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Many of these skulls were quite fresh, with small bits of meat still sticking to them, but for all that they had been picked very clean. The explanation for this we soon learnt from the Notus, and later it was confirmed by our prisoners. When the Doboduras capture an enemy they slowly torture him to death, practically eating him alive.
"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.
Expedition against the Doboduras We hear reports about a Web-footed Tribe Landing at the Mouth of the Musa River A Good Bag Barigi River Reached A Flight of Torres Straits Pigeons A Tropical Night Scene Brilliant Rues of Tropical Fish Arrival of Supplies Prospects of a Stiff Fight Landing of the Force Pigs Shot to Prevent them from being Cooked Alive Novelty of Firearms A Red Sunrise Beauty of the Forest Enemies' War Cry First Heard Rushing a Village Revolting Relics of Cannibal Feast Doboduras eat their Enemies Alive Method of Extracting the Brains Extensive Looting Firing at the Enemies' Scouts An Exciting Chase When in Doubt Turn to the Right Another Village Rushed Skirmishes with the Enemy Relics of Cannibalism general in the Villages Camp Formed at the Largest Village Capture of Prisoners An "Object, Lesson" Carriers ask Leave to Eat one of the Slain Arigita's Opinion Cannibal Surroundings at our Supper Expectation of a Night Attack.
Two or three times the Notus came rushing back, and I fully expected to see the Doboduras at their heels, but they were evidently aware that the Notus were not alone, and all I could see was the distant village and palm-trees shimmering in the quivering heated air, and the heads of the Dobodura warriors crowned with feather head-dresses bobbing about amid the tall grass, while ever and anon their distant war-cry floated over the grassy plain.
Our old man prisoner escaped in the night, although he was handcuffed. We returned to the coast the next day, as there seemed no chance of our coming to terms with these Doboduras. Our only chance would have been to defeat them in a big engagement. They seemed too frightened of us to stand up for a big fight, but hid themselves in the bush, and were thus hard to get at.
The Doboduras, on the other hand, were a strong fighting tribe a short way off in the unknown interior, no white men having hitherto penetrated into their country: hence they knew nothing about the white man except by dim report.
Besides killing several of the Doboduras, we also took several prisoners, both men and women. We rested here, but several of the police, whose fighting blood was now fully roused, went out with some of our armed natives, skirmishing in one or two parties till late, and we could hear shots in all directions.
Calmness soon settled down again, and we learned that the police had fired at some Doboduras who were creeping up into the camp.
We were only partially successful, as the Doboduras discovered our plans just in time. Though we rushed the village, and a few shots were fired, we only succeeded in capturing two old men and a small boy, who were not able to get away in time.
Here we determined to camp, but we found that most of the police had rushed on ahead after the Doboduras, much to Monckton's annoyance, for it was risky, to say the least, as the enemy might easily have attacked each party separately.
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