worry
And don’t worry2
The sound of yelling, half heard, penetrated the place to where he had drifted, arousing his slight interest, but he only assumed the porters were playing football.
No I don’t want a battle from beginning to end
I don’t want a cycle of recycled revenge
I don’t want to follow death and all of his friends
No I don’t want a battle from beginning to end
I don’t want a cycle of recycled revenge
I don’t want to follow death and all of his friends3
The shouting became louder and more urgent. Zoltan’s interest in the music waned and he wondered if perhaps he was missing out on something, perhaps in the way of entertainment.
He sat up, removed his headphones and searched around the tent for his boots. Before he could reach his footwear, a large rent suddenly appeared in the tent wall near its entrance. He stared at the hole, unable to comprehend how it got there. In a single flash, the whole wall on that side of the tent vanished. There, standing over him, was a nightmarish figure of a man.
The man was dressed in black clothing, with a black hood covering his head. In his right hand he held a long bush knife, the kind the porters used to clear away the jungle. Clearly, this man had slashed the tent open, and for a long moment the two men regarded each other in silence. Zoltan felt numb, incapable of any reaction to the sudden confrontation, while the man seemed both surprised and angry to see Zoltan. The hood masked the man’s facial features, but Zoltan could see his eyes, huge and saucer-like, staring down at him from within the shadow of his cowl. Finally, the man shouted some kind of demand that Zoltan couldn’t understand. With a scream of utter fury the man sprang forward, and with the flat of the bush knife blade began to rain heavy, body-numbing blows upon the prostrated Zoltan.
Zoltan tried to stand up, but heavy blows and more screaming drove him back onto the ground, where he curled up and tried to protect his head with his arms. The blows hurt, really hurt, and amid the pain he asked himself frantic questions. Why was this happening to him? What had happened to his friends? Who was this man? What did he want?
Zoltan thought that unless something was done, this man was going to beat him to death. He began to scream back at his attacker, pleading with him to stop, promising he would do whatever he wanted. But Zoltan’s shouts only served to further infuriate his attacker, who began to hit harder, and harder.
_________
1 Coldplay, ‘Death and All His Friends’, Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends, EMI/Parlophone/Capitol, 2008.
2 ibid.
3 ibid.
Chapter 1
The Black Cat Track
Chaos was the law of nature; Order was the dream of man.1
The Black Cat Track runs between Salamaua on the northern coast and Wau in the highlands of the Morobe Province of Papua New Guinea. Tourist pamphlets and tour guide websites tell enthusiastically of magnificent scenery, exotic flora and fauna, and of the people of an ancient and mysterious culture who live along the track. Yet in spite of these glowing testimonials, the Black Cat Track is no tourist nirvana. It is reputed to be one of the toughest tracks to negotiate in the world, and is a place of blood and pain, born to chaos.
The early history of the people of the region through which the track wends its torturous way was characterised by violence. The various tribal groups in the area were quick to anger, deeply suspicious of strangers, practised ritual head-hunting and cannibalism, and conducted raids on other communities for slaves. Each act of violence was reciprocated, paid back, with more violence, continuing until the honour of both sides was satisfied either in blood, or through the exchange of gifts of value, such as land or pigs. Even after the advent of European influence in the region, change to this way of life was slow and strongly resisted by the local people.
In 1910, Canadian prospector Arthur Darling discovered gold somewhere in the wild and unexplored country of the upper Bulolo Valley in New Guinea’s Morobe Province. At the time, the region was under the colonial control of Germany, though German administration and commercial operations were generally limited to the coastal regions. Darling’s discovery was in the streams around the village of Wau, a four-day trek into the interior. But before he could explore the full potential of the find, he and his party were attacked by the local Biangai people and forced to withdraw from the area.
The German administration of the province encouraged the exploitation of local resources, but they also demanded a cut of any wealth generated for the German government. On his return to the coast, Darling denied the Administration any hint of what he had found. He clearly planned to exploit the find for himself and avoid paying any kind of tribute to Germany. However, he did share knowledge of his find with his mate, William ‘Sharkeye’ Park.
Unfortunately for Darling, he died in 1921 before he could realise his plans for the gold, but luck had certainly smiled on Sharkeye Park, who was left with the details of his friend’s bonanza. Sharkeye had no doubt that Darling’s story of gold was true. However, it would not be until 1922 that he, in the company of several other white prospectors, was able to act on this knowledge and mount a successful expedition to find Darling’s gold. Indeed the location Darling had provided was to yield a sizeable deposit of gold, and in less hazardous circumstances would almost certainly have led to a major gold rush. But at that time the remoteness of the region, the harshness of the terrain, and the aggressive nature of the local people, who were strongly rumoured to be cannibals, served at least as a temporary deterrent to a mass rush for riches. These fears were gradually overcome, and by 1926 around 219 European miners and 1324 coastal labourers had invaded the Wau-Bulolo Valley, where they had established numerous mining operations.2
It was during this period of initial exploitation of the region that prospectors forced a new track from Salamaua to Wau. Using the most direct route possible, these trailblazers paid little attention to the difficult and hazardous terrain, but pushed onward toward their goal. The track they blazed was approximately sixty-one kilometres in length and passed through swamps, forests of kunai grass and dense jungle. It crossed rivers and creeks, traversed along the western edge of the Bitoi River gorge, and up and over numerous steep and rugged ridgelines. At around the forty-six-kilometre mark when travelling from Salamaua, and approximately fifteen kilometres to the northeast of the track’s endpoint at Wau, the track passed a large open-cut goldmine known as the Black Cat, and this mine gave its name to the new track.
Those who chose this pathway had to endure tropical heat, torrential rain and, on the higher features of the trek, freezing cold. Leeches and mosquitoes were their almost constant companions, while along the way snakes and crocodiles might also be encountered. When it rained, which was often, the track turned to mud that clung to the feet and legs of a traveller, making basic movement an energy-sapping experience. Rain also turned the steep slopes into dangerous, slippery obstacles precipitating catastrophic falls that often resulted in injury. Disease, particularly malaria, was an ever-present menace, adding to the dangers of the track. It took a minimum of four days hard trekking to traverse this track from start to finish, and almost always the conditions exacted a toll in men, mules and equipment.
The Black Cat Track remained a major supply route and played an important role in the development of the region’s gold mining industry until 1927. In April of that year, Mr Ernest Mustar landed the first aircraft at Wau on a newly constructed landing strip. This single action was to
