CHAPTER II DISAPPOINTMENTS IN DUTCH NEW GUINEA As we approached the shores of Dutch New Guinea, we first descried low-lying tracts of marshy land. To the water’s edge came tall trees loaded with orchids of the most brilliant hues and of many varieties, notably the Dendrobium. The mangrove swamps, elsewhere so common in New Guinea, were here entirely absent. Under the trees, close even to the water’s brink, could be seen a dense tangled undergrowth. There was no beach, only muddy shores. At low tide the water recedes, probably for a quarter of a mile, leaving hard mud flats capable of sustaining men bare-foot. During the winter monsoon a heavy surf would break on these flats, but we arrived in fine weather, and the water was perfectly calm. Of course, the _Neas_ could not go inshore, but had to stand off to a distance of at least ten miles, and we had to land by the boat. A prominent feature of the landscape was a great spreading tree, which the Dutch sailors had taken as their chief bearing for finding the mouth of the Merauke River. Had the hostile natives only known how the access to their jealously guarded territory depended upon that one landmark, it would certainly not have been allowed to stand long. These characteristic shores fringe the mouth of the Merauke River, which empties itself through a small estuary about three times as wide as the Thames at Greenwich. It is navigable for about six miles, and at the furthest end it so narrows that the vessel could be put about only by a clever manœuvre, during which her bow and stern all but touched the banks. With a small survey boat, however, such as the _Neas_, drawing from 10 to 12 feet of water, the river may be navigated for about 160 miles. From larger vessels lying in the river off the new Dutch settlement of Merauke, which was our point of arrival, it was usual to land in a small dinghy.