a living

Recruiting for a living

By Old Marlburian

rpHE Morobe goldfield was beginning X to open up. The demand for native labour was keen. In 1927, I found myself, penniless, on the beach at Sala maua, living in a sac-sac house opposite the Langier Syndicate.

Someone heard I had been recruiting in Papua, and put up the necessary £5O guarantee. He bought trade goods for me from Clem Hendry, lent me a car bine stock Lueger, and sent me away re cruiting. He told me there was a report of kanakas dying of some complaint, back of Mapos, in the Buangs.

With 4 boys loaned to me, to carry my trade, I set off along the beach, then climbed inland. Arrived at Mapos, high up in the clouds, I heard a great wailing.

The village was really a series of ham lets. Presently a kanaka who could speak Pidgin aopeared, and I told him I was out to recruit boys. Towards dusk, there came to the house-kiap 8 boys, who said they were scared of dying and wanted to go to work.

In the morning, they arrived, with their poppas and mammas. The parents of each boy received a lap-lap, mirror, axe, grass knife, stick of tobacco, a box of matches and a glass.

Everyone satisfied, I started my return to Salamaua, down-hill, sliding down the red clay washaways. Never was there a happier mob of coons, overjoyed at leaving death behind them. Arrived at Salamaua, I sold them to a man who was flying to Wau (who wanted them as cargo boys) at £lO a head.

I now thought I had reached a turning point on the road of misfortune. Un luckilv for me, it was six moons before I got paid. Meanwhile, a couple of “blueys” were waiting for me to appear at the District Office one to show reason why I had not paid my kai-kai bill at the local caravanserai, the other from one of the firms. I told the DO I was only too anxious to square up, if J got a break, .and the cases were held over.

SO off again per launch to Lae, to re cruit in the Atzera district of the Markham. This time I had only one carrier. Mv hat blew off during the 18 miles trip, and it was too rough to turn back. So, from then on, I dis pensed with a hat in the Tropics.

I arrived at Lae and was invited to stay with a man working for one of the plane companies, on the drome. Soon after my arrival he went into ‘the horrors,”' and the only way he could take a drink was to place his glass on the floor and lie alongside it.

Eventually carriers arrived from the village of Zaiu who wanted 5/- each and a football I arrived at Gabsonket to find S h v e nmc 0 a U te” k - P more^usuallyas the “Whatfor Syndicate”. They kindly made room for me on the limbom floor, where I rigged my taunam (net) and Sid out mf solitary blanket, with my ha i Ve wa a s Ck invited To*“evening kai-kai a

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first; and he glomnily forecast that after the Syndicate, he foretold success every- W BTihe o X?X n syndicate n had S, brought ham The leader did not like walki g, weighing some 20 stone.

When I was trying to get carriers, the Tul-tul told me that he was charging 1/- for a small saucepan of boiled bananas. His kanakas had recently carried for a recruiter to Sangan, and their feet were burnt by the hot stones, so I sat down to await events.

PRESENTLY, I heard that there were some pack-saddles in the village, and donkeys roaming around, left there by Yorky Booth, who had gone to Kaindi. Immediately I wrote a note to Yorky, saying I had borrowed his donks.

I rounded them up, packed them, and started merrily off. The leader, a sedate tinkling 8 ’ **" 8 7 Towards dusk, we passed the foot of some hills, where there was a seepage.

Four donks jumped it Jut the last one but US the donkey s " sat back contentedly!

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prepared to camp, my bed consisting of my blanket on some cut kunai. I c °nld not put up the net, as there was no "soon°as the sun went down every mosquito in the valley v dc d Ssned inspect me: as my net was i roc over me, they took their fill. The roc rocs then began their infernal croaking, “Morning "at last arrived and we were

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eventually found eaUng his way back ratlin the kunai. 116 knBW ws swear words We camped in a grass hut hut went u’n I frantically grabbed a smouldering case of 12-gauge W aY e we r fi aC u h p ed nSTof n water tearing over boulders, on its to the Markham. The donks would not face this, s 0 i decided to swim the

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with my socket Ben tied around my neck> and carrying my six-months-old bull terrier Joe, I gingerly stepped out into the sw i r ] ) trying to run downwards with the stream. I slipped on a loose boulder and went in head first. After a bit of a struggle I swam ashore on the opposite hungry-looking bank and nop® jO6( w hom I could not see, would make it too . He did. . . . „ nllTlfrv So on aga i n across desolate flat country to sangon, where an Agricultural Station was flying the flag. En route I had to wade through mud up to my knees as

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the coume of a creek, hoping it would flood out the station. rptvfd there I received a hearty A welcome and a dr f 3 t ef^® k sit ße?

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Village in the Markham Valley

dozen boys, who returned in the morn ing with the donks, none the worse for their swim.

Invited to camp for a while, I rested for a few days, and felt that all was not lost.

Leaving the donks, I got a line of kanakas to lift my gear and trade-goods for the mountains back of Onga, where I had been told very few recruiters had been before. On the way we were joined by a deserter, who had tired of the idea of walking to Lae with his recruiter, and had beaten it back during the night.

This deserter told my boys that in his hamlet there were plenty of boys waiting to be signed on. Although feel ing this was too good to be true, I set off in high fettle. After two days of solid climbing, slipping in the clay, fall ing off moss-covered tree trunks, tripping up in tree roots, we finally reached a few houses.

A few pig-greased kanakas appeared and listened to our deserter. A small hut was allotted to me. No women were to be seen. A few small hands of bananas appeared in return for tabac—. a change from the green “brus” they smoked in their bamboo pipes, and which smelt like an offensive bon-fire. The clouds swirled around us as the sun set, and an ominous silence reigned.

One of my boys appeared and said: “This place no good. All he savvy kai kai man. More better we go.”

I thought so too; but travelling at night was not easy. So feeling every thing was on the nose, I fed Joe a can of bullamacow, saw my Luger had one in the spout and a full magazine changed the position of my blanket, and tried to get some sleep.

Dawn appeared, and only 3 carriers remained. No kanakas appeared, though I sensed I was being watched by hun dreds of eyes.

Repacking the loads, and taking one myself, we set off deeper into the moun tains, hoping the pigtrack would lead us to a happier village.

After climbing for a few hours, the boys had a malalo, and decided amongst themselves they did not wish to be kai kaied by bush kanakas. They came to me: “Me fright. Me go bacK!”

So there was nothing to it but retreat, When we reached the fork in the track, leading to the hamlet we had slept in, across a small coulee there appeared a swarm of coons, waving spears, and shak ing bows and arrows at us and all the time yelling “Wafor” which in the Markham means “Come!” Refusing their invitation, so warmly extended, we continued our descent, feeling that “Wafor” meant, in this nart of the world, “beat it!”

SLIDING along the boulders beside the Wafor River, with high cliffs on either side, we reached the Mark ham Valley, and found the Markham was up. A nearby village made a raft for us, known as a “bed.” When in the water, only the platform on which we sat, and tied our cargo down, remained above water.

Pushing off, with a boy in front with a pole and one behind, we shoved through the shallows. I had heard of several attempts to raft down the Mark ham in flood. One ended in disaster, and everyone lost his clothes, which were out to dry.

All went well, and I felt I would be one to make it. We bowled along at about 5 knots. Suddenly, the waters formed a bottle-neck, and our speed in creased to about 10. This was exciting, especially when a giant tree was seen around a curve. There was no chance of avoiding it. The boys leapt overboard, I, thinking of mv precious trade, hung on, till the impact shot me in, and Joe too.

As we swam downstream, parts of the “bed” soon joined us. We were able to salvage most of the gear, and we paddled

it over to a small island, where I undid the sodden cartridge cases and put things out into the sun, which was making the stones as hot as the infamous hobs of hell.

Deciding to give the Markham best, we reached .Jiffersen Village, and got carriers to take us through kunai and elephant grass. 20 feet high, to Gabson ket. Joe nearly died. Being low to the ground, he felt the heat even more than we did. So grabbing a bilum (net basket) I slipped him in and carried him the rest of the way.

Next day we went through Big Munum and down the Markham road which was being hewed out bv Talesea boys, under the supervision of “Dynamite Dan,” otherwise Major Harrison. And so I reached Lae, with another unsuccessful recruiting trip to chalk up.