he Goldfield--Two Miners Eaten Alive--Unexpected Visit from
a White Man--"Where's that Razor?"--Crime of Cutting Down a
Coconut Tree--Walsh's Camp--Torres Straits Pigeons--My Boy an
ex-Cannibal--A Probable Trap--Relapse into Cannibalism of our
Own Allies--Narrow Escape from a New Guinea Mantrap--Attack on
a Village--Second Visit to Dobodura--Toku's Exploit--Interview
with our Prisoners--Reasons for Cannibalism--The Night Attack
on our Camp and Enemies' Fear of our Rifles described by our
Prisoners--Bravery of one of our Carriers--Treatment of a Prisoner.

"Yes," said Monckton on our return to the coast, "we have got to
punish those Doboduras at all costs. They are the worst brutes I've
come across in New Guinea." And Monckton knew what he was talking
about, as he had been a resident magistrate in British New Guinea for
many years and had travelled all over the country, and had a wider
experience of the cannibals than any man living.

This tribe (as has already been mentioned), when they capture a
prisoner, tie him to a post, keep him alive for days, and meanwhile
feed on him slowly by cutting out pieces of flesh, and prevent his
bleeding to death with a special preparation of their own concoction,
and finally, when he is nearly dead, they make a hole in the side of
the head and feed on the hot fresh brains.

Both Acland and I myself fully agreed with Monckton, as we were not
by any means grateful to the Doboduras for giving us the worst fright
of our lives. We had, it is true, killed a good many of them, but we
recognised the fact that our force was insufficient to hold its own,
much less to punish these brutal tribesmen. So we determined to journey
up north and get help from the magistrate of the Northern Division
on the Mambare River, before returning to the Dobodura country.

That evening four Notu chiefs came into camp to thank us for killing
their enemies, and they brought with them presents of dogs' teeth and
shell necklaces, and seemed greatly excited, all talking at once,
each trying to out-talk his fellows, and wagged their heads at us
in turn. We left very early the next morning in our whaleboat for
the Kumusi River, but left all our carriers and stores with most of
the police behind in one of the Notu villages to await our return,
as we now felt sure that we could trust the Notu tribe.

It was a hot and uneventful voyage. A fish which looked like an
enormous sole, but wh