GOOD-BYE TO DINAWA 
had heard of the white men’s coming, had been 
sufficiently overcome with curiosity to make the 
journey from their distant home to visit us. At that 
home of theirs, far away on one of the greater 
mountain sides of the Owen Stanley range, I had 
often gazed with wonder and all the explorer’s long- 
ing. Some five or six days’ journey to the north 
towered a great and mysterious peak, higher than 
Mount Yule, the northern slopes of which I imagine 
were in German territory. Close to this mountain 
was a range of low foot-hills, bare of trees, but 
clothed, as far as we could make out through our 
glasses, with rich pasturage, and it seemed an ideal 
spot for some future stock-breeder in New Guinea, 
for such open spaces for grazing-grounds are un- 
common in the island. From these foot-hills there 
rose continually into the clear air countless columns 
of pale blue smoke, telling of a numerous popula- 
tion. On the mountain the forests hung dense 
to the summit, but the strangest thing of all was 
that through these masses of trees there ran what 
seemed like a drive, rising straight to the highest 
ridge, its sides as sharply and clearly marked as 
though it had been cleared by the hand of man. 
There were no straggling trees dotted here and there 
at irregular intervals from the sides. The forest left 
off sharply in an ascending line, but the space seemed 
to extend for at least 300 yards, and then the forest 
began again, being as clearly defined as the side of a 
well-built street. On the very summit we could make 
out through our glasses the presence of giant arau- 
carias, of which I obtained some specimens from Sam, 
AO 
