Mail Day In Wau

By “One Fella”

EVERYONE knows now Australians in isolated towns gather to greet the weekly mail train or mail car. Here, in Wau, in inland New Guinea, we are mostly Australians; and we assemble in the same way to greet the aeroplane which connects with the mail-steamer, across the mountains at Port Moresby.

No bush train ever caused such a fuss as the arrival from Port Moresby of the three-engined Ford, with passengers and mails.

Days before, all sources of informa tion are consulted by the public for the date of arrival of the Burns, Philp boat at Port Moresby. On the actual day, the requests become more exacting. They want not merely the day, but the hour of the plane’s arrival at Wau.

As the time draws near, all eyes are ever and again turned skywards, searching for a speck on the horizon. Ears are finely tuned for the faintest distant hum.

Suddenly, someone will say, “Hush, I think I hear her!” All listen; but as the sound becomes plainer, and is distin

guished only as the tenor drone of a rank and file machine, they look accusingly at the speaker, as though to say, “Fancy con fusing that with the basso profundo of the Ford!”

Then, without warning, she sweeps over the ridge from the south-south-west, skimming the buildings and shaking them to their foundations.

That low swoop is the signal for Cus toms officials and friends to gather on the ’drome; and, if the ’plane arrives about noon, as she usually does, when business places are closed for lunch, all Wau is seen on the ’drome, while the machine is yet circling lower and lower, preparatory to landing.

As she taxies up the ’drome, with en gines roaring, and the wind from the pro pellers carrying everything before it, the landing stage at Guinea Airways’ depot is crowded. “I wonder who’s on board” is the question on everyone’s face.

The engines slow down with spluttering and back-firing, and the propellers cease revolving. A native boy hurries forward and opens the door of the ’plane, and the crowd press closer, full of curiosity.

As they make their way to the Customs table, the air-mail passengers have to run the gauntlet of many appraising eyes.

A group of miners greet a returning colleague. “Hey, Bill, you’ve put on a bit o’ condition! Aw, well, you’ll soon lose it tearing over these hills!”

A speculator, quietly watching the scene, quickens his interest as he sees Mr. ——alight. He would like to know what busi ness had taken him away, for he controls half a dozen “shows” here, and his opinion carries weight on the Exchange.

Jim —- causes a stir among the young people by presenting a new wife to them.

After they are out of hearing, someone says, “Pretty, isn’t she?” —hoping to be contradicted, and at the same time re sorting to her make-up compact.

“Never knew he was even engaged” re marks another young lady, wistfully.

Mrs. Blank’s new baby, secure in the arms of its mother, goes the round of the women. “Thought I’d better have him in Australia” she is telling them. “Nothing like giving them a good start in life!”

Those who are total strangers are closely observed. Their names, business, history, have already become of paramount im portance to Wau-ites, and in due course will provide topics for afternoon-bridge gossip. If any newcomer has a secret he might as well make a clean breast of it now. Before Wau’s more intrepid “Nosey Parkers,” secrets are as naught. They already are glancing at the passenger list for the names of the new arrivals.

The passengers lose no time in getting to their destination —usually one or other of the hotels, for a start. Hire cars are at their beck and call, just as at an ordinary railway station, and soon all is quiet on the 'drome.

A new arrival looks around at the scenic grandeur and remarks to his Wau com panion: “What beautiful mountains!” His friend grimly replies; “Yes, beautiful, and monotonous! ”

Mr. A. D. Ewing, of Messrs. Burns, Philp and Co. Ltd.’s branch at Rabaul, New Guinea, has been transferred to Papua to be accountant at the Port Moresby office.

Mr. F. E. Williams, Papuan Government Anthropologist, has just had a new volume entitled “Papuans of the Trans- Fly” published by the Clarendon Press, England. The book deals in authorita tive and interesting manner with the na tives in the western section of Papua, with particular attention to their social organisation and mythology.