Two Nights With A

Duk Duk

The Horrors of a Young Men's House

(By “Peccavi”)

BECAUSE of something I wrote in the “PIM” a few months ago. I have received a letter from an Australian ex-serviceman, a resident of Adelaide, who served during the war in New Britain. He wants to know if I can tell him anything more of that old institution of primitive native life in New Britain, the mysterious Duk Duk.

Mr. Richard Parkinson, in his “Thirty Years in the South Seas.” and Dr. Otto Finsch, in his “My Travels in the Bis marck Archipelago,” have mentioned the Duk Duk, but only what they were told or imagined. I published a glossary article about it in a former issue of the “PIM.”

I would like to challenge any European who has been living in New Britain to tell me the real truth.

I lived in Kabaira, in New Britain, in 1884-85, and, close to my station, there was a large native house about 30 feet long. Walls and roof were made of 6-feet long grass, common in New Britain. The walls were open about two feet from the ground, so that large tree-trunks could be pushed through, smoking night and day, ready for use when required by the in mates for lighting their clay pipes.

Nobody went near this house during the day but I noticed that after dark many mysterious figures slipped into the place. My native cook. Tobilau, slept there.

Being young and inquisitive, I wanted to know more about this building. But Tobilau was silent. He only said that he could tell me nothing—if lie did, mag gots would eat him alive, his body would burn like fire, and his grandmother would come and cut his belly. But he promised to speak to the head man.

A few days later, Tomarkete, a petty chief whom I knew well, came to my station, and introduced himself as the head man of the (as he called it) “young men’s association” —young men who had not been able to buy a wife for divera (shell money), canoes, or other native artifacts, or were still working their pay in the plantations of their future fathers in-law.

Tomarkete told me that he would make me a member of the society, but if I ever told anybody what was going on inside the building, maggots would eat me alive, my body would burn like fire, and his grandmother would cut my belly.

The next day I was “inaugurated.” The ceremony of inauguration was unbeliev able, and I cannot repeat it. For two nights I slept in this house, with about 30 kanakas. If I told what I saw, nobody would believe me—and his hair would stand upright. Even now, I shiver when I think of it. lam glad I did not have to witness more.

On my third day, the German warship “Albatros” arrived, to punish the Kabaira natives for killing several Europeans; and after the ship had fulfilled her task, the Commander, Count von Baudisin, insisted that I should leave New Britain, as he was sure the natives would revenge them selves, and that I would be their object.

During my two days as a member of the young men’s society, I found out that Tomarkete was the notorious “Duk Duk,” and that the members were his tools. After six full moons of the year, the Duk Duk moves through the villages, dressed in a costume made of grass and leaves, wear

ing a mask and a full headdress like a church spire. The female Duk Duk wears a similar costume, but a smaller head dress, in the shape of a bird.

When the natives see Duk Duks coming, they rush out and lay some divara at their feet, which the female Duk Duk collects.

After the Duk Duk has finished his mysterious doings, he is publicly burned, and his dress is hung on a stick, to look as if it was the real Duk Duk.

As I do not want the maggots to eat me alive, or Tomarkete’s grandmother to cut my belly, I will say no more.

mercantile house of Sudden & Christen sen, of San Francisco, sent the salvage steamer “Raymond” to see if the “County of Roxburgh” could be floated; but, un fortunately, the vessel was beyond repair.

Several schooners were lost in that ter rific tidal wave—the “Eimeo,” with her

captain, Narii Salmon, and entire crew; the “Tauturu,” with all hands; and the “Tahitienne,” with her captain, Georges Dexter. Two members of the crew of the “Tahitienne” were picked up by the “Mariposa,” as she passed on her errand of mercy through the islands.