p. 14 | British New Guinea by S. W. CARR

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 14, 1909

British New Guinea

By S. W. CARR

S. W. CARR

While staying recently at a plantation about one hundred fifty miles east of Port Moresby, I had the opportunity of visiting several villages in a lakatoi. The Papuan lakatoi consists of two or more canoes lashed together and boarded over. The sail is large and peculiarly shaped, and is made of native mats; all ropes are native made, and seem to be as strong as the machine-made article, and similar to it.

Sometimes one end of the boat is the bow, sometimes the other, and at each tack the large flat piece of wood, about seven feet long and eighteen inches wide, which acts as the rudder, is dragged to the stern, and there secured and manipulated with a pole by the steersman. After a few hours' sail in this strange craft, we ran up a small river to a native village to purchase food. The village was new, and consisted of seven houses grouped around the eighth, which was the largest of all.

This was the dubu, or men's house, and no woman is ever allowed to enter. Here, too, the lads of the village are initiated according to native custom into manhood, and remain there for from three to twelve months without being allowed to see any woman during that time. In the semi-darkness of this building, I soon had a number gathered, and with the aid of an interpreter was able to tell them the old, old story of the cross. With what interest they listened as the story was told in Motuan and interpreted into their dialect! How strange it all seemed to them — God in heaven, his Son sent to earth as a little child, his life of good words and works, his cruel death, his resurrection and ascension, and the promise of his soon return! Exclamations of wonder escaped their lips, especially when the resurrection was mentioned. How could such a thing be possible? All knelt in prayer to hear from the lips of the misineri a fervent petition for a Father's blessing upon the words spoken in weakness, and that the darkened minds of the hearers should not long remain in heathen ignorance.

The day following, the same story was told to a gathering on the beach near another village, and was listened to with the same interest.

One's heart goes out to them in their darkness and ignorance. There is no missionary, white or black, along seventy miles of coast, and none inland. Apparently this was the first time that any of those present had heard the gospel. The life of government also dominates, has not yet full control, for during our stay in Dedele to