Reach Kaiser Wilhelm's land and leave steamer. Am hearing terrible stories about the natives, men who eat an antelope at a meal, women with pompadours three feet high; also hear about snakes ninety-five feet long, but the stories come from natives who cannot count higher than the number 5. April 18. Catch excursion boat at Cape Croiselles and start west in search of village where the inhabitants live in nests in the trees. Captain and mate are from Adalaide, Australia, out for the season on about the same kind of a mission that I am. Captain continually teasing me that I am about at the end of my rope. Says he will write to Chicago and inform them that I escaped a Jonah whale only to be swallowed by a Guinea nigger. The mate says he will venture into the interior with me, at which I assure him if he will not attempt to coquette with the ladies he will not be hurt. Of course, I advise the captain to stay by his anchor and avoid temptation, for I tell him I see by the size and shape of his neck that he would become completely betwaddled in the presence of nature's fair adornments, or Papuan simplicity. April 19. The mate, guide, three stalwart blacks and myself leave the boat in the night. Several miles in we cross a clear running brook, through which we wade to our hips. After climbing several mountain trails we continue for five or six miles along a zigzag course under the brow of a mountain range, crossing ravines in which the large birds, all of them beautiful in color, do not seem to fear us or fly at our approach. At openings I can view the evergreen, palm tree valley below, which seems awaking from its dreams to greet the rising sun. I call a halt and look and listen, for I am charmed. About ten o'clock, when motioned by our guide, we somewhat nervously follow him to a crystal lake, surrounded by tropical verdure, where we were confronted with from sixty to one hundred houses or nests built in the trees covered, water-proof tight, with a sort of long sea grass, which grows abundantly in all tropical marshes. Apparently some of the larger dwellings, like those of the Alaska Indians, would accommodate several families. Here and there naked people, looking out or climbing up or down the swinging ladders. The king, a young fellow, after learning our wants, invites us to stay a moon, which I think would have been perfectly safe if we did not wander away from the village. I then presented the king with the presents I had brought, six large jack knives and six cheap hatchets, after which they began to show us things, how and what they cooked, how they caught game, fight, dance, worship and lastly how they clear a guilty conscience. [Illustration: NEW GUINEA. HOME OF THE NAKED PEOPLE WHO BUILD THEIR HOUSES IN THE TREES.] This is done by immersion in clear water by moonlight, when the god in the moon forgives all. They believe that the souls of the dead linger around those whom they loved on earth.