Soon after leaving the village we entered a dense forest,
the growth of which was wonderfully beautiful. Tall PANDANUS trees,
some of them supported by a hundred and more long stilted roots, which
rose many feet above our heads, reared their crowns of ribbon-like
leaves above even some of the giants of the forest. Palms of all shapes
and sizes, dwarfed, tall, slender and thick, surrounded us on every
side, and at least three different species of climbing palms scrambled
over the tallest trees. The tree trunks were hidden by climbing ferns
and by a white variegated fleshy-leafed POTHOS. Orchids, though not
numerous, were by no means scarce on the branches of some of the
larger trees, and were intermixed with many curious and beautiful
ferns. There were many large-leafed tropical plants somewhat resembling
the HELICONIAS and MARANTAS of tropical America.
Flowers were not very plentiful, but here and there the forest
would be literally ablaze with what is said to be the most showy
flowering creeper in the world, huge bunches of large flowers of so
vivid a scarlet that Monckton and I agreed no painting could do them
justice. It is sometimes known as the DALBERTIA, but its botanical name
is MUCUNA BENNETTI. It has been found impossible to introduce it into
cultivation. Among other flowers were some very large sweet-scented
CRINUM lilies and some very pretty pink flowering BEGONIAS, with their
leaves beautifully mottled with silver. Here and there we would notice
a variegated CROTON or pink-leafed DRACAENA, but these were uncommon.
As we proceeded, I noticed that in spite of the very dry weather
we had been having, the ground each moment became more moist, which
indicated that we were approaching the swamps we had heard about. It
was a rough track over fallen trees and dry streams, but before long
we passed along the banks of a creek full of stagnant water.
We at length left the forest and found ourselves in open country,
covered with reeds and rank grass, through which we slowly wended
our way. Suddenly, however, we halted, and looking through the
tall grass, saw some of the houses of the Agai Ambu tribe close
at hand. Down we all crouched, hiding ourselves among the grass,
while two of our Baruga guides, who speak the language of the Agai
Ambu, went forward to try and parley with them and induce them to be
friendly with us. We soon heard them yelling out to the Agai Ambu,
who yelled back in reply. This went on for some minutes, when the
Baruga men called out to us to come on.
Jumping up, we rushed forward through the grass and witnessed a
remarkable scene. In front of us was a lake thickly covered with
water-lilies, most of them long-stemmed and of a very beautiful blue,
with a yellow centre, and with large leaves, the edges of which were
covered with a kind of thorn; there were also some white ones with
yellow centre.
On the other side of the lake were several curious houses built on
long poles in the water, the houses themselves being a good height
above the water. The lake presented a scene of great confusion. The
inhabitants were fleeing away from us in their curious canoes, which,
unlike most Papuan canoes, had no outrigger whatever. Their paddles
also were peculiar, the blades being very broad. Close to us were
our two Baruga guides in a canoe with one of the Agai Ambu tribe,
who directly he saw us plunged into the lake and disappeared under
the tangled masses of water lilies.
He remained under some time, but on his coming to the surface again,
one of the Baruga men plunged in after him, and we witnessed an
exciting wrestling match in the water. The Baruga man was by far
the more powerful of the two, but he was no match for the almost
amphibious Agai Ambu, who slipped away from his grasp like an eel,
and swam away, with the Baruga man in close pursuit. All this time
a canoe full of the Agai Ambu was rapidly approaching to the rescue,
waving their paddles over their heads, and the Baruga man, seeing this,
climbed back into his canoe and paddled back to us.
Meanwhile the police had made a rush for a canoe which was close at
hand; but it at once upset, having no outrigger and being exceedingly
light and thin; it was, in fact, a species of canoe quite new to our
police. In any case they would not have had the slightest chance of
overtaking the fleet Agai Ambu in their own canoes. It looked very
much as if after all we were not to have the chance of verifying
the strange reports about the formation of these people. As a last
resource we sent over our two Baruga guides in a canoe to speak with
those of the tribe who had not fled. As the guides approached they
shouted out that we were friends, and that as we were friends of the
Baruga tribe, we must be friends of the Agai Ambu tribe as well.
We held up various tempting trade goods, including a calico known as
Turkey-red, bottles of beads, etc. This and a long conversation with
the Baruga men seemed to carry some weight with them, for the Baruga
soon returned with one of their number, who turned round in the canoe
with his arms outstretched to his friends and cried or rather chanted,
in a sobbing voice, what sounded like a very weird song, which seemed
quite in keeping with the mournful surroundings and lonely life of
these people.
This weird song, heard under such circumstances, quite thrilled me,
and wild and savage though the singer was, the song appealed to me
more than any other song has ever done.
