Murder In Papua

Two Acts In a Probable Three-Act Tragedy

•THE first act occurred in Papua some * seven or eight years ago.

A native, called in this story K., left his Fly River village in a canoe accom panied by his wife with the intention of going to a neighbouring mission station.

As they floated down the huge river, on whose banks so many of Papua’s fier cest cannibal tribes have passed their allotted span, they came to a little side stream, winding beneath overhanging foliage towards a grove of palms. K suggested that they go in and get some coconuts, and the pair paddled up the creek and followed it till well away from any observation from the main river.

Some distance up, they left the canoe and penetrated further into the solitude of the jungle, the w-fe leading.

Suddenly, as they picked their way through long grass and scrub, K. raised the axe he was carrying and brought it down on the unsuspecting woman inflict ing frightful wounds on the back of her head. She fell, and her husband, with a view to completing his horrible deed, gave her a parting blow or two, and re turned alone to the canoe.

K. had thus committed a murder of a particularly revolting character, and now he set about devising some tale to ac count for his wife’s disappearance that

would at the same time clear him of any suspicion of being concerned in it.

The very nature of the country, the deeply-placed muddy creek, the sloping banks of slime, the water, half-salty, half fresh, and the river murmuring hardby in the sunlight, in contrast with the sil ence and the eternal shade that covered the inlet, suggested the most plausible explanation that any one could think of alligators.

For this type of country is the true home of saurians. and the toll they take of human life is a matter of common knowledge.

He chose a smooth, muddy slope and arranged on its tell-tale surface all the signs of a desperate struggle. No doubt, any of that observant tribe of sleuths who figure in True Detective Stories could have exnosed at once the fraud had they oxamined the spot: for it was K’s own footsteps that were on this natural canvas, the work of K’s hands that fashioned the tracks of the saurian killer as it attacked «nd over name its victim and K’s half-educated mind that conceived the idea of laying a scrap of the woman’s clothing at this place of supposed tragedy.

Thus did the human reptile strive to fasten his guilt on his reptilian prototype.

When he arrived, alone, at the mis sion station, his tale was naturally be lieved, and a deeply concerned search party returned w.ith him to the scene of the alligator’s misdeed.

Fate, however, dogs the track of evil doers, especially such amateurs in crime

concealment as K.. and brought him to book in spite of his tale.

A party of natives, passing through the bush, heard the unfortunate woman’s groans and, cutting their way through thickets towards the sounds, discovered her with her head almost battered to a pulp. They moved her to the village; and when K. returned, in the guise of a sor rowing widower, he was confronted with his ghastly handiwork.

Shortly after this the woman died, and K. was arrested. He stood his trial for murder at the nearest Government station.

Incredible as it appears, the killer came in for a measure of symnathy from the public when he faced his judges, regardless of the fact that a more das tardly fi-ime, increased by a determined attempt to escane the consequences could hardly be imagined. This killing seems to detach itself from the usual run of Papuan murders, which are often com mitted in the heat of some uncontroll able savage impulse, in the excitement and danger of a raid, or in return for some injury which perhaps in its way merited the crude justice of savage com munities. It was something more than

the barbarian’s blood lust. It was the crime of a Deeming, planned in advance and concealed in the cleverest way that a man of his limited intelligence was capable of. K. had had some schooling, and should have been educated out of the crude impulses of the genuine savage.

There is a tendency in Papua to treat crime by “anthropological” methods— that is to say, by humanitarian methods —a commendable idea so long as it is recognised that exceptions will be met with and treated accordingly. And this was an obvious exception.

Possibly the sentence of three years’ imprisonment passed on to K. for the

murder of his wife was the result of anthropological considerations; but, be that as it may, that was what was meted out to him. He served his sentence and was duly returned to his old life, a free man.

THE second act is laid in Torres Strait in 1936.

K. was then employed as a Papuan in dentured labourer on a shelling lugger attached to the Thursday Island fleet, under a Japanese diver and crew.

One day, on the lugger, a big king-fish was caught on the towline, and the Japanese started to haul him in. The big fish fought gamely for life, and any one who has ever seen a king-fish put up the final struggle for existence knows the confusion and disturbance he can make on the deck of a small boat in a high sea.

One of the men had armed himself with an axe, as usual, to despatch the catch, but the fish got out of hand, hurled himself about with tremendous force, and the weapon was dropped.

By some means or other, K. was hit by the fish and, thinking this had been done on purpose by one of the other men, he picked up the axe and attacked the first man handy—proving how little his former punishment had driven out his murderous instincts. Fortunately, the Japanese outnumbered the Papuans by five to two, and the man with the up raised axe was quickly seized and dis armed.

A man who reacts so violently to a trivial accident should not be at large when he has already given cause to re ceive a life sentence. Chance, and the prompt action taken, alone prevented another act of homicide by the man who killed his wife. 1 The case was brought before the authorities on Thursday Island, and K. was deported to his own country.

Lenient treatment for attempted mur der; but here it may have been argued that no great harm was done, and the fact that K. was the author of a previous murder was unknown. The police were greatly surprised when someone, who had been present at the previous trial, told them that the deportee was one of Papua’s most dastardly murderers.

And now we await the coming of the third act.

When and. where will K. commit his next, and (it is to be hoped) his final murder? —TEE AI.