Eighty Good Recruits

“Holiday” In A Sepik Village

[?]ow A Blonde Got Eighty Good Recruits

The Wewak gold rush was well under way, and Tom >uld was running a general store with bottle licence, in con iction with his and Dick Glasson’s plantations.

I the convenience of his istomers, from far and near, e built “The Blood House”—a construction of native •ials, mainly verandah, with ng cubicles a deux along one Any overflow—which in- Dly occurred at “boat time” — 3d its tents between the nearby ay were the old Morobe Is we met, trying for better on these new fields. Bob ie was there, Ray Parer and msin, Ben, Eric Weine, Jimmy n, Jack Williamson, Vic ace, Norm White, etc. t, but not least, Commander hope, who had just received of his retirement from the [ Navy with the rank of t i n _an excellent reason for ity. ntually the schooner Boram ichored, with Geoff Shaw as er and, as passengers, besides :wo selves, Nick Carter, Mrs. (with her daughter and er) and Wally Hook. 5 treacherous Yakamui natives murdered Wally and handed his body to the Japs—only to awarded with chastisement.

Japs wanted Wally alive with invaluable knowledge of the e district.

Karawap, at dusk, we were med and entertained by Mrs.

Corrigan—then Mrs. Marcus it day I procured a mount for n from the Boikin Mission, /as a piebald, sleek and full uischief; and as he w as onised, I treated him with ist. im Karawap we wended our through the plantation and : the sandy coast to Dagua.

How Lucy Got Away

humour my own Daguans— ously recruited —but chiefly to ,tiate myself with some arts that I failed to impress ty last visit, I decided to mark for a space. Maski! We were led to any schedule and a few here or there were of no rt. ■ wife held a permit to employ ler single mary, and one dusky named Lucy caught her eye.

Luckily the girl attached herself to Missus and refused to leave her.

I managed to “grease” her parents who, for a consideration of “3 fella ten marks” (30/-) agreed to her “making paper”—they stubbornly refused any less.

About an hour later, Lucy (who had gone to collect her belongings) came flying back, with a huge native yelling at her heels. She dived onto the house-kiap verandah and got behind my wife whilst he stood, baffled at the steps.

Air of Impartiality

Assuming my gravest air of impartiality, I soon learned the cause of it all.

His name was Koanis, a brother of Lucy and, perhaps, one of the most perfect specimens of native physique I had ever seen. He was a recruiter’s dream: but he had always scorned my suggestion that he “make paper”. Koanis now stood there defiant, and demanding. He point-blank refused to allow his sister to leave the village.

As there was no point in antagonising perhaps the whole village over one mary, I suggested to Lillian that it might be wiser to allow Lucy to remain. I might have met with success if I’d had only one woman to deal with.

Lucy was adamant in her tearful intention to “make paper” with “Missus”, and “Missus”, encouraged by such loyalty and devotion, fluently advised Koanis to scram, in a wonderful outburst of Pidgin.

He Made His Mistake

Then Koanis made his mistake.

He insolently tossed a tobacco tin containing the 30 marks hand money on the floor at my feet and turned away with the remark: “You hear him. Finish talk-talk.

Sister belong me he stop. He no car* fo one time along you two fella. We talk”—a studied and intended insult.

I saw red, sprang up and chucked the tin at his departing head— luckily I missed —and informed Koanis, and anyone else interested in the fate of the mary, that she would be coming away with us the next afternoon.

Later, when returning through

the village from a swim in the lagoon, I came upon Koanis sitting alone —moping. I touched his thick thatch of “grass” (hair) and said: “Maski think-think along Lucy one-talk (friend). Missus belong me he good fella —he look out good along sister belong you”, and passed on.

Half an hour later Koanis appeared at our steps with a broad grin and announced, “Master! me like make im paper—before me long-long—now me savvy”.

I lost no time in binding the deal.

As far as the native is concerned, the subsequent contract signed be fore the Kiap is just a piece of paper—the real contract is in the simple process of payment of hand money.

Eight other splendid types—five

with their wives—lined up to follow in Koanis’ footsteps—a delightful climax to what might have been an embarrassing situation.

This was an example of the un expected thrills that compensate for the many disappointments and set-backs that can dishearten the recruiter. Any sound mining man would willingly have paid me £l5O for those nine perfect recruits, if I would agree to the transfer.

Papa Would Not Die

We idled and lazed there in an atmosphere of perfect trust and good fellowship. I organised com petitive sports for the men (foot races, broad and high jumping, swimming and archery). My wife took the women and did the same —and we men all bowed our heads in shame when Lillian trounced all-comers with the bow and arrow at 30 paces. Prizes consisted ol trade tobacco, beads, razor blades matches, salt.

At night the strains of our por table gramophone rhythmically accompanied by the gentle beat ol

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the kundus, enticed the whole village to squat in front of our temporary home.

Amid this joviality and happiness, we met again one of the funniest and wittiest natives we ever knew.

His name was Matapau, and he was no chicken —he had been employed by Lillian, at Kokopo, years before, and then he was no “monkey” (boy).

He recognised his old “Missus”, and she chiacked him about not

eager to make paper. He ised and said nothing would ;er to his heart; but the pre uncertain health of his -in-law prevented it. i he gave us a buffoon on of the varied ills of Bara, >ed by him as “Papa belong belong me”. ppeared that, some months Bara, who had been ailing, The village, with the corpse n state, set up the customary I and lamentation in honour •a. Then the feast was par of. In the midst of this the sat up and, in sepulchral demanded of his daughter, ! Me like kai-kai water”! months later, Bara again with all the symptoms of -“eye belong him he round; le fast; screw (joints) belong le tight”. Yes, they said, vas dead this time, n he was mourned, and the village held a wake, and Bara revived. ipau ended his story as “Goddam! Bell belong me ,e hot. What name this fella i? Bara he make him plenty ig. Alright! Suppose he like le time more, me fella dig along mat-mat (cemetery) Dlant him quick time, now him up. Suppose he no die ;, Bara must make him i all the same kuka (crab).”

In the Dream Village

ctant though we were to end halcyon days at Dagua, was anxious to see my village. I had arranged for s and we said au revoir to —Lillian astride of “Satan” afoot. n passing a level stretch at ick of Dagua, I remarked on itability as an airstrip; and where the Japs, some seven later built an airfield which ich a nuisance to the Allies ) long, but which was so /ely obliterated by our lads 6th and the RAAF. m and up into the foothills Torricellis to Wanai —one of Ithiest villages I ever saw. nore hours, over steep grades, mutually reached Enuenum. choice of this village was >d. Lillian fell in love with ilace, and apparently the rs fell in love with her—as ; proved. old Luluai, his face alight >ride and joy, cried; “Masta! moon before you talk you im Missus along you along belong me. Now you bring ’E good fella fashion”, r Lillian was comfortably ed, with a dependable staff to or and protect her, and after ■ranged for more carriers, I uluai and Tultul that I would bruiting over the Torricellis, into the kunai beyond, and I’d be absent two or three

weeks. I said I would leave my Missus protected at Enuenum, in their care. They said I could tear them limb from limb if any harm befell Missus.

That was one of the most dismal and unsuccessful recruiting trips I ever experienced. God knows how many weary miles I trekked in 17 days for 13 boys.

The blowflies, mosquitoes and high stifling kunai made me a nervous and physical wreck. I had already decided to return, in beaten disgust, when a runner caught up with me, with a two-page note from Lillian beginning “Darling, how are things, etc.” and ending “so you’d better return, Dill. I’ve got a village-full”.

I soon was back at Enuenum with my 13 mediocre recruits.

Blonde Missus Is A Success The peaceful quiet Enuenum I left three short weeks ago now was the excited centre of laugh ing, screeching, squalling, yelling natives —youths, lasses and piccan innies.

There was, naturally, a pre ponderance of marys whose ever exuberant curiosity was whetted by the presence in the area of a “Missus”. My sudden appearance, for once, in no way affected the freedom of the young native women —the shrewd old men presumed that the presence of my “Missus” rendered me immune to the flaunted charms of the dusky belles.

The verandah of the house-kiap was heaped high with at least a ton of native produce—pawpaws, beans, pineapples, tomatoes, bananas, Chinese cabbage, kau-kau, taro, breadfruit, yams. All had been pur chased for beads, salt, an odd packet of razor blades, matches, sticks of tobacco, and a bowl or two of rice.

Asked what we should do with it, Lillian said: “Well! I hated to disappoint them by not entering into the spirit of things. Some have brought ‘bilun’ fulls of stuff for miles, and some have brought it from the other side of the Torricellis. They came to look at me—and sell their produce. I have made them all happy—and there are up to 100 prospective recruits there —I have kept them here for your return. If I had only pur chased enough kai for my needs, they’d have cleared out”.

She was a born recruiter.

That really was recruiting de luxe. The applicants actually queued up, whilst I sat in state on the verandah and called up each boy in turn, to record his name, next of kin, village and district; chest measurement, age and period of indentureship. The Native Labour Ordinance was strict and demanded all details.

There and then, I signed up 80 first-class recruits.

Humour and pathos were there

,ded through that lone line. a weeping old mother beseech me to refuse her son, whose desire was to my his young mates, to see i new, or to break away tie humdrum village life, ly, an extra lap-lap, a or a few beads would pacify soul. Sometimes her pleas urn to vindictive vitupera , an ancient but shrewd would put on a show, in ses in a vain endeavour to le ante. Often, an older having himself, perhaps, gars away from his village for the white man, and f that more work would his own shoulders, would itly flaunt his disapproval to be summarily and iously dealt with, much to ght of the onlookers, that job completed, I on a few days’ relaxation.

Relaxation

ife, with the assistance of uai, had formed a system ling this influx of strangers nany for Enuenum’s not esources. village for miles around suaded to add its quota and ‘ding of the throng was e. Payment was left to my >n and generosity at our re. i and I enjoyed ourselves, ticularly large, deep bathing ad been assigned by the solely for the use of the ”. Trusty sentries were on the kanaka tracks near >ol, to divert male traffic gr “Missus he like go wash twice a day, blonde Lillian n that clear mountain pool ked on the warm gravel bevy of her dusky girls— usual picture where the : of colour was pronounced, moticed, such was their enjoyment and companion f, accompanied by a horde hs and “monkeys”, I would vantage of the ladies’ with and similarly disport—l was gr then than the youngest escorts. refreshed, we would return house, to epicurian meals of luck, pigeons, bush-fowl, arkey, fish, kukamul soup e delicious grilled breast of awkward and weird bird, egetables and fruits. The m district was a veritable e of game, which suc to an unlimited supply of jes fired out of single-barrel ns. by our shoot-boys, g daily, mid-morning and our recruits (80 plus 13) De lined up along the whole of the village square, whilst arys placed before them long

lines of piping-hot, heaped bowls of native foods. At the OK from the Luluai, those recruits would set to in no amateur style.

Never was there a complaint of shortage, and never was there an instance of bullying or gluttony, The whole place, and everyone in it, seemed imbued with goodfellowship, harmony and contentm ent.

At nights, there were delightful and entertaining singsings. The gyrations of the dancers were accompanied by the beating of the kundus and the deeper booming of the garamuts.

Unhappily, the time came to depart, First, the settlement of accounts

with the Luluai. He shyly suggested that, as I had a couple of 100 lb bags of rice, the marys who had done the .cooking would each be satisfied with a bowl of rice. When I protested at the inadequate charge, he persisted; and so they were rewarded—not 100 lbs of rice for all those meals! However, I quietly pressed gifts upon prac tically all of them.

As we thanked them for their wonderful kindness and hospitality, I noticed that on many of those dark cheeks, and on at least one white cheek, there were genuine tears of regret. We promised to return one day to happy Enuenum, and we intended to—but we never did.