On the first of July, 1903, the Merrie England arrived at Cape Nelson, bringing the Administrator, Mr. Justice Robinson. His Excellency informed me that he intended to visit the Yodda Gold-field at once, and to proceed with all possible speed towards the construction of a road to that point, also that he wished to know before the work was begun whether there was any possible alternative route to that already explored, and recommended by Mr. Surveyor Tooth and myself from Oro Bay. I replied that it was possible that a route existed leading from Porloch Bay, behind the Hydrographer’s Range to Papaki (or Papangi, as my men called it). Sir William MacGregor’s map showed the Yodda River as heading there; this, however, I knew from my own explorations to be incorrect; but Sir William must have some reason for thinking that a long valley ran between the Hydrographer’s and the Main Ranges, and this was also my own belief. Walker, R.M., and De Molynes, A.R.M., had sent in a report and map of their explorations in that part of the country, also showing a valley, but they said it was the valley of the south branch of the Kumusi. “I have that report and map,” said his Excellency. “Well, both are pure fiction,” I replied. “What do you mean by that?” he asked. “One moment, sir, and you will know,” I answered, and sent an orderly for Private Arita, and upon his appearance questioned him as follows.

“You were with Mr. Walker and Mr. De Molynes when they went up the Kumusi to Papangi?” “Yes, sir.” “How far did they go beyond Papangi?” “Two hours’ journey, to where the Kumusi emerges from the hills; then we came back,” was the reply. “Did Mr. Walker ever visit that part of the country again?” I asked. “No, sir.” “There you are, your Excellency,” I said, “Walker drew a map and furnished a report upon a country scores of miles beyond the furthest point he reached. The whole thing is simply guess-work.” “Why do you think Sir William MacGregor placed a long valley there?” asked the Governor. “He probably saw a valley, or what looked like a valley, from the summit of the Main Range on his Victoria Expedition, and from a height of twelve or thirteen thousand feet, hills of two or three thousand might look like a flat. Anyhow he was wrong in his assumption that the Yodda River headed there; and in any case he never made any definite statement to that effect, he simply noted it as a possibility. The fact now remains that we know absolutely nothing of the country between the Hydrographer’s Range and the Main Range; Sir William MacGregor’s theory has been proved wrong by later explorations of the Yodda, while Walker’s map and report are not to be seriously considered.”

“What do you think about it?” asked Robinson. “I cannot tell,” I answered. “It is possible or probable that there is a long fertile valley drained either by the Barigi River into Porloch Bay, or by an affluent of the Kumusi, or by both; or the country may be auriferous; or again it may be a succession of hills and ranges of a few thousand feet; it is impossible to know without traversing it. If there is a long valley there it would be the best route to the Yodda.” “Well, I am going to find out,” said Robinson, “and you are coming with me; the details of the equipment and personnel of the expedition are now in your hands. When can we start?” “To-morrow, sir,” I answered, as I went off to warn my men and send for carriers, wondering why everything hot and unwholesome always fell to my lot. I was not at all enamoured of the prospect, for neither Robinson, Bruce, nor Manning was acclimatized to the country or knew anything about the work, and I saw that if anything went wrong—as well it might—I should be the scapegoat.

The following day I left with the Governor for Porloch Bay, taking with me ten of my constabulary, a dozen armed village constables, and about 130 Kaili Kaili as carriers; to which were added the Governor’s boat’s crew of eight constabulary and the Commandant’s travelling patrol of twenty. At Porloch Bay my old enemy but now dear friend, Oiogoba Sara, appeared and gave us much assistance. He had all his fighting men under arms to repel a threatened attack from a raiding hill tribe, and wanted us to stop and help him; but as I very soon found out that he was confident of beating off his enemies, the Governor decided to go on with our more important work, especially as I told him that the mere passage of our force through Oiogoba’s country would discourage the raiders, as indeed old Oiogoba himself thought.

Here, I went through the stores and equipment provided by Manning for the Governor’s use, and remorselessly cast out such things as lager beer, potatoes, tinned fruit, etc. These things, I told Manning, were about as useful to an expedition of this sort as a pair of bathing drawers to a conger eel. “But his Excellency may wish to invite some one to lunch or dinner at the Yodda,” squealed Manning. “Then his Excellency’s guests can share his Excellency’s fare of bully beef, biscuits, rice, and yams.” “Mr. Monckton, sir,” appealed Manning, “is leaving behind a great deal of your private stores.” “Exactly what I expected he would do, Manning. I am glad my impression of him is confirmed. Perhaps you are fortunate that he has not left you behind as well!” replied Robinson, who was a man all through.

Our first camp was at old Oiogoba’s village of Neimbadi on the Barigi River, which the old boy, by dint of building new stockades and tree houses, had now turned into a strong position. At dawn on the following morning we struck camp, and, guided by Oiogoba and his escort of spearmen, struck inland to where the Barigi River forks, and thence followed the northern branch, the Tamberere, along its tortuous and rocky course until noon, being compelled to cross and recross the beastly stream no less than five times. In the afternoon, after ascending a rocky gorge, we emerged on to rolling grass hills, and eventually camped for the night at an altitude of about 1000 feet. From here bearings on Mounts MacGregor and Lamington gave me my position; and I told his Excellency that a line as near west-north-west as possible was our route, and one that would determine whether a valley suitable for a road existed behind Mount Lamington or not. Personally, however, I was of the opinion that from the look of the land ahead some rough country lay between the supposititious valley and us.

The country we were camped in was a sort of “no man’s land” or border land lying between the Baruga tribe and their mountain enemies, amongst whom could be numbered the Aga, who inhabited the inland slopes of the Hydrographer Range, and were now right ahead of us. This tribe I had heard was in the habit of poisoning its spears; but, like almost every other story to that effect in New Guinea, this proved untrue. Oiogoba and his escort left us here; he returning to take charge of the defence of his village against the expected raid. I, however, kept his village constable with me to act as an interpreter.

From this point our way now led over steep-sided hills of two to three thousand feet in height, at the bottom of which there were deep rocky gorges through which ran very rapid streams. From the top of one big hill we espied in the distance high tree houses, belonging to an outpost of a tribe named Gogori, so my village constable told me. The country lying between us and the houses was frightfully precipitous and rough, and the descent and ascent of the slopes made extremely interesting by loose boulders accidentally dislodged by the men above falling on those below. In most places it was only possible to proceed in Indian file, which of course meant that when a boulder was dislodged it practically enfiladed the long line.

Boulder dodging on a very steep slope is interesting because one never knows where it is coming, and therefore has to wait to dodge until it is almost into one, in order to prevent stepping into instead of out of its track. Sometimes the loaded men in endeavouring to avoid one stone would start others, whereupon all of us at the lower end had a truly lively time; though I never knew a man actually struck. There is an art in dodging a boulder on a hillside. One hears a sudden yell of warning from the individual by whom it has been started on its career, then a running fire of curses and laughter from the men; curses, as each man watches the course of the boulder and waits to jump aside; laughter, as—the feat accomplished—he watches the expressions and listens to the language of those below awaiting their turn!

Our order of march was as follows. First went four constabulary scouts, two Mambare and two Kaili Kaili, keeping from one to three hundred yards ahead, and making the easiest line to be followed; then I came with the interpreters and ten of the constabulary, followed by the Governor, Manning, and his Excellency’s armed boat’s crew; behind them again came a long line of carriers, studded at intervals with armed village constables; while Bruce and his constabulary brought up the rear.

The country now in front of us was very broken and precipitous, and after descending one particularly steep slope of about a thousand feet we found it terminated in a deep gorge, into which we descended by means of vines, which we tied to trees at the top and slid down. We followed the gorge for some four miles or so, wading sometimes up to our waists in water, until we suddenly found ourselves in a sort of huge cup or amphitheatre surrounded on all sides by precipices and high hills. I asked the Baruga village constable if he had ever been there before. He replied, “No,” though he had heard of the place, and vowed if it had not been for the police and myself nothing would have induced him to come, as it was haunted by devils! He had hardly spoken, when crack! crack! crack! went the rifles of the scouts. “There! What did I tell you?” said that v.c., turning pale under his dusky skin, “the devils have found the scouts!” “Then I am sorry for the devils,” I remarked; as, in response to a nod from me, half a dozen police tore off to support the scouts.

“The devils” turned out to be a small party of mountaineers, who had discovered and suddenly attacked my scouts. No damage was done by them, other than a spear hole through Private Mukawa’s haversack. Several of the mountaineers were wounded and two captured; they had been demoralized and terrified by the—to them—appalling noise and effect of the rifle fire. One of the captured men was a leper. We could not make them understand a word we said; their language was quite strange to the Baruga village constable; but by signs we endeavoured to explain to them that we were not enemies, and we gave them a few small presents, and sent them off to rejoin their friends.

Leaving the amphitheatre, we followed a steep gorge until our way was barred by a waterfall 150 feet in height, which brought us to a full stop. It was not a particularly enviable situation in which we found ourselves, for in the event of natives on the top discovering us, they would be quite likely to begin dropping stones, spears, tree trunks, etc., on our heads, without our being able to retaliate. Until one has taught him differently, the inland Papuan holds the simple creed that every stranger is an enemy to be killed at sight.

At last Sergeant Barigi discovered a faint track leading up a narrow side gorge; so, taking half a dozen police with me, I followed it for about a mile, the bottom gradually rising the whole time, until it also terminated in a waterfall about twenty feet in height. Resting against the side of the waterfall was a smooth pole, up which the local natives apparently climbed. After many efforts Corporal Bia and four police succeeded in climbing up it, and stationed themselves as a guard at the top, while I sent word to the Governor to come on. When more police arrived, they made a ladder of poles and vines, and by its help we emerged from the “abode of devils” on to a steep hillside, up which we climbed with considerable difficulty in the wake of the scouts, who were now reinforced by Corporal Bia and his four men.

At the top of the hill there was a small stockaded village vacated by its inhabitants, into which Bia and his scouts carefully crawled. Whizz! suddenly came a spear from the air, passing between the crawling Bia’s arm and body, and pinning him to the ground by his jumper. He looked up and spotted a bushman on a platform at the top of an enormous tree. Whizz! Whizz! came a couple more spears, which he dodged. The bushman leant over for a more deliberate shot at him. “You have had three shots at me,” said Bia; “now here is something for yourself!” And he potted that bushman like a rook. There was a large garden near the village full of yams, to which the carriers and police helped themselves, leaving, however, salt and tobacco in payment.

From here we followed native tracks from one hilltop to another; each hilltop crowned with a small stockaded village the inhabitants of which always fled at the hail of our scouts, and reoccupied the village after we had passed through; at each village we left small presents as a sign that we were not hostile marauders.

After leaving the village we got into a waterless rocky volcanic country, consisting of a sort of scoria, and soon were all suffering from the pangs of thirst. From early morning until late in the forenoon of the following day we went without water, the scouts ranging for miles on a fruitless quest, till the laden carriers showed signs of severe distress. At last the scouts discovered a garden with a man at work in it, and captured him. We gave the man a few beads and a zinc mirror, and he soon got over his fright; he spoke a peculiarly musical language, but none of my men could make head or tail of it. We made him understand by signs that we wanted water, and that we would give him a long-knife and a tomahawk as a reward if he guided us to it; he, in his turn, made signs that he would do so, and went off with Sergeant Kimai and a few police. After a couple of hours the sergeant came back, and reported that the man had led him north, south, east, and west, and had then tried to bolt. “Take him out of the Governor’s hearing, and give him a taste of your belt,” I told Kimai. “I have already done that,” replied that worthy sergeant; “I had to do it carefully for fear of leaving marks, but he is a very pig for obstinacy.” “There must be water somewhere near his garden,” I said. “Take him to a sunny spot and fill his mouth with salt; then run him up and down, and when he blows sprinkle his nose with dry wood ashes!” In about an hour’s time the man was brought back, and I could plainly see that he had a thirst sufficient to make a drunkard of an Archbishop! He eagerly made signs of drinking, and pointed in the direction we wished to go. In half an hour he had taken us to a pool of indifferent water, which we drank up; and in another twenty minutes to a fine stream.

At about four o’clock on the afternoon of this day we came upon a group of villages surrounded by gardens. The scouts waved calico and green boughs, and yelled “Ovakaiva” (peace); the inhabitants, however, would have nothing to do with us in a friendly way. One enterprising individual stalked Sergeant Barigi, and knocked him over with a stone-headed club; before he had time to finish him, however, Private Tamanabai noticed what was going on and shot his assailant.

Just ahead of us there was a stockaded village, situated on a spur in a very strong position, and right across the track that we should be obliged to follow. Fortunately most of the men belonging to it were away, and I was able to take the village without bloodshed, by threatening a flank attack, and then suddenly rushing my men into it. Its inhabitants retreated to another village, from whence they hurled abuse and defiance at us. Private Maione was able to talk to these people, as they spoke a language resembling that of the Sangara tribe, which he knew. They demanded what we meant by “polluting their country and village by our obscene presence!” Maione replied that we were but travellers passing through their country, and that we did not want to fight, but would pay well for food, guides, and assistance. They replied that they would “provide us with all the fighting we wanted!”

The Governor now told me that he did not wish any fighting to take place, nor any natives to be shot, and personally gave an order to this effect to the police. I told his Excellency that the last thing either myself or my police wanted was to fight, but that I certainly had no intention of allowing either my men or my Kaili Kaili carriers to be killed by bushmen. Whereupon his Excellency said, that as I could not see eye to eye with him in the matter, he would release me from the command and place Bruce in charge: which he did.

The immediate result of Bruce’s disposition of our force was that Maione, my personal orderly, and our only interpreter, was badly speared, and a strong attack was developed against us. We had a very bad time during the night staving off attack after attack. Then Bruce came to Robinson, and said, “I don’t understand this sort of fighting, neither do my men, and their nerves are going. Monckton’s men do; but they are all sulking badly, and the carriers are following suit.”

Bruce also asked me to look at some of his own and the Governor’s men who appeared to be sickening for something or other; which I did; and also questioned them. They told me that a strange sickness was sweeping through the native villages at Port Moresby just about the time they left. “Measles! as I am a living sinner!” I exclaimed, and went off to the Governor. “Some epidemic has broken out amongst the men, sir; and they say it is similar to a new illness in Port Moresby. I am afraid it is measles,” I told him. “The Chief Medical Officer told me that there was a slight outbreak of German measles, but said that he did not consider that it was dangerous,” replied his Excellency. “It might not be dangerous to well-housed European children or natives at Port Moresby; but with hard work and the wet of the mountains, not to speak of having to wade through streams, these men of mine will die like flies. Besides, each man that sickens overloads the others, and we already have one dangerously wounded man to carry, with a probability of more.” “What do you advise?” asked the Governor. “Make for the coast, where shelter can be obtained for the men, as fast as we possibly can,” was my answer. “How?” he asked. “A bee line over the Hydrographers,” I replied. “That is, abandon the work we are on and confess failure! That will never do: my very first work! Did Sir William MacGregor ever do such a thing?” he asked. “I have never heard of his doing so,” I replied. “Then why do you advise me to take such a course?” he demanded. “For the sake of the lives of my men, and for your Excellency’s own sake. If we continue to lose a large number of men, the press and public will kick up a fuss.” The Governor then called Bruce into consultation; after which he called for me again.

“This fiasco is most distressing to me,” he said. “But Mr. Bruce agrees with you that the risk in going on is too great; in fact, he goes further, and says that we should not reach Papangi with sick men.” “I do not think that the risk is too great, and I would undertake to reach Papangi with little or no loss, if I were allowed to do it in my own way; but I could not do it in the manner we are attempting it, and therefore recommend making for the coast.” “How would you do it?” “Fling my scouts ahead for miles to examine the country and report to me, who would be with an advance party; and then keep bringing up the main body on the best route by forced marches. The sick men would then have only the easiest country to cross, and would know that they were going to camp every night in a carefully chosen site with good wood and water. But if they are going to blunder over the country, sometimes without fire, at others without water, and subject to perpetual alarms from hostile natives, they can never do it.” “Very good, then; you are to take full command once more, and get us to Papangi,” ordered the Governor. “I understand, then, sir, that my men are not in the future to wait until they are speared before defending themselves?” “Give the orders you think best,” he replied.

That night no one got any sleep; natives beating drums, blowing war-horns and yelling at intervals, the whole night through, and trying hard to stalk the sentries; the latter, lying flat on their stomachs, potted religiously at every moving object that came within their vision. Just before dawn, the people—who, by the way, were called Kaina—massed in the scrub for a rush; but the sentries had marked the manoeuvre and warned me. Whereupon I ordered a volley to be fired into the spot; which, judging from the yelps, yells, and sound of men running through bushes, apparently had a considerable effect. After dawn they had all disappeared.

“What would they do to us, if they caught us?” asked the Governor, who was looking very haggard from want of sleep, and from worrying over the ultimate fate of the expedition. “At the best, kill and eat us,” I answered, “perhaps torture us first. They are a bad lot in this part. A short time ago some similar natives caught two miners, Campion and King, on the Upper Kumusi, the part we are making for, and stuck stakes through their stomachs and roasted the pair alive. When a native woman interceded, they stunned her and chucked her on the fire also. Ask Maione about them, if you are interested; he knows all about their nice little ways.”

All that day natives hung round our line of march, but avoided a fight; and the scouts discovered numerous spear pits, six and eight feet deep, studded at the bottom with sharply pointed spears, pointed upwards and covered with twigs, leaves, and earth—horrible traps for the unwary. Other delicate attentions were small, exceedingly sharp spears, fixed at an angle in grass or scrub to catch one about the knee or thigh. But I will leave the tale of the rest of the expedition to Judge Robinson, and give an extract from his Official Dispatch to the Governor-General of Australia.

“On 10th June we left camp at 9 a.m. and found the track very sticky and slippery. After walking about three miles Mr. Monckton who was in front with half a dozen police surprised a native in a garden. He nearly succeeded in spearing Tamanambai, who wounded him in return. The surprised native was evidently a sorcerer, and while we were examining his bag of tricks and charms, consisting of pebbles, pieces of bone, stained pieces of wood, etc., we heard the sound of war-shells and war-cries. Some of the carriers were some distance behind and we had some difficulty in hurrying them up, and an attempt was made to attack them in our rear which was repelled. This was followed by a frontal attack in which four of the hillmen were killed. We then followed circuitous native tracks affording good cover in the grass for the enemy’s spearmen, and two or three met their fate in this way. We were evidently well watched; and turning suddenly on to another track we reached the foot of a steep and slippery hillock upon which was a large village of about forty houses. We were evidently expected to come by another track, and our arrival by the steep path was apparently unexpected. Only two hillmen were killed in the encounter at this village. Although they were in a position to have caused some loss amongst our party as we came up the hill, none of the police received any hurt, possibly owing to our having surprised the village as already described. After we had left this village our scouts were attacked several times. Two men were shot. One sprang out upon the path ten feet from Arita, who, without having time to unsling his rifle from his shoulder, shot his assailant dead before the poised spear had time to leave his hand. The natives here were of good stature and warlike. I saw no evidence of steel tools and they are apparently not yet emerged from the stone age. They were all armed with formidable spears, shields, and stone clubs. The country is rather thickly populated, and the natives do not trouble to build stockades to their villages. We found tobacco growing in the gardens in great quantities and of the most excellent quality. I see no reason why these hills should not in the future produce all the tobacco required for Australian consumption. Tobacco is apparently indigenous to New Guinea, and I have been informed that some leaf which Sir William MacGregor sent to England was sold for 18s. per lb. When burnt the tobacco in these hills emits an excellent aroma; the flavour also is good, but of course what we smoked was not properly dried and prepared. In almost every garden were quantities of sugar-cane, paupau, pumpkins, sweet potatoes and, of course, the inevitable taro and yams. There are also quantities of an excellent nut, probably the Terminalia Katappa (?) superior to a walnut in flavour. I looked for nutmegs but did not find any, although the bark of a tree found has a taste and scent resembling the mace of commerce. The country abounds in a variety of fibrous plants which could probably be turned to valuable account. We camped for the night on the site of a village situated on a spur of a mountain 2329 feet in height, from which we located the southern peak of Mount Lamington, 55° N.E. We also saw a high peak 6280 feet high bearing 109° S.E., apparently behind Oro Bay. This mountain peak is higher than Mount Lamington. It has hitherto borne no name, and I have named it Mount Barton in honour of the first Premier of the Australian Commonwealth. I have since located the mountain from the sea, and although the clouds considerably obscured the view, it is probably the most conspicuous point in the Hydrographer’s Range.

“I was aroused before daybreak the next morning by the now familiar war-cries of natives; and the sentries were speedily reinforced by a line of police at each end of the spur upon which we were camped, prepared to repel a rush. The hour just before dawn appears to be a favourite time for an attack amongst Papuans, and we found evidence afterwards that these natives had camped for a portion of the night in some numbers in the scrub at the edge of the clearing, and had denied themselves the comfort of a fire, so that their presence might not be disclosed, making small shelters of branches to protect them from the chill mountain air. They evidently intended to take us by surprise, and to rush our camp, but finding it so well guarded and no doubt feeling very cold, their spirits failed them and they contented themselves with loud challenges, threats, and blowing of war-shells, which were responded to, I have no doubt, in equally uncomplimentary language by our police and carriers. We could hear them moving in the undergrowth, but they wisely refrained from emerging into the clearing. Mr. Bruce fired at a dark form in the dim light, and after continuing their warlike demonstrations for some little time longer, they retreated when the first streaks of dawn began to appear.

“The panorama when the sun rose was one of great beauty. Looking backward in the direction of our route, the valley at our feet and the bases of the surrounding mountains were swathed in thick white clouds, heavy with mist, like banks of snow; Mount Barton and Mount Lamington showed clear out against the morning sky, and far more distant rose the lofty heights of Mount MacGregor, soon to be enveloped in the gradually rising clouds.

“We obtained no view of Mount Victoria, but Mr. Monckton recognized the gap in the Owen Stanley Range, and Mount Nisbet in a S.W. direction from it.

“I omitted to mention that one of the village constables captured a woman of exceptionally dour and unprepossessing exterior on the previous evening who was able to speak to Maione. She informed him she knew the way to Papaki, and pointed in the direction which Mr. Monckton had approximately estimated it to be, viz. W.N.W. from the point. I decided to bring the woman with me some distance as a guide, but we subsequently found that she did not appear able to show us any native tracks, and we were obliged, as heretofore, to rely on the compass, which had for some days shown a considerable northerly deviation in the direction of Notu, possibly due to the close proximity of the ironstone formation of Mount Lamington. I subsequently left the woman at Bogi and instructed the Assistant Resident Magistrate there to endeavour through her to get into friendly relations with her people.

“Endeavouring unsuccessfully to find a spur running in the direction in which we wished to go, we were obliged to continue our mountain climbing, which seemed to become steeper and more arduous as we proceeded. As we skirted a village a native called to us from the distance, and although we did our utmost to induce him to approach us, and made signs of friendship, we could not encourage him to do so. At evening we camped at an altitude of 2639 feet. Twenty-five cases of measles among the carriers.

“Next day, 12th of July, was repetition of the day before. The route was even more steep and it was not possible to follow a N.W. course. Moreover there was no indication of any alteration in the configuration of the country. More carriers suffering from measles.

“13th July. After discussing the position it was decided to remain in camp to-day and rest the carriers, Mr. Monckton to take eight police and to investigate the country ahead. After breakfast, accompanied by Mr. Bruce and Mr. Manning, I ascended to the top of the hill upon which our camp was situated, and upon cutting some timber obtained a view of the sea to the north, and of a hill in the distance which one of the police said he recognized as the Opi Hill. Upon our return to the camp we found that the bushmen, who were apparently watching our movements and had evidently seen Mr. Monckton’s departure and imagined that possibly most of the rifles had gone with him, threatened an attack. They called out from the thick jungle as before. We waited for some time, but could not see any of our visitors, whom we judged to be a distance of a hundred yards on the steep slope of the hill opposite our camp. We fired a volley in that direction and a second one also, which had the desired effect. A subsequent inspection did not disclose any traces of our shots having taken effect, although bullet marks were plainly seen all round where the natives’ footprints were.

“Mr. Monckton returned at 4 p.m. with the report that by making a rather precipitous descent he had found a small creek which led into much more even country by native tracks. He had seen signs of natives everywhere, and a tree had been cut in one place only a short time before he passed.

“The carriers had a bad night, thirty of them ill with measles, added to which they felt the cold very much at night.

“Next day, 14th July, we made the descent mentioned by Mr. Monckton to a height of 1856 feet, following the creek. At luncheon time we threw out scouts, one of whom was attacked by a native who hurled a spear at him, and was shot. Travelled in all nine miles and camped in an old garden over-run with sweet potatoes. The native denizens, anticipating our doing so, had sown the place with foot spears, and one carrier was slightly wounded in the foot.

“Next morning going to the bank of the creek which flowed close to the camp, I suddenly looked up and saw the head of a native peering at me from the high bank opposite. Upon seeing that he was observed he disappeared, but in a few moments thirty or forty of them disclosed themselves. These we endeavoured to conciliate also but ineffectually, and upon taking our departure fixed on a prominent tree in the garden were left two steel adzes as payment for the potatoes eaten by the party, surmounted by a green bough.

“Following the bed of the creek all day and thereby avoiding the mountains drained by it, up to our waists in the cold stream, we made fairly good progress. It rained in torrents in the afternoon and we were all very cold and uncomfortable. At night (1539 feet) the whole camp could be heard coughing; one or two cases of scurvy appeared.

“16th and 17th July. We continued to make our way, often with much difficulty, along the bed of the same creek which, increased by several affluents, had become a mountain torrent. Its general course was W. by N., and its many windings at the base of the surrounding hills lengthened our journey. Occasionally we were able to cut off a corner, and at other times were compelled to take to the mountains to avoid an impassable gorge. The fording of the river moreover had become difficult; it was as much as one could do to breast the swiftly running current. We saw some small speckled mountain ducks with yellow bills of a species probably new to science. One of these was shot and skinned by Mr. Monckton for the British Museum. It was satisfactory to learn from the hypsometer that we were dropping to a lower altitude, and on the evening of the 17th, after being obliged to leave the river and to take to the mountains, and after having negotiated a rather difficult precipice, the side of which dropped sheer some hundred feet into a torrent below, we struck a native track and emerged at dark once more on the right bank of the river, now become well entitled to the name, and opposite to a suspension bridge of vines, where were some native huts, and clear evidence, in the shape of an improvised oven constructed of large round stones such as are used to cook human flesh, that not long before a cannibal hunting-party had encamped there. One of the police who comes from this part of the country now recognized the river which we followed from its source as the Kumusi (the right branch), information which relieved me not a little as, in view of the fact that our supply of rice for the carriers and police was fast diminishing (we arrived at Papangi with only five bags), I confess to have felt some anxiety during the last few days on that score, and none the less when I learnt some days previously that Mr. Monckton’s orderly had inquired of him as to what we should do if all the food were finished before we had reached Papaki. Mr. Monckton replied that we should still go on until we reached Papaki. The orderly suggested that the better course would be for Mr. Monckton and the Cape Nelson police to clear out and leave the others of the party to do the best they could. Mr. Monckton replied that that would never do, and asked him what he proposed to do with Maione, his wounded comrade; but he had evidently left him out of his calculations!

“We all suffered not a little from scrub-itch, an invisible, microscopic tick, which, burrowing under one’s skin, raises a lump and causes intense irritation. Leeches were also very troublesome in the scrub, and whenever there was a slight halt one became covered with these bloodthirsty creatures. If one adds to these pests, bulldog ants of the most aggressive kind, trailing vines to trip one whenever vigilance is relaxed, and a variety of prickly trees and vines, it will be understood that exploration in New Guinea, as in most tropical lands, has its discomforts.

“On the morning of the 18th July, however, none of these small discomforts were remembered, and still following along the course of the Kumusi River, we passed through an unfinished garden at which was a hut containing a quantity of yams. These I instructed the carriers to take, leaving a pound of tobacco—more than the equivalent for the yams—in payment. From here we could descry Mount Victoria, 270° due west, and also Papaki about seven or eight miles distant. Proceeding a little further we came to more gardens in which were natives at work, but instead of their being friendly, as I expected they would be, so near the Government Station, they quickly disappeared and presently were heard the blowing of the war-shells and loud cries. A village through which we passed had evidently just been deserted, and we could hear the occupants calling to one another in the bush. I learnt later that these natives had recently driven out or exterminated the tribe that formerly occupied the country, which would account for the number of deserted gardens we passed.

“Later in the afternoon Arita, one of the police who accompanied the late Mr. Walker, R.M., on his expedition to punish the murderers of the two miners, Campion and King, pointed out the furthermost point reached by him. I knew Campion when he was seeking his fortune as a miner on the Etheridge Gold-field, North Queensland. I grieved to learn of the manner of his death at the hands of these treacherous natives, to whom he had shown nothing but kindness, and who had affected to be friendly disposed towards him. The natives in this vicinity have not yet been brought into subjection, and require, in my opinion, a severe lesson. They are certainly difficult to deal with, as when attacked they betake themselves to the mountains, where it is difficult to follow them. So impudent are they that only a month prior to my visit they threw spears into Papaki Station, which is, by the way, the worst site that could possibly be chosen for a Station, being three-quarters of a mile from water which is in abundant supply all round, and flanked by an open plain leading to the creek covered with long coarse grass affording excellent cover for an inimical attack. I propose removing this Station to a point on the proposed road to the Gold-field in the near future.

“Our camp at eventide was on the banks of the Kumusi a couple of hundred yards above the rapids and opposite to Papaki.

“The river had been spanned here by a native suspension bridge of vines, which had been cut, but by next morning, 19th July, the police and carriers had constructed rafts, and in a comparatively short space of time the whole party had safely crossed to the other side. A few hours’ walk and Papaki Station was reached. There I was received by the A.R.M., Mr. Walsh, and by Mr. Elliott, A.R.M. at Bogi.

* * * * *

“From Papaki Mount Lamington and Mount Barton can be distinctly seen; the former, called by the local natives Bapapa, bears easterly 86°, and the peaks of the latter (Koriva) 92° and 98°. A high mountain to the south-west, probably Mount Bellamy, called by the natives Ufumba, bears 250°, and Mount Victoria (Paru) 265°. Peaks bearing 194° and 110° from Papaki, forming what the miners call “The Divide” between the Kumusi and Yodda Rivers, are called by the natives here Burupurari, and are comparatively close to the Station. They do not appear to have any European name, and I called the highest Mount Monckton.

* * * * *

“I should like here to record my high appreciation of the good work performed by Mr. Monckton upon this somewhat trying journey inland. His knowledge of bushwork and experience with natives made it possible for me successfully to make the inland expedition, and to see for myself the real condition of affairs in the interior; and the knowledge and experience thus gained I trust may prove useful in the administration of this new country.”

Here I resume again my own tale. Our arrival at Papangi practically ended my labour in connection with finding our way through new country, as from that point to the coast our route lay through well-known policed country, where Walsh, Assistant R.M., held his sway; and where, therefore, it was his duty to pick the stages and camp sites. Bruce, Elliott, and I marched in advance with the whole of my constabulary and the sick, who were carried and helped along by their stronger friends. Papangi carriers, engaged by Walsh, carried our luggage. Then came the Governor, Walsh, and Manning; while the Papangi detachment of constabulary brought up the rear.

At about four in the afternoon I decided to camp, in order to get my sick under cover before the evening rains came on; I expecting the Governor’s party to arrive within a few minutes. An hour went by: the Papangi carriers came in, and reported that Walsh, the Governor, and Manning had dropped behind to gather orchids and land shells. More time elapsed, and I began to get anxious and sent back Sergeant Barigi and ten men to look for them, also Elliott’s corporal, who knew the country well. The night was coming on fast when the corporal returned to say that they had found the Governor and the rest of the party, sitting between the Kumusi and another big river, just above their confluence. They should have crossed the former by a native bridge three miles further back; and the Governor, being tired, was in an awful rage with Walsh and had sent to tell me to get him over.

Cursing bitterly all wild Irishmen who lost their ways in their own districts, and incidentally put Governors in a passion, I, together with Elliott, wended my way to the spot; only to sight across fifty yards of dark, murky-looking water a very angry potentate, sitting with his private secretary on a sand-bank, while a disconsolate Walsh sat some twenty feet away, plainly in deep disgrace! “What are you doing there, sir?” I yelled. “Mr. Walsh has contrived to land me here, and now suggests that I shall walk three miles back along a most infernal track, and then on an unknown distance to camp, in the dark!” he fairly bellowed; “get me out of this!” By this time it was raining steadily. “The only way that I can bring you over is by making rafts,” I yelled; “and by the time I get back, and the rafts are made, it will be late at night. Can you swim?” “Yes.” “The damned place has alligators,” whispered Elliott. “That’s all right, Elliott; you and I are going over with the detachment to fetch him. Strip!” And I yelled again to the Governor, “We are coming for you, sir!”

Then Elliott and I, together with all the police, swam across. When we landed at the other side, we found a naked representative of his Majesty, accompanied by an equally naked P.S., waiting on the bank. Walsh was trying to make protests, but was having a literally cold shoulder turned on him. His Excellency’s escort were making bundles of his and their clothes, and tying them on their heads, my men relieved them of some, and while they were tying them on, Walsh, who was frantically undressing in an hysterical condition, squeaked, “R.M., the damned crocodiles will get him, and we shall get the sack!” “In you go first, Walsh,” I coldly replied.

“Though it was necessary for me to swim across, Monckton,” remarked his Excellency, as he dressed and glowered at Walsh, “pray tell me why it was necessary for you, Elliott, and the police to do it twice?” “To give the crocodiles a larger choice, sir,” I answered. “Not even a crocodile would be fool enough to mistake Walsh for a Judge or a Governor!”

That night we arrived at Bogi Station, a police post, where Mr. Alexander Clunas, the local big-wig, waited upon the Governor and invited the whole party to dinner; an invitation that circumstances prevented both his Excellency and myself from accepting. The remainder of the party, however, went, with somewhat ill results! The reason for my being unable to accept Clunas’ invitation was that I had to attend one of my carriers, who was very ill with measles. At two in the morning my poor man died, game to the last, and so long as a flicker of strength remained, faintly smiling his thanks for any little attention paid to him.

A few minutes after his death I heard the distant bellowing of a huge voice uplifted in song, and correctly guessed it was the “tea party” returning home up the hill through the gardens, and judging by the voices, in a lamentable state—

came through the night in Bruce’s bull voice. Then, as the noise got nearer, there came crashing sounds of heavy bodies falling into banana trees and sugar-cane, mingled with exhortations from the police and European curses. “Shove, corporal, shove!” came the voice of Sergeant Antony. “I am shoving, shoving strongly, but I can’t shove a whole bullock alone,” snarled the corporal. Then came further crashes, and the sound of panting, labouring men. “Better carry him,” a suggestion by a private. “Wontsh be carried. Wontsh go home till morning.” Bruce was getting musical again. His Excellency was awakened by the riot, and came out to me. “What is all this, Monckton?” he asked severely. “I imagine, sir, it is the return of the tea party. I think you had better not hear or see anything,” I replied. “Disgraceful!” said Robinson, as he snorted and went back to bed.

Then Manning appeared, supported by two police, his arms round their necks and theirs round his waist; while a third pushed behind. “This is a damned nice drunken state to return in, with the Governor present,” I said, as the police held him up as an exhibit to me. “Not drunksh, ill, verysh ill,” he squeaked feebly. “Thinksh got measles.” “Undress him, and shove him into bed,” I told the police. Then a heaving, struggling, revolving mass of about six police appeared, dragging and shoving the unwieldy bulk of Bruce. “Don’t make such an infernal noise, Bruce,” I said; “if you rouse out the Governor you will get hell, and you are disturbing my sick. I am surprised at you; I thought you had a head.” Bruce pulled himself together in some marvellous manner known only to himself, and I managed with the help of the police to get him quietly into a hammock. “Where is Walsh?” I demanded. Bruce smiled fatuously and snored. “Mr. Walsh, the two store-keepers, and the engineer of the Bulldog launch, are all under the table; Mr. Bruce told us to lay them there like sardines,” said Sergeant Antony. “All right,” I answered, “tell the sentry to call me at the first peep of dawn,” and then turned in.

At daylight I routed out the erring ones, gave them a strong dose of bromide and calomel (they did not know about the calomel), and sent them off to swim in the river, then to go on to the store where they could get shaved, and where I promised to send them clean shirts and things. “You, Bruce, are inspecting the pay sheets and returns of the Bogi detachment. You, Manning, are making arrangements for me for the burial of my dead man. Don’t come back until after breakfast, and remember your lies; also try to look as sober as you can. Walsh can stop away until the evening.”

“Where are Bruce and Manning?” asked his Excellency, as we met at breakfast. “I must take action of some sort over their disgraceful conduct of last night.” “Don’t know anything about it officially, sir,” I said, “they will appear in a presentable state in about an hour, with plausible lies to account for their absence. As a matter of fact, I sent them in the cold, damp dawn to dree their weird in the river. They have been through a devil of a time lately, and old Clunas would make an Archbishop drunk; they will be sorry enough for themselves when the bolus I have given them gets in its work.” Some time later the culprits appeared, looking wonderfully fresh, considering everything. “Where have you been so early, Commandant?” asked Robinson. “Auditing the pay sheets of the local detachment, sir,” promptly answered the unrepentant prodigal unwinkingly. “And you, Manning?” “The R.M. was rather tired this morning, sir, and I went to make some arrangements for him about the burial of the dead man,” lied Manning. Robinson stared at the pair of them for a few seconds, then, taking his stick, went off for a walk in the gardens.

“Did he believe us?” asked Bruce. “Of course not, you asses!” I said, “he both saw and heard you last night; besides, I told him all this morning. But he is pretending to believe you in order to avoid having to take official notice. Why didn’t you two fools stick to lager?” “Clunas had such a feed for us, turkey, goose, ham, bottled asparagus, and real potatoes,” said Bruce. “All right,” I interrupted, “I know what Clunas’ feeds are like; get to the drinks.” “You need not be so blank pious,” growled Bruce; “if you had been there you would not have come home at all, you would have stopped under the table with Walsh!” “You are a slanderous and ungrateful brute, Bruce!” I replied. “What did you drink?” “Clunas had some bottled cocktails, and insisted upon our having one each as an aperitif; then he made us have another to prevent the first feeling lonely; then at the feed we asked for lager beer. ‘Lager be damned!’ said Clunas, ‘this is no Methodist Sunday School!’ and shoved a pint bottle of still Burgundy in front of us. When we got to coffee he gave us a fine old liqueur brandy, and then he insisted upon showing us how his father brewed punch. By God! Clunas’ father must have been a strong man! That punch would make an elephant drunk! I don’t know how many glasses we had, but Manning went and lay outside and was sick, and I stuck to my guns until I had them all under the table, and then I came away.” For a few days after this there was a distinct chill in his Excellency’s manner towards the erring ones!

From Bogi we went down the Kumusi River in whaleboats and canoes, meeting on our way one Ambushi, the chief of a Kumusi tribe and a village constable, whom I at once arrested. “I have a little list of nine recent murders by that man,” I told the Governor; “he is one of the most dangerous thugs in New Guinea, and always manages to bamboozle that weak ass Hislop. I have sent this man message after message, that unless he mended his ways I should hang him on his own cocoanut tree, and the only notice he has taken is to add yet another crime to his list. One of his most recent performances was the deliberate and cold-blooded murder of a child of ten years old, who was staying with its mother in his village. The old blackguard had some guests at a feast; he had plenty of pig, dog, and fish, but that wasn’t good enough; so he called to the unsuspecting woman to bring her boy up to him, and when she obeyed he dashed out the child’s brains before the mother, and added them to the menu. The woman knew it was useless going to Hislop, so she sent to me through Sergeant Barigi. I don’t believe the old reprobate is ever without human meat.”

“Ah! Mr. Ambushi!” I remarked to that worthy, “I have been long in coming, but I have come now, and a strong rope, a long drop, and your own cocoanut tree is your fate! And I have a little list of some of your friends who are due for seven years’ hard labour.” “Only I can hang, Monckton,” said the Governor. “Yes, sir,” I said, “and when you have heard the evidence that I shall produce, you will be only too anxious to exercise that right.” We reached the beach, and I sent for the witnesses; when they heard that Ambushi was safely in custody, they were only too anxious to come. I sent Ambushi before the Judge on three separate and distinct charges of murder fully proved; I also sent a list of other murders I was bringing against him, without counting such minor crimes as robbery with violence, abduction, rape, and assault! The Judge heard the cases, then he told me to stop. “I can hang the man three times over already,” he said, “and he has richly deserved it in each case.” Ambushi was then sentenced to death. “I want to make certain, sir, that he does hang instead of having his sentence commuted by Executive Council at the last minute, so I shall keep my list, and have another go at him if he escapes the death penalty.” “The last decision as to the Royal clemency lies with me as administrator,” replied his Excellency. “Ambushi shall be hanged; and furthermore he shall be hanged, as you promised, on his own cocoanut tree in his own village.”

The final scene took place in Ambushi’s village some weeks later. A wet, dull morning, the Kumusi rolling by in heavy yellow flood, a launch containing a white-faced ship’s officer, engineer, and seamen, hanging on to the bank, a crowd of sullen natives, silent and watchful, and myself shivering with fever, holding a warrant in my hand, whilst a ring of the North-Eastern constabulary, with bayonets fixed, stood round a cocoanut tree, to which was attached an ominous-looking cross-piece with two dangling ropes; a sergeant, with a sharpened tomahawk, sat on the cross-piece. One noose was adjusted round Ambushi’s waist, a file of constabulary seized the other end, and Ambushi swung up until his shoulders touched the cross-beams, where the sergeant fitted the second noose round his neck. “All clear, sir!” called the sergeant, raising his tomahawk. “Cut, sergeant!” Down fell the tomahawk on the rope round his waist and exit Ambushi. “Oh, people of the Kumusi, take warning by the fate of Ambushi and do no murder!” called Barigi, as the launch swung into the swollen river, and we hastened away from the spot.