On one occasion a medicine-man was attending to a patient outside a house in the village. The natives sitting round told me he had already extracted a pebble from one invalid and another cure was about to take place. I expressed a wish to see the next stone which should be removed, and waited patiently while the medicine-man rubbed on. At last he stopped and, with clenched fist, called upon me to watch. This I did, and he slowly opened his hand and, disclosing an empty palm, cried triumphantly, "It is gone!" The natives were much impressed, but I must say I should have preferred one glimpse of the magic cause of disease before it vanished. The weather in Papua is divided into two seasons only--wet and dry. The former is the summer, the latter the winter, but very little difference in temperature is noticeable. During the wet season thunderstorms may be expected, and some of these are truly terrible. I have seen even a white man look alarmed as great claps of thunder, following on vivid flashes of lightning, seemed to be cleaving asunder the roof over our heads. When to these are added strong wind and sheets of driving rain, the situation becomes distinctly unpleasant. Like all savage races the Papuans have many superstitions, which appear to vary according to the tribe. The Wedauans, for example, had a belief that most of the unseen spirits around them were actively malignant. There was a certain kind of eel which must not be eaten, or probably a disastrous flood would follow, while if a native wanted to cut down a tree he had to beware lest there was a _kokome_ (dryad) living in it. If the _kokome_ were annoyed it might cause the offender's face to swell and his skin to prick. One of the worst possible offences against hidden powers was breaking a "tabu." "Tabu" was placed on all sorts of things--perhaps a certain coco-nut palm, or across a path. It was usually made of two upright sticks, with a crosspiece, on which were hung coco-nut leaf and husk. This was called an "iribubu," and was safeguarded by an incantation. It took a very reckless man or woman to disregard an "iribubu," for unless the enchanter was willing to accept a bribe he would not remove the charm, and the victim, so the natives thought, must die. [Illustration: A PARTY OF COLLINGWOOD BAY NATIVES ON A HUNTING EXPEDITION. _From a Photograph._] A witch I knew lost her husband, and his death was put down to his wife's machinations. Nevertheless, the polite Papuan women came to blend their voices with the wailing of the newly-made widow. In a few years, spite of her uncanny reputation, the witch-widow became a wife once more. Her second husband must have been a brave man, or possibly he was a sorcerer, and intended to counteract his wife's powers with more potent charms than her own. [Illustration: NATIVES ASSEMBLED FOR A PIG-FEAST--IT IS ETIQUETTE IN PAPUA TO EAT NOTHING BUT TO CARRY AWAY EVERYTHING. _From a Photograph._]