But progress was made, although gradually. We built the house roughly square, about fifteen feet by fifteen feet, with a floor of bamboo, walls covered with ataps (woven mats made of sago leaves I had bought from the natives), and a roof made from the cadjans I had purchased in Tidore. I constructed a small bamboo table at which I could work, with an atap secured upon it to provide a smooth surface. I then positioned it so that I would have a view of the sea through the door. Next to the house we built a bench and another table, with a slanted roof above it, where meals could be prepared and where we could skin and prepare collected birds, mammals, and insects. We cleared away brush and a few trees to allow the breeze from the bay to cool the house. Finally, I had my boys assist with moving my baggage and stores inside. I was especially grateful for their help with this, as each item had to be hoisted up an eight-foot ladder.
The height of my house caused me some concern. I am a rather restless sleeper and have even occasionally awakened only to find myself in a place some distance from where I began my night’s sleep. Fearing that I might stumble about in a nocturnal state of half-sleep and fall to the ground, I made a rope latch on the door to secure it at night.
We completed my house yesterday afternoon. By that time I had already learned a few words of the language of the village, and I dismissed my boys for the day and asked them to return in the morning. I then constructed a more permanent bedstead of bamboo, attached my mosquito curtain, and applied palm oil to each of the legs to impede the ants. Thus I experienced a most restful night, having well established myself in my own house.
This morning, as I had grown to expect, my boys arrived gradually, having no apparent inclination to promptness or labor. I then set about teaching them the skills of collecting and preparing specimens. I determined that Amborn, the oldest, was best suited to handle a gun, and I taught him to shoot. First I instructed him on pouring in the powder in amounts appropriate for shooting balls at animals such as opossums or tree kangaroos, and for shooting number eight shot at birds. When we proceeded to shooting, the noise of this brought a good portion of the villagers to watch, and they were greatly entertained by watching Amborn try to hit the targets I provided.
In order to teach my other boys, named Miok and Loo, to skin birds, I needed specimens. This was of no difficulty, because as soon as Amborn became skilled at hitting targets of paper and wood, he took it upon himself to shoot every bird he saw. Soon I had a small collection of common birds, and I had to take the gun from Amborn’s hands to avoid having more than needed.
The skinning of birds hardly needed to be taught, as these natives were already skilled at hunting and preparing their game for eating. Hence I needed only to demonstrate how to carefully scrape all vestiges of flesh away to prevent spoiling, and to fasten tags upon which I could then write the appropriate identifying information.
In the coming days, I shall go into the forest with my boys for my first attempts at procuring more rare and unusual specimens.
4
March 6, 1868
I must first provide some contextual foundation before I describe the events of the previous two weeks. As I have said before, the feathers of certain birds, as well as the skins of some mammals, are used throughout the Malay Archipelago as articles of commerce. The chiefs of coastal villages acquire dried skins of various parrots, cockatoos, and particularly Birds of Paradise from inland mountain tribes and give them to Bugis and Ceram traders in exchange for goods such as knives, arrack, and tobacco. Also, since the north coast tribes are under the rule of the Sultan of Tidore, a certain number of Paradise Bird skins are owed to the Sultan each year as a form of tribute. The local villagers, therefore, have a somewhat hostile attitude regarding the collection and trading of feathers and skins in the area near their village. I can imagine two reasons they might have adopted this attitude. First, since they trade goods to the inland tribes for these feathers and skins, they might (fairly) presume that any person, me specifically, who buys these directly from the inland tribes will pay a higher price, thus resulting in a higher price being demanded by the inland tribes at all times. Second, they might (incorrectly) presume that I will take the items I purchase to the Sultan, who in turn will then continue to demand more of such goods for his annual payment of tribute. Being naturally lazy and disinclined to engage in labor beyond the minimum necessary, it is no surprise that they strongly resist any action that might result in greater demands upon them.
Having taught my boys to shoot and prepare specimens, on February 24 I had them accompany me on my first extensive collecting excursion away from the village. We shot a few nice birds, including several types of pigeons, honeysuckers, and parrots, as well as common small and plain varieties. Upon our return, these were skinned and prepared to my specifications.
Feeling as if things were going quite well, including my ability to communicate, on the following day I explained to my boys that I wished to be taken to the nearest tribe known to collect Birds of Paradise, so that I might purchase some. I had not yet collected any of these most desired birds and hoped that the area near Humboldt Bay would produce species new to European collections. I was careful not to mention this request until the day for which I had planned this excursion, so that my boys would be obliged to do this before they could speak of it to the other villagers. When they understood my request, they glanced at each other uneasily but did not protest.
The walk to the inland village required some climbing, but it was not exceedingly difficult, and we arrived after about two hours, in which I would guess we travelled three miles. The villagers there looked similar to those of my host tribe, although their ornamentations included very few metals or elements that would need to be brought from more civilized places. They gathered around me to inspect my clothing, pale skin, and spectacles, in much the same way that Penapul’s tribe had done the day I had arrived at Humboldt Bay. They probably had even fewer opportunities to see white men, if indeed they had seen any at all. We were guided to one of the houses, and there I saw human skulls hanging from the rafters. I wondered if these were collected from the same tribes that were enemies of Penapul’s tribe. Or perhaps some of them actually were from Penapul’s tribe, as I had come to realize in recent days, due to my discussions with Amborn, that the occasional raiding of villages seemed to be a natural part of life here, and was not an act that would preclude friendly trading between tribes.
These villagers regularly provided feathers and skins to the Humboldt Bay tribe, who in turn exchanged some of them for goods from the Bugis traders and gave some of them to the Sultan of Tidore as annual payment of tribute. When my boys explained to them what I wished to purchase, they were delighted, and soon I had numerous dried skins of Paradise Birds from which to choose. Some of the birds were poorly prepared and not suitable for my needs, and all but one of them were the common yellow type. The other was a magnificent specimen, of a type that I thought might be new to science. It had a head of yellow and black, but the body was covered in feathers of rust brown and orange, with the most remarkable lengthened, bright orange feathers protruding from the body behind the wings. This skin was well preserved, likely because the Papuans knew it would bring a higher price. I selected three of the common type and the rare orange one. Not knowing what goods the natives would value, I had brought a variety of items, but they were most interested in knives and choppers, and were quite willing to accept only a few of these for the birds. I had Amborn ask them if they would be willing to collect more types of Paradise Birds for me to purchase from them, and this resulted in enthusiastic nodding of their heads and waving of their new knives and choppers.
I was pleased with the day’s success and believed this to be a promising trading arrangement with the mountain tribe.
But this was not to be, for on the next day, Penapul, having heard the circumstances of my trading with the neighboring tribe, arrived at my house with a group of tribesmen, including my three boys. He was in a frightful state of agitat
ion, and my first thought was that they had come to add my skull to their collection. Penapul repeatedly pointed in the direction of the mountain village, indicating his disapproval of my previous day’s trading. He then turned to Amborn, who was now making an effort to avoid looking directly at me, apparently torn between the words of his chief and his loyalty to me. After some excited words between them, Amborn explained to me, with words and gesticulations, that he was to fetch the birds I had procured the day before and turn them over to Penapul. I was reluctant to allow him to do this, but I had no intention of giving up my head for such a cause, as I was quite fond of it.
At this point the lieutenant and soldier from Tidore arrived. I explained in Malay what was happening. The two men then confronted the natives, threatening them with their guns. The dispute was quickly becoming alarming, which was likely made worse by their incapability to properly communicate. Finally I had to place myself between them to protect the men whose purpose was actually to protect me. I simply stood between them with my hands held before me, hoping the natives would recognize the respect due to a civilized man, until things became quiet. Reluctantly, I went into my house and selected two of the common yellow Paradise Birds and gave them to Penapul, hoping he did not know of the other two. He nodded at this, apparently satisfied, and soon he and his tribesmen left me alone with the lieutenant and soldier. The lieutenant told me it would be best if he and his man were to guard my house whenever I left it again to go collecting, as the Papuans would surely try to steal my belongings upon the first opportunity to do so. I rather doubted the threat to be that extreme, but I agreed, as the two men had no other purpose here but to protect and assist me, and this would keep them safely occupied some distance from the villagers, thus avoiding further conflict.
I made a few moderately successful collecting excursions in the area near my house during the two days following, and on the third day I instructed Amborn to again take me to the mountain village. I had every legal right to do this, with the proper letter of authority, and after several days of pondering the injustice of my situation, I made the decision with confidence. To my surprise, Amborn agreed to take me there. I asked the lieutenant to guard my house, and we then departed. However, when we arrived at the village, there were no friendly greetings, and we were told they had not been successful hunting and therefore had no specimens to trade. When asked if they would have some soon, they just shook their heads. I could only assume that Penapul’s tribesmen had gone to the mountain tribe to warn them to avoid trading with me. This would explain why Amborn was willing to take me there.
I returned to the Humboldt Bay village frustrated and with no specimens other than a few common birds we had shot while walking. To add to my difficulties, I arrived at my house to discover it abandoned by the lieutenant and soldier. Thinking they might be sleeping or eating, I went to the hut where they resided, but they were not there, nor were their belongings. I returned to my house to enlist the help of Amborn, who was busy skinning the birds we had shot. I took him to the lieutenant’s hut and used my limited vocabulary to tell him I wished to know their whereabouts. I then took him to find the chief, and with much gesticulating and talking, I was told that a trader had arrived while I was inland, and that the lieutenant and soldier had decided to return to Tidore aboard the trader’s prau. This explanation seemed to me to be suspicious. Firstly, the lieutenant had said nothing to me in regards to leaving at the next opportunity. Secondly, it seemed unusual that the trader would arrive, conduct his business, and then depart within such a brief time. But no amount of questioning could produce any further explanation that might settle my doubts.
In the days following, it seemed as if many of the villagers went to some trouble to avoid my presence, often looking at the ground when passing by me, or even turning to walk a different path when seeing me approaching.
In the days leading up to today, I adequately occupied my time by doing some collecting near my house, returning frequently to be sure my property was not being stolen. Continuing this limited habit, however, would never have allowed me to substantially expand my collection, and so I had nearly succeeded in convincing myself that my fears were unfounded, and that I should again begin travelling inland to collect.
My fears, however, were rekindled today. I paid a visit to the chief, Penapul, to purchase some bamboo and wood poles to build next to my house a small hut that would be better suited for preparing meals. Upon entering his house my attention was drawn, as it usually was, to the impressive collection of human skulls hanging from the eaves. On previous visits I had counted eight, at least four more than any of the other houses I had visited. But today there were ten, two of which appeared to be freshly prepared, with gleaming white bones and bits of red tissue still attached in various hard-to-clean notches and crevices.
I will endeavor to find evidence that the two new skulls in Penapul’s hut belonged to my men from Tidore, but I suspect that such evidence would provide me no further comfort or protection. For that, I will continue to have a loaded gun at my side.
5
April 4, 1868
My assistant, Charles Newman, arrived two days ago on the Hester Helena. When the ship arrived, the villagers proceeded to give it the same unfriendly and threatening welcome they had given me, but I was able to convince them that more gifts would be given if they would yield.
Charles stepped from the ship’s tender to the shore wearing a black coat over a black waistcoat and white shirt, looking altogether uncomfortable and misplaced. Although thirty-four years old, his diminutive stature, wavy black hair, and sprightly bearing made him appear much younger. The indigenes were curious about Charles, but if they held suspicions about his purpose here, they did not reveal them, nor did they threaten him once he was upon the shore. When they surrounded him to inspect his strange clothing, he nearly disappeared in their midst, though I occasionally glimpsed his fearful eyes as he attempted to look to me for reassurance that he was not about to be run through with a chopper or spear.
At last the natives gave way, and I was able to embrace him and then shake his hand, which I did most vigorously.
“I am as pleased as all creation to stand at last on the shore of New Guinea.” Charles said. “I trust that things have gone well for you here.”
“Well, I still have my skull, at least for now,” said I.
He frowned at this, so I laughed and told him we would discuss it later. We then occupied ourselves with unloading his possessions, and I talked for some time with the schooner’s captain.
Even I can scarcely believe that, as a man of good breeding and some intelligence, I did not load my things onto the ship and travel with Charles to a less threatening location. Indeed I did consider it, and the ship’s captain even encouraged me to do so. But I was overcome by an odd and perhaps unwise sense of resolve to surmount the adversity of my current station. I felt that if I were to give up and leave Humboldt Bay, I would be forced to consider a failure the mission I had dreamed and planned for so long. And I was encouraged by the unencumbered enthusiasm of my dear assistant, Charles, who seemed even more delighted to be here than I had been when I first arrived.
The villagers gradually retreated to their houses and previous tasks, leaving us alone by the shore. With Charles at my side, I watched the Hester Helena sail from Humboldt Bay, hoping we would still be alive upon its return three years hence.
“Sir,” Charles said, breaking the silence, “you are the author of my delight. I am here at your will, and I can scarcely express enough gratitude. Since I was a boy I have dreamed of sharing in the glory seen by stalwart explorers of such wild places.” He turned to face the inland and raised his hands. “And this, sir, is the wildest of them all.”
I laughed, having nearly forgotten the extent of Charles’ enthusiasm, kindness of disposition, and fondness for well-spoken words. “It is I who would thank you,” said I. “My stay here has been less than fruitful, but with your assistance I will soon reme
dy the situation.”
Charles straightened his back, as if to become taller. “Sir, by my honor, which is bright and unsullied, I am at your service.”
I introduced Charles to my boys, and we had them move his baggage into the house, which was now getting rather full. We then found Penapul and gave him a bottle of arrack in exchange for some bamboo, which we used to construct a bedstead for Charles, similar to my own. I insisted that Charles sleep in my house until we had the opportunity to build a second house adjacent to it.
Charles had brought me several letters from my mother and father, and from my beloved Lindsey. Before I had left England, Lindsey had agreed to marry me upon my return, which was to be no more than four years after my departure, and I took great pleasure in reading her letters. There was even a letter from Alfred Wallace, offering me encouragement and a few words of advice that he had forgotten to mention when we had met. Charles then told me, with characteristic humor and oratory skill, of his travels. He had actually enjoyed his time on each of the ships, indicating that he was rather more suited to life upon the sea than I had been, which made me feel less troubled over purchasing a servant’s ticket for him.
Only after I had sent my boys home for the day, and it was late in the evening, did I finally explain all the details of my disagreeable situation to him. I found his words regarding this to be encouraging.
Note: When transcribing this notebook, I determined that writing some of the conversations exactly as they took place would help readers understand the decisions that were made leading up to subsequent fateful events. Below is the conversation that took place after I had explained to Charles all that had happened. Due to Charles’ penchant for colloquialisms, I have added, parenthetically, a few translations.
Diffusion Box Set Page 89
