Fear Drive My Feet by Peter Ryan

Author:Peter Ryan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Text Publishing Company
Published: 2015-05-19T04:00:00+00:00

V

IT WAS morning. By lantern-light Dinkila prepared a cup of tea, while Watute supervised the lining out of the cargo by the other police, ready for the carriers. The air was cold, and a light breeze was drifting the mist up the valley. The fuzzy hair of the boys was silvered by countless tiny droplets of moisture. The police were reasonably warm in their sweaters, but the carriers, wearing for the most part only a loincloth, shivered as they adjusted ropes and carrying-poles. Those who were not working stood silently by, shoulders hunched and arms clasped across chests to conserve as much bodily warmth as possible. Jock, expecting to return to the Wain shortly, had left all his patrol gear in the camp, and that, together with my own equipment, made a total of twenty-five carrier-loads. The news of our departure would spread quickly, and I hoped the Japanese would not send a patrol to sit astride the Erap, or perhaps wait for us at the canoe landing. To forestall any such move, we would travel rapidly, sleeping the first night at Gain, and the following day pass straight through Bivoro to Kirkland’s. This would require a tremendous spurt, and we took ten extra carriers to relieve the men with the heavier loads from time to time.

We reached Boana Mission not long after sunrise. The buildings had the same ill-omened atmosphere about them as ever: even the usually irrepressible Dinkila was subdued. We stayed only long enough to receive the respects of Singin, tultul of Wampangan, and to give him charge of a case of meat to be handed to the next European who entered the area. Then we moved on through Dzendzen, Kasin, and Wasinim to Gain, and at all these villages relays of people were waiting to take over the carrying, while the village officials, complete with hats, were there to salute me at the roadside as I arrived, and then to bid me farewell.

There was an hour or two of daylight left when we reached Gain, and I was uncertain whether to camp or to push on to Badibo. I decided to camp, but sent Watute ahead to warn the people to be ready to carry next day. The old chap was pretty tired, and said his ‘skin was paining’. However, he rubbed nettles all over his arms, back, and chest, and announced that he felt much better. It was not uncommon to see a native doing this. Once or twice I had inadvertently brushed against a clump of nettles, and the pain was considerable, so I do not know how the boys could have borne to rub them all over themselves, bringing up great weals. No doubt it had some beneficial effect, or else they supposed it did.

The track from Gain was a good one, and before daylight next day we had passed through Badibo, and shortly after dawn arrived at Munkip. Watute had done his job well, as usual, and the people were standing by in readiness.

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