Missionaries and Government workers alike encouraged village people to commence micro cattle projects as one spoke in the overall wheel of development. A wheel which was for some older Papua New Guineans to propel them from stone age to the jet age within the space of one single lifetime.
That is worth thinking about. It is both an extraordinary proposition and no mean achievement.
The "flying bull procedure" involved sedating the young animal with injected xylazine, trussing it up with rope, and securing it as tightly as possible to anchor points on the floor of the aircraft where the passenger seats used to be. (Cessna 206's in flight would very likely respond unfavourably to 200 kg of bull suddenly transferring itself into the rear baggage zone)
Then get to the destination quickly, for it is vital for the animal's health that the antidote be administered as soon as possible.
Some cattle ventures it would seem were just not meant to be.
Attempt one for a little village in the Kua valley saw the bull removed from the plane, woken up, and he was last seen galloping off back down the airstrip in the direction of the jungle.
Being faithful Lutherans, the village elders quickly determined the reason for this misadventure. Religious Papua New Guineans have a penchant for blessing anything new before using it.
Houses, roads, bridges and trade stores all require this protective ritual. This bull mishap was due to the absence of blessing.
Attempt No 2. Bull flown in, lifted down onto the grass of the aircraft parking bay, ropes removed, and just as the sedative antidote was about to be injected, the elders intervened insisting upon firstly discharging their religious obligations.
The prayers and sermons were plentiful and protracted, and the bull, either from the sheer boredom of subconsciously listening to it all, or from the effects of delayed provision of antidote, died on the spot.
The people must have some lingering doubt to this very day as to whether or not God is fully supportive of their cattle industry.