CHAPTER XIV _A FORTY-MILE TRAMP BY THE SHORE_ A Comfortless Voyage—A Forty-Mile Tramp along the Coast—Wonders of the Beach—Armies of Soldier-Crabs—A Crocodile River—A Dangerous Canoe Voyage—At Port Moresby—A Pathetic Incident—Last Days of our Stay in New Guinea. CHAPTER XIV A FORTY-MILE TRAMP BY THE SHORE At Pokama we got on board a vessel very heavily laden with sandalwood. I did not notice how perilously deep she was in the water until after we had put to sea. This promised a voyage of great discomfort, and Harry shortly became very sick. Partly on this account, and partly because we wanted to see a certain part of the coast more minutely, we went ashore in a small boat, and slept that night at the house of a coloured teacher in the service of the London Missionary Society. Next morning we set out on foot for Manu-Manu, forty miles distant, a long and very toilsome tramp, often rendered doubly difficult by the uncertain sands of the beach. Where the tide had left it wet we found it as firm to walk upon as a bicycle track, but in the dry sand we often sunk to our knees. Harry, especially, suffered severely, and his ankles were sore for a long time after. The heat also was terrific, and added greatly to our discomfort; but the walk was not without its interest and its diversion, although in point of scenery it was rather monotonous. Very conspicuous on the fringe of the coast vegetation was the true species of the shore Pandanus. Inland was dense forest, diversified with patches of grass and marshland. Our itinerary was as follows: Our first stage was twenty-two miles from Giabada to Issu, the way being greatly lengthened by the need to follow the bend of ever-recurring bays, where the treacherous sand and the lack of shelter from the sun proved particularly trying. But at this part of the march we saw one of the most extraordinary sights of all our travels—many thousands of soldier-crabs traversing the sandy beach in detached, regularly ordered bodies that moved evidently by the signal of some common commander. These “armed battalions” stretched for miles, and no matter what figure they assumed—whether wedge, triangle, or rhombus—the dressing, so to speak, of the outer ranks was perfect, and would have put many a Volunteer corps to shame. Not a crab was out of line. The advance was fairly rapid, and was always towards the sea, for a distance of, say, two hundred yards. When the crabs come out of their holes in the sand they throw themselves into this compact formation probably for safety. There was no walking along the beach for them—scarcely a clear hundred yards for miles. When approached, they quickened their pace perceptibly.