CHAPTER XII.

Native dogs—Their tenacity of life—Return to Yas Plains—The Australian raspberry—Native cherry-tree—The summer season—Tree hoppers—Their clamour—Gannets—Country about the Tumat river—Bugolong—The Black range—A storm—Vicinity of rivers—Native blacks—Their costume and weapons—Wheat-fields—Destructive birds—Winding course of the Murrumbidgee.

Three dingos, or native dogs, (the “Warragul” of the aborigines, Canis Australasiæ, Dem.[86]) were seen about the hills at “Gudarigby,” and the howling of the kangaroo dogs during the night, was the first indication of their prowling about; they are the wolves of the colony, and are perhaps unequalled for cunning. These animals breed in the holes of rocks; a litter was found near Yas Plains, which the discoverer failed to destroy, thinking to return and catch the mother also, and thus destroy the whole family; but the “old lady” must have been watching him, for on his returning a short time after, he found all the little dingos had been carried away, and he was never able, although diligent search was made in the vicinity, to discover their place of removal. The cunning displayed by these animals, and the agony they can endure, without evincing the usual effects of pain, would seem almost incredible, had it not been related by those on whose testimony every dependence can be placed. The following are a few among a number of extraordinary instances.

One had been beaten so severely that it was supposed all the bones were broken, and it was left for dead. After the person had walked some distance, upon accidentally looking back, his surprise was much excited by seeing “master dingo” rise, shake himself, and march into the bush, evading all pursuit.—One, supposed dead, was brought into a hut, for the purpose of undergoing “decortication;” at the commencement of the skinning process upon the face, the only perceptible movement was a slight quivering of the lips, which was regarded at the time as merely muscular irritability: the man, after skinning a very small portion, left the hut to sharpen his knife, and returning found the animal sitting up, with the flayed integument hanging over one side of the face.

Another instance was that of a settler, who, returning from a sporting expedition, with six kangaroo dogs, they met a dingo, which was attacked by the dogs, and worried to such a degree, that finding matters becoming serious, and that the worst of the sport came to his share, the cunning dingo pretended to be dead;—thinking he had departed the way of all dogs, they gave him a parting shake, and left him. Unfortunately for the poor dingo, he was of an impatient disposition, and was consequently premature in his resurrection, for before the settler and his dogs had gone any distance, he was seen to rise and skulk away, but on account of the rough treatment he had received, at a slow pace; the dogs soon re-attacked him, when he was handled in a manner that must have eventually prevented any resuscitation taking place a second time.

These instances may account for the fact why skeletons of the animals are not found in places where they have been left supposed dead. I have more than once been taken where one had been killed, as I desired to have a skeleton; but no remains of the beast were visible in the majority of instances; and crows and hawks do not devour animals, bones and all, in this country.[87] The following anecdote proves that the “dingos,” although cowards when chances are against them, will, like the Chinese, stand battle when numbers and chance of victory are on their side. A native dog attacked a calf, which was driven by a man having a kangaroo dog with him. The hound immediately set upon the dingo, but four more coming to the assistance of their comrade, they tore the kangaroo dog very severely; but the man, by aid of shouting and sticks, drove them away, after much difficulty.

On the 26th of November I returned from “Gudarigby” to Yas Plains, by a longer but better road than that by which I came; passing through a fine open forest and luxuriant pasture land, the distance being eight or nine miles further than by scrambling over the ranges. The Rubus australis, or Australian raspberry, (char, mut’h, mut’h of the Yas natives,) was abundant. The fruit is small, devoid of flavour, but might, perhaps, be improved by cultivation. It may also be an interesting experiment to ascertain how far the Exocarpus cupressiforme, or native cherry-tree, may be made to produce a good edible fruit by grafting or culture. The greatest elevation I have seen this tree attain has been thirty to forty feet, and a diameter of a foot to a foot and a half: the fruit is insignificant, and almost tasteless. There is another species of Exocarpus abundant about Goulburn Plains, and other parts of the colony, shrubby, seldom attaining more than five or six feet elevation; bearing a white, instead of a red fruit, as in the other species just mentioned. The Eucalypti trees were now covered with a profusion of white blossoms, attracting multitudes of parroquets, who revel in the sweets afforded by the nectaries.

As the summer season was now fully set in, (December,) the previous silence of the woods was broken by the incipient, shrill, chirping noises which resounded over them, occasioned by the male Tettigoniæ, or tree hoppers, emerging from the larva into the winged state; the cases the fly had left, being seen on almost every tree or post. This genus is remarkable for the instrument with which it cuts grooves in the wood for the purpose of depositing its eggs. The musical organs, or drums, only found in the males, are not less interesting; and the best published account respecting them is that by Reamur, quoted in the very interesting work, entitled “Insect Miscellanies.” The aborigines call these insects “Galang, galang,” and formerly used them as food; first stripping off the wings, they ate them in the raw state; that is, as the native blacks told me at Yas, “when no white feller here, and black feller no get bread or yam.”

My notice was particularly directed by the natives to the drums in the male insects, as the means by which they produced their thrilling sounds; at the same time adding, in their peculiar English, “Old woman Galang, galang, no got, no make a noise;” implying that the females do not possess these musical instruments. There are several species of this genus known in Australia. During rain, these insects are silent; but recommence their clamour on the reappearance of fine weather. The native blacks at Goulburn Plains told me that the manna produced by one of the Eucalypti trees, (E. mannifera,) was the excrement of this insect: this, probably, arose in their minds, from these insects appearing on the trees in the winged state, about the same time that the manna is secreted.

Several gannets had lately been shot, about the Murrumbidgee and Yas rivers, with plumage of a brownish black colour, bills and legs black: there was, also, a bird occasionally seen in this part of the colony, bearing a close resemblance to the swift, but only seen during the months of February and March, frequenting spots where the grass was on fire, to catch insects, &c. The aborigines of Yas name it “Kriolon,” or “Kriola.”

On the 7th of December, I left Yas for the purpose of visiting the but little known country about the Tumat river. The roads were in excellent condition at this season, and the country around resembled an extensive park. The grass was luxuriant and verdant, having not yet been parched by the summer heats; and travelling was now very agreeable. After passing “Durramgullen,” (a station belonging to Mr. Barber,) and Bowning Hill, or Mountain,[88] (a conspicuous object from all parts of the Yas Plains,) I arrived at “Bugolong,” a cattle station, at the distance of thirteen miles from Yas, belonging to Mr. Hunt, but better known as “Carrol’s Station,”[89] from the name of the overseer or stock-keeper in charge.

I remained here a short time to refresh the horse, as at this station there was abundance of fine grass. The roads were now good; but in the winter season, during wet weather, are almost impassable. The country in its general appearance is broken, but very picturesque; abounding in grass, but in most parts too moist for sheep, although excellent for cattle, which fatten amazingly upon these “runs.” The “Black range” of mountains was passed at the “gap,” through which the road passes before arriving at this station. The waters, flowing from the east side of the “Black range,” fall into the Yas, and those from the west into the Murrumbidgee river; and the Yas empties or unites itself with the Murrumbidgee only a short distance from this station. I was soon again on my journey, being desirous of reaching “Jugiong” by the evening, from which I was now distant eighteen miles.

Before I had proceeded many miles, some heavy clouds which had collected from the westward, poured down a deluge of rain, accompanied by violent peals of thunder and vivid lightning: the electric fluid burst with such crashing sounds, that I expected to see the trees shattered in ten thousand pieces by my side. Not having encumbered myself with a cloak, I was fully exposed to the pelting for nearly half an hour, when wind, rain, and accompaniments subsiding, the reappearance of the sun soon dissipated the moisture from the ground, as also from myself; and by the time I arrived at the end of my journey, my apparel was as dry as when I set out. Although this would have been in our English climate an occurrence injurious to health, yet here it is rare that any ill effects arise from it; the same remark may equally apply to the custom of sleeping in the bush at night when travelling, from which no traveller has been known to sustain injury. The road continued excellent as I proceeded; but during the wet season is probably (being similar to that before passed over) nearly impassable. The feature of the country was open forest, abounding in luxuriant grass: occasionally a denser forest would vary the scene; the hills were thinly wooded, and the declivities carpeted with verdure.

At last, the gloomy appearance and peculiar growth of the “swamp oaks” indicated the vicinity of a creek, which emptied itself into the Murrumbidgee river; and, on ascending the hill near it, the ripe wheat field, and mud hovel appeared; and large “swamp oaks,” “water gum,” and other trees, directed my attention to the situation where the Murrumbidgee river flowed: this was the station named “Jugiong,” the property of Henry O’Brien, Esq.; and, descending the hill, I arrived at the dirty hut of the station, my only place of rest for the night, after a journey of thirty-six miles.

I found in this, as in other instances, more animation and beauty in the vicinity of a river, than in other portions of the land; imparting cheerfulness to the traveller, as well as to the whole animal creation. The numerous feathered tribe welcome him with songs and chirpings, rarely heard in the less watered and gloomy places, so much abounding in the colony: a livelier green is seen in the foliage of the trees; pasturage and flowering shrubs cast a beauty over the soil, and the journey about such places is less fatiguing, because it is more interesting and cheering. It was not long since that marked trees alone guided the traveller to these stations; whereas, now a well-beaten road, passable even for gigs, has been formed, making travelling upon it very agreeable.

On my arrival at this station, I found a number of the native blacks collected about, all, even the ladies, in a state of nudity, “naked, but not ashamed:” some were busily employed in making rude spears, by sharpening the point of a long stick, which was afterwards hardened in the fire: they were preparing to hunt their “evening prey.” “Give them,” the men at the stations observe, “ever so much bread or meat, still they will hunt opossum and other game.” The spears they used, were twelve or fourteen feet in length. On a sunny day, when there is little wind, the water clear, and comparatively tranquil, the aborigines go on the river in small bark canoes to spear fish, more particularly about the rocky parts of the river, and usually return with a large quantity: they also spear the “water-mole,” (Ornithorynchus,) if they observe any during the river excursion. Nothing comes amiss to the blacks for food: they may be said to devour “every living thing that runs upon the surface of the earth, or in the waters beneath.”

I was examining the fine muscular structure, and the raised cicatrices, which were numerous over the arms and chest, of one of the natives, (and which he regarded as highly ornamental,) when, puzzled to ascertain the meaning of my curiosity, after I had finished, he whispered to the stock-keeper, if “he white feller gentleman ever see black feller before.” But as for procuring an examination of their phrenological organs, it was a labour of some difficulty, and even danger; for they seemed to regard it as witchcraft, or some magic ceremony: and when they even did submit, they evinced much fear, and preserved a very serious countenance during the operation, as if dreading the result; similar to young ladies, when under Deville’s hands for the same purpose, their secretiveness and caution being overcome in some degree, by curiosity.[90]

The field of wheat at this station being just ripe, a man was obliged to be almost constantly on the watch, to prevent the “white cockatoos” from attacking and destroying it. These birds are named “Wagara,” or “Muruen,” by the aborigines: they were not yet very numerous, as the harvest was earlier than usual; but last year, I was told, the season was later, and the crops were nearly destroyed, for they came in immense flocks; and although many were killed, it did not deter the others from attacking the grain. The reason given, why they were not now so numerous, was, that the young cockatoos were not sufficiently fledged to leave the nest; so the reaper’s song might be, “Fly not yet, little cockies;” for the old birds, rearing their progeny in a way to provide themselves with the necessaries of life, bring them in multitudes to attack a field of corn or grain, and are then so bold, as to be with great difficulty frightened away, although the deaths of hundreds may be the consequence; but, fortunately for the settler, the harvest was this season in a more forward state, and the little cockies not being in “full feather,” there was comparatively but few marauders.

The way “the mob” of these screaming and destructive birds attack a field of grain, (or the cobs of corn in a maize field,) is to fly against, bear down the stalks with their weight, perch upon the fallen ears, and speedily destroy them.[91] Like all the parrot tribe, they construct no nest, but lay their eggs in a hollow branch or “spout” of a tree, clearing it of the rotten wood within, except a small quantity at the bottom, on which the eggs are laid, and the young ones afterwards repose.

It was related to me, that formerly such multitudes of parrots would beset a field of grain, as to oblige a settler to employ a number of men expressly to drive them away; and even then it was done with difficulty. This is now rare: which circumstance is not attributed to any depopulation of the “Polly” tribe, but from cultivation having become more extended; the parrot population being now divided in flocks about the different fields, when formerly they made their formidable attacks upon one or two only, and then in such numbers, that, left undisturbed for only a few hours, it would suffice to destroy the hopes of the settler, at all events for that season. It was computed that thirty or forty thousand of these birds were about the field at one time; and from what I saw, I do not consider the numbers were exaggerated. It is not only ripe grain that suffers from them, but, when it commences to vegetate, they assemble in immense flocks, to root up and devour it. The Loris are said to migrate from the Yas country in the summer, returning in the winter season: whether for food, or from what cause I could not ascertain.

Near this station, (Jugiong,) the Murrumbidgee river takes a peculiar winding course, so as to form an extensive piece of excellent grazing land, almost into an island. By standing on the hill (marked A, in the following diagram,) the river is seen flowing on each side, after having made an extensive circuit.