Papua

by Peter Watt

  ‘Not a real lot,’ Jack grinned widely. ‘I doubt that any government men would be wanting to head into Kuku country in a hurry. I heard in Moresby that the district officer up that way, Cecil Levien, copped an arrow in the chest early this year when he was on a patrol out in the Morobe area not far from where George and I were camped. It’s rough country and crawling with those dangerous little bastards. But I know between us we can handle them if they get a bit pesky.’

  Paul rose from his desk. ‘I will speak to Karin tonight,’ he said rubbing his forehead. ‘I will give you a decision in the morning.’

  ‘Every day counts,’ Jack warned. ‘We need to be getting supplies together as quickly as we can.’

  Paul nodded and walked towards the house. Jack watched him go and was glad that he was not married. As a single man he could pack up and leave. For a moment he reflected guiltily on the existence of his son. But he was able to console himself that if anything were to happen to him, he knew that Karin would look after Lukas.

  That evening, as Paul and Karin lay side by side under the mosquito net, Paul confessed the dire financial straits that they were in and the losses the plantation was incurring. He could sense how tense Karin was at the prospect that they may have to walk off the plantation, and the knowledge that their savings were almost gone.

  ‘What will we do?’ she asked tearfully. ‘I love this place.’

  ‘Jack has a plan,’ Paul said after taking a deep breath. ‘It is guaranteed to make a small fortune for us all.’

  Immediately he had planted the seed, Karin sat up and stared at her husband in the dark.

  ‘What plan?’ she asked in a tone that left Paul in no doubt that he would have to be very careful how he answered. As much as Karin liked Jack, she was still a female protecting those she loved.

  ‘There is a gold lease that Jack has back in New Guinea,’ Paul lied. ‘He thinks that, with a bit of effort, we could make it pay. But he needs my help, and whatever supplies we can get together, to mine it.’

  ‘Why hasn’t Jack mentioned this before?’

  ‘It never came up before,’ Paul replied lamely, hoping that Karin would not cross-examine him any further. He knew he could not continue lying to her. She had a knack of knowing when he was not telling her the truth. ‘But it could be the answer to all our problems.’

  In her despair Karin fell back against the sheets. ‘How long would you be gone for?’ she asked quietly.

  Paul breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that his wife did not hear it. Her question implied that she had conceded to his suggestion. ‘I would say we would be gone for four to six months,’ he guessed.

  ‘That is a long time,’ Karin replied and hugged Paul to her. ‘I did not imagine that we would ever be apart again. The war was terrible enough but I suspect that this is also dangerous.’

  ‘Not really,’ Paul said holding Karin gently against his chest. ‘We will be home before Christmas and you can roast a goose for us.’

  ‘We don’t have any geese,’ Karin half laughed and half cried. ‘It will have to be a roast pig.’

  ‘Then I can tell Jack first thing in the morning that I have your blessing on our venture?’

  ‘You know that I trust your decisions, my husband,’ she said. ‘I just wanted you to be around when our child is born. But I also know that our child will not have a home unless you do what you must do.’

  Paul stroked his wife’s hair until she fell asleep in his arms. He dreaded the thought of going back into the jungle but at the same time felt the strange lure of the gold. The very word was calling to him in irresistibly seductive tones. What was it about the yellow metal that caused men and women to risk everything to seek it? He was just learning the answer now. He knew that he would miss his family with an aching heart. But he also knew that Jack would miss his son in the same way. The lure of gold or not, this was their only chance to stave off losing what little he had left in his life. It was a desperate gamble under any circumstances. But he trusted Jack and knew that Jack trusted him. They were mates and would watch each other’s backs.

  It took two days to arrange stores for the expedition: flour, tinned meat, sugar, tea, salt and coffee (at Paul’s insistence). Then there were medical supplies, ammunition for the rifles and shotguns as well as adzes, axes and a few trade goods. The final task was to find a boat to convey them around the eastern tip of Papua and into the Huon Gulf. Jack rode to Port Moresby and returned a few days later in a whaleboat powered by a small steam engine. It had once belonged to a Lutheran missionary before the war. He’d sold the horse to help pay for it.

  One of the native labourers spotted the whaleboat chugging towards the shore and shouted to Karin who was watering her precious flowers beside the house. She dropped the watering can and walked down to the beach, shielding her eyes against the glare on the calm seas. She could just make out Jack. And beside him was a tall, well-built young Papuan.

  ‘All I could get was this,’ Jack shouted as the boat slid onto the beach below the plantation. ‘She’ll be right. It will get us to the Gulf okay.’

  Karin prayed that he was right. Jack was always optimistic and cheerful in contrast to her more pessimistic and dour husband. It made for a good partnership, she grudgingly admitted to herself, as Jack bounded up the beach and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  ‘Don’t look so worried,’ he laughed. ‘I wouldn’t dare let anything happen to Paul or I would have to account to you. This is Dademo,’ he added as the young man clambered from the boat with a shy but broad smile. ‘He is going to keep an eye on things while Paul and I are off making our fortunes.’

  ‘You are right, Mr Kelly,’ Karin replied in a stern voice. ‘If anything happens to Paul . . .’ Her voice quavered on the verge of tears and Jack felt awkward.

  ‘It’s going to be all right, old girl,’ he said gently. ‘We will come back as the kings of Papua.’

  Paul strode down to join them at the beach and greeted Dademo with an affectionate handshake and slap on the back. He then scrutinised the whaleboat. Jack tentatively stood aside and waited for his opinion.

  ‘We will be able to stow our supplies but will need a tarpaulin to protect them against the sea.’ Almost completely ignoring the Australian he turned to Dademo. ‘I see that Sen let you go for a while,’ he said and the two men walked up the beach, discussing what Dademo’s duties would be when they were gone. He had been expecting the Papuan as Jack had said before he left for Moresby that he would talk to Sen about borrowing Dademo’s ser-vices while they were away. But as Paul walked away with Dademo, Jack knew all was not well. He turned to Karin.

  ‘He is worried about me,’ she said to his unspoken question. ‘But I have faith in you, Jack, to look after my husband.’

  With this weight thrust upon his shoulders, Jack Kelly experienced a sudden surge of doubt. He had not kept George Spencer alive. How would this situation be any different? Karin followed her husband up the white sands, leaving Jack alone to wonder just what they were getting themselves into.

  The following day Jack and Paul put to sea. Karin and the two boys watched from the beach until the little boat steamed around a small headland and out of sight. Taking the two boys by the hand she walked slowly back to the house.

  ‘When will Dad be back?’ Lukas asked, as he looked up at the woman whom he had come to accept as the most important female in his life.

  ‘That is in God’s hands,’ Karin replied quietly, and looked away lest the boys see her tears and sense her uncertainty. It seemed that she was always saying goodbye to the man she most loved in the world. And every time he left she was never sure if she would see him again. This time was no different. She could feel the baby growing inside her, and burst into tears. What if her child was born without knowing the tender love of the man who had survived so much only to be killed on this wild, uncivilised frontier at the end of the world? The two boys glanced at each other and crept away. They did not understand why Karin should be so upse
t. They had seen their fathers’ cheerful smiles and waves as the boat pulled away from the beach. To Lukas and Karl such men were indestructible.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Months passed and there was no news from the two men. Not that Karin expected any as she knew that Paul and Jack were well beyond the frontiers. But each night she would pray for their safety, pleading to God to bring them home soon. It did not matter that they may fail in their endeavours. More important was that Lukas had a father and she a husband for her son and unborn child.

  Her confinement was near and she knew it was time for Dademo to take over the running of the plantation whilst she took the day’s buggy journey to Port Moresby to have her baby delivered. She had grown to rely more and more on Dademo. He had proved an excellent manager and was respected by the local villagers who made up the labour force for the plantation. He was intelligent and had a basic but competent grasp of figures. He was also liked by the two boys who would beg him to recount the adventure he had with Paul in their search for Iris.

  Lukas felt just a little jealous of Karl whose father had so bravely gone into the jungle to search for the beautiful lady. Dademo had told them that Iris was a princess taken captive by an evil pirate. He wished that his own father could have been on the quest. Dademo had once heard a story of such an adventure and was a natural storyteller himself. But his embellishments were eagerly accepted by the two boys. In Dademo’s version Paul had actually fought with the evil pirate captain but he escaped. Needless to say he also had fought with the pirate captain’s lieutenant and killed him.

  Dademo had expressed the view that he should go with Karin on the potentially perilous journey to Port Moresby. But she had reminded him that he had the care of the plantation and the two boys to consider. He understood and helped her pack just a few personal items, and food and water for the difficult journey. The last thing Karin placed in her swag of items was Paul’s Webley & Scott revolver.

  With a final briefing to Dademo just before dawn – and dire warnings to the two boys to do what the young Papuan overseer said – she was helped into the buggy and drove from the plantation. All going well, she would see the lights of Moresby just after nightfall.

  Right on schedule three days later she gave birth to a baby girl.

  ‘Angelika,’ she murmured as she lay back in her bed in the newly constructed hospital in Moresby. ‘You are my precious little angel.’

  Three days later Karin felt strong enough to travel back to the plantation with her baby despite the warnings of the stern matron who had acted as midwife and brought Angelika into the world. Karin had told her she was temporarily without her husband because he was, as she put it, ‘somewhere up bush’. That was the way of life for women who came with their men onto the Papuan frontier. They had to be just as tough and resourceful to cope with a life so far from civilisation with its running water, stores and medical services.

  When Karin returned to the plantation she was met not only by the male workers but also their women who fussed over the little jewel with the tuft of golden hair like her mother. The baby lay crying in Karin’s arms with her little fists balled. It was a time of celebration for the labourers. The villagers killed a pig for a feast. Dademo had quietly supplied it from the master’s small herd. He did not think that Master Paul would mind it being killed before Christmas which was not long away. Karin did not go to the feast but retired to her house after the boys had poked at the little thing they most dreaded – a sister! And a very ugly one at that they both agreed.

  As she lay on her bed with her daughter beside her, it occurred to Karin that Angelika had been born on the soil of this foreign land called Papua. Her daughter was not a German but a Papuan.

  Christmas came and went without any news of Paul and Jack. Life went on and Angelika continued to thrive in the tropical environment. The two boys – when they were at home – grew used to the fact that she was the centre of attention in Karin’s life. School lessons continued whenever Karin could find the boys. And each day Karin would walk to the edge of the beach to gaze out to sea and intone her oft-repeated prayer: ‘Dear God, be merciful and bring my husband and Jack Kelly home to me.’

  Five months to the day since Paul and Jack left on their expedition into the Morobe province of New Guinea, Dademo came rushing to the house. ‘Missus,’ he yelled breathlessly, ‘Master’s boat comes.’

  Karin had been breastfeeding Angelika and immediately buttoned her blouse. She swept from the house with the confused, hungry baby bawling in her arms and hurried to the beach. Dademo and three of the plantation workers followed her. It was just on sunset and in the distance she could see the whaleboat puttering towards the shore. Karin’s blood ran cold. She could only see one figure standing at the helm, but it was too far to ascertain whether it was her husband or Jack. Two had gone out but only one returned – the words echoed in her thoughts. She gripped Angelika to her breast, almost smothering the baby until she bawled in her discomfort.

  The boat drew nearer and finally Karin could make out that the lone, bearded figure was Paul, waving his hat over his head and shouting his greetings. Karin felt the relief of having her prayers answered. But she also experienced a terrible fear that Lukas had lost his father to the wild and savage jungles.

  Unable to constrain her impatience to once again touch the face of her husband and with the baby still in her arms, Karin waded into the warm tropical waters until the sea was around her thighs, soaking the long dress she wore.

  Paul did not wait for the engine to stop and leapt into the sea, leaving the old whaleboat to find its own way to the beach. Dademo and the three workers followed Karin into the gentle surf and guided the boat to shore. Paul surfaced and waded with all his strength towards his wife. His face was an expression of absolute joy as they came together and Paul enveloped Karin and their baby daughter in his arms. They were alternately laughing and crying as they stood in the calm seas, waves lapping around them.

  ‘Your daughter’s name is Angelika,’ Karin finally got out between hugs and kisses as they babbled their love to each other.

  When finally they disengaged themselves from the embrace Paul could see the cloud come down over his wife’s face. He burst into laughter when he realised why she should be looking so glum. ‘I left Jack in Moresby,’ he said. ‘He will be back in a couple of days after he does some business with Sen.’ Karin’s expression of happiness returned. ‘And if you are wondering, you are now looking at one of the new kings of Papua,’ he added. ‘Jack did it! We are wealthier beyond your wildest imagination, my beautiful wife. You can buy a golden tiara for my little princess and a dress of silk embroidered with pearls fit for a queen such as yourself.’

  They were indeed amongst the wealthiest people in Papua. The gold was exactly where Jack knew it would be and they had wrested a small fortune from the rugged mountain creeks. In a short time the rush was on but they had been amongst the first to pick up the prize, along with a handful of other canny men of Papua.

  Two days later Jack returned to the plantation. He came with a bag full of Christmas presents for them all. It did not matter that Christmas was two months gone. They celebrated his return with a coconut frond for a Christmas tree. But for Lukas the best present of all was that his father had returned to his life.

  Part Two

  STONE

  AND STEEL

  1932–1934

  TWENTY-FOUR

  The view of Port Moresby from the deck of the Burns Philp steamer had changed very little in the years since Jack and Paul had arrived to grub out their small fortune from the Morobe gold fields almost a decade ago. Jack stood at the bow of the ship as it ploughed through the calm blue-green waters and gazed at the hills nestling the little frontier town. It was still a place of government administrators, planters, gold prospectors, missionaries and a few misfits.

  For a brief moment he thought about the time when the tall, quietly spoken Englishman George Spencer had stood on the deck of this sam
e ship and observed the town as they had steamed in. They were both younger men then, with separate dreams of finding something meaningful in their lives. George hadn’t had the chance to find his. For Jack, his dream had to wait until he and Paul Mann had forged into the jungles of the Morobe province to sluice the rivers and creeks rich in alluvial gold. And how they had found it! Anything that could be used to carry the precious nuggets and specks was utilised: empty bully beef tins, socks and as much as they could jam into their pockets. Up the rivers, Sharkeye Park and his compatriots had been doing the same, unaware of the interlopers downriver.

  The gold that had come out with Jack and Paul was smuggled back to the canny businessman Sen, who was able to convert it to cash on the black market in Singapore without the Australian authorities knowing of its existence. All told, they cleared around fifty thousand English pounds each from the transactions, with Sen taking a small percentage.

  ‘Father?’

  Jack turned to see his son striding across the deck towards him. How grown up he looked at seventeen, Jack thought with a swelling of pride. Tall like his mother’s family but with the breadth in his shoulders of his own people. He had hazel eyes and a thick crop of unruly brown hair. Although not handsome in the fashion of the Hollywood movie stars, whose faces now flickered in the film palaces of the major cities, he still had the appearance of a young man who would break a woman’s heart. But Lukas had inherited his father’s restlessness, and boarding at St Ignatius college in Sydney under the disciplined care of the Jesuit priests had not tempered his wild ways. The occasional infractions had been conveniently forgiven by his performance on the rugby field. Lukas played with a brilliance that was spoken of as having the potential for him to one day play against England and the bone crushing All Blacks of New Zealand. Jack did not understand rugby. He had grown up playing Australian Rules, a game that had much in common with the rugged Irish brand of football. But he had come to appreciate the skill required in evading a team of young men intent on grinding their opponent with the oval ball into the turf.