruga natives (Oiogoba’s people) now yelled to them, asking them to come ashore to trade with them; and forthwith several canoes set out from the village to the shore. As soon as the first canoe arrived, containing two men, the Baruga called to me to come up, and they attempted to seize the men to retain them for me, but they struggled into the water, where the semi-amphibious Agaiambu easily escaped from the clutches of Baruga and the police, who had hastily rushed to their assistance; they then swam back through the water-lilies and clinging weeds of the lake to their village, their retreat being covered by other Agaiambu canoes, the crews of which brandished spears, paddles, and poles, and hurried to the help of their friends. The police and Baruga, who were all powerful men—much stronger men physically than the Agaiambu—and strong swimmers, could no more succeed in holding those men in the water while swimming than they could hold a large eel.

“Here is a pretty mess!” I said to old Oiogoba Sara. “I have thoroughly frightened those people, who have done us no harm, and now we shall see nothing further of them.” Fortunately we had in our hands the canoe in which the first two men had come; it was unlike any other Papuan canoe on the north-east coast, being hollowed from a single log and without an outrigger; it was also as thin as an egg-shell, round bottomed and extremely light, and neither my constabulary nor the Baruga could get into it without its capsizing immediately. I might just as well have asked them to mount and ride at once an old-fashioned high bicycle, as expect them to navigate that thing without long practice. “If I could only get some of my people over to the village of the Agaiambu with presents, I think that we could get at least one man to come here, and then the rest would be easy; they have no steel tools, and would run any risk to possess your tomahawks or adzes!” said Oiogoba. “Fit the canoe with an outrigger,” I told the police. “It’s too fragile to stand such,” they reported, after examination of the craft. “Make two outriggers, then,” I ordered, “and lash the canoe firmly between them to the cross-pieces.” This was done; two Baruga then embarked, taking with them a new tomahawk, a long knife, and some bright-coloured beads and print, and started for the agitated Agaiambu village, in which we could see great excitement was prevailing.

As our embassy approached, the inhabitants hastily crowded into their fragile cranky canoes, and began to bolt from their village. The two Baruga, shouting and yelling professions of friendship, held up their gifts and slowly forced their canoe through the water-lilies and weeds; the Agaiambu, seeing the slow progress of the captured canoe encumbered with its outriggers, hovered in the close vicinity, until the two Baruga had deposited our gifts upon the platform of one of the houses; after which they retired; whereupon the Agaiambu returned and inspected the—to them—untold wealth. “There is plenty more like that,” yelled the two Baruga, “if you will only come ashore and sell us fish, and let our master look at your feet.”

The Agaiambu discussed the matter, and then picked out one of their number, whom they apparently considered of slight value or little loss if we did kill him, and handed him over to the two Baruga, who brought him to me. The man selected kept up an unholy wailing all the way, and then nearly died of funk when he saw the—to him—awful colour of Acland, Walker, and myself. Hastily I gave him an adze, a tomahawk, some print, beads, and a mirror, and ordering the police to strip the outriggers from the canoe, told him he could take it and return to his people whenever he liked; immediately if he saw fit; he got into the canoe with his gifts, and pushing off a few yards from the edge, conversed with us at ease. “What do you want with us?” he asked. “Only to look at you and your village,” I replied, “through Oiogoba your fame as swimmers and fishers has spread through the land, and I wanted to know whether you were as clever as he said you were; also I want some of those birds,” at the same time pointing to the geese and ducks that were crowding in the vicinity. “We can get you those,” he answered. Meanwhile his fellow villagers, seeing he had not been hurt, approached in canoes. “Tell him, Oiogoba,” I said, “that I’ll get some for myself with a noise and in a manner strange to him, and that if he is not frightened and brings me the birds I have killed, I will give him yet another tomahawk.” Oiogoba told him, and added that he was to yell to the approaching canoes that he was all right and not to be frightened; which he did.

I then hastily beckoned to my boy to bring my gun, and shot a duck, blazing the second barrel into the brown of a rising flock, half a dozen of which fell, some of the cripples scurrying off; the Agaiambu man collapsed with a yell of funk, and was just making a bolt of it, when Oiogoba yelled, “Catch our birds! It is all right!” The man looked at the birds, picked up the dead, and then started off after the cripples, and within one minute was yelling to the other hastily departing canoes to come and help him catch them. The instinct of the chase had overcome his fears; we were now brother hunters in pursuit of a common quarry. A very few minutes now saw the remaining Agaiambu landing amongst us; I ordered the police to start pitching camp and to take no notice of them, whilst I sat on the ground with Oiogoba Sara, and merely noticed the still very timid Agaiambu by chucking any man he induced to come within a few yards of us, a gift of some sort.

“What is this strange-coloured being?” they asked Oiogoba, “a man or a devil?” “A man, whom I now serve,” he answered; “he is very wise and very powerful, and, if you don’t offend him, very kind; if you wish to please him, bring fish and sago for his people, and he will pay you most generously.” Off went the Agaiambu, and shortly returned with vast quantities of fish and sago; also a pig, very fat indeed, but whose feet were as soft and tender as a blancmange; this they brought as an offering to me. They were getting reassured by now, and my gifts in return for the pig included penny whistles and Jews’ harps, which delighted their simple souls; soon indeed their women, who were hovering in canoes a short distance away, and whose curiosity had brought them, were told by their lords and masters to come ashore as we were quite safe people.

The work of pitching camp was steadily going on, and beastly work it was, for the police had to drive poles into the squidgy marsh and build platforms on them, upon which to pitch the tents; at last my tent was complete, whither I at once retired to change my wet things, followed by the curious eyes of the Agaiambu. My cook, Toku, was busily engaged outside preparing our midday meal, when suddenly I heard his voice raised in exhortation. “Oh!” he said, “you must not come here!” and peeping out, I saw an Agaiambu woman depositing at his feet a string of fish. “What does she say?” I asked Oiogoba, who was sitting on my platform ready to act as interpreter if necessary. “She says they are for you,” he answered. “Tell her to send her husband for payment,” I replied. This being done the husband waddled up. “I don’t want paying,” he said, “you are good people, I give the fish to you.” On the man’s shoulder he had suspended a stone-headed adze for hollowing canoes, a clumsy tool at the best. “Ask him, Oiogoba, to give me that adze,” I said. Somewhat reluctantly he handed over his most valued tool. “Barigi,” I then said to that worthy, who, although my corporal, always insisted upon fussing about me and my clothes when camp was being pitched, “fit a plane iron to the head of this, instead of the stone, and give it back to him.” Barigi did so, and that Agaiambu sat and gloated over a tool such as in his wildest dreams he had never previously imagined. I had now gained the full confidence of the Agaiambu: taking advantage of this, Walker, Acland, and I put in that afternoon shooting ducks and geese, assisted by them and furnished with their canoes, they rendering them suitable for our purpose by lashing them together in groups of two or three; they also acted as retrievers of the shot game.

Now for a description of this remarkable people, the only authentic account that can ever be written, as they are now practically extinct; and Acland, Walker, and I are the only Europeans who ever had an opportunity of fully observing them and their habits. Sir Francis Winter, when Acting Governor, saw them on a later occasion, and described such as he saw; and after that Captain Barton; I accompanied both Administrators, but neither had as full nor as good an opportunity as I, their discoverer, had upon my first visit.

Firstly, the true type of Agaiambu differed from other natives in these respects—I say advisedly the true type, because there were certain members of the tribe who nearly approached the ordinary type of Baruga native; but this was explained by the purchase of their mothers from the Baruga people. Placing an Agaiambu man alongside a Baruga native of the same height, one found that his hip joints were three or four inches lower than that of the Baruga, one also found that his chest measurement was at least on an average three inches greater, while his chest expansion ran to as much again. The nostrils of the Agaiambu were twice the size of those of any native I have ever seen, they appeared to dilate and contract like those of a racehorse. Above the knee on the inside of the leg was a large mass of muscle; on the leg below the knee there was no calf whatsoever, but on the shin bone in front there was a protuberance of a sinewy nature. The knee joints were very wrinkly, with a scale-like appearance; the feet were as flat as pancakes, with practically no instep, and the toes long, flaccid, and straggling. Walking on hard ground or dry reeds, the Agaiambu moved with the hoppity gait of a cockatoo. Across the loins, instead of curving in fine lines as most natives do, there was a mass of corrugated skin and muscle. The skin of their feet was as tender as wet blotting-paper, and they bled freely as they crawled about upon the reeds and marshy ground of our camp. They had a slight epidermal growth between the toes, but nothing resembling webbing as alleged by the Baruga; the term “duck footed,” therefore, had only meant tender footed, or, more literally, “water-bird footed.”

They were extraordinarily adept at handling their light, cranky canoes, and they were more at home in the water than any people I have either seen or heard of, and appeared to stand upright in that element without any perceptible effort; the one thing that my Mambare police feared, who were all very powerful swimmers, was entangling clinging water-weeds, but the Agaiambu would dive among them without the slightest fear. They told me they caught duck and water-fowl by squatting in a bunch of reeds, or covering their heads with water-weeds, until a flock settled near, whereupon they would dive under the flock and pull a bird or two under without disturbing the rest; then, regaining their reeds or lump of weed, they would draw breath and repeat the performance. They told me that they had once been a numerous tribe, but that about thirty years before some epidemic had swept through them and killed most of the people. They did not know how long they had occupied the marsh or from whence they came; they had, however, a vague tradition to the effect that their ancestors had originally taken refuge in the marsh, and built a village on an island to escape from raiding enemies—the island, however, had long since disappeared. Their language was a dialect of the Baruga of the Musa River; so I conclude they originally came from that part, probably bolting in canoes before the attack of some raiders down the flood waters of that river, which had borne them to the site of their present abode.

Their diet consisted principally of fish, water-fowl, sago, and the roots of water-lilies. They kept pigs swung in cradles underneath their houses, lying on their bellies with their legs stuck through the bottom, and fed them upon fish and sago; the pigs never had any exercise, and most of them were procured as suckers from the Baruga, but some they bred in their houses. The Agaiambu houses were of rectangular oblong shape, and built on poles stuck in a depth of about ten feet of water. Their dead they disposed of by wrapping the body in mats made from pandanus leaves, and then tying it upon a stake stuck in the water; the body itself was secured well above flood level. I both saw and smelt two of their “graves.” At one house they had a tame half-grown crocodile tied up at the end of a rope. I tried to induce two of them to return with me to Cape Nelson, as I knew my account of them would be ridiculed; but their fear of the hard dry land was too great to overcome.

Captain Barton later took a photograph of an Agaiambu man, which I here insert, but the individual he photographed was by no means a good specimen of this strange people; for, by the time I took Barton there, most of the tribe had been decoyed ashore and slaughtered by a raiding party of Doriri, an event I refer to later. Sir Francis Winter, who also on one occasion went with me to see them, gives the following account in an official dispatch to the Governor-General of Australia:—

“The Ahgai-ambo have for a period that extends beyond native traditions lived in this swamp. At one time they were fairly numerous, but a few years ago some epidemic reduced them to about forty. They never leave their morass, and the Baruga assured us that they are not able to walk properly on hard ground, and that their feet soon bleed if they try to do so. The man that came on shore was for a native middle-aged. He would have been a fair-sized native, had his body, from the hips downwards, been proportionate to the upper part of his frame. He had a good chest, and, for a native, a thick neck, and his arms matched his trunk. His buttocks and thighs were disproportionately small, and his legs still more so. His feet were short and broad, and very thin and flat, with, for a native, weak-looking toes. This last feature was still more noticeable in the woman, whose toes were long and slight and stood out rigidly from the foot as though they possessed no joints. The feet of both the man and the woman seemed to rest on the ground something as wooden feet would do. The skin above the knees of the man was in loose folds, and the sinews and muscles around the knee were not well developed. The muscles of the shin were much better developed than those of the calf. In the ordinary native the skin on the loins is smooth and tight, and the anatomy of the body is clearly discernible; but the Ahgai-ambo man had several folds of thick skin or muscle across the loins, which concealed the outline of his frame. On placing one of our natives, of the same height, alongside the marsh man, we noticed that our native was about three inches higher at the hips.

“I had a good view of our visitor, while he was standing sideways to me, and in figure and carriage he looked to me more ape-like than any human being that I have ever seen. The woman, who was of middle age, was much more slightly formed than the man, but her legs were short and slender in proportion to her figure, which from the waist to the knees was clothed in a wrapper of native cloth.”