‘Clever,’ said the kiap.

‘When the raiders came and saw the village, their leaders called out to the cowards who’d left their women undefended, and drove their canoes onto the sand. They charged the houses and found them empty, just shells and pretence. Shouting and angry, they pushed off into the water again. That’s when the hidden canoes appeared, easily outrunning them. Jiwu’s men kept the raiders away from the shore and threw their own poisoned spears from beyond the range of the raiders’ reach.

‘Only a few of the enemy made it back up the coast and they never came near here again. They were sometimes seen far out on the horizon but that’s all. By the time Monckton arrived, the land here was secured.’

‘Good story!’ said the kiap, opening more beer, his expression jovial. ‘The only one I know is that a man from one of these villages went up to the top of the mountain behind here just before the Merrie England came along the coast. On the way up he saw a snake that told him the ancestors were coming back in a new form, and when the people saw them they were to give them houses and be sure not to kill them. That’s what set Monckton up. They thought he was an ancestor.’

Aaron didn’t respond. It was a common story that could be heard from old-timers anywhere along the coast - which didn’t make it true. He refused the offer of another drink, lit a cigarette and continued in the same level voice. ‘When the Merrie England came back for the second time, putting Monckton and his supplies ashore, Jiwu was on the headland to greet him. Monckton recognised at once that he was a powerful warrior, and that something had changed. Standing with him were his seven sons. He was living here, right here where the station is. It was his mother’s brothers’ land. Jiwu invited Monckton to sleep in the house he’d built here, and showed him where to put his canvas bed. Just as he was falling asleep, Jiwu told him he was resting on the exact spot where he’d kept the dead body of the raiding chief.’

‘Ah,’ the kiap said. Then he rallied. ‘Monckton got the land off the old bugger though, didn’t he?’

‘For a few trinkets, yes, and with a deceit Jiwu never forgave. The land the governor had chosen – and paid for – was further round the point. Monckton built right here, over Jiwu’s house.’

‘What did Jiwu do?’ This was from Rika.

‘Nothing this time. He knew he couldn’t win head-on. So he watched and waited. Let Monckton think he was a friend. Got him to settle scores with the Doriri, their inland enemy.’

‘A tactician,’ Rika said. ‘Like Somare.’

‘And all the time he turned his mind with the ghost thought that when Monckton returned to his own place, he’d find it barren.’

‘What happened to him?’ the kiap asked.

‘He left in disgrace when Murray became governor. Too many unexplained shootings. He went back to New Zealand and married.’