New Guinea by F. L. Chaney

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jul 6, 1911

New Guinea

By F. L. Chaney

F. L. CHANEY.

BACK here in the interior, twenty-seven miles from the coast, we have a mission station. Twenty-five acres have now been cleared, and about half of this is under cultivation. Eight hundred rubber-trees have been planted, between which are growing bananas, pineapples, manioc, taro, yams, sweet potatoes, granadillas, tomatoes, peas, beans, pumpkins, etc. Some orange-, mandarin-, and lime-trees have also been set out.

There are twenty-four boys working on our mission farm who belong to tribes living at a distance of five or six days’ journey, and nearer the interior. It is a very strange thing in this country for boys to apply for work voluntarily. In most cases they must be forced to “sign on,” or sign a contract to work for a given period.

The other evening I accompanied back to his village a chief who had been invited to our mission that we might seek his advice with reference to timber. There I got a view of the real, raw, dirty Papuan in his native home. The village is situated on a small hill, with a good view of the mountainous country to the northeast.

About six years ago these villagers were living six or seven miles farther inland in two villages. Another tribe living still farther inland came down upon them, and killed all but one of the people living in one village, and the others fled to their present location. For a year they lived in tree-houses (the remnants of four of these were still to be seen); then they moved into their present more substantial houses. This village consists of eleven houses, arranged in the form of a rough rectangle.

Each house is raised about five feet from the ground, on slender posts. Each has a veranda platform two or three feet lower than the floor of the house, but under the same roof. The floors are made of split goru, a species of palm, the outside, or smooth surface being turned upward. This veranda serves as a dining-room, and after the meal is over, one or two of the numerous small pigs that are running about are allowed to clean up the scraps. It was the time of their evening meal, and out in front of their respective houses were small groups of men and women and children preparing or partaking of their food.

The Papuan has no salutation of his own like “Good day,” or, “How do you do?” but they all give a good-natured grunt when spoken to. These villagers seemed pleased to see Brother Carr, who had visited them before.

The women all wore their grass ramies, or skirts. Some of the men wore cloth ramies, and others only a belt with a string loin-cloth. The younger children wore nothing. The chief’s earrings consisted of a large safety-pin in one ear and a brass clock wheel in the other. Most of the men have their nostrils pierced, but none of those here have very large nose ornaments.

These villagers have no cultivated ground in the immediate vicinity of the village, their gardens being about half a mile away.

When Bennie, our native boy on the farm, first came to us, before we had our mission house up, one man with his two wives came and slept near his hut every night, to watch over him and see that no harm came to him.