Paradise Plumes

By Henry Dexter

UNDOUBTEDLY, sentiment was the cause of closing- the market for plumes in Great Britain, although the agitation that brought this about was based on fallacy.

Thirty years ago, it was a common thing to read articles written by most worthy people, in which the shooting of the bird-of-paradise, the egret, and the goura pigeon, were all treated as if com parable one with the other.

Even that usually well-informed paper, “The Shooting Times,” condemned all three, until one of their correspondents pointed out that the circumstances of the shooting of the three varieties of birds were as far apart as the poles.

The egret shows its plumes during the breeding. season. To shoot them then meant that the young were left to a lingering death by starvation.

Undoubtedly, the goura needed protec tion, because the bird could be absolutely exterminated in a district in a very short time, I know of one case in which this actually occurred, a coloured missionary being responsible.

The common Raggiana (Bird of Para dise) is protected by nature. It is found in some of the most inaccessible country in the world, and the bird that carries the marketable plumes has finished breed ing. It is as great a nuisance to the breeding pairs as an old cock pigeon in a dove cote. Further, it can be found over many thousand of square miles.

While a market existed, Port Moresby was one of the points from which plumes were shipped, and some of the incidents in connection with the traffic are not without humour. , A certain coloured man—we will call him M.—who had lost part of one arm through trying to shoot a fish while the muzzle of his gun was in the water, came into Port on a canoe. He offered a bird to a man, S, who kept a small store near B.P.’s wharf.

S. had never seen a bird of the kind before. It was a magnificent specimen.

He offered M. £lO for it. This M. declined.

He pointed out that a “Sir William Mac- Gregor” was worth £6O to £7O. There were several of these in different collec tions all over the world, but his bird was—as far as he knew —absolutely unique.

M. declined the offer of £lO and left.

Just then H. (the policeman) came along.

S. called him over and informed against M.

H. walked down to the wharf, and arrived just as M. was stepping off his canoe with a bundle of washing under the stump of his arm. H, told him that he wished to search the canoe. M. raised no objection, and walked away.

On M.’s return, H. had just completed the search, and he told M. that he had been looking for a prohibited bird. M. then said he had taken it ashore with

the washing. This proved to be true.

He had also sold it, for very much more than the £lO offered by S. But the pur chaser had cause to regret the deal, when he found that the bird was a common Raggiana, artfully dyed and bleached.

Twenty years ago, Port Moresby had only one white policeman. All those that I remember, over a number of years, were popular, save H.

In those days Ryan’s Hotel was situated at the foot of Paga Hill. H. boarded there, and an individual nick named Scotty was also a boarder.

Scotty had fifteen birds.

Sitting at meals, Scotty thought that H. seemed unduly interested in him; so he changed his time for eating: and, by pure coincidence, H. changed his also.

The thing got on Scotty’s nerves.

"Why the dickens do you keep looking at me?” he said to H., and H. replied that he was just going to ask Scotty the same question.

Sure that H. was watching him, Scotty burnt his birds. After which he felt — unjustly—that H. had done him an injury.

Scotty’s two mates also had fifteen birds each: and these they desired to dispose of when the "Matunga” was alongside of the wharf, the next night.

By arrangement, the three had a violent quarrel, while H. was within hear ing. Scotty then came to H., and told him some story about his mates having treated him shabbily, and of his deter mination to get his own back. Taking H. to the beach, he removed some sand, and produced a bird wrapped in wax paper.

H. told him to replace the bird.

Next evening H. was hiding near the beach, and there he spent the night, watching, while Scotty and his mates shipped their thirty birds. Yes, thirty— because a pal of Scotty’s had retrieved the perfectly good bird that had acted as bait, directly Scotty and H. had left the beach.

Long after the collection of birds be came illegal in Papua, they were exported from Dutch New Guinea, an export duty of five shillings a head producing quite a large revenue.

Five ex-Papuans went down there, Roche, Penrose, Dressier, Jackson, and Bell. As far as I know nothing is known

of the end of Roche. I last had news of him when I was coming along the coast of Jaya ten yea rs ago. It was some time later t hat he disappeared, Tlie c i rcums tances relating to the mur( jer of the other four men has been we u told - n the PIMm hy Dr. Vernon.

Dressier was an Austrian. He was at one time j n partnership with Captain Hunter, of Port Moresby. He was in terned during the war. Later, he returned to Papua, and then went to Dutch New Guinea, his companion being Bell, an ex soldier, who was formerly a salesman in B.P.’s store in Port Moresby.

Some time after the murder of these men the R.M. at Daru (now the Hon. A. P.

Lyons) was some distance up the Fly River, and one of his police found a skull, with gold stoppings in the teeth.

The skull was shown to ‘‘Daddy Leigh, a travelling dentist. He identified three of the fillings as his own work; and the other two were recognised by a dentist near the internment camp as work he had done for Dressier.