THE AUSTRALIAN MUSEUM MAGAZINE. 



293 



The Mud-Dwellers of Kaimari. 



Notes froxM the Diarv of Allax R. McCllloch. 



The aocDiTipauying photographs are published by permission of Captain Frank Hurley, 

 and may not be reproduced under any circumstances. 



October 7th, 1922. 



WE are anchored at the village of 

 Kaimari far up in the Gulf of 

 Papua, and our little vessel, 

 trim with wireless aerials complete, 

 and the flying-boat ■ Seagull "' along- 

 side, compare strangely with the weird 

 ravis and fantastic huts of the natives. 

 Surely such circumstances as bring these 

 ultra-modern contrivances into direct 

 contrast with the dug-out canoes of 

 primitive natives must be rare indeed. 



It is the heart of a huge mangrove 

 swamp extending over hundreds of 

 square miles, and we are walled in on 

 all sides by wonderful and beautifully 

 green mangroves, varied only with a 

 few coconut palms which have been 

 planted on some made ground. A 

 myriad waterways intersect the forest, 

 and swift tides run to and fro, flooding 

 everything at the springs and exposing 

 a huge expanse of mud-flats at low 

 water. Strangely enough, we are not 

 bothered with mosquitoes, the torrential 

 downpour of rain which occurs nightly 

 together with the tidal streams scouring 

 the mud so thoroughly that they are 

 unable to breed. Tiny sand-flies, how- 

 ever, appear as evening sets in. and 

 cause some little annoyance with their 

 irritating poison. 



Kaimari is a queer village, and its 

 inhabitants live almost entirely upon 

 stick -platforms erected above the mud. 

 The houses are on piles five or six feet 

 high, and from each a narrow bridge - 

 way leads out to the " road," which is 

 likewise built of sticks laid upon count- 

 less uprights. These are sadly out of 

 repair, and we are ever in danger of 

 breaking through their rotten timbers, 

 which are apt to roll under one's feet 

 or tip up and so precipitate us into the 

 soft squelchy mud below. The natives 

 are very nimble upon them, and scatter 

 in every direction at the slightest 



sound of a crack. At high water fish, 

 crabs, and wading birds move about 

 beneath the houses, while large pigs 

 and their families nose among the 

 slime in .search of food when the mud 

 is exposed. 



Most conspicuous among the numer- 

 ous buildings are several huge struc- 

 tures known as ravis which are the 

 fore-runners of our city clubs. The 

 men foregather within them to smoke, 

 feast, and while away the hours making 

 dance-masks, etc. Twenty years ago, 

 before the government took control, 

 a ravi was the fortress of the village, 

 and the warriors remained on hand 

 ever on the alert against sudden attack. 

 The women and younger children 

 paddled off in their canoes to plantations 

 in the mud, or went in search of shell- 

 fish, crabs, and fish to supply the 

 family larder. But now fighting is 

 forbidden and, save when building 

 canoes or houses, the men have but 

 little to occupy themselves, so they 

 sleep through much of the day, while 

 their women-folk carry on the heavier 

 work as has been decreed by custom. 



Stepping ashore a few days ago, 

 we made our way to the big ravi 

 illustrated in the frontispiece. I took 

 a tape-measure Mith me. and found it 

 to be two hundred and eighty-five 

 feet long and thirty-three feet across 

 the entrance, Avhile its curious peaked 

 top rose to a height of sixty feet. It 

 was short in comparison with a ravi 

 of Kerowa, in Goaribari Island, which 

 Avas four hundred and ninety-five feet 

 from end to end. but its height made it 

 more imposing than the longer one, of 

 which the roof rose to a uniform ele- 

 vation of only fifteen feet. We found 

 a group of men sprawled about the 

 entrance some sleeping, others yarning 

 and smoking, and still others initiating 

 some boys into the art of making fan- 

 tastic masks or '" kaivu kuku."' These 



