Crocodile Interlude In Papua

By John D. Wilkinson

r was a quiet night. We (plan tation manager and visiting trader —me) had talked cur ves out of subjects; the rum was gone; it was too early to retire, ‘Let’s go and get a crocodile,” id the FM. “There are some big lows over in the swamp, there, want a good hide.”

Fhe VT agreed. He was not fond being near crocodiles; but it ght fill the evening. \ dinghy, lamp, batteries, rifle, d two natives as helpers and me movers were soon assembled, d the expedition departed. An ur later the party was weary— ary of being aground on soft, tiking mud, of being bitten by Hess lines of mosquitoes, of irly falling overboard, of hearing ; PM say, “There always have :n some here before.” [’hen the spotlight picked up tiething in the fringing mangoes hundred yards away. It looked ; the tail-light of a car. It was ! reflection from a croc’s eyes. >lowly, slowly, the boat crept ser. At 15ft. distance, the PM’s ivy rifle went off with an ex sion that just about lifted the (edition out of the water, and .ttered three sets of nerves, ds shrieked, the plantation cattle lowed, and the VT, holding the flight, just saved himself from a ider into the creek . . . lack went the spotlight. Bang it the rifle. This time, all nature lly did itself proud. The din was rific. !ut the target did not react. It e only a slight shiver. There ! no tail-light showing.

Conversation was carried on in whispers. The boat crept nearer, When only five feet away, one of the natives prodded the object hard with an oar.

The resulting activity was as tounding. The sea seemed to erupt, Mud, water, sticks and stones flew in all directions—and the croc’s huge tail came threshing around.

It seemed to miss the dinghy, at each swipe, by only six inches.

The VT howled “Go astern”; the PM insisted “I’ll give him another”’; the natives pushed like mad—and the dinghy grounded within two feet of the snapping jaws, which had come to the surface at the writhing creature’s opposite end.

The VT thought of his misspent life, and wondered whether he could get twenty feet from the madly rocking dinghy to the nearest mangrove tree. Then the tail stayed quiet. The PM got in an other careful shot—and a beautiful stillness descended on the huge reptile The VT and two frantic natives heaved frantically; the PM cursed and argued; but nothing could stop those three intense human beings—they departed from that sheltered haven so fast that the bow-wave became notable in local history.

The PM went back next day and retrieved the carcase and got the hide. That croc, measured a few inches over 17ft.

The PM wants another croc, so as to complete his set of croc.-skin travelling bags. But the VT is con tent to rest on his laurels. There has been, as yet, no second croc.shooting expedition.

e crocodile measuring 17 ft 4 in., shot Ir. M. King, manager of Sawataitai tation, Normanby Island, Papua, in

January, 1953, as described in the accom panying article. Mr. King is seen beside the corpse.