Tropicalities

STUART CAMPBELL, formerly aviator with the Ward Williams expedition in Papua, is now engaged in an en gineering job in Australia. When in London not long ago, he lectured before the Royal Geographical Society. One of his remarks, that a bushy beard, decorated with green beetles, was a re cognised sign of manhood among certain mountain tribes in New Guinea, received much attention from London humour writers. One let himself go, rather clever ly, in this fashion: — A bushy beard. New Guinea way.

Is what a man would fain display As stamping him a real he-man Before the beauties of his clan.

And more—his beard he decorates With brightly coloured beetles (states The Lecturer) to catch the eye Of girls who may be passing by.

The Noble Savage, thus, would be At home with femininity Which now, in London, decks its hair With jewelled insects rich and rare.

No more shall Kipling’s phrase obtain Among the cultured and the vain.

Oh. East was East, and West was West, But each is now a beetle’s nest. * ♦ * II ATE works oft-times in a strange 1 manner. Take, for instance, the way in which she juggled with the life of Ivan Parker. A steward in the Paci fic Division of Pan-American Airways service, he made the first trip on the “Samoa Clipper’’, down from Honolulu to Auckland, N.Z., and was actually scheduled to go on the ill-starred trip in January that ended in her being blown to pieces when dumping fuel in mid-air after engine trouble. He was withdrawn at the last minute because Captain Mustek’s giant airboat would have been overloaded if the steward had made the flight. Such a fateful escape from death in the clouds would perhaps have coax ed another man into keeping his feet on Mother Earth in future; but not Par ker. He merely grinned and busied him self with serving coffee and hot-cakes on the “Clippers” plying between ’Frisco and Manila. At the end of July, P.A.A.’s “Hawaii Clipper”, with a crew of 10 and six passengers, disappeared en route from Guam to the Philippines. The steward on board the “Clipper” was Ivan Parker -Fate had evened the score. * * ♦ AN Australian reviewer describing a new book on Tahiti by one, Cecil Lewis, says:— “It is, admittedly, a very tourist-soiled Eden, but the remains of an Eden —none the less. It was sufficiently like the Eden of Mr. Lewis’s imagination to astonish and dazzle him, so that he writes like one who reels under the impact of some stunning blow He feels that these care free, beautiful, and somewhat indolent Tahitians had hit upon a way of life which really did ensure peace and hap piness for all”. And there is reference to “a marvellous holiday, with lots of sunshine, bathing, wine, women, and song”.

The reviewer, who apparently knows Tahiti, says; “It was in Tahiti that Mr.

Lewis took leave of his youth, and in the recording thereof he has merely tem porarily taken leave of his senses”.

However, the book will be accepted as a true record; and, in due course, the French officials in Papeete will have to deal with and chase away a few more shop-soiled old daddies, who insist that they are still young in spirit, and that the sparkle in Polynesian eyes will more than counter the rheumatic tendencies of Anno Domini. Tahiti gives a warm welcome to tourists: but Tahiti official dom is very weary of the aged seekers after romance, who came sneaking in there from almost every country in the world. * * * AN isolated reader of the “P.1.M.”, writes to say that he would be grate ful to receive, from any coconut planter in the Pacific, details of small copra driers, similar to the type descri bed as “native village driers”, by Mr.

T V. Wallace, in the “P.1.M.” of No vember last. Our correspondent lives in Aroe Islands a small group off the south-west coast of Dutch New Guinea — and it is not easy for him to keep in touch with what is happening in the development of new types of driers. His address it: Mr. C. R. Sheldon, Dobo, Aroe Islands, Makasser, Dutch East Indies. * * * A NOTE from L.H.W , of Eastern Papua:— Having criticised, we leave ourselves open to criticism. We knew something would happen—and apparently it did.

In the June “P.1.M.”, camouflaged un der the nom de plume of “Overseer”, some gentleman inquired into our past.

Just the thing we don’t like people to delve into too deeply. It won’t stand it.

The family skeleton would probably come and haunt us for years after, if we told the truth. Another thing— “ Overseer” probably wouldn’t believe us.

No one ever does. However, the subject of debate (the handling of native la

hour) seems to overshadow any form of personal antagonism. Consequently, we won’t bother trying to find fault with “Overseer’s” article; but will hope that it will set people thinking and working towards an improvement. * * * I WAS passing the fortress-like French calaboose at Vila, New Hebrides, one evening at dusk and I saw a Tonk inese wearing the regulation prison togs, loudly knocking on th,e iron gates seeking admission.

It appears that the “Tonk” had been sent to do a job at a French official’s house, and had been kept late. He seemed rather peeved at being thus forgotten and

locked out.

p.