82 THE WOODLANDS ORCHIDS 



took a cargo of ' notions ' on his own account, to trade when 

 opportunity arose. 



Davao hes, I understand, some sixty miles from Min- 

 danao. Its inhabitants are Papuan thorough-bred, of the 

 brown variety. Roebehn was deeply struck with the 

 appearance of the warriors who swarmed to the beach when 

 his intention of landing was understood. A body of men so 

 tall and stalwart can scarcely be found elsewhere, and for 

 graceful carriage or activity they could not be surpassed. 

 A red clout was their only wear, besides ornaments and 

 weapons. They had the kinkled hair of the race (not wool), 

 bleached with lime, and dyed yellow. Very strange and 

 pleasing is the effect of these golden mops, lustrous if not 

 clean, decked with plumes and fresh flowers. But admira- 

 tion came afterwards. When Roebelin saw the big- fellows 

 mustering m haste, armed with spears and bows, stone- 

 headed maces which the European soldier could scarcely 

 wield, great swords set with sharks' teeth, and outlandish 

 tools of every sort for smashing and tearing, he regarded the 

 spectacle from another point of view. They ran and leapt, 

 brandishing their weapons, halloed and roared and sang, 

 with Papuan vivacity. The vessel approaching was too 

 small to alarm them. Laughter predominated in the uproar. 

 But this was no comfort. Men are cheerful with a feast in 

 view. 



Sam Choon, however, kept up his spirits. ' Them chaps 

 make rumpus all time,' he said. ' We see.' He held up a 

 green bough shipped for the purpose. It was all laughter 

 now and gesticulation. Every Papuan tore a branch from 

 the shrubs around and waved it boisterously. ' Them no 

 hurt,' said Sam Choon. ' Good trade.' The Chinaman 

 was as careful of his person as one need be, and experienced 

 in the ways of such people. Roebelin took courage. As 

 they neared the surf, the whole body of islanders rushed 



