The uncivilized races of men in all countries of the world; vol. 1 of 2 / Being a comprehensive account of their manners and customs, and of their physical, social, mental, moral and religious characteristics

by J. G. Wood

MADAGASCAR.

We complete the account of African tribes with a brief notice of some of the tribes which inhabit the island of Madagascar. For my information I am chiefly indebted to Ellis’s well-known work, and to a valuable paper read by Lieutenant Oliver, R. A., before the Anthropological Society of London. on March 3, 1868.

The name of Madagascar is entirely of European invention, the native name for this great island being Nosindambo, i. e. the island of wild hogs. The inhabitants are known by the general name of Malagasy, and they are divided into several tribes. These tribes differ from each other in their color, mode of dress, and other particulars, and may be roughly divided according to their color into the fair and the dark tribes, each consisting of four in number, and ranging through almost every shade of skin, from the light olive of the Hovas to the black tribes of the south. According to Ellis the entire population is only three millions, while Lieutenant Oliver, who gives the approximate numbers of each tribe, estimates them at five millions.

The origin of the Malagasy is rather obscure, and, although so close to the continent of Africa, they have scarcely anything in common with the African races. The hypothesis which has been generally accepted is that they are of Malay origin, their ancestors having been in all probability blown out to sea in their canoes, and eventually landed on the island. That they are not of African origin has been argued from several points, while they have many habits belonging to the oceanic race. For example, although they are so close to Africa, they have never adopted the skin dresses which are generally found throughout the savage races of the continent, but, on the contrary, make use of the hibiscus bark beaten out exactly after the fashion of the Polynesians.

“It is evident,” writes Lieutenant Oliver, “that the Malagasy have never deteriorated from any original condition of civilization, for there are no relics of primæval civilization to be found in the country. Yet the Malagasy seem to have considerably advanced themselves in the art of building houses, and originating elaborate fortifications, which they have themselves modified to suit their offensive and defensive weapons, previous to any known intercourse with civilized people. They had domesticated oxen, and pigs, and made advances in the cultivation of rice, yams, &c.; but whether by their own unaided intellect, or by external example, we cannot say.”

With regard to the domestication of cattle, they themselves refer it to a very recent date, and even state that the use of beef was accidentally discovered during the last century. A chief named Rabiby was superintending the planting of his rice, when he noticed that one of his men was remarkable for his increase in strength and corpulence, and interrogated him on the subject. The man told him that some time previously he happened to kill a bullock, and had the curiosity to cook some of the meat. Finding it to be remarkably good, he continued to kill and eat, and so improved his bodily condition. Rabiby very wisely tried the experiment for himself, and, finding it successful, had a bullock killed, and gave a feast to his companions. The general impression was so favorable that he gave orders for building folds in which the cattle might be collected, and he further extended the native diet by the flesh of the wild hog. The original folds built by his orders are still in existence.

Chief among the Malagasy are the Hova tribe, who have gradually extended themselves over a considerable portion of the island, and are now virtually its masters. They are the lightest in color of all the tribes, and have more of the Spanish than the negro expression. The hair is black, long, and abundant, and is worn in several fashions. The men usually cut the hair rather short, and arrange it over the forehead and temples much after the style that was prevalent in the days of the Regency. The women spend much time over their hair, sometimes frizzing it out until they remind the spectator of the Fiji race, and sometimes plaiting it into an infinity of braids, and tying them in small knots or bunches all over the head.

Their dress has something of the Abyssinian type. Poor people wear little except a cloth twisted round their loins, while the more wealthy wear a shirt covered with a mantle called a lamba. This article of apparel is disposed as variously as the Abyssinian’s tobe. The Hovas are distinguished by having their lambas edged with a border of five broad stripes. Their houses, to which allusion has already been made, are formed exclusively of vegetable materials. The walls are formed by driving rows of posts into the ground at unequal distances, and filling in the spaces with the strong leaf-stalks of the “traveller’s tree.” Each leaf-stalk is about ten feet in length, and they are fixed in their places by flat laths. The roof is thatched with the broad leaves of the same tree, tied firmly on the very steep rafters. The eaves project well beyond the walls, so as to form a veranda round the house, under which the benches are placed. The floor is covered with a sort of boarding made of the traveller’s tree. The bark is stripped off and beaten flat, so as to form boards of twenty feet or so in length, and fifteen inches in width. These boards are laid on the floor, and, although they are not nailed, they keep their places firmly.

TRAVELLING IN MADAGASCAR.
(See [page 693].)

This traveller’s tree is one of the most useful plants in Madagascar. It is a sort of palm, and its broad leaves, besides supplying thatch and walls for the houses, furnish a copious supply of fresh water. The water is found in the hollow formed by the manner in which the base of the leaf-stem embraces the trunk from which it springs, and the liquid is obtained by piercing the leaf-stem with a spear. A full quart of water is obtained from each leaf, and it is so pure that the natives will rather walk a little distance to a traveller’s tree, than supply themselves with water from a stream at their feet.

The Malagasy have some knowledge of musical sounds, and have invented some instruments which are far superior to those of the African tribes. One of the best is the violin. It is played with a bow equally rude in character, and, although the sounds which it produces are not particularly harmonious to English ears, they are at all events quite as agreeable as those produced by the stringed instruments of China, Japan, or Turkey.

Slavery exists among the Malagasy, but is not of a very severe character, and may possibly, through the exertions of the missionaries, become extinguished altogether. The slaves do all the hard work of the place, which is really not very hard, and, as they take plenty of time over everything that they do, their work would be thought very light by an ordinary English laborer. Drawing water is perhaps the hardest labor the female slaves undergo, and it is not such very hard work after all. They draw the water by means of cows’ horns tied to ropes, and pour it into ingenious pails made of bamboo. The hardest work which the men do is acting as bearer to their master’s hammock or litter, and, as the roads often lie through uncleared forests, and are very rough and rocky, they have a fatiguing task. These litters are very convenient, and are covered with a roof to shield the occupant from the sun. They are rather unwieldy, and sometimes as many as twenty or thirty men are attached to each litter, some bearing the poles on their shoulders, and others dragging it by ropes, while the whole proceedings are directed by a superintendent. The [engraving] on the preceding page illustrates the mode of travelling in Madagascar.

Within the last few years, Christianity has made wonderful progress among the Malagasy, although at first missionaries were driven out, and the native converts put to death with frightful tortures. The old superstitions, however, still remain, but they are of a more harmless character than is generally the case with the superstitions of a people who are only beginning to emerge out of the savage state. All reptiles, especially snakes, are regarded with great veneration. Whether any of the serpents are poisonous is not clearly ascertained, though the natives deny that venomous snakes are found on the island. Be this as it may, they never kill a snake, and, even if a large serpent should come into their house, they merely guide it through the doorway with sticks, telling it to go away.

They do not appear to possess idols, though Mr. Ellis found certain objects to which a sort of worship was paid. These were simply “pieces of wood about nine feet high, not square and smooth at the base, but spreading into two or three branches at about five feet from the ground, and gradually tapering to a point.” Near them was a large basaltic stone, about five feet high, and of its natural prismatic form, and near it was another stone, smooth and rounded, and about as large as a man’s head. The natives said that blood was poured on one stone, and fat burned on the other, but they were very averse to any conversation on the subject, and very probably did not tell the truth.

Some of their domestic superstitions—if we may use such a term—are rather curious. Mr. Ellis had noticed that on several occasions a spot of white paint had been placed on the forehead, or a white circle drawn round the eye. One morning, he found these marks adorning nearly the whole of his bearers. On inquiring into the cause of this decoration, he found that it was a charm to avert the consequences of bad dreams. As, however, they had partaken copiously of beef on the preceding evening, the cause of the bad dreams was clearly more material than spiritual.

Partly connected with their superstitious ideas is the existence of a distinct class, the Zanakambony. They are hereditary blacksmiths, and are exempt from forced labor except in their own line, so that, as Lieutenant Oliver writes, they will make a spade, but cannot be compelled to use it. They have the right of carrying deceased kings to the grave, and building monuments over them. They are very proud, and behave most arrogantly to other clans, refusing to associate with them, to eat with them, or even to lend them any article to be defiled by the touch of plebeian hands. As they will not even condescend to the ordinary labor of their countrymen, and think that even to build a house is a degradation, they are very poor; as they refuse to associate with others, they are very ignorant, but they console themselves for their inferiority in wealth and learning by constantly dwelling on their enormous superiority in rank.

CHAPTER LXIX.
AUSTRALIA.

THE NATIVE AUSTRALIANS — THE GENERAL CONFORMATION OF THE HEAD AND FEATURES — THEIR AVERAGE STATURE AND FORM — THE WOMEN AND THEIR APPEARANCE — CHARACTER OF THE NATIVES — THEIR THIEVISH PROPENSITIES — THEIR CUNNING, AND POWER OF DISSIMULATION — A PAIR OF CLEVER THIEVES — THE “GOOD NATIVE” — A CLEVER OLD WOMAN — INCENTIVES TO ROBBERY — HIDEOUS ASPECT OF THE OLD WOMEN — A REPULSIVE SUBJECT FOR AN ARTIST — YOUNGER WOMEN OF SAME TRIBE — THEIR STRANGE DRESS — THE CIRCULAR MAT CLOAK AND ITS USES — THE NATIVE BASKET — TREACHEROUS CHARACTER OF THE NATIVES — MR. BAINES’S NARRATIVE — THE OUTRIGGER CANOE OF NORTH AUSTRALIA, AND ITS PROBABLE ORIGIN — PIPE, AND MODE OF SMOKING — THE MAMMALS OF AUSTRALIA, AND THEIR MARSUPIAL CHARACTER — CONFUSION OF NOMENCLATURE — EFFECT OF THE ANIMALS ON THE HUMAN INHABITANTS OF THE COUNTRY — PRIMARY USE OF WEAPONS.

Following up the principle of taking the least civilized races in succession, we naturally pass to the great continent of Australia and its adjacent islands.

This wonderful country holds a sort of isolated position on the earth, owing to the curious contrast which reigns between it and all the lands with which we are familiar. It is situated, as my readers will see by reference to a map, just below the equator, and extends some forty degrees southward, thus having at its northern extremity a heat which is tropical, and at its southern point a climate as cold as our own. But there is perhaps no country where the temperature is so variable as Australia, and there is one instance recorded where the thermometer registered a change of fifty degrees in twenty-five minutes. This sudden change is owing to the winds, which if they blow from the sea are cool, but if they blow toward the coast, after passing over the heated sand-wastes of the interior, raise the temperature in the extraordinary manner which has been mentioned. Still, the climate, changeable though it be, is a pleasant one; and the colonists who visit England nearly always grumble at the damp climate of the mother country, and long to be back again in Australia. Both the animal and vegetable products of this country are strangely unlike those of other lands, but, as we shall have occasion to describe them in the course of the following pages, they will not be mentioned at present; and we will proceed at once to the human inhabitants of Australia.

It is exceedingly difficult, not to say impossible, to treat of the aborigines of Australia with much accuracy of system. Differing as do the tribes with which we are acquainted in many minor particulars, they all agree in general characteristics: and, whether a native be taken from the north or south of the vast Australian continent, there is a similitude of habits and a cast of features which point him out at once as an Australian.

The plan that will be adopted will therefore be to give a general sketch of the natives, together with an account of those habits in which they agree, and then to glance over as much of Australia as travellers have laid open to us, and to mention briefly the most interesting of the manners and customs which exist in the several tribes.

In color the Australians are quite black, as dark indeed as the negro, but with nothing of the negro character in the face. The forehead does not recede like that of the negro; and though the nose is wide, the mouth large, and the lips thick, there is none of that projection of jaw which renders the pure negro face so repulsive. The eye is small, dark, and, being deeply sunken, it gives to the brows a heavy, overhanging sort of look. The hair is by no means close and woolly, like that of the negro, but is plentiful, rather long, and disposed to curl, mostly undulating, and sometimes even taking the form of ringlets. In texture it is very coarse and harsh, but cannot be described as wool.

The beard and moustache are very thick and full, and the men take a pride in these ornaments, sometimes twisting the beard into curious shapes. Indeed, as a rule they are a hairy race. There is now before me a large collection of photographs of native Australians, in many of which the men are remarkable for the thickness of the beard, and some of them have their faces so heavily bearded that scarcely the nose is perceptible among the mass of hair that covers the cheeks nearly up to the eyes. Several of the elder men are very remarkable for the development of the hair, which covers the whole of the breast and arms with a thick coating of pile, and looks as if they were clothed with a tightly-fitting fur garment. The [illustration No. 1], on the 698th page, will give a good idea of the features of the Australian. It is exactly copied from photographic portraits; and although the subjects have disfigured themselves by putting on European dress, and the woman has actually combed her hair, the general cast of the features is well preserved.

In stature the Australian is about equal to that of the average Englishman—say five feet eight inches, although individuals much below and above this height may be seen. The bodily form of the Australian savages is good, and their limbs well made. There are several well-known drawings of Australians, which have been widely circulated on account of their grotesqueness, and which have been accepted as the ordinary form of this curious people, and they have given the idea that the native Australian is distinguished by a very large head, a very small body, and very long and attenuated limbs; in fact, that he is to the European what the spider-monkey is to the baboon.

Such drawings are, however, only taken from exceptional cases, and give no idea of the real contour of the native Australian. Indeed, Mr. Pickering, who traversed the greater part of the world in search of anthropological knowledge, writes in very strong terms of the beautiful forms which can be seen among these natives. “The general form, though sometimes defective, seemed on the average better than that of the negro, and I did not find the undue slenderness of limb which has been commonly attributed to the Australians. Strange as it may appear, I would refer to an Australian as the finest model of human proportions I have ever met with, in muscular development combining perfect symmetry, activity, and strength; while his head might have compared with an antique bust of a philosopher.”

Those of my readers who happened to see the native Australians that came over to England as cricketers and athletes in general must have noticed the graceful forms for which some of the men were remarkable, while all were possessed of great elegance of limb.

The disadvantageous effect of European clothing on the dark races was well shown in these men, who seemed to undergo a positive transformation when they laid aside their ordinary clothes for a costume which represented, as far as possible, the light and airy apparel of the native Australian. Dressed in gray, or clad in the cricketer’s costume, there was nothing remarkable about them, and in fact they seemed to be very ordinary persons indeed. But with their clothes they threw off their commonplace look, and, attired only in tight “fleshings,” dyed as nearly as possible the color of their black skins, with a piece of fur wrapped round their loins and a sort of fur cap on their heads, they walked with a proud, elastic step that contrasted strangely with their former gait.

It may perhaps be said that this change of demeanor was only the natural result of removing the heavy clothing and giving freedom to the limbs. This was not the case, for several professional English athletes contended with the Australians, and, when they came to run or leap, wore the usual light attire of the professional acrobat. In them, however, no such improvement took place, and, if anything, they looked better in their ordinary dress.

The women are, as a rule, much inferior to the men in appearance. Even when young, although they possess symmetrical forms, their general appearance is not nearly so pleasing as that of the young African girl, and, when the woman becomes old, she is, if possible, even more hideous and hag-like than the African. This deterioration may partly be due to the exceedingly hard life led by the women, or “gins”—in which word, by the way, the g is pronounced hard as in “giddy.” That they have to do all the hard work, and to carry all the heavy weights, including the children, while their husbands sit or sleep, or, if on the march, burden themselves with nothing more weighty than their weapons, is to be expected, as it is the universal practice among natives. But it is not so much the hard work as the privation which tells upon the woman, who is treated with the same contemptuous neglect with which a savage treats his dog, and, while her husband, father, or brother, is feasting on the game which she has cooked, thinks herself fortunate if they now and then toss a nearly cleaned bone or a piece of scorched meat to her.

Like most savages, the Australian natives are adroit and daring thieves, displaying an amount of acuteness in carrying out their designs which would do honor to the most expert professional thief of London or Paris. In his interesting work entitled “Savage Life and Scenes,” Mr. G. F. Angas has related several anecdotes respecting this propensity.

“Leaving Rivoli Bay, we fell in with two very droll natives, the only ones who had made bold to approach our camp; both were in a state of nudity. One of these fellows was a perfect supplejack; he danced and capered about as though he were filled with quicksilver. We mounted them on horses, from which they were continually tumbling off, and they travelled with us all day.

“When we encamped at an old resting-place, near Lake Howden, they, by signs, requested permission to remain by our fires, which we allowed them to do, and gave them for supper the head and refuse of a sheep that was just killed and hung up to a tree near the tents. They showed great surprise on seeing our various utensils and articles of cookery. So modest and well-behaved did these artful gentlemen appear, that they would not touch the slightest article of food without first asking permission by signs; and they so far gained our confidence that one of them was adorned with a tin plate, suspended round his neck by a string, on which was inscribed ‘Good Native.’

“In the dead of the night we were all aroused by the unusual barking of the dogs. At first it was supposed that the wild dogs were ‘rushing’ the sheep; but as the tumult increased, the Sergeant-Major unwrapped his opossum rug, and looked around for his hat, to go and ascertain the cause of the disturbance. To his surprise, he found that his hat had vanished. The hat of his companion, who lay next him near the fire, was also nowhere to be found; and, casting his eyes to the spot where the sheep hung suspended from the tree, he saw in a moment that our fond hopes for to-morrow’s repast were blighted, for the sheep too had disappeared. The whole camp was roused, when it was ascertained that forks, spoons, and the contents of the Governor’s canteen, pannikins and other articles, were likewise missing, and that our two remarkably docile natives had left us under cover of the night.

“A council of war was held. Black Jimmy protested that it was useless to follow their tracks until the morning, and that from the nature of the country they had doubtless taken to the swamps, walking in the water, so that pursuit was in vain. We had been completely duped by these artful and clever fellows, who probably had a large party of their colleagues lying in ambush amid the surrounding swamps, ready to assist in carrying away the stolen property. Retaliation was useless; and we contented ourselves by giving utterance to our imprecations and commenting on the audacity and cunning of the rogues until daybreak.”

Another instance of theft—in this case single-handed—occurred not long before the robbery which has just been recorded. While the exploring party was on the march, they fell in with a number of natives who were cooking their food.

“At our approach, they flew down the descent, and hid among the bulrushes; but one old woman, unable to escape as speedily as the rest, finding flight useless, began to chatter very loud and fast, pointing to her blind eye, and her lean and withered arms, as objects of commiseration. Damper was given to her and she continued in terror to chew it very fast without swallowing any, until she was almost choked; when suddenly she got hold of Gisborne’s handkerchief and made off with it. With a vigorous leap she plunged into the mud and reeds beneath, effecting her escape by crawling into the swamp and joining her wild companions, to whom she doubtless recounted her adventures that night over a dish of fried tadpoles.”

The dish of fried tadpoles, to which allusion has been made, is quite a luxury among this wretched tribe, and, when the exploring party pushed on to the spot where the people had been cooking, it was found that they had been engaged in roasting a dish of water-beetles over a fire.

It is impossible to withhold admiration for the skill displayed by these sable thieves in stealing the property which they coveted, and, in excuse for them, it must be remembered that the articles which were stolen were to the blacks of inestimable value. Food and ornaments are coveted by the black man as much as wealth and titles by the white man, and both these articles were ready to hand. The temptation to which these poor people was exposed seems very trifling to us, but we must measure it, not from our own point of view, but from theirs.

The strange visitors who so suddenly appeared among them possessed abundance of the very things which were dearest to them. There was a whole sheep, which would enable them to enjoy the greatest luxury of which they could form any notion, i. e. eating meat to repletion; and there was store of glittering objects which could be worn as ornaments, and would dignify them forever in the eyes of their fellows. The happy possessor of a spoon, a fork, or a tin plate, which would be hung round the neck and kept highly polished, would be exalted above his companions like a newly ennobled man among ourselves, and it should not be expected that such an opportunity, which could never again be looked for, would be allowed to pass. The temptation to them was much as would be a title and a fortune among ourselves, and there are many civilized men who have done worse than the savage Australian when tempted by such a bait.

Reference has been made to the haggard appearance of the old woman who so ingeniously stole the handkerchief, the love of finery overcoming the dread of the white man in spite of her age and hideous aspect, which would only be made more repulsive by any attempt at ornament. It is scarcely possible to imagine the depths of ugliness into which an Australian woman descends after she has passed the prime of her life. As we have seen, the old woman of Africa is singularly hideous, but she is quite passable when compared with her aged sister of Australia.

(1.) AUSTRALIAN MAN AND WOMAN.
(See [page 695].)

(2.) WOMEN AND OLD MAN OF THE LOWER MURRAY AND THE LAKES.
(See [page 699].)

The old Australian woman certainly does not possess the projecting jaws, the enormous mouth, and the sausage-like lips of the African, but she exhibits a type of hideousness peculiarly her own. Her face looks like a piece of black parchment strained tightly over a skull, and the mop-like, unkempt hair adds a grotesque element to the features which only makes them still more repulsive. The breasts reach to the waist, flat, pendent, and swinging about at every movement; her body is so shrunken that each rib stands out boldly, the skin being drawn deeply in between them, and the limbs shrivel up until they look like sticks, the elbows and knees projecting like knots in a gnarled branch.

Each succeeding year adds to the hideous look of these poor creatures, because the feebleness of increasing years renders them less and less useful; and accordingly they are neglected, ill-treated, and contemptuously pushed aside by those who are younger and stronger than themselves, suffering in their turn the evils which in their youth they carelessly inflicted on those who were older and feebler.

Mr. Angas has among his sketches one which represents a very old woman of the Port Fairy tribe. They had built their rude huts or miam-miams under some gum-trees, and very much disgusted the exploring party by their hideous appearance and neglected state. There was one old woman in particular, who exemplified strongly all the characteristics which have just been described; and so surpassingly hideous, filthy, and repulsive was she, that she looked more like one of the demoniacal forms that Callot was so fond of painting than a veritable human creature. Indeed, so very disgusting was her appearance, that one of the party was made as ill as if he had taken an emetic.

Not wishing to shock my readers by the portrait of this wretched creature, I have introduced on page preceding, [two younger females] of the same tribe.

The remarkable point about this and one or two other tribes of the same locality and the neighborhood, is the circular mat which is tied on their backs, and which is worn by both sexes. The mat is made of reeds twisted into ropes, coiled round, and fastened together very much as the archer’s targets of the present day are made. The fibres by which the reed ropes are bound together are obtained from the chewed roots of the bulrush. The native name for this mat is paingkoont. One of the women appears in her ordinary home dress, i. e. wearing the paingkoont and her baby, over whose little body she has thrown a piece of kangaroo skin. The mat makes a very good cradle for the child, which, when awake and disposed to be lively, puts its head over the mat and surveys the prospect, but when alarmed pops down and hides itself like a rabbit disappearing into its burrow. The old woman, whose portrait is withheld, was clothed in the paingkoont, and wore no other raiment, so that the full hideousness of her form was exposed to view.

The woman standing opposite is just starting upon a journey. She is better clad than her companion, having beside the paingkoont a rude sort of petticoat. On her back she has slung the net in which she places the roots which she is supposed to dig out of the ground, and, thrust through the end which ties it, she carries the digging-stick, or katta, which serves her for a spade. She has in her hand the invariable accompaniment of a journey,—namely, the fire-stick, smouldering amid dry grass between two pieces of bark, and always ready to be forced into a flame by whirling it round her head.

Behind them is seated an old man, also wearing the mat-cloak, and having by his side one of the beautifully constructed native baskets. These baskets are made, like the mat, of green rushes or reeds, and are plaited by the women. One of these baskets is illustrated in an [engraving] on the 722d page. The reader will doubtless observe that the mode of plaiting it is almost identical with that which is employed by the natives of Southern Africa, the rushes being twisted and coiled upon each other and bound firmly together at short intervals by strong fibrous threads. They are rather variable in shape; some, which are intended to stand alone, being flat-bottomed, and others, which are always suspended by a string, ending in a point.

In common with other savage races, the Australians are apt to behave treacherously to the white man when they find themselves able to do so with impunity. This behavior is not always the result of ferocity or cruelty, though an Australian can on occasion be as fierce and cruel as any savage. Oftentimes it is the result of fear, the black people standing in awe of the white stranger and his deadly weapons, and availing themselves of their native cunning to deprive him of his unfair advantages as soon as possible.

Ignorant of the object of travel, and having from infancy been accustomed to consider certain districts as the property of certain tribes, and any man who intruded into the district of another as an enemy, it is but natural that when they see, especially for the first time, a man of different color from themselves travelling through the country, such strangers must necessarily be enemies, come for the purpose of using against the aborigines the weapons which they possess. Again, a feeling of acquisitiveness has much to do with the treachery.

Add to their ideas of the inimical character of the strangers the cupidity that must be excited by the sight of the valuable property brought into their country by those whom they consider as enemies delivered into their hand, and there is no reason for wonder that they should take both the lives and the property of the strangers, and thus secure the valued trophies of war at the same time that they rid their country of strange and powerful enemies, and attain at one stroke an amount of wealth which they could not hope to gain through the labors of a life.

This phase of their character is well shown by Mr. T. Baines, in a letter which he has kindly allowed me to transfer to these pages. He was one of an exploring expedition, which had also undertaken to convey a number of sheep and horses. “While making the inner passage along the coast, we fell in with several canoes, some of very rude construction, being in fact mere logs capable of carrying a couple of men, who, perhaps in terror of the telescopes pointed at them, did not approach us.

“Others were of greater size and power, being large hollowed logs, very straight and narrow, and steadied on either side by other logs, pointed at the ends, and acting as outriggers, neatly enough attached by pegs driven into them through a framing of bamboo. Others again were strictly double canoes, two of the narrow vessels being connected by a bamboo platform so as to lie parallel to each other at some little distance apart.

“They were manned by crews of from six to twelve, or even more in number, all tolerably fine fellows, perfectly naked, with shock heads of woolly hair and scanty beards. They were ornamented with scars and raised cicatrices tastefully cut on their shoulder and elsewhere. They were armed with long spears, some of them tipped with wood, others with bone, and having from one to four points. They also had bows and arrows, as well as their curious paddles, the looms of which were barbed and pointed, so as to be useful as spears. When these weapons were thrown at a fish, the owner always plunged into the water after his weapon, so as to secure the fish the moment that it was struck.

“Their arrival caused various emotions among our party. One gentleman ruined his revolver by hurriedly trying to load it, while a little girl, so far from being afraid of them, traded with them for almost everything they had in their canoes. Just as they dropped astern after reaching us, the captain’s little daughters were being bathed in a tub on the main-hatch, and, naturally enough, jumped out of their bath, and ran aft wet and glistening in the sunlight, to hide themselves from the strange black fellows who were stretching themselves to look over our low bulwarks at the little naked white girls.

“We bought spears, bows, arrows, tortoise-shell, &c., for hats, handkerchiefs, and other things; and they were greatly interested in the white baby, which, at their express request, was held up for them to look at.”

Up to this point we find the natives mild and conciliatory, but we proceed with the letter, and find an unexpected change in their demeanor.

“We had here an instance of the capriciousness of the natives. We met about a dozen on shore, and endeavored by all friendly signs to induce them to come to terms with us. We showed them that we had no guns, but our attempts were useless. They fell into regular battle array, with their long spears ready shipped on the throwing sticks, six standing in front, and the rest acting as supports behind. As it was unsafe to parley longer, we mounted our horses, and again tried to make them understand that we wished to be on friendly terms. It was all useless, and the only thing that we could do was to ride straight at them. They ran like antelopes, and gained the thick bush where we could not follow them. B—— wanted to shoot one of them, but I would not allow it.

“The prospect of killing and eating our horses seemed to be their great temptation. They made constant war upon our stud for a fortnight or three weeks, in my camp at Depôt Creek, and I had to patrol the country with B—— daily, to keep them from ringing the horses round with fire.

“The character of the Australian canoe-men is variously spoken of, some reporting them as good-natured and peaceable, while others say that they are treacherous and savage. Both speak the truth from their own experience. A fellow artist, who generally landed from a man-of-war’s boat, with the ship in the offing, found them peaceable enough, but poor Mr. Strange, the naturalist, was murdered on one of the islands.

“While we were on board our vessels, they were quite friendly; and even during my boat’s voyage of 750 miles, while we had a dashing breeze and the boat well under command, we found the groups we met with civil enough. But when we were helplessly becalmed at the entrance of the Gulf of Carpentaria, and supposed by the natives to be the unarmed survivors of some vessel wrecked in Torres Straits, we were deliberately and treacherously attacked.

“We watched the preparations for nearly an hour through the telescope, and refrained from giving them the slightest ground even to suspect that we looked on them otherwise than as friends. As soon as they thought they had us in their power, they began to throw spears at us, so I put a rifle-bullet through the shoulder of the man who threw at us, to teach him the danger of interfering with supposed helpless boats, but did not fire again. The wounded man was led on shore by one of his mates, and we were not molested again.

“These people are very capricious. They have the cunning and the strong passions of men, but in reason they are only children. Life is not held sacred by them, and, when their thirst for blood is raised, they revel in cruelty.”

These Australian canoes, with outriggers attached, indicate a Polynesian origin, as indeed do the bows and arrows, which will be fully described on a future page. The tobacco pipes in use in that part of Australia are curious. One form consists of a hollow tube as thick as a man’s arm, stopped at the ends and having one hole near the bottom into which is introduced the stem of a pipe, and another hole near the top through which the smoke is imbibed. Their use of the pipe is rather singular. When a party desires to smoke, the chief man lights the pipe, places his mouth to the orifice, and continually inhales until the interior of the hollow stem is filled with smoke. The bowl is then removed, and the aperture stopped with a plug which is kept in readiness. The first smoker closes with his thumb the hole through which he has been imbibing the smoke, and passes the pipe to his neighbor, who applies his lips to the hole, fills his lungs with smoke, and then passes the pipe to the next man. In this way, the tobacco is made to last as long as possible, and the greatest possible amount of enjoyment is got out of the least possible amount of material. The exterior of the stem is generally carved into the simple patterns which are found on nearly all Australian weapons and implements.

Before proceeding further with the character and habits of the natives, we will cast a glance at the country which they inhabit, and the peculiarities which have contributed toward forming that character.

It is a very strange country, as strange to us as England would be to a savage Australian. Its vegetable and animal productions are most remarkable, and are so strange that when the earlier voyagers brought back accounts of their travels they were not believed; and when they exhibited specimens of the flora and fauna, they were accused of manufacturing them for the purpose of deception.

In the first place, with a single exception, the mammalia are all marsupials, or edentates. The solitary exception is the dingo, or native dog, an animal which somewhat resembles the jackal, but is altogether a handsomer animal. Whether it be indigenous, or a mere variety of the dog modified by long residence in the country, is rather doubtful, though the best zoölogists incline to the latter opinion, and say that the marsupial type alone is indigenous to this strange country. Of course the reader is supposed to know that the young of a marsupial animal is born at a very early age, and attains its full development in a supplementary pouch attached to the mother, into which pouch the teats open.

The animal which is most characteristic of Australia is the kangaroo. Of this singular type some forty species are known, varying in size from that of a tall man to that of a mouse. Some of them are known as kangaroos, and others as kangaroo-rats, but the type is the same in all. As their form implies, they are made for leaping over the ground, their enormously long legs and massive development of the hind quarters giving them the requisite power, while their long tails serve to balance them as they pass through the air.

Nearly all the so-called “rats” of Australia belong to the kangaroo tribe, though some are members of other marsupial families. Here I may mention that the nomenclature of the colonists has caused great perplexity and labor to incipient zoölogists. They are told in some books that the dingo is the only Australian animal that is not a marsupial or an edentate, and yet they read in books of travel of the bear, the monkey, the badger, the wolf, the cat, the squirrel, the mole, and so forth. The fact is, that, with the natural looseness of diction common to colonists all over the world, the immigrants have transferred to their new country the nomenclature of the old. To the great trouble of index-searchers, there is scarcely a part of the world inhabited by our colonists where London, Oxford, Boston, and fifty other places are not multiplied. The first large river they meet they are sure to call the Thames, and it is therefore to be expected that natural history should suffer in the same way as geography.

Thus, should, in the course of this account of Australia, the reader come across a passage quoted from some traveller in which the monkey or bear is mentioned, he must remember that the so-called “monkey” and “bear” are identical, and that the animal in question is neither the one nor the other, but a marsupial, known to the natives by the name of koala, and, as if to add to the confusion of names, some travellers call it the sloth.

The so-called “badger” is the wombat, probably called a badger because it lives in holes which it burrows in the ground. The Australian “wolf” is another marsupial, belonging to the Dasyures and the “cat” belongs to the same group. The “squirrels” are all marsupials, and by rights are called phalangists, and it is to this group that the koala really belongs. As to the “hedgehog,” it is the spiny ant-eater or echidna, and the “mole” is the celebrated duck-bill or ornithorhynchus.

With few exceptions these animals are not easily captured, many of them being nocturnal, and hiding in burrows or hollow trees until the shades of night conceal their movements; while others are so shy, active, and watchful, that all the craft of the hunter must be tried before they can be captured. Much the same may be said of the birds, the chief of which, the emu, is nearly as large as an ostrich, and is much valued by the natives as food. It is evident, therefore, that the existence of these peculiar animals must exercise a strong influence on the character of the natives, and must make them more active, wary, and quicksighted than the creatures on which they live.

Possessing, as he does, the most minute acquaintance with every vegetable which can afford him food, and even knowing where to obtain a plentiful supply of food and water in a land where an European could not find a particle of anything eatable, nor discover a drop of moisture in the dry and parched expanse, the Australian native places his chief reliance on animal food, and supports himself almost entirely on the creatures which he kills. His appetite is very indiscriminate; and although he prefers the flesh of the kangaroo and the pigeon, he will devour any beast, bird, reptile, or fish, and will also eat a considerable number of insects. Consequently the life of the Australian savage is essentially one of warfare, not against his fellow-man, but against the lower animals, and, as the reader will see in the course of the following pages, the primary object of his weapons is the hunt, and war only a secondary use to which they are directed.

CHAPTER LXX.
AUSTRALIA—Continued.

MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE NATIVES — DRESS AND ORNAMENTS OF NORTHERN AUSTRALIA — MODE OF DRESSING THE HAIR — THE “DIBBI-DIBBI” — TATTOOING AND CICATRIZING — PATTERN OF THE SCARS — SIGNIFICATION OF THE VARIOUS PATTERNS — POMP AND VANITY — THE NOSE-BONE — NECKLACES — THE GIRDLE AND TASSEL — TATTOOS AND SCARS AMONG THE WOMEN — THE TURTLE SCAR — HIGH SHOULDERS OF THE AUSTRALIANS — INDIFFERENCE TO DRESS — THEIR FUR MANTLES, AND THEIR USES — THE SEA-GRASS MANTLE — FOOD OF THE AUSTRALIANS — VEGETABLE FOOD — MODE OF PROCURING ROOTS — THE BIYU — THE NARDOO PLANT AND ITS USES — THE “BURKE AND WILLS” EXPEDITION — THE BULRUSH ROOT, ITS USE FOR FOOD AND ROPE MAKING — SUBTERRANEAN WATER STORES — MOLLUSCS, AND MODE OF COLLECTING THEM — HARD WORK FOR THE WOMEN — DIVING FROM THE RAFT — RELAXATION WHEN THEY RETURN HOME — COOKING THE MOLLUSCS AND CRUSTACEA — FISH CATCHING WITH LINE, NET, AND SPEAR — INSECT FOOD — THE BEE CATCHERS — TREE AND EARTH GRUBS, AND MODE OF CATCHING THEM — THE PILEYAH — THE DUGONG — ITS LOCALITIES, AND MODES OF TAKING AND COOKING IT — CAPTURING AND COOKING THE GREEN TURTLE — CURIOUS USE OF THE SUCKING FISH — TAMING THE TURTLE — THE HAWKSBILL TURTLE, AND MODE OF CATCHING IT — TURTLE OIL AND DRIED FLESH — SALE OF TORTOISE-SHELL — TWO FORMS OF AUSTRALIAN OVENS — COOKING AND EATING SNAKES — CATCHING THE SNAKE ALIVE — THE CLOAK AND THE SHIELD — THE DUGONG, AND ITS CAPTURE — SMALL TENACITY OF LIFE — A SAVORY FEAST.

We will now proceed to the various manners and customs of the Australians, not separating them into the arbitrary and fluctuating distinctions of tribes, but describing as briefly as is consistent with justice, the most interesting of their habits, and mentioning those cases where any particular custom seems to be confined to any one tribe or district.

We have in the [illustration No. 1], on page 707, a good example of a native of North Western Australia. The sketch was kindly made by Mr. T. Baines. A profile of the man is given, in order to show the peculiar contour of the face, which, as the reader may see, has nothing of the negro character about it; the boldly prominent nose, the full beard, and the long hair fastened up in a top-knot being the distinguishing features. The man carries in his belt his provisions for the day, namely, a snake and one of the little kangaroo-rats, and having these he knows no care, though of course he would prefer larger game.

Round his neck may be seen a string. This supports an ornament which hangs upon his breast. Several forms of this ornament, which is called in the duplicative Australian language a “dibbi-dibbi,” are employed, and there are in my collection two beautiful specimens made from the shell of the pearl-oyster. The ordinary dibbi-dibbi is fan-shaped, and does not depart very much from the original outline of the shell. There is, however, one kind of dibbi-dibbi which is valued exceedingly, and which is shaped like a crescent. The specimen in my possession is almost as large as a cheese plate, and must have been cut from an enormous shell, economy, whether of material or time, not being understood by these savages. Owing to the shape of the shell, it is slightly convex, and was worn with the concave side next the body.

Not being satisfied with the natural smooth polish of the nacre, the native has ornamented the dibbi-dibbi with a simple but tolerably effective pattern. Along the margin of the scooped edge he has bored two parallel rows of small and shallow holes about half an inch apart, and on either side of each row he has cut a narrow line. From the outer line he has drawn a series of scalloped patterns made in a similar fashion; and, simple as this pattern is, its effect is really remarkable. The man has evidently begun a more elaborate pattern on the broad surface of the shell, but his mind seems to have misgiven him, and he has abandoned it. The cord by which it is suspended round the neck is nearly an inch wide, and is made of string and a sort of rattan plaited together.

On the shoulder of the man may be seen a number of raised marks. These are the scars of wounds with which the Australians are in the habit of adorning their bodies, and which they sometimes wear in great profusion. The marks are made by cutting deeply into the skin, and filling the wounds with clay and other substances, so that when the wound heals an elevated scar is made. These scars are made in patterns which partly differ according to the taste of the individual, and partly signifying the district to which the tattooed person belongs. For example, the scars as shown in the [illustration] are the mark of a Northern Australian; and, although he may have plenty other scars on his body and limbs, these will always appear on his shoulder as the distinguishing mark of his tribe.

In my photographs, which represent natives from various parts of the continent, these scars are very prominent, and there is not an individual who does not possess them. Some have them running longitudinally down the upper arm, while others have them alternately longitudinal and transverse. They occasionally appear on the breast, and an old man, remarkable for the quantity of hair which covered his breast and arms, has disposed them in a fan shape, spreading from the centre of the body to the arms. He has evidently spent a vast amount of time on this adornment, and suffered considerable pain, as scars, although not so large as in many other instances, are exceedingly numerous; the man has adorned his arms and shoulders with little scars of the same character arranged in regular lines.

In some parts of Australia the scars assume a much more formidable appearance, being long and heavy ridges. One chief, who was very proud of his adornments,—as well he might be, seeing that their possession must nearly have cost him his life,—was entirely covered from his neck to his knees with scars at least an inch broad, set closely together, and covering the whole of the body. The front of the chest and stomach was adorned with two rows of these scars, each scar being curved, and reaching from the side to the centre of the body, where they met. The man was so inordinately proud of this ornament that nothing could induce him to wear clothing of any kind, and he stalked about in his grandeur, wearing nothing but his weapons. The photograph of this man has a very singular aspect, the light falling on the polished ridge of the scars having an effect as if he were clad in a suit of some strange armor.

By way of adding to the beauty of their countenances, they are in the habit of perforating the septum of the nose, and of thrusting through it a piece of bone or stick, the former being preferred on account of its whiteness. It is almost impossible to describe the exceedingly grotesque appearance presented by an Australian dandy, who has his body covered with scars, and his face crossed by a wide piece of bone some six inches in length, making his naturally broad nose wider, and seeming as it were to cut his face in half. The hole through which this ornament is thrust is made when a child is a fortnight old.

As to other ornaments, they consist of the usual necklaces, bracelets, and anklets which are common to savage tribes in all parts of the world. Some of these necklaces which are in my collection are really pretty, and some skill is shown in their manufacture. One is made of pieces of yellow reed as thick as quills and almost an inch in length, strung alternately with scarlet reeds; another is made entirely of the same reeds, while a third is, in my opinion, the handsomest, though not the most striking of them. At first sight it appears to be made entirely of the reeds already mentioned, but on a closer examination it is seen to be composed entirely of the antennæ of lobsters, cut into short lengths and strung together. To the necklaces is attached a small mother-of-pearl dibbi-dibbi four inches long and one inch wide, and the pieces of lobster antennæ are so disposed that the thinner parts of the antennæ, taken from the extremities, come next to the dibbi-dibbi and hang on the breast, while the larger and thicker parts, taken from the base of the antennæ, come on the neck. The native basket in which these necklaces were kept is more than half filled with bright colored seeds of various hues, that are evidently intended for the manufacture of necklaces.

Girdles of finely twisted human hair are often worn by the men, and the native who is represented in the [engraving No. 1], on page 707, is wearing one of these girdles. Sometimes, as in the present instance, a small tassel made of the hair of a phalangist or “flying-squirrel,” as it is wrongly termed, is hung to the front of the girdle, by no means as a covering, but as an ornament.

The scars are so highly valued that the women wear them nearly as profusely as the men. In my photographs, there are portraits of many women of all ages, not one of whom is without scars. They do not wear them so large as the men, but seem to be more careful in the regularity of the pattern.

Taking a series of three women, the first has three cuts on the shoulder showing her northern extraction, and a row of small horizontal and parallel scars along the front of the body from the breast-bone downward. The second, in addition to the shoulder cuts, has several rows of scars extending from the breast to the collar-bones, together with a central line as already described, and some similar rows of cuts on the ribs and sides. The third woman, a mere girl of fourteen or so, has been very careful in the arrangement of the scars, which descend in regular and parallel rows from the breast downward, and then radiate fan-wise in six rows from the breast upward to the collar bones.

Mr. M’Gillivray, who accompanied H. M. S. Rattlesnake in her voyage, writes as follows concerning the scar ornaments and their uses:—“The Torres Straits islanders are distinguished by a large complicated oval scar, only slightly raised, and of neat construction. This, which I have been told has some connection with a turtle, occupies the right shoulder, and is occasionally repeated on the left. (See [engraving] at foot of page 722.) At Cape York, however, the cicatrices were so varied that I could not connect any particular style with an individual tribe. At the same time, something like uniformity was noticed among the Katchialaigas, nearly all of whom had, in addition to the horned breast mark, two or three long transverse scars on the chest, which the other tribes did not possess.

“In the remaining people the variety of marking was such that it appeared fair to consider it as being regulated more by individual caprice than by any fixed custom. Many had a simple two-horned mark on each breast, and we sometimes saw upon them a clumsy imitation of the elaborate shoulder mark of the islanders.”

Well-shaped as are these women, they have one defect in form, namely, the high and square shoulder, which detracts so much from feminine beauty, and which is equally conspicuous in the child of six, the girl of thirteen or fourteen, and the old woman. The men also exhibit the same defective form.

The reader will have noticed the elaborate manner in which the hair of the Australian savage is sometimes dressed. The style of hair-dressing varies with the locality, and often with the time, fashion having as absolute a reign among the native Australians, and being quite as capricious, as among ourselves. Sometimes the hair is twisted up into long and narrow ringlets, and, if the savage should not happen to have enough hair for this fashion, he straightway makes a wig in imitation of it. Now and then the head is shaved, except a transverse crest of hair, and sometimes the natives will take a fashion of rubbing red ochre and turtle-fat into their heads until they are saturated with the compound, and will then twist up the hair into little strands.

The men of this part of Australia never wear any dress, and the women are often equally indifferent to costume. At Cape York, however, they mostly wear an apology for a petticoat, consisting of a tuft of long grass or split pandanus leaves suspended to the front of the girdle. On great occasions, and especially in their dances, they wear over this a second petticoat mostly made of some leaf, and having the ends woven into a sort of waistband. The material of the petticoat is generally pandanus leaf, but, whatever may be the material, the mode of plaiting it and the general form are the same among all the tribes of Torres Straits. From this useful leaf, the women also make the rude sails for their canoes, which serve the double purpose of sails and coverings under which the natives can sleep in wet weather.

The women have rather a curious mode of wearing one of their ornaments. This is a very long belt, composed of many strands of plaited or twisted fibre, and passed round the body in such a manner that it crosses on the breast like the now abolished cross-belts of the soldier. It is drawn rather tight, and may perhaps be of some service in supporting the bosom. In neither case does clothing seem to be worn as a mode of concealing any part of the body, but merely as a defence against the weather or as an ornament. Even when dress is worn it is of a very slight character, with one or two exceptions. These exceptions are the fur cloaks, with which the women sometimes clothe themselves, and a remarkable garment which presently will be described.

The fur cloaks are made almost universally from the skin of the opossum, and, as the animal is a small one, a considerable number are sewed together to make a single robe. The mode of manufacture is exactly similar to that which was described when treating of the kaross of the Kaffir tribes, the skins being cut to the proper shape, laid side by side, and sewed laboriously together with threads formed of the sinews of the kangaroo’s tail, or often with those which are drawn out of the tails of the very creatures which furnish the skin.

Sometimes a piece of kangaroo skin is used for the same purpose, but in neither case does it fulfil the office of a dress according to our ideas. The cloak is a very small one in proportion to the size of the women, and it is worn by being thrown over the back and tied across the chest by a couple of thongs, so as to leave the whole front of the body uncovered. If the garment in question be the skin of the kangaroo, it is slung over one shoulder, and allowed to fall much as it likes, the only object seeming to be that it shall cover the greater part of the back and one shoulder. Occasionally a man wears a fur cloak, but he seems to be very indifferent as to the manner in which it hangs upon his body, sometimes draping it about his shoulders, sometimes letting it fall to his waist and gathering it about his loins, and sometimes, especially if walking, holding two corners together with his left hand in front of his breast, while his right hand grasps his bundle of weapons.

Mr. Angas mentions one instance of a singularly perfect dress in use among the Australians—the only dress in fact that is really deserving of the name. It is a large cloak made from the zostera or sea grass, a plant that is remarkable for being the only true flowering plant that grows in the sea. It has very long grass-like blades, and is found in vast beds, that look in a clear sea like luxuriant hay-fields just before mowing.

The fibre of the zostera is long, and wonderfully tough, and indeed the fibre is so good, and the plant so abundant, that the uses to which it is now put, such as packing and stuffing, are far below its capabilities, and it ought to be brought into use for purposes for which a long and strong fibre are needed. Some time ago, when the supply of rags for paper seemed to be failing, there was an attempt made to substitute the zostera for rags; and, although it was not a perfectly successful experiment, it had at all events the elements of success in it.

With this long grass the Australian native occasionally makes a large cloak, which will cover the whole body. It is made by laying the fibres side by side, and lashing them together at regular intervals, much as the well-known New Zealand mantle is made from the phormium. Anxious to avoid trouble, the native only fastens together a sufficient quantity to make a covering for his body as low as the knees, the loose ends of the zostera being left as a kind of long fringe that edges the mantle all round, and really has a very graceful effect.

The [illustration No. 2], on the next page, shows one of those curious mantles, which was sketched while on the body of the wearer. As the manufacture of such a mantle involves much trouble, and the Australian native has the full savage hatred of labor, very few of these cloaks are to be seen. Indeed, nothing but a rather long inclement season will induce a native to take the trouble of making a garment which he will only use for a comparatively short period, and which is rather troublesome to carry about when not wanted.

We now come to the food of the natives. As has already been stated, they eat almost anything, but there are certain kinds of food which they prefer, and which will be specially mentioned.

As to vegetable food, there are several kinds of yams which the more civilized tribes cultivate—the nearest approach to labor of which they can be accused. It is almost exclusively on the islands that cultivation is found, and Mr. M’Gillivray states that on the mainland he never saw an attempt at clearing the ground for a garden. In the islands, however, the natives manage after a fashion to raise crops of yams.

When they want to clear a piece of ground, they strew the surface with branches, which are allowed to wither and dry; as soon as they are thoroughly dried, fire is set to them, and thus the space is easily cleared from vegetation. The ground is then pecked up with a stick sharpened at the point and hardened by fire; the yams are cut up and planted, and by the side of each hole a stick is thrust into the ground, so as to form a support for the plant when it grows up. The natives plant just before the rainy season. They never trouble themselves to build a fence round the simple garden, neither do they look after the growth of the crops, knowing that the rains which are sure to fall will bring their crops to perfection.

There are also multitudes of vegetable products on which the natives feed. One of them, which is largely used, is called by them “biyu.” It is made from the young and tender shoots of the mangrove tree. The sprouts, when three or four inches in length, are laid upon heated stones, and covered with bark, wet leaves, and sand. After being thoroughly stewed, they are beaten between two stones, and the pulp is scraped away from the fibres. It then forms a slimy gray paste, and, although it is largely eaten, the natives do not seem to like it, and only resort to it on a necessity. They contrive, however, to improve its flavor by adding large quantities of wild yams and other vegetable products.

Perhaps the most celebrated wild food of the Australians is the “nardoo,” which has become so familiar to the British reader since the important expedition of Burke and Wills. The nardoo is the produce of a cryptogamous plant which grows in large quantities, but is rather local. The fruit is about as large as a pea, and is cleaned for use by being rubbed in small wooden troughs. It is then pounded into a paste, and made into cakes, like oatmeal.

The nardoo plant is one of the ferns, and those of my readers who are skilled in botany will find it in the genus Marsilea. Like many of the ferns, the plant presents a strangely unfernlike aspect, consisting of upright and slender stems, about twelve inches high, each having on its tips a small quadruple frond, closely resembling a flower. The fruit, or “sporocarp” of the nardoo is the part that is eaten; and it is remarkable for its powers of absorbing water, and so increasing its size. Indeed, when the fruit is soaked in water, it will in the course of a single hour swell until it is two hundred times its former size.

(1.) THE HUNTER AND HIS DAY’S PROVISIONS.
(See [page 704].)

(2.) THE SEA GRASS CLOAK.
(See [page 706].)

The nardoo is useful in its way, and, when mixed with more nutritious food, is a valuable article of diet. Taken alone, however, it has scarcely the slightest nutritive powers, and though it distends the stomach, and so keeps off the gnawing sense of hunger, it gives no strength to the system. Even when eaten with fish, it is of little use, and requires either fat or sugar to give it the due power of nourishment. With the wonderful brightness of spirit which Mr. Wills managed to keep up, even when suffering the severest hardships, and feeling himself gradually dying, he gives in his diary a curiously accurate picture of the effects of living for a length of time on an innutritious substance. He liked the nardoo, and consumed considerable quantities of it, but gradually wasted away, leaving a record in his diary that “starvation on nardoo is by no means unpleasant but for the weakness one feels, and the utter inability to rouse one’s self; for as far as appetite is concerned, it gives the greatest satisfaction.”

The death of this fine young man affords another proof of the disadvantage at which a stranger to the country is placed while traversing a new land. Many native tribes lived on the route along which the travellers passed, and, from their knowledge of the resources of the country, were able to support themselves; whereas the white travellers seem to have died of starvation in the midst of plenty.

The chief vegetable food, however, is furnished by the bulrush root, which is to the Australians who live near rivers the staff of life. As the task of procuring it is a very disagreeable one, it is handed over to the women, who have to wade among the reeds and half bury themselves in mud while procuring the root.

It is cooked after the usual Australian manner. A heap of limestones is raised, and heated by fire. The roots are then laid on the hot stones, and are covered with a layer of the same material. In order to produce a quantity of steam, a heap of wet grass is thrown on the upper layer of stones, and a mound of sand heaped over all.

As the root, however well cooked, is very fibrous, the natives do not swallow it, but, after chewing it and extracting all the soft parts, they reject the fibres, just as a sailor throws aside his exhausted quid; and great quantities of these little balls of fibre are to be found near every encampment. The same fibre is convertible into string, and is used in the manufacture of fishing lines and nets.

The singular knowledge of vegetable life possessed by the natives is never displayed with greater force than in the power which they have of procuring water. In an apparently desert place, where no signs of water are to be found, and where not even a pigeon can be seen to wing its way through the air, as the guide to the distant water toward which it is flying, the native will manage to supply himself with both water and food.

He looks out for certain eucalypti or gum-trees, which are visible from a very great distance, and makes his way toward them. Choosing a spot at three or four yards from the trunk, with his katta he digs away at the earth, so as to expose the roots, tears them out of the ground, and proceeds to prepare them. Cutting them into pieces of a foot or so in length, he stands them upright in the bark vessel which an Australian mostly carries with him, and waits patiently. Presently a few drops of water ooze from the lower ends of the roots, and in a short time water pours out freely, so that an abundant supply of liquid is obtained.

Should the native be very much parched, he takes one of the pieces of root, splits it lengthwise, and chews it, finding that it gives as much juice as a water-melon. The youngest and freshest-looking trees are always chosen for the purpose of obtaining water, and the softest-looking roots selected. After the water has all been drained from them, they are peeled, pounded between two stones, and then roasted; so that the eucalyptus supplies both food and drink.

As, however, has been stated, the chief reliance of the natives is upon animal food and fish, molluscs, crustacea, reptiles, and insects form a very considerable proportion of their food. Collecting the shell-fish is the duty of the women, chiefly because it is really hard work, and requires a great amount of diving. Throughout the whole of this vast continent this duty is given to the women; and whether in the Gulf of Carpentaria, on the extreme north, or in the island of Van Diemen’s Land, in the extreme south, the same custom prevails. During Labillardière’s voyage in search of La Perouse, the travellers came upon a party of the natives of Van Diemen’s Land while the women were collecting shell-fish, and the author gives a good description of the labors to which these poor creatures were subjected:—

“About noon we saw them prepare their repast. Hitherto we had but a faint idea of the pains the women take to procure the food requisite for the subsistence of their families. They took each a basket, and were followed by their daughters, who did the same. Getting on the rocks that projected into the sea, they plunged from them to the bottom in search of shell-fish. When they had been down some time, we became very uneasy on their account; for where they had dived were seaweeds of great length, among which we observed the fucus pyriferus, and we feared that they might have been entangled in these, so as to be unable to regain the surface.

“At length, however, they appeared, and convinced us that they were capable of remaining under water twice as long as our ablest divers. An instant was sufficient for them to take breath, and then they dived again. This they did repeatedly till their baskets were nearly full. Most of them were provided with a little bit of wood, cut into the shape of a spatula, and with these they separated from beneath the rocks, at great depths, very large sea-ears. Perhaps they chose the biggest, for all they brought were of a great size.

“On seeing the large lobsters which they had in their baskets, we were afraid that they must have wounded these poor women terribly with their large claws; but we soon found that they had taken the precaution to kill them as soon as they caught them. They quitted the water only to bring their husbands the fruits of their labor, and frequently returned almost immediately to their diving till they had procured a sufficient meal for their families. At other times they stayed a little while to warm themselves, with their faces toward the fire on which their fish was roasting, and other little fires burning behind them, that they might be warmed on all sides at once.

“It seemed as if they were unwilling to lose a moment’s time; for while they were warming themselves, they were employed in roasting fish, some of which they laid on the coals with the utmost caution, though they took little care of the lobsters, which they threw anywhere into the fire; and when they were ready they divided the claws among the men and the children, reserving the body for themselves, which they sometimes ate before returning into the water.

“It gave us great pain to see these poor women condemned to such severe toil; while, at the same time, they ran the hazard of being devoured by sharks, or entangled among the weeds that rise from the bottom of the sea. We often entreated their husbands to take a share in their labor at least, but always in vain. They remained constantly near the fire, feasting on the best bits, and eating broiled fucus, or fern-roots. Occasionally they took the trouble to break boughs of trees into short pieces to feed the fire, taking care to choose the dryest.

“From their manner of breaking them we found that their skulls must be very hard; for, taking hold of the sticks at each end with the hand, they broke them over their heads, as we do at the knee, till they broke. Their heads being constantly bare, and often exposed to all weathers in this high latitude, acquire a capacity for resisting such efforts: besides, their hair forms a cushion which diminishes the pressure, and renders it much less painful on the summit of the head than any other part of the body. Few of the women, however, could have done as much, for some had their hair cut pretty short, and wore a string several times round the head; others had only a simple crown of hair. We made the same observation with respect to several of the children, but none of the men. These had the back, breast, shoulders, and arms covered with downy hair.”

Sometimes a party of women will go out on a raft made of layers of reeds, pushing themselves along by means of very long poles. When they arrive at a bed of mussels, they will stay there nearly all day diving from the raft, with their nets tied round their necks, and, after remaining under water for a considerable time, come up with a heavy load of mussels in their nets.

They even manage to cook upon this fragile raft. They make a heap of wet sand upon the reeds, put a few stones on it, and build their fire on the stones, just as if they had been on shore. After remaining until they have procured a large stock of mussels, they pole themselves ashore, and in all probability have to spend several hours in cooking the mussels for the men. The mussels are usually eaten with the bulrush root.

There is a sort of crayfish which is found in the mud-flats of rivers and lakes. These are also caught by the women, who feel for them in the mud with their feet, and hold them down firmly until they can be seized by the hand. As soon as the creatures are taken, the claws are crushed to prevent them from biting, and they are afterward roasted, while still alive, on the embers of the fire. Tadpoles are favorite articles of diet with the Australians, who fry them on grass.

The ordinary limpet, mussel, and other molluscs, are largely eaten by the natives, who scoop them out by means of smaller shells, just as is done by boys along our own coasts—a plan which is very efficacious, as I can testify from personal experience. Sometimes they cook the molluscs by the simple process of throwing them on the embers, but as a general rule they eat them in a raw state, as we eat oysters.

Fish they catch in various ways. The usual method is by a hook and line; the former of which is ingeniously cut out of the shell of the hawksbill turtle. Two of these hooks are now before me, and raise a feeling of wonder as to the fish which could be induced to take such articles into its mouth. It is flat, very clumsily made, and there is no barb, the point being curved very much inward, so as to prevent the fish from slipping off the hook. In fact the whole shape of the hook is almost exactly identical with that of the hook which is found throughout Polynesia and extends to New Zealand.

The hook is fastened to a long and stout line, made by chewing reeds, stripping them into fibres, and rolling them on the thighs. Two of these strings are then twisted together, and the line is complete. My own specimen of a line is about as thick as the fishing lines used on our coasts, and it is very long, having a hook at either end. The hook is lashed to the line by a very firm but rather clumsy wrapping. Sometimes the line is made of scraped rattan fibres.

Another mode of fishing is by the net. This requires at least two men to manage it. The net is many feet in length, and about four feet in width. It is kept extended by a number of sticks placed a yard or so apart, and can then be rolled up in a cylindrical package and be taken to the water. One man then takes an end of the net, unrolls it, and with the assistance of his comrade drops it into the water. As soon as the lower edge of the net touches the bottom, the men wade toward the shore, drawing with them the two ends of the net and all the fish that happen to be within its range. As soon as they near the shore, they bring the two ends of the net to the land, fix them there, and are then able to pick up and throw ashore all the fish that are in the net. Some of the more active fish escape by leaping over the upper edge of the net, and some of the mud-loving and crafty wriggle their way under the lower edge; but there is always a sufficiency of fish to reward the natives for their labor.

Like the fishing line, the net is made of chewed reeds, and the labor of chewing and twisting the string belongs exclusively to the women.

A third mode of fishing is by employing certain traps or baskets, ingeniously woven of rattan, and made so that the fish can easily pass into them, but cannot by any possibility get out again. Sometimes fish are speared in the shallow water, the native wading in, and with unerring aim transfixing the fish with his spear. Even the children take part in this sport, and, though armed with nothing better than a short stick, sharpened at one end, contrive to secure their fish. With the same stick they dig molluscs out of the mud, and turn crustacea out of their holes; and when they can do this, they are supposed to be able to shift for themselves, and their parents take no more trouble about feeding them.

They are not more fastidious in the cooking of fish than of crustacea or molluscs, but just throw them on the fire, turn them once or twice with a stick, and when they are warmed through and the outside scorched, they pick them out of the fire, scrape off the burnt scales, and eat them without further ceremony.

Insect food is much used among the Australians. As might be expected, honey is greatly valued by them, and they display great ingenuity in procuring it. When a native sees a bee about the flowers, and wishes to find the honey, he repairs to the nearest pool, selects a spot where the bank shelves very gradually, lies on his face, fills his mouth with water, and patiently awaits the arrival of a bee. These insects require a considerable amount of moisture, as every one knows who has kept them, and the bee-hunter reckons on this fact to procure him the honey which he desires. After a while a bee is sure to come and drink, and the hunter, hearing the insect approaching him, retains his position and scarcely breathes, so fearful is he of alarming it. At last it alights, and instantly the native blows the water from his mouth over it, stunning it for the moment. Before it can recover itself, he seizes it, and by means of a little gum attaches to it a tuft of white down obtained from one of the trees.

As soon as it is released, the insect flies away toward its nest, the white tuft serving the double purpose of making it more conspicuous and retarding its flight. Away goes the hunter after it at full speed, running and leaping along in a wonderful manner, his eyes fixed on the guiding insect, and making very light of obstacles. (See [illustration No. 1], on the 716th page.) Sometimes a fallen tree will be in his way, and if he can he jumps over it; but at all risks he must get over without delay, and so he dashes at the obstacle with reckless activity. Should he surmount it, well and good; but if, as often happens, he should fall, he keeps his eyes fixed, as well as he can, on the bee, and as soon as he springs to his feet he resumes the chase. Even if he should lose sight of it for a moment, he dashes on in the same direction, knowing that a bee always flies in a straight line for its home; and when he nears it, the angry hum of the hampered insect soon tells him that he has recovered the lost ground.

The reader will see that this mode of tracking the bee to its home is far inferior to that of the American bee-hunters, and is rather a business of the legs than of the head. The Australian bee-hunter waits until a bee happens to come to the spot where he lies; the American bee-hunter baits an attractive trap, and induces the insect to come to the spot which he selects. Then the Australian bee-hunter only runs after the single bee; whereas the American bee-hunter economizes his strength by employing two bees, and saving his legs.

He puts honey on a flat wooden slab, having drawn a circle of white paint round it. The bee alights on the honey, and, after filling its crop, crawls through the white paint and sets off homeward. The hunter follows the “bee-line” taken by the insect, and marks it by scoring or “blazing” a few trees. He then removes his honeyed trap to a spot at an angle with his former station and repeats the process. There is no need for him to race after the flying bee, and to run considerable risk of damaging himself more or less seriously; he simply follows out the lines which the two bees have taken, and, by fixing on the point at which they meet, walks leisurely up to the nest.

Having found his bee nest, the Australian loses no time in ascending to the spot, whether it be a cleft in a rock, or, as is usually the case, a hole in a tree. This latter spot is much favored by the bees, as well as by many of the arboreal mammals, of which there are so many in Australia. The sudden and violent tempests which rage in that part of the world tear off the branches of trees and hurl them to the ground. During succeeding rainy seasons, the wet lodges in the broken branch, and by degrees rots away the wood, which is instantly filled with the larvæ of beetles, moths, flies, and other insects that feed upon decaying wood. Thus, in a few years, the hollow extends itself until it burrows into the tree itself, and sometimes descends nearly from the top to the bottom, thus forming an admirable locality for the bees.

Taking with him a hatchet, a basket, and a quantity of dry grass or leaves, the native ascends, lights the grass, and under cover of the smoke chops away the wood until he can get at the combs, which he places in the basket, with which he descends. Should he be too poor to possess even a basket, he extemporizes one by cutting away the bark of the tree; and should the nest be a very large one, he is supplied by his friends from below with a number of vessels, and passes them down as fast as they are filled.

Perhaps some of my readers may remark that honey cannot be rightly considered as insect food, and that it ought to have been ranked among the vegetable productions. The Australian, however, does not content himself with extracting the honey from the comb, but eats it precisely in the state in which it is brought from the nest. As the bees are not forced, as amongst English bee-masters, to keep their honey-cells distinct from those which contain the hoard and the “bee-bread,” each comb contains indiscriminately bee-bread, young bee-grubs, and honey, and the Australian eats all three with equal satisfaction.

Another kind of insect food is a grub which inhabits the trunks of trees, and of which the natives are inordinately fond. They have a wonderful faculty of discovering the presence of this grub, and twist it out of its hole with an odd little instrument composed of a hook fastened to the end of a slender twig. This implement is carried in the hair so as to project over the ear, like a clerk’s pen, and for a long time puzzled travellers, who thought it to be merely an ornament, and could not understand its very peculiar shape.

The larva is the caterpillar of a moth which is closely allied to the goat-moth of our own country, and has the same habit of burrowing into the wood of living trees. The hooked instrument which is used for drawing them out of their holes is called the “pileyah,” and is employed also for hooking beetles, grubs, and other insects out of their holes in the ground. When the pileyah is used for extracting grubs from the earth, the ground is first loosened by means of a wooden scoop that looks something like a hollowed waddy. The pileyah is then tied to the end of a polygonum twig of sufficient length, and by such means can be introduced into the holes.

Perhaps the most celebrated of the various insect banquets in which the Australians delight is that which is furnished by the bugong moth, as the insect is popularly, but wrongly, called. Instead of belonging to the moth tribe, it is one of the butterflies, and belongs to the graceful family of the Heliconidæ. Its scientific name is Euplœa hamata. The bugong is remarkable for the fact that its body, instead of being slender like that of most butterflies, is very stout, and contains an astonishing amount of oily matter. The color of the insect is dark brown, with two black spots on the upper wings. It is a small insect, measuring only an inch and a half across the wings.

It is found in the New South Wales district, and inhabits a range of hills that are called from the insect the Bugong Mountains. The Australians eat the bugong butterflies just as locusts are eaten in many parts of the world, and, for the short time during which the insect makes its appearance, feast inordinately upon it, and get quite fat. The following account is given by Mr. G. Bennett:—

“After riding over the lower ranges, we arrived a short distance above the base of the Bugong Mountain, tethered the horses, and ascended on foot, by a steep and rugged path, which led us to the first summit of the mountain: at this place, called Ginandery by the natives, enormous masses of granite rock, piled one upon another, and situated on the verge of a wooded precipice, excited our attention. An extensive and romantic view was here obtained of a distant, wooded, mountainous country.

“This was the first place where, upon the smooth sides or crevices of the granite blocks, the bugong moths congregated in such incredible multitudes; but, from the blacks having recently been here, we found but few of the insects remaining. At one part of this group of granite rocks were two pools, apparently hollowed naturally from the solid stone, and filled with cool and clear water; so, lighting a fire, we enjoyed a cup of tea previous to recommencing our further ascent. On proceeding we found the rise more gradual, but unpleasant, from the number of loose stones and branches of trees strewed about; several of the deserted bark huts of the natives (which they had temporarily erected when engaged in collecting and preparing the bugong) were scattered around. Shrubs and plants were numerous as we proceeded, but, with few exceptions, did not differ from those seen in other parts of the colony.

“Near a small limpid stream a species of Lycopodium grew so dense as to form a carpet over which we were able to walk. The timber trees towered to so great an elevation that the prospect of the country we had anticipated was impeded. At last we arrived at another peculiar group of granite rocks in enormous masses and of various forms; this place, similar to the last, formed the locality where the bugong moths congregate, and is called ‘Warrogong’ by the natives. The remains of recent fires apprised us that the aborigines had only recently left the place for another of similar character a few miles further distant.

“Our native guides wished us to proceed and join the tribe, but the day had so far advanced that it was thought more advisable to return, because it was doubtful, as the blacks removed from a place as soon as they had cleared it of the insects, whether we should find them at the next group, or removed to others still further distant.

“From the result of my observations it appears that the insects are only found in such multitudes on these insulated and peculiar masses of granite, for about the other solitary granite rocks, so profusely scattered over the range, I did not observe a single moth, or even the remains of one. Why they should be confined only to these particular places, or for what purpose they thus collect together, is not a less curious than interesting subject of inquiry. Whether it be for the purpose of emigrating, or any other cause, our present knowledge cannot satisfactorily answer.

“The bugong moths, as I have before observed, collect on the surfaces, and also in the crevices, of the masses of granite in incredible quantities. To procure them with greater facility, the natives make smothered fires underneath these rocks about which they are collected, and suffocate them with smoke, at the same time sweeping them off frequently in bushelfuls at a time. After they have collected a large quantity, they proceed to prepare them, which is done in the following manner.

“A circular space is cleared upon the ground, of a size proportioned to the number of insects to be prepared; on it a fire is lighted and kept burning until the ground is considered to be sufficiently heated, when, the fire being removed, and the ashes cleared away, the moths are placed upon the heated ground, and stirred about until the down and wings are removed from them; they are then placed on pieces of bark, and winnowed to separate the dust and wings mixed with the bodies; they are then eaten, or placed into a wooden vessel called ‘walbum,’ or ‘calibum,’ and pounded by a piece of wood into masses or cakes resembling lumps of fat, and may be compared in color and consistence to dough made from smutty wheat mixed with fat.

“The bodies of the moths are large and filled with a yellowish oil, resembling in taste a sweet nut. These masses (with which the ‘netbuls,’ or ‘talabats,’ of the native tribes are loaded during the season of feasting upon the bugong) will not keep more than a week, and seldom even for that time; but by smoking they are able to preserve them for a much longer period. The first time this diet is used by the native tribes, violent vomiting and other debilitating effects are produced, but after a few days they become accustomed to its use, and then thrive and fatten exceedingly upon it.

“These insects are held in such estimation among the aborigines, that they assemble from all parts of the country to collect them from these mountains. It is not only the native blacks that resort to the bugong, but crows also congregate for the same purpose. The blacks (that is, the crows and the aborigines) do not agree about their respective shares: so the stronger decides the point; for, when the crows (called ‘arabul’ by the natives) enter the hollows of the rocks to feed upon the insects, the natives stand at the entrance and kill them as they fly out; and they afford them an excellent meal, being fat from feeding upon the rich bugong. So eager are the feathered blacks or arabuls after this food that they attack it even when it is preparing by the natives; but as the aborigines never consider any increase of food a misfortune, they lay in wait for the arabuls with waddies or clubs, kill them in great numbers, and use them as food.”

Reptiles form a very considerable part of an Australian’s diet, and he displays equal aptitude in capturing and cooking them. Turtle is an especial favorite with him, not only on account of its size, and of the quantity of meat which it furnishes, but on account of the oil which is obtained from it.

On the coast of Australia several kinds of turtle are found, the most useful of which are the ordinary green turtle and the hawksbill. They are caught either in the water, or by watching for them when they come on shore for the purpose of laying their eggs, and then turning them on their backs before they can reach the sea. As, however, comparatively few venture on the shore, the greater number are taken in the water. Along the shore the natives have regular watchtowers or cairns made of stones and the bones of turtles, dugongs, and other creatures. When the sentinel sees a turtle drifting along with the tide, he gives the alarm, and a boat puts out after it. The canoe approaches from behind, and paddles very cautiously so that the reptile may not hear it. As soon as they come close to it, the chief hunter, who holds in his hand one end of a slight but tough rope, leaps on the turtle’s back, and clings to it with both hands on its shoulders. The startled reptile dashes off, but before it has got very far the hunter contrives to upset it, and while it is struggling he slips the noose of the rope over one of its flippers. The creature is then comparatively helpless, and is towed ashore by the canoe.

In some districts the turtle is taken by means of a harpoon, which is identical in principle with that which is used by the hippopotamus hunters of Africa. There is a long shaft, into the end of which is loosely slipped a movable head. A rope is attached to the head, and a buoy to the other end of the rope. As soon as the reptile is struck, the shaft is disengaged, and is picked up by the thrower; while the float serves as an indication of the turtle’s whereabouts, and enables the hunters to tow it toward the shore.

One of the natives, named Gi’ôm, told Mr. M’Gillivray that they sometimes caught the turtle by means of the remora, or sucking-fish. One of these fish, round whose tail a line has been previously made fast, is kept in a vessel of water on board the boat, and, when a small turtle is seen, the remora is dropped into the sea. Instinctively it makes its way to the turtle, and fastens itself so firmly to the reptile’s back that they are both hauled to the boat’s side and lifted in by the fishermen. Only small turtles can be thus taken, and there is one species which never attains any great size which is generally captured in this curious manner.

The hawksbill turtle is too dangerous an antagonist to be chased in the water. The sharp-edged scales which project from its sides would cut deeply into the hands of any man who tried to turn it; and even the green turtle, with its comparatively blunt-edged shell, has been known to inflict a severe wound upon the leg of the man who was clinging to its back. The native, therefore, is content to watch it ashore, and by means of long, stout poles, which he introduces leverwise under its body, turns it over without danger to himself.

When the Australians have succeeded in turning a turtle, there are great rejoicings, as the very acme of human felicity consists, according to native ideas, in gorging until the feasters can neither stand nor sit. They may be seen absolutely rolling on the ground in agony from the inordinate distension of their stomachs, and yet, as soon as the pain has abated, they renew their feastings. Mostly they assemble round the turtle, cook it rudely, and devour it on the spot; but in Torres Straits they are more provident, and dry the flesh in order to supply themselves with food during their voyages. They cut up the meat into thin slices, boil the slices, and then dry them in the sun.

During the process of cooking, a considerable amount of oil rises to the surface, and is skimmed off and kept in vessels made of bamboo and turtles’ bladders. The cook, however, has to exercise some vigilance while performing his task, as the natives are so fond of the oil that, unless they are closely watched, they will skim it off and drink it while in an almost boiling state. The boiling and subsequent drying render the flesh very hard, so that it will keep for several weeks; but it cannot be eaten without a second boiling.

The shell of the hawksbill turtle is doubly valuable to the natives, who reserve a little for the manufacture of hooks, and sell the rest to shippers or traders, who bring it to Europe, where it is converted into the “tortoise-shell” with which we are so familiar. There is in my collection a beautiful specimen of one of these scales of tortoise-shell as it was purchased from the natives. It is about eleven inches in length and seven in width, and has a hole at one end by which they string the scales together. There are the scars of eight large limpet shells upon it, showing the singular appearance which the animal must have presented when alive.

The cooking of turtle is a far more important process than that of boiling fish, and a sort of oven is required in order to dress it properly. In principle the oven resembles that which is in use in so many parts of the world, and which has been already described when shewing how the hunters of South Africa cook the elephant’s foot. Instead, however, of digging a hole and burning wood in it, the Australian takes a number of stones, each about the size of a man’s fist, and puts them into the fire. When they are heated, they are laid closely together, and the meat placed upon them. A second layer of heated stones is arranged upon the meat, and a rim or bank of tea-tree bush, backed up with sand or earth, is built round this primitive oven. Grass and leaves are then strewn plentifully over the stones, and are held in their places by the circular bank. The steam is thus retained, and so the meat is cooked in a very effectual manner.

In some parts of the country, however, a more elaborate oven is used. It consists of a hole some three feet in diameter and two feet in depth, and is heated in the following manner:—It is filled to within six inches of the top with round and hard stones, similar to those which have already been described, and upon them a fire is built and maintained for some time. When the stones are thought to be sufficiently heated, the embers are swept away, and the food is simply laid upon the stones and allowed to remain there until thoroughly cooked.

This kind of oven is found over a large range of country, and Mr. M’Gillivray has seen it throughout the shores of Torres Straits, and extending as far southward as Sandy Cape on the eastern side.

(1.) BEE HUNTING.
(See [page 711].)

(2.) COOKING A SNAKE.
(See [page 717].)

Although the idea of snake eating is so repugnant to our ideas that many persons cannot eat eels because they look like snakes, the Australian knows better, and considers a snake as one of the greatest delicacies which the earth produces. And there is certainly no reason why we should repudiate the snake as disgusting while we accept the turtle and so many of the tortoise kind as delicacies, no matter whether their food be animal or vegetable. The Australian knows that a snake in good condition ought to have plenty of fat, and to be well flavored, and is always easy in his mind so long as he can catch one.

The process of cooking (see [page 716]) is exactly like that which is employed with fish, except that more pains are taken about it, as is consistent with the superior character of the food. The fire being lighted, the native squats in front of it and waits until the flame and smoke have partly died away, and then carefully coils the snake on the embers, turning it and recoiling it until all the scales are so scorched that they can be rubbed off. He then allows it to remain until it is cooked according to his ideas, and eats it deliberately, as becomes such a dainty, picking out the best parts for himself, and, if he be in a good humor, tossing the rest to his wives.

Snake hunting is carried on in rather a curious manner. Killing a snake at once, unless it should be wanted for immediate consumption, would be extremely foolish, as it would be unfit for food before the night had passed away. Taking it alive, therefore, is the plan which is adopted by the skilful hunter, and this he manages in a very ingenious way.

Should he come upon one of the venomous serpents, he cuts off its retreat, and with his spear or with a forked stick he irritates it with one hand, while in his other he holds the narrow wooden shield. By repeated blows he induces the reptile to attack him, and dexterously receives the stroke on the shield, flinging the snake back by the sudden repulse. Time after time the snake renews the attack, and is as often foiled; and at last it yields the battle, and lies on the ground completely beaten. The hunter then presses his forked stick on the reptile’s neck, seizes it firmly, and holds it while a net is thrown over it and it is bound securely to his spear. It is then carried off, and reserved for the next day’s banquet.

Sometimes the opossum-skin cloak takes the place of the shield, and the snake is allowed to bite it.

The carpet snake, which sometimes attains the length of ten or twelve feet, is favorite game with the Australian native, as its large size furnishes him with an abundant supply of meat, as well as the fat in which his soul delights. This snake mostly lives in holes at the foot of the curious grass-tree, of which we shall see several figures in the course of the following pages, and in many places it is so plentiful that there is scarcely a grass-tree without its snake.

As it would be a waste of time to probe each hole in succession, the natives easily ascertain those holes which are inhabited by smearing the earth around them with a kind of white clay mixed with water, which is as soft as putty. On the following day they can easily see, by the appearance of the clay, when a snake has entered or left its hole, and at once proceed to induce the reptile to leave its stronghold. This is done by putting on the trunk of the tree immediately over the hole a bait, which the natives state to be honey, and waiting patiently, often for many hours, until the serpent is attracted by the bait and climbs the tree. As soon as it is clear of the hole, its retreat is cut off, and the result of the ensuing combat is a certainty. The forked spear which the native employs is called a bo-bo.

All the tribes which live along the eastern coast, especially those which inhabit the northern part of the country, are in the habit of capturing the dugong. This animal is very fond of a green, branchless, marine alga, and ventures to the shore in order to feed upon it. The natives are on the watch for it, and, as soon as a dugong is seen, a canoe puts off after it.

Each canoe is furnished with paddles and a harpooner, who is armed with a weapon very similar to that which is used by the turtle catchers, except that no buoy is required. It is composed of a shaft some twelve or fifteen feet in length, light at one end, and heavy at the other. A hole is made at the heavy end, and into the hole is loosely fitted a kind of spear head made of bone, about four inches in length, and covered with barbs. One end of a stout and long rope is made fast to this head, and the other is attached to the canoe.

As soon as he is within striking distance, the harpooner jumps out of the boat into the water, striking at the same time with his weapon, so as to add to the stroke the force of his own weight. Disengaging the shaft, he returns to the canoe, leaving the dugong attached to it by the rope. The wounded animal dives and tries to make its way seaward. Strange to say, although the dugong is a large animal, often eight feet in length, and very bulky in proportion to its length, it seldom requires to be struck a second time, but rises to the surface and dies in a few minutes from a wound occasioned by so apparently insignificant a weapon as a piece of bone struck some three inches into its body. When it is dead, it is towed ashore, and rolled up the bank to some level spot, where preparations are at once made for cooking and eating it.

Those who are acquainted with zoölogy are aware that the dugong is formed much after the manner of the whale, and that it is covered first with a tough skin and then with a layer of blubber over the muscles. This structure, by the way, renders its succumbing to the wound of the harpoon the more surprising. The natives always cut it up in the same manner. The tail is sliced much as we carve a round of beef, while the body is cut into thin slices as far as the ribs, each slice having its own proportion of meat, blubber, and skin. The blubber is esteemed higher than any other portion of the animal, though even the tough skin can be rendered tolerably palatable by careful cooking.

Of all Australian animals, the kangaroo is most in favor, both on account of the excellent quality of the flesh, and the quantity which a single kangaroo will furnish. It is hardly necessary to remind the reader that with the Australian, as with other savages, quantity is considered rather than quality. A full grown “boomah” kangaroo will, when standing upright, in its usual attitude of defence, measure nearly six feet in height, and is of very considerable weight. And, when an Australian kills a kangaroo, he performs feats of gluttony to which the rest of the world can scarcely find a parallel, and certainly not a superior. Give an Australian a kangaroo and he will eat until he is nearly dead from repletion; and he will go on eating, with short intervals of rest, until he has finished the entire kangaroo.

Like other savage creatures, whether human or otherwise, he is capable of bearing deprivation of food to a wonderful extent; and his patient endurance of starvation, when food is not to be obtained, is only to be excelled by his gluttony when it is plentiful. This curious capacity for alternate gluttony and starvation is fostered by the innately lazy disposition of the Australian savage, and his utter disregard for the future. The animal that ought to serve him and his family for a week is consumed in a few hours; and, as long as he does not feel the pain of absolute hunger, nothing can compel the man to leave his rude couch and go off on a hunting expedition. But when he does make up his mind to hunt, he has a bulldog sort of tenacity which forbids him to relinquish the chase until he has been successful in bringing down his game.

CHAPTER LXXI.
AUSTRALIA—Continued.

WEAPONS OF THE AUSTRALIANS, THEIR FORMS AND USES — THE CLUB OR WADDY, AND ITS VARIOUS FORMS — USES OF THE WADDY — A DOMESTIC PANACEA — AN AUSTRALIAN DUEL — THICK SKULLS OF THE NATIVES — LOVE OF THE NATIVE FOR HIS WADDY — THE BLACK POLICE FORCE — THE MISSILE WADDY — THE KATTA, OR DIGGING-STICK, AND ITS VARIED USES — HOW AN AUSTRALIAN DIGS A HOLE — THE STONE TOMAHAWK AND ITS USE — THE ASCENT OF TREES — HOW AN AUSTRALIAN KNOWS WHETHER AN ANIMAL IS IN A TREE — SMOKING OUT THE PREY — THE BLACK-BOY GUM — THE GRASS-TREE OF AUSTRALIA — THE AUSTRALIAN SAW.

As in the course of the following pages all the weapons of the Australian will have to be mentioned, we will take the opportunity of describing them at once, without troubling ourselves as to the peculiar locality in which each modification is found.

We will begin with the club, the simplest of all weapons. Several examples of the club are to be seen in the [illustration] entitled “Australian Clubs,” on the 722d page. All the figures are drawn from actual specimens, some belonging to my own collection, some being sketched from examples in the British Museum, and others being taken from the fine collection of Colonel Lane Fox.

The simplest form of Australian club is that which is known by the name of “waddy,” and which is the favorite weapon of an Australian savage, who never seems to be happy without a waddy in his hands, no matter what other weapons he may happen to carry. One of these waddies may be seen at [fig. 4]. and another at [fig. 5]. The latter is a specimen in my own collection, and affords a very good example of the true Australian waddy. It is made of the tough and heavy wood of the gum-tree, and is really a most effective weapon, well balanced, and bears marks of long usage. The length is two feet eight inches, and, as the reader may see from the illustration, it is sharpened at the point, so that in close combat it can be used for stabbing as well as for striking. It weighs exactly twenty-one ounces.

Four deep grooves run along the waddy, from the point to the spot where it is grasped, and seem to be intended as edges whereby a blow may cut through the skin as well as inflict a bruise. Besides these grooves, there are sundry carvings which the native evidently has thought to be ornamental. On two of the sides the pattern is merely the double-headed T seen in the [illustration], but on the other two sides the pattern is varied. In every case the top figure is the double T; but on one side there is first a T, then a cross with curved arms, then a T, and then a pattern that looks something like a key, having a bow at each end. The fourth side is evidently unfinished, there being only two patterns on it; the second, evidently an attempt to imitate the letter B, showing that the maker had some acquaintance with civilization.

With this waddy the native is better armed than most men would be with the keenest sword that ever was forged, and with it he strikes and stabs with marvellous rapidity, seeming to be actuated, when in combat, by an uncontrollable fury. He can use it as a missile with deadly effect; and if, as is generally the case, he has several of these waddies in his hand, he will hurl one or two of them in rapid succession, and, while the antagonist is still attempting to avoid the flying weapon, precipitate himself upon the foe, and attack him with the waddy which he has reserved for hand-to-hand combat.

The waddy is the Australian panacea for domestic troubles, and if one of his wives should presume to have an opinion of her own, or otherwise to offend her dusky lord, a blow on the head from the ever-ready waddy settles the dispute at once by leaving her senseless on the ground. Sometimes the man strikes the offender on a limb, and breaks it; but he does not do this unless he should be too angry to calculate that, by breaking his slave’s arm or leg, he deprives himself of her services for a period.

With the Australian man of honor the waddy takes the place which the pistol once held in England and the United States, and is the weapon by which disputes are settled. In case two Australians of reputation should fall out, one of them challenges the other to single combat, sending him a derisive message to the effect that he had better bring his stoutest waddy with him, so that he may break it on the challenger’s head.

Thickness of skull—a reproach in some parts of the world—is among the Australians a matter of great boast, and one Australian can hardly insult another in more contemptuous words than by comparing his skull to an emu’s egg-shell. I have examined several skulls of Australian natives, and have been much surprised by two points: the first is the astonishing thickness and hardness of the bone, which seems capable of resisting almost any blow that could be dealt by an ordinary weapon; and the second is the amount of injury which an Australian skull can endure. Owing to the thickness of the skull, the Australian puts his head to strange uses, one of the oddest of which is his custom of breaking sticks on his head instead of snapping them across the knee.

In due time the combatants appear on the ground, each bearing his toughest and heaviest waddy, and attended by his friends. After going through the usual gesticulations and abuse which always precede a duel between savages, the men set definitely to work.

The challenged individual takes his waddy, and marches out into the middle of the space left by the spectators. His adversary confronts him, but unarmed, and stooping low, with his hands on his knees, he offers his head to the opponent. The adversary executes a short dance of delight at the blow which he is going to deal, and then, after taking careful aim, he raises his waddy high in the air, and brings it down with all his force on the head of his foe.

The blow would fell an ordinary ox; but the skull of an Australian is made of sterner stuff than that of a mere ox, and the man accordingly raises himself, rubs his head, and holds out his hand to his nearest friend, who gives him the waddy, which he is about to use in his turn. The challenged man now takes his turn at stooping, while the challenger does his best to smash the skull of the antagonist. Each man, however, knows from long experience the hardest part of his own skull, and takes care to present it to the enemy’s blow. In this way they continue to exchange blows until one of them falls to the ground, when the victory is decided to remain with his antagonist.

In consequence of the repeated injuries to which the head of a native Australian is subjected, the skull of a warrior presents, after death, a most extraordinary appearance, being covered with dents, fractures, and all kinds of injuries, any one of which would have killed an European immediately, but which seems to have only caused temporary inconvenience to the Australian.

So fond is the Australian of his waddy, that even in civilized life he cannot be induced to part with it. Some of my readers may be aware that a great number of captives are now enrolled among the police, and render invaluable service to the community, especially against the depredations of their fellow-blacks whom they persecute with a relentless vigor that seems rather surprising to those who do not know the singular antipathy which invariably exists between wild and tamed animals, whether human or otherwise. In fact, the Australian native policeman is to the colonist what the “Totty” of South Africa is to the Dutch and English colonists, what the Ghoorka or Sikh of India is to the English army, and what the tamed elephant of Ceylon or India is to the hunter.

These energetic “black fellows” are armed with the ordinary weapons of Europeans, and are fully acquainted with their use. But there is not one of them who thinks himself properly armed unless he has his waddy; and, when he enters the bush in search of native thieves, he will lay aside the whole of his clothing, except the cap which marks his office, will carry his gun with him, buckle his cartouch-pouch round his naked waist, and will take his waddy as a weapon, without which even the gun would seem to him an insufficient weapon.

This form of waddy ([fig. 4]), although it is often used as a missile, is not the one which the native prefers for that purpose. His throwing waddy or “wadna,” is much shorter and heavier, and very much resembles the short missile club used so effectively by the Polynesians. Two other forms of waddy are shown at [figs. 3 and 5], the latter of which is generally known by the name of “piccaninny waddy,” because it is generally smaller and lighter than the others, and can be used by a child.

[Nos. 1 and 2] are also clubs, but are made in a different form, and used in a different manner. If the reader will refer to the account of the Abyssinian curved sword, or shotel, he will see that in general form it much resembles this club, the long pointed head of each being equally useful in striking downward over a shield. This weapon is not only used in combat, but is employed in the native dances to beat time by repeated strokes on the shield.

TOMAHAWKS.
(See [page 723].)

AUSTRALIAN CLUBS.
(See [page 719].)

TATTOOING CHISELS.
(See page 801.)

AUSTRALIAN SAW.
(See [page 726].)

MAN OF TORRES STRAIT.
(See [page 705].)

BASKET.
(See [page 699].)

The reader will notice that many of these clubs have the ends of the handles pointed. This formation is partly for the purpose of increasing their efficiency as offensive weapons, and partly for another object. As was the case with the warriors of the Iliad, both combatants will occasionally rest, and give each other time to breathe, before renewing the fight. During these intervals the Australian combatants squat down, dig up the earth with the handle of the club, and rub their hands with the dusty soil, in order to prevent the weapons from slipping out of their grasp.

This club is made in a very ingenious way, the artificer taking advantage of some gnarled branch, and cutting it so that the grain of the wood follows the curve, or rather the angle of the head, which adds greatly to its strength. A club of almost the same shape, and cut similarly from the angle of a branch, is used in New Caledonia, and, but for the great superiority of the workmanship, might easily be mistaken for the angular club of the Australian.

This particular form of club has a tolerably wide range, and among the tribes which inhabit the shores of Encounter Bay is called Marpangye.

In many parts of Australia the natives have a curious weapon which much resembles a sword. It is from three to four feet in length, is flat, about three inches in width, and has the outer edge somewhat sharpened. Being made of the close-grained wood of the gum-tree, it is very heavy in proportion to its size, and in practised hands is a most formidable weapon.

The Australian women carry an instrument which is sometimes thought to be a spear, and sometimes a club, but which in the hands of a woman is neither, though a man will sometimes employ it for either purpose. It is simply a stick of variable length, sharpened at one end and the point hardened by fire. It is called by the natives the “katta,” and is popularly known by the appropriate name of the digging-stick.

With this stick the natives contrive to dig up the ground in a most astonishing manner, and an English “navvy,” with his pick, spade, and barrow, would feel considerably surprised at the work which is done by the naked black, who has no tools except a pointed stick. Let, for example, a navvy be set to work at the task of digging out an echidna from its hole, and he would find his powers of digging baffled by the burrowing capabilities of the animal, which would make its way through the earth faster than could the navvy. In order to sink some six feet deep into the ground, the white man would be obliged to make a funnel-shaped hole of very large size, so as to allow him to work in it, and to give the pick and spade free play as he threw out the soil.

The black man, on the contrary, would have no such difficulty, but knows how to sink a hole without troubling himself to dig a foot of needless soil. This he does by handling the katta precisely as the Bosjesman handles his digging-stick, i. e. by holding it perpendicularly, jobbing the hardened point into the ground, and throwing out with his hands the loosened earth.

In digging out one of the burrowing animals, the black hunter pushes a long and flexible stick down the hole, draws it out, measures along the ground to the spot exactly above the end of the burrow, replaces the stick, and digs down upon it. By the time that he has reached it, the animal has gone on digging, and has sunk its burrow still further. The stick is then pushed into the lengthened burrow, and again dug down upon; and the process is repeated until the tired animal can dig no more, and is captured. The katta also takes the part of a weapon, and can be wielded very effectively by a practised hand, being used either for striking or thrusting.

We now come to a curious instrument which is often thought to be a weapon, but which, although it would answer such a purpose very well, is seldom used for it. This is the tomahawk, or hammer, as it is generally called. Three varieties of the tomahawk are given in the [illustration “Tomahawks”] on the 722d page. In all of them the cutting part is made of stone and the handle of wood, and the head and the handle are joined in several different ways, according to the fashion of the locality in which the instrument is made. The simplest plan is that which is shown in [fig. 1]. In this instrument, a conveniently shaped piece of stone has been selected for a head, and the handle is made of a flexible stick bent over it, and the two ends firmly lashed together, just as the English blacksmith makes handles for his punches and cold chisels. This weapon was made in New South Wales.

At [fig. 3] is shown a tomahawk of a more elaborate construction. Here the stone head has been lashed to the shaft by a thong, which is wrapped over it in a way that exactly resembles the lashing employed by the New Zealander or the Dyak for the same purpose. The tomahawk at [fig. 4] is, however, the best example of the instrument, and is taken from a specimen in the British Museum. The handle and head are shaped much like those of fig. 3, but the fastening is much more elaborate.

In the first place, the head is held to the handle by lashings of sinews, which are drawn from the tail of the kangaroo, and always kept in readiness by the Australian savage. The sinews are steeped in hot water, and pounded between two stones, in order to separate them into fibres; and, while still wet and tolerably elastic, they are wrapped round the stone and the handle. Of course, as they dry, they contract with great force, and bind the head and handle together far more securely than can be done with any other material. Even raw hide does not hold so firmly as sinew.

When the sinew lashing is perfectly dry, the native takes a quantity of the peculiar substance called “black-boy” wax, and kneads it over the head and the end of the handle, so as to bind everything firmly together.

Another instrument is shown at [fig. 2], in which the combination of stone and vegetable is managed in another way. The blade is formed from a piece of quartz about as long as a man’s hand, which has been chipped into the form of a spear-head. The handle, instead of being a piece of wood, is simply a number of fibres made into a bundle. The base of the stone head has been pushed among the loose ends of the fibres, and then the whole has been bound firmly together by a lashing of string made of reeds. This is a sort of dagger; and another form of the same instrument is made by simply sharpening a stick about eighteen inches in length, and hardening the sharpened end in the fire. It is, in fact, a miniature katta, but is applied to a different purpose.

These axes and daggers have been mentioned together, because they are used for the same purpose, namely, the ascent of trees.

Active as a monkey, the Australian native can climb any tree that grows. Should they be of moderate size, he ascends them, not by clasping the trunk with his legs and arms (the mode which is generally used in England), and which is popularly called “swarming.” Instead of passing his legs and arms round the tree-trunk as far as they can go, he applies the soles of his feet to it in front, and presses a hand against it on either side, and thus ascends the tree with the rapidity of a squirrel. This mode of ascent is now taught at every good gymnasium in England, and is far superior to the old fashion, which has the disadvantage of slowness, added to the certainty of damaging the clothes.

Those who have seen our own acrobats performing the feat called La Perche, in which one man balances another on the top of a pole, or the extraordinary variations on it performed by the Japanese jugglers, who balance poles and ladders on the soles of their feet, will be familiar with the manner in which one of the performers runs up the pole which is balanced by his companion. It is by this method that the Australian ascends a tree of moderate dimensions, and, when he is well among the boughs, he traverses them with perfect certainty and quickness.

Trees which will permit the man to ascend after this fashion are, however, rather scarce in the Australian forests, and, moreover, there is comparatively little inducement to climb them, the hollows in which the bees make their nests and the beasts take up their diurnal abode being always in the branch or trunk of some old and decaying tree. Some of these trees are so large that their trunks are veritable towers of wood, and afford no hold to the hands; yet they are ascended by the natives as rapidly as if they were small trees.

By dint of constant practice, the Australian never passes a tree without casting a glance at the bark, and by that one glance he will know whether he will need to mount it. The various arboreal animals, especially the so called opossums, cannot ascend the tree without leaving marks of their claws in the bark. There is not an old tree that has not its bark covered with scratches, but the keen and practised eye of the native can in a moment distinguish between the ascending and descending marks of the animal, and can also determine the date at which they were made.

The difference between the marks of an ascending and descending animal is easy enough to see when it has once been pointed out. When an animal climbs a tree, the marks of its claws are little more than small holes, with a slight scratch above each, looking something like the conventional “tears” of heraldry. But, when it descends, it does so by a series of slippings and catchings, so that the claws leave long scratches behind them. Nearly all arboreal animals, with the exception of the monkey tribe, leave marks of a similar character, and the bear hunter of North America and the possum hunter of Australia are guided by similar marks.

Should the native hunter see an ascending mark of more recent date than the other scratches, he knows that somewhere in the tree lies his intended prey. Accordingly, he lays on the ground everything that may impede him, and, going to the tree-trunk, he begins to deliver a series of chopping blows with his axe. These blows are delivered in pairs, and to an Englishman present rather a ludicrous reminiscence of the postman’s double rap. By each of these double blows he chops a small hole in the tree, and manages so as to cut them alternately right and left, and at intervals of two feet or so.

Having cut these notches as high as he can reach, he places the great toe of his left foot in the lowermost hole, clasps the tree with his left arm, and strikes the head of the tomahawk into the tree as high as he can reach. Using the tomahawk as a handle by which he can pull himself up, he lodges the toe of his right foot in the second hole, and is then enabled to shift the toe of the left foot into the third hole. Here he waits for a moment, holding tightly by both his feet and the left hand and arm, while he cuts more notches; and, by continuing the process, he soon reaches the top of the tree.

When he reaches the first branch, he looks carefully to find the spot toward which the tell-tale scratches are directed, and, guided by them alone, he soon discovers the hole in which the animal lies hidden. He tests the dimensions of the hollow by tapping on the trunk with the axe, and, if it should be of moderate depth, sets at work to chop away the wood, and secure the inmate.

Should, however, the hollow be a deep one, he is obliged to have recourse to another plan. Descending the tree by the same notches as those by which he had climbed it, he takes from his bundle of belongings a fire-stick, i. e. a sort of tinderlike wood, which keeps up a smouldering fire, like that of the willow “touchwood” so dear to schoolboys. Wrapping up the fire-stick in a bundle of dry grass and leaves, he reascends the tree, and, when he has reached the entrance of the burrow, he whirls the bundle round his head until the fire spreads through the mass, and the grass bursts into flame.

As soon as it is well inflamed, he pushes some of the burning material into the burrow, so as to fall upon the enclosed animal, and to rouse it from the heavy sleep in which it passes the hours of daylight. He also holds the rest of the torch at the entrance of the burrow, and manages to direct the smoke into it. Did he not rouse the animal by the burning leaves, he would run a chance of suffocating it in its sleep. This may seem to be a very remote contingency, but in fact it is very likely to happen. I have known a cat to be baked alive in an oven, and yet not to have awaked from sleep, as was evident by the attitude in which the body of the animal was found curled up, with its chin on its paws, and its tail wrapped round its body. Yet the slumber of a domesticated cat, which can sleep as often as it likes in the day or night, is not nearly so deep as that which wraps in oblivion the senses of a wild animal that is abroad all night, and whose whole structure is intended for a nocturnal life.

The chopping holes, and getting the toes into them, seems in theory to be rather a tedious business, but in practice it is quite the contrary, the native ascending almost as quickly as if he were climbing a ladder. As the large trees are so capable of containing the animals on which the Australians feed, there is scarcely one which does not exhibit several series of the notches that denote the track of a native. Strange to say, the Australian hunters will not avail themselves of the notches that have been made by other persons, but each man chops a new series of holes for himself every time that he wants to ascend a tree.

Sometimes a man sees the track of an animal or the indication of a bee’s nest on a tree when he happens not to have an axe in hand. In such a case he is still able to ascend the tree, for he can make use of the dagger which has been already described, punching holes in the bark, and pulling himself up exactly as if he had a tomahawk, the only difference being that the holes are smaller and the work is harder.

When the hunter has once found the entrance of the burrow, the capture of the inmate is simply a matter of time, as the heat and smoke are sure to force it into the air, where it has the double disadvantage of being half-choked with smoke and being blind with the flame and the daylight, to which its eyes are unaccustomed. A blow on the head from the tomahawk, or a stab from the dagger, renders it senseless, when it is flung on the ground, and the successful hunter proceeds to traverse the tree in case some other animal may be hidden in it.

The skill of the natives in tree climbing is also exercised for another purpose besides hunting for bees and animals. The well-known cabbage-palm grows to a very great height, and, like other palms, never grows quite straight, but has always a bend in the trunk. After the manner of the palm-tribe, it grows by a succession of buds from the top, and this bud, popularly called the “cabbage,” is a favorite article of food. It has been called the prince of vegetables, and one enthusiastic traveller declares that it must have been the ambrosia of the Olympic gods. The removal of the bud causes the death of the tree, and for that reason the vegetable is forbidden in civilized regions under penalty of a heavy fine. The savage, however, who has no idea of care for the morrow, much less of looking forward to future years, takes the bud wherever he meets it, caring nothing for the death of the useful tree. He ascends by means of a little wooden dagger, or warpoo, or makes use of the tomahawk. The quartz dagger which was shown in a previous [illustration] would not be used for tree climbing, unless the owner could not procure a tomahawk or warpoo. Its chief use is as a weapon, and it can be also employed as a knife, by means of which the savage can mutilate a fallen enemy, after the manner which will be described when we come to treat of warfare in Australia.

The “black-boy” gum, which plays so large a part in the manufacture of Australian weapons and implements, is obtained from the grass-tree, popularly called the “black boy,” because at a distance it may easily be mistaken for a native, with his spear and cloak. It is very tenacious in its own country, but when brought to England it becomes brittle, and is apt to break away from the weapon in fragments, just as does a similar preparation called “kurumanni” gum, which is made by the natives of Guiana. It is quite black, and when dry is extremely hard.

The grass-tree is one of the characteristic plants of Australia, and partakes of the strange individuality of that curious country. The trunk is cylindrical, and looks like that of a palm, while an enormous tuft of long leaves starts from the top and droops in all directions, like a gigantic plume of feathers. The flower shoots up straight from the centre; and the long stalk becomes, when dried, so hard, tough, and light, that it is made into spear shafts.

There is in my collection an [Australian saw] (illustrated on page 722), in the manufacture of which the black-boy gum plays a considerable part. No one would take it for a saw who did not know the implement, and indeed it looks much more like a rude dagger than a saw. It is made from a piece of wood usually cut from a branch of the gum-tree, and about as thick as a man’s finger at the thickest part, whence it tapers gradually to a point. The average length of the saw is fourteen inches, though I have seen them nearly two feet long.

Along the thicker end is cut a groove, which is intended to receive the teeth of the saw. These teeth are made from chips of quartz or obsidian, the latter being preferred; and some makers, who have been brought in contact with civilization, have taken to using fragments of glass bottles. A number of flat and sharp-edged chips are selected as nearly as possible of the same size, and being on an average as large as a shilling. These the natives insert into the groove with their sharp edges uppermost. A quantity of black-boy wax is then warmed and applied to them, the entire wood of the saw being enveloped in it, as well as the teeth for half their depth, so as to hold them firmly in their places. As the chips of stone are placed so as to leave little spaces between them, the gaps are filled in with this useful cement.

For Australian work this simple tool seems to answer its purpose well enough. Of course it is very slow in its operation, and no great force can be applied to it, lest the teeth should be broken, or twisted out of the cement. The use of this saw entails great waste of material, time, and labor; but as the first two of these articles are not of the least value to the natives, and the third is of the lightest possible kind, the tool works well enough for its purpose. A perfect specimen of this saw is not often seen in this country, as the black-boy wax flakes off, and allows the teeth to drop out of their place. Even in my own specimen, which has been carefully tended, the wax has been chipped off here and there, while in instruments that have been knocked about carelessly scarcely a tooth is left in its place. Owing to the pointed end of the handle, the saw can be used after the fashion of a dagger, and can be employed, like the warpoo, for the ascent of trees.

CHAPTER LXXII.
AUSTRALIA—Continued.

THE AUSTRALIAN SPEAR AND ITS MANY FORMS — THE THROWING-SPEAR OR JAVELIN — A GROUP OF AUSTRALIAN SPEARS — THE LIGHTNESS OF THE SHAFT — THE MANY-POINTED FISH-SPEAR — INGENIOUS MODE OF TIPPING THE POINTS WITH BONE, AND FASTENING THEM TO THE SHAFT — ELASTICITY OF THE POINTS — DOUBLE USE AS PADDLE AND SPEAR — AN ELABORATELY-MADE WEAPON — FLINT-HEADED SPEARS — EXCELLENCE OF THE AUSTRALIAN AS A THROWER OF MISSILES — THE CLUB, THE STONE, AND THE “KANGAROO-RAT” — THE THROW-STICK, MIDLAH, OR WUMMERAH — PRINCIPLE ON WHICH IT IS CONSTRUCTED — MODES OF QUIVERING THE SPEAR — DISTANCE TO WHICH IT CAN BE THROWN — THE UNDERHAND THROW — ACCURACY OF AIM — SPEARING THE KANGAROO — THE BOW AND ARROW — STRENGTH OF THE BOW — THE RATTAN STRING AND INGENIOUS KNOT — CAREFUL MANUFACTURE OF THE ARROWS — PRESUMED ORIGIN OF THE WEAPONS — THE BOOMERANG AND ITS VARIOUS FORMS — MODE OF THROWING THE WEAPON — ITS PROBABLE ORIGIN — STRUCTURE OF THE BOOMERANG — THE AUSTRALIAN SHIELD, ITS FORMS AND USES — THE WOODEN AND THE BARK SHIELDS.

We now come to the various forms of the spears which are used by the native Australians.

The usual weapon is slight, and scarcely exceeds in diameter the assagai of Southern Africa. It is, however, considerable longer, the ordinary length being from nine to eleven feet. As a general rule, the spear is constructed after a very rude fashion, and the maker seems to care but little whether the shaft be perfectly straight, so that the weapon be tolerably well balanced. There are several specimens of Australian spears in my collection, one of which (a weapon that has evidently been a favorite one, as it shows marks of long usage) is twice bent, the second bend counteracting the former, and so bringing the weapon tolerably straight.

The butt of the Australian spear, like that of the South African assagai, is very slight, the shaft tapering gradually from the head, which is about as large as a man’s finger, to the butt, where it is hardly thicker than an artist’s pencil. This, being one of the common spears, is simply sharpened at the end, and a few slight barbs cut in the wood. I have, however, specimens in which there is almost every variety of material, dimensions, and structure that can be found in Australia.

Some of these are made on the same principle as that which has just been described, but differ from it in having a separate head, made of hard and heavy wood. This is deeply cut with barbs; so that the weapon is a more formidable one than that which is made simply from one piece of wood. The head of one of these spears is shown at [fig. 7] in the illustration “Heads of Spears,” on page 731.

Several of the spears are perfectly plain, being simply long sticks, pointed at the larger end. These, however, have been scraped very carefully, and seem to have had more pains bestowed upon them than those with more elaborate heads. These spears are about eight feet in length.

Then there are other spears with a variable number of heads, and of variable dimensions. The commonest form of multiheaded spears has either three or four points; but in every other respect, except number, the spear heads are constructed in the same manner. One of these spears, now before me, has a shaft about nine feet in length, and rather more than an inch in diameter at the thickest part, which, as is usual with Australian spears, is just below the head. The wood of which it is made is exceedingly light and porous; but this very quality has unfortunately made it so acceptable to the ptilinus beetles that they have damaged it sadly, and rendered it so brittle that a very slight shock would snap it. Indeed, the shaft of one of them was broken into three pieces by a little child stumbling against it while coming down stairs.

The four points which constitute the head are cut from the gum-tree, the wood of which is hard and durable, and can be trimmed to a very sharp point without danger of breakage. Each of them is twenty inches in length, and they are largest in the middle, tapering slightly at one end so as to permit of their being fastened to the shaft, and being scraped to a fine point at the other end.

On examination I find that the large end of the shaft has been cut into four grooves, in each of which is placed the butt end of one of the points, which is fixed temporarily by black-boy gum. Wedgelike pegs have then been pushed between the points, so as to make them diverge properly from each other, and, when they have assumed the proper position, they have been tightly bound together with cord. A layer of black-boy gum has then been kneaded over the string, so as to keep all firmly together.

So much for the mode of putting on the points, the end of one of which may be seen at [fig. 3] in the illustration. My own specimen, however, is better made than that from which the sketch has been taken. The reader will perceive that there is a barb attached to the point, and lashed in its place by string. In my specimen the barb is made of a piece of bone about as long as a skewer, and sharply pointed at both ends. In the example shown in the illustration, the barb merely projects from the side of the point, whereas in my specimen the bone answers the purpose both of point and barb. In order to enable it to take the proper direction, the top of the wooden point is bevelled off, and the piece of bone lashed to it by the middle, so that one end becomes the point of the weapon, and the other end does duty for the barb. Wishing to see how this was done, I have cut away part of the lashings of one of the four points, and have been much struck with the ingenuity displayed by the maker in fastening the bone to the point, so as to make it discharge its double duty. The barbs are all directed inward, so that, when the native makes a stroke at a fish, the slippery prey is caught between the barbs, and held there just as is an eel between the prongs of the spear. The elasticity of the four long points causes them to diverge when they come upon the back of a fish, and to contract tightly upon it, so that the points of the barbs are pressed firmly into its sides.

This spear also stands the native instead of a paddle, and with it he contrives to guide his fragile bark with moderate speed. How he manages to stand erect in so frail a vessel, to paddle about, to strike the fish, and, lastly, to haul the struggling prey aboard, is really a marvel. The last-mentioned feat is the most wonderful, as the fish are often of considerable size, and the mere leverage of their weight at the end of a ten-foot spear, added to the violent struggles which the wounded fish makes, seems sufficient to upset a far more stable vessel.

Yet the natives manage to pass hour after hour without meeting with an accident, and in one of their tiny boats, which seem scarcely large enough to hold a single European, even though he should be accustomed to the narrow outrigger skiff, or the comparatively modern canoe, two men will be perfectly comfortable, spearing and hauling in their fish, and even cooking them with a fire made on an extemporized hearth of wet sand and stones in the middle of the canoe.

Night is the favorite time for fish spearing, and then the sight of a number of natives engaged in the watery chase is a most picturesque one. They carry torches, by means of which they see to the bottom of the water, and which have also the advantage of dazzling the fish; and the effect of the constantly moving torches, the shifting glare on the rippled water, and the dark figures moving about, some searching for fish, others striking, and others struggling with the captured prey, is equally picturesque and exciting. The torches which they use are made of inflammable bark: and the whole scene is almost precisely like that which is witnessed in “burning the water,” in North America, or, to come nearer home, “leistering” in Scotland.

In the daytime they cannot use the torch, and, as the slightest breeze will cause a ripple on the surface of the water that effectually prevents them from seeing the fish, they have an ingenious plan of lying flat across the canoe, with the upper part of the head and the eyes immersed in the water, and the hand grasping the spear ready for the stroke. The eyes being under the ripple, they can see distinctly enough.

I have often employed this plan when desirous of watching the proceedings of sub-aquatic animals. It is very effectual, though after a time the attitude becomes rather fatiguing, and those who are not gymnasts enough to be independent as to the relative position of their heads and heels are apt to find themselves giddy from the determination of blood to the head.

Another spear, also used for fishing, and with an elaborate head, is seen at [fig 8]. In this spear one point is iron, and the other two are bone. The weapon is remarkable for the manner in which the shaft is allowed to project among the points, and for the peculiar mode in which the various parts are lashed together. This specimen comes from the Lower Murray River.

There is in my collection a weapon which was brought from Cape York. It is a fishing spear, and at first sight greatly resembles that which has just been described. It is, however, of a more elaborate character, and deserves a separate description. It is seven feet in length, and very slender, the thickest part of the shaft not being more than half an inch in diameter. It has four points, two of which are iron and without barbs, the iron being about the thickness of a crow-quill, and rather under three inches in length. The two bone points are made from the flat tail-bone of one of the rays, and, being arranged with the point of the bone in front, each of these points has a double row of barbs directed backward, one running along each edge.

At [fig. 6] of the same illustration is seen a very formidable variety of the throwing-spear. Along each side of the head the native warrior has cut a groove, and has stuck in it a number of chips of flint or quartz, fastened in their places by the black-boy gum, just as has been related of the saw. The workmanship of this specimen is, however, far ruder than that of the saw, the pieces of flint not being the same size, nor so carefully adjusted. Indeed, it seems as if the saw maker laid aside the fragments of flint which he rejected for the tool, and afterward used them in arming the head of his spear. One of these weapons in my collection is armed on one side of the head only, along which are arranged four pieces of obsidian having very jagged edges, and being kept in their places by a thick coating of black-boy gum extending to the very point of the spear.

At [figs. 4 and 5] of the same illustration are seen two spear heads which remind the observer of the flint weapons which have of late years been so abundantly found in various parts of the world, and which belonged to races of men now long extinct. The spear heads are nearly as large as a man’s hand, and are made of flint chipped carefully into the required shape. They are flat, and the maker has had sufficient knowledge of the cleavage to enable him to give to each side a sharp and tolerably uniform edge. It will be observed that [fig. 5] is much darker than [fig. 4]. This distinction is not accidental, but very well expresses the variety in the hue of the material employed, some of the spear heads being pale brown, and some almost black. The weapons are, in fact, nothing but elongations of the dagger shown in [fig. 2], of the “tomahawks,” on page 722.

If the reader will look at [figs. 1 and 2] of the illustration, he will see that there are two heads of somewhat similar construction, except that one is single and the other double. These spears were brought from Port Essington.

Specimens of each kind are in my collection. They are of great size, one being more than thirteen feet in length, and the other falling but little short of that measurement. In diameter they are as thick as a man’s wrist; and, however light may be the wood of which they are made, they are exceedingly weighty, and must be very inferior in efficiency to the light throwing-spears which have already been described. Of course such a weapon as that is meant to be used as a pike, and not as a missile. Besides these, I have another with three heads, and of nearly the same dimensions as the two others.

In every case the head and the shaft are of different material, the one being light and porous, and the other hard, compact, and heavy. Instead of being lashed together with the neatness which is exhibited in the lighter weapons, the head and shaft are united with a binding of thick string, wrapped carefully, but yet roughly, round the weapon, and not being covered with the coating of black-boy gum, which gives so neat a look to the smaller weapons. In the three-pointed spear, the maker has exercised his ingenuity in decorating the weapon with paint, the tips of the points being painted with red and the rest of the head white, while the lashing is also painted red.

In his wild state the Australian native never likes to be without a spear in his hand, and, as may be expected from a man whose subsistence is almost entirely due to his skill in the use of weapons, he is a most accomplished spear thrower. Indeed, as a thrower of missiles in general the Australian stands without a rival. Putting aside the boomerang, of which we shall presently treat, the Australian can hurl a spear either with his hand or with the “throw-stick,” can fling his short club with unerring aim, and, even should he be deprived of these missiles, he has a singular faculty of throwing stones. Many a time, before the character of the natives was known, has an armed soldier been killed by a totally unarmed Australian. The man has fired at the native, who, by dodging about, has prevented the enemy from taking a correct aim, and then has been simply cut to pieces by a shower of stones, picked up and hurled with a force and precision that must be seen to be believed. When the first Australian discoverer came home, no one would believe that any weapon could be flung and then return to the thrower, and even at the present day it is difficult to make some persons believe in the stone-throwing powers of the Australian. To fling one stone with perfect precision is not so easy a matter as it seems, but the Australian will hurl one after the other with such rapidity that they seem to be poured from some machine; and as he throws them he leaps from side to side, so as to make the missiles converge from different directions upon the unfortunate object of his aim.

In order to attain the wonderful skill which they possess in avoiding as well as in throwing spears, it is necessary that they should be in constant practice from childhood. Accordingly, they are fond of getting up sham fights, armed with shield, throw-stick, and spear, the latter weapon being headless, and the end blunted by being split and scraped into filaments, and the bushy filaments then turned back, until they form a soft fibrous pad. Even with this protection, the weapon is not to be despised: and if it strike one of the combatants fairly, it is sure to knock him down: and if it should strike him in the ribs, it leaves him gasping for breath. This mimic spear goes by the name of “matamoodlu,” and is made of various sizes according to the age and capabilities of the person who uses it.

There is one missile which is, I believe, as peculiar to Australia as the boomerang, though it is not so widely spread, nor of such use in war or hunting. It is popularly called the “kangaroo-rat,” on account of its peculiar leaping progression, and it may be familiar to those of my readers who saw the Australian cricketers who came over to England in the spring of 1808. The “kangaroo-rat” is a piece of hard wood shaped like a double cone, and having a long flexible handle projecting from one of the points. The handle is about a yard in length, and as thick as an artist’s drawing-pencil, and at a little distance the weapon looks like a huge tadpole with a much elongated tail. In Australia the natives make the tail of a flexible twig, but those who have access to the resources of civilization have found out that whalebone is the best substance for the tail that can be found.

When the native throws the kangaroo-rat, he takes it by the end of the tail and swings it backward and forward, so that it bends quite double, and at last he gives a sort of underhanded jerk and lets it fly. It darts through the air with a sharp and menacing hiss like the sound of a rifle ball, its greatest height being some seven or eight feet from the ground. As soon as it touches the earth, it springs up and makes a succession of leaps, each less than the preceding, until it finally stops. In fact, it skims over the ground exactly as a flat stone skims over the water when boys are playing at “ducks and drakes.” The distance to which this instrument can be thrown is really astonishing. I have seen an Australian stand at one side of Kennington Oval, and throw the “kangaroo-rat” completely across it. Much depends upon the angle at which it first takes the ground. If thrown too high, it makes one or two lofty leaps, but traverses no great distance; and, if it be thrown too low, it shoots along the ground, and is soon brought up by the excessive friction. When properly thrown, it looks just like a living animal leaping along, and those who have been accustomed to traverse the country say that its movements have a wonderful resemblance to the long leaps of a kangaroo-rat fleeing in alarm, with its long tail trailing as a balance behind it.

A somewhat similarly shaped missile is used in Fiji, but the Fijian instrument has a stiff shaft, and it is propelled by placing the end of the forefinger against the butt, and throwing it underhanded. It is only used in a game in which the competitors try to send it skimming along the ground as far as possible.

To return to our spears. It is seldom that an Australian condescends to throw a spear by hand, the native always preferring to use the curious implement called by the aborigines a “wummerah,” or “midlah,” and by the colonists the “throw-stick.” The theory of the throw-stick is simple enough, but the practice is very difficult, and requires a long apprenticeship before it can be learned with any certainty.

The principle of this implement is that of the sling; and the throw-stick is, in fact, a sling made of wood instead of cord, the spear taking the place of the stone. So completely is the throw-stick associated with the spear, that the native would as soon think of going without his spear as without the instrument whereby he throws it. The implement takes different forms in different localities, although the principle of its construction is the same throughout. In the [illustration] entitled “Throw-sticks,” on page 731, the reader may see every variety of form which the throw-stick takes. He will see, on inspecting the figures, that it consists of a stick of variable length and breadth, but always having a barblike projection at one end. Before describing the manner in which the instrument is used, I will proceed to a short notice of the mode of its construction, and the various forms which it takes.

In the first place, it is always more or less flattened; sometimes, as in [fig. 3], being almost leaf-shaped, and sometimes, as in [fig. 6], being quite narrow, and throughout the greater part of its length little more than a flattened stick. It is always made of some hard and elastic wood, and in many cases it is large and heavy enough to be serviceable as a club at close quarters. Indeed, one very good specimen in my collection, which came from the Swan River, was labelled, when it reached me, as an Indian club. This form of the throw-stick is shown at fig. 3.

This particular specimen is a trifle under two feet in length, and in the broadest part it measures four inches and a half in width. In the centre it is one-sixth of an inch in thickness, and diminishes gradually to the edges, which are about as sharp as those of the wooden sword already mentioned. Toward the end, however, it becomes thicker, and at the place where the peg is placed it is as thick as in the middle. Such a weapon would be very formidable if used as a club—scarcely less so, indeed, than the well-known “merai” of New Zealand.

HEADS OF AUSTRALIAN SPEARS.
(See [page 727].)

THROW-STICKS.
(See [page 730].)

BOOMERANGS.
(See [page 737].)

That it has been used for this purpose is evident from a fracture, which has clearly been caused by the effect of a severe blow. The wood is split from one side of the handle half along the weapon, and so it has been rendered for a time unserviceable. The careful owner has, however, contrived to mend the fracture, and has done so in a singularly ingenious manner. He has fitted the broken surfaces accurately together, and has then bound them with the kangaroo-tail sinews which have already been mentioned. The sinews are flat, and have been protected by a thick coating of black-boy gum. Perhaps the reader may be aware that, when catgut is knotted, the ends are secured by scorching them, which makes them swell into round knobs. The sinew has the same property, and the native has secured the ends precisely as an English artisan would do.

The wood is that of the tough, hard, wavy-grained gum-tree. Whether in consequence of much handling by greasy natives, or whether from other causes, I do not know, but I cannot make a label adhere to it. To each of the specimens in my collection is attached a catalogue number, and though I have tried to affix the label with paste, gum, and glue, neither will hold it, and in a few days the label falls off of its own accord. This specimen has been cut from a tree which has been attacked by some boring insect, and the consequence is, that a small hole is bored through it edgewise, and has a very curious appearance. The hole looks exactly like that of our well-known insect, the great Sirex.

The peculiarly-shaped handle is made entirely of black-boy gum, and, with the exception of a tendency to warp away from the wood, it is as firm as on the day when it was first made. The peg which fits into the butt of the spear is in this case made of wood, but in many throw-sticks it is made of bone. [Figs. 1 and 2] are examples of this flattened form of midlah, and were drawn from specimens in Southern Australia. At [figs. 4 and 5] may be seen examples of the throw-stick of Port Essington, one of which, fig. 4, is remarkable for the peculiarly-shaped handle. That of fig. 5 seems to be remarkably inconvenient, and almost to have been made for the express purpose of preventing the native from taking a firm hold of the weapon. [Fig. 6] is an example of the throw-stick of Queensland, and, as may easily be seen, can be used as a club, provided that it be reversed, and the peg end used as a handle.

There is another form of throw-stick used in Northern Australia, an example of which may be seen at [fig. 6]. It is a full foot longer than that which came from the Murray, and is one of the “flattened sticks” which have been casually mentioned. It has a wooden spike for the spear-butt, and a most remarkable handle. Two pieces of melon-shell have been cut at rather long ovals, and have been fixed diagonally across the end of the weapon, one on each side. Black-boy gum has been profusely used in fixing these pieces, and the whole of the interior space between the shells has been filled up with it. A diagonal lashing of sinew, covered with the same gum, passes over the shells, and the handle is strongly wrapped with the same material for a space of five inches.

We will now proceed to see how the native throws the spear.

Holding the throw-stick by the handle, so that the other end projects over his shoulder, he takes a spear in his left hand, fits a slight hollow in its butt to the peg of the midlah, and then holds it in its place by passing the forefinger of the right hand over the shaft. It will be seen that the leverage is enormously increased by this plan, and that the force of the arm is more than doubled.

Sometimes, especially when hunting, the native throws the spear without further trouble, but when he is engaged in a fight he goes through a series of performances which are rather ludicrous to an European, though they are intended to strike terror into the native enemy. The spear is jerked about violently, so that it quivers just like an African assagai, and while vibrating strongly it is thrown. There are two ways of quivering the spear; the one by merely moving the right hand, and the other by seizing the shaft in the left hand, and shaking it violently while the butt rests against the peg of the throw-stick. In any case the very fact of quivering the spear acts on the Australian warrior as it does upon the African. The whirring sound of the vibrating weapon excites him to a pitch of frenzied excitement, and while menacing his foe with the trembling spear, the warrior dances and leaps and yells as if he were mad—and indeed for the moment he becomes a raving madman.

The distance to which the spear can be thrown is something wonderful, and its aspect as it passes through the air is singularly beautiful. It seems rather to have been shot from some huge bow, or to be furnished with some innate powers of flight, than to have been flung from a human arm, as it performs its lofty course, undulating like a thin black snake, and writhing its graceful way through the air. As it leaves the throw-stick, a slight clashing sound is heard, which to the experienced ear tells its story as clearly as the menacing clang of an archer’s bowstring.

To me the distance of its flight is not nearly so wonderful as the precision with which it can be aimed. A tolerably long throw-stick gives so powerful a leverage that the length of range is not so very astonishing. But that accuracy of aim should be attained as well as length of flight is really wonderful. I have seen the natives, when engaged in mock battle, stand at a distance of eighty or ninety yards, and throw their spears with such certainty that, in four throws out of six, the antagonist was obliged to move in order to escape the spears.

Beside the powerful and lofty throw, they have a way of suddenly flinging it underhand, so that it skims just above the ground, and, when it touches the earth, proceeds with a series of ricochets that must be peculiarly embarrassing to a novice in that kind of warfare.

The power of the spear is never better shown than in the chase of the kangaroo. When a native sees one of these animals engaged in feeding, he goes off to a little distance where it cannot see him, gathers a few leafy boughs, and ties them together so as to form a screen. He then takes his spears, throw-stick, and waddy, and goes off in chase of the kangaroo. Taking advantage of every cover, he slips noiselessly forward, always taking care to approach the animal against the wind, so that it shall not be able to detect his presence by the nostrils, and gliding along with studied avoidance of withered leaves, dry twigs, and the other natural objects which, by their rustling and snapping, warn the animal that danger is at hand.

As long as possible, the hunter keeps under the shelter of natural cover, but when this is impossible, he takes to his leafy screen, and trusts to it for approaching within range. Before quitting the trees or bush behind which he has been hiding himself, he takes his spear, fits it to the throw-stick, raises his arm with the spear ready poised, and never moves that arm until it delivers the spear. Holding the leafy screen in front of him with his left hand, and disposing the second spear and other weapons which cannot be hidden so as to look like dead branches growing from the bush, he glides carefully toward the kangaroo, always advancing while it stoops to feed, and crouching quietly behind the screen whenever it raises itself, after the fashion of kangaroos, and surveys the surrounding country.

At last he comes within fair range, and with unerring aim he transfixes the unsuspecting kangaroo. Sometimes he comes upon several animals, and in that case his second spear is rapidly fixed in the midlah and hurled at the flying animals, and, should he have come to tolerably close quarters, the short missile club is flung with certain aim. Having thrown all the missiles which he finds available, he proceeds to despatch the wounded animals with his waddy.

In the [illustration No. 1], on the 739th page, the action of the throw-stick is well shown, and two scenes in the hunt are depicted. In the foreground is a hunter who has succeeded in getting tolerably close to the kangaroos by creeping toward them behind the shadow of trees, and is just poising his spear for the fatal throw. The reader will note the curious bone ornament which passes through the septum of the nose, and gives such a curious character to the face. In the background is another hunter, who has been obliged to have recourse to the bough screen, behind which he is hiding himself like the soldiers in “Macbeth,” while the unsuspecting kangaroos are quietly feeding within easy range. One of them has taken alarm, and is sitting upright to look about it, just as the squirrel will do while it is feeding on the ground.

The reader will now see the absolute necessity of an accurate aim in the thrower—an accomplishment which to me is a practical mystery. I can hurl the spear to a considerable distance by means of a throw-stick, but the aim is quite another business, the spear seeming to take an independent course of its own without the least reference to the wishes of the thrower. Yet the Australian is so good a marksman that he can make good practice at a man at the distance of eighty or ninety yards, making due allowance for the wind, and calculating the curve described by the spear with wonderful accuracy; while at a short distance his eye and hand are equally true, and he will transfix a kangaroo at twenty or thirty yards as certainly as it could be shot by an experienced rifleman.

In some parts of Australia the natives use the bow and arrow; but the employment of such weapons seems to belong chiefly to the inhabitants of the extreme north. There are in my collection specimens of bows and arrows brought from Cape York, which in their way are really admirable weapons, and would do credit to the archers of Polynesia. The bow is more than six feet long, and is made from the male, i. e. the solid bamboo. It is very stiff, and a powerful as well as a practised arm is needed to bend it properly.

Like the spear shaft, this bow is greatly subject to being worm-eaten. My own specimen is so honeycombed by these tiny borers that when it arrived a little heap of yellow powder fell to the ground wherever the bow was set, and, if it were sharply struck, a cloud of the same powder came from it. Fortunately, the same looseness of texture which enabled the beetle to make such havoc served also to conduct the poisoned spirit which I injected into the holes; and now the ravages have ceased, and not the most voracious insect in existence can touch the weapon. The string is very simply made, being nothing but a piece of rattan split to the required thickness. Perhaps the most ingenious part of this bow is the manner in which the loop is made. Although unacquainted with the simple yet effective bowstring knot, which is so well known to our archers, and which would not suit the stiff and harsh rattan, the native has invented a knot which is quite as efficacious, and is managed on the same principle of taking several turns, with the cord round itself just below the loop. In order to give the rattan the needful flexibility it has been beaten so as to separate it into fibres and break up the hard, flinty coating which surrounds it, and these fibres have then been twisted round and round into a sort of rude cord, guarded at the end with a wrapping of the same material in order to preserve it from unravelling.

The arrows are suitable to the bow. They are variable in length, but all are much longer than those which the English bowmen were accustomed to use, and, instead of being a “cloth yard” in length, the shortest measures three feet seven inches in length, while the longest is four feet eight inches from butt to point. They are without a vestige of feathering, and have no nock, so that the native archer is obliged to hold the arrow against the string with his thumb and finger, and cannot draw the bow with the fore and middle finger, as all good English archers have done ever since the bow was known.

The shafts of the arrows are made of reed, and they are all healed with long spikes of some dark and heavy wood, which enable them to fly properly. Some of the heads are plain, rounded spikes, but others are elaborately barbed. One, for example, has a single row of six barbs, each an inch in length, and another has one double barb, like that of the “broad arrow” of England. Another has, instead of a barb, a smooth bulb, ending gradually in a spike, and serving no possible purpose, except perhaps that of ornament. Another has two of these bulbs; and another, the longest of them all, has a slight bulb, and then an attempt at carving. The pattern is of the very simplest character, but it is the only piece of carving on all the weapons. The same arrow is remarkable for having the point covered for some two inches with a sort of varnish, looking exactly like red sealing-wax, while a band of the same material encircles the head about six inches nearer the shaft. The sailor who brought the weapons over told me that this red varnish was poison, but I doubt exceedingly whether it is anything but ornament.

The end of the reed into which the head is inserted is guarded by a wrapping of rattan fibre, covered with a sort of dark varnish, which, however, is not the black-boy gum that is so plentifully used in the manufacture of other weapons. In one instance the place of the wrapping is taken by an inch or so of plaiting, wrought so beautifully with the outside of the rattan cut into flat strips scarcely wider than ordinary twine, that it betrays the Polynesian origin of the weapons, and confirms me in the belief that the bow and arrow are not indigenous to Australia, but have only been imported from New Guinea, and have not made their way inland. The natives of Northern Australia have also evidently borrowed much from Polynesia, as we shall see in the course of this narrative.

The bow is usually about six feet in length, though one in my possession is somewhat longer. Owing to the dimensions of the bow and arrows, a full equipment of them is very weighty, and, together with the other weapons which an Australian thinks it his duty to carry, must be no slight burden to the warrior.

Ferocity of countenance is very characteristic of the race, and, as we shall see when we come to the canoes and their occupants, the people are very crafty: mild and complaisant when they think themselves overmatched, insolent and menacing when they fancy themselves superior, and tolerably sure to commit murder if they think they can do so with impunity. The only mode of dealing with these people is the safe one to adopt with all savages: i. e. never trust them, and never cheat them.

We now come to that most wonderful of all weapons, the boomerang. This is essentially the national weapon of Australia, and is found throughout the West country. As far as is known, it is peculiar to Australia, and, though curious missiles are found in other parts of the world, there is none which can be compared with the boomerang.

On one of the old Egyptian monuments there is a figure of a bird-catcher in a canoe. He is assisted by a cat whom he has taught to catch prey for him, and, as the birds fly out of the reeds among which he is pushing his canoe, he is hurling at them a curved missile which some persons have thought to be the boomerang. I cannot, however, see that there is the slightest reason for such a supposition.

No weapon in the least like the boomerang is at present found in any part of Africa, and, so far as I know, there is no example of a really efficient weapon having entirely disappeared from a whole continent. The harpoon with which the Egyptians of old killed the hippopotamus is used at the present day without the least alteration; the net is used for catching fish in the same manner; the spear and shield of the Egyptian infantry were identical in shape with those of the Kanemboo soldier, a [portrait] of whom may be seen on page 612; the bow and arrow still survive; and even the whip with which the Egyptian task masters beat their Jewish servants is the “khoorbash” with which the Nubian of the present day beats his slave.

In all probability, the curved weapon which the bird-catcher holds in his hand, and which he is about to throw, is nothing more than a short club, analogous to the knob-kerry of the Kaffir, and having no returning power. Varying slightly in some of its details, the boomerang is identical in principle wherever it is made. It is a flattish curved piece of wood, various examples of which may be seen in the [illustration] on the 731st page; and neither by its shape nor material does it give the least idea of its wonderful powers.

The material of which the boomerang (or bommereng, as the word is sometimes rendered) is made is almost invariably that of the gum-tree, which is heavy, hard, and tough, and is able to sustain a tolerably severe shock without breaking. It is slightly convex on the upper surface, and flat below, and is always thickest in the middle, being scraped away toward the edges, which are moderately sharp, especially the outer edge. It is used as a missile, and it is one of the strangest weapons that ever was invented.

In the old fairy tales, with which we are more or less acquainted, one of the strange gifts which is presented by the fairy to the hero is often a weapon of some wonderful power. Thus we have the sword of sharpness, which cut through every thing at which it was aimed, and the coat of mail, which no weapon would pierce. It is a pity, by the way, that the sword and the coat never seem to have been tried against each other. Then there are arrows (in more modern tales modified into bullets) that always struck their mark, and so on. And in one of the highest flights of fairy lore we read of arrows that always returned of their own accord to the archer.

In Australia, however, we have, as an actual fact, a missile that can be thrown to a considerable distance, and which always returns to the thrower. By a peculiar mode of hurling it the weapon circles through the air, and then describes a circular course, falling by the side of or behind the man who threw it. The mode of throwing is very simple in theory, and very difficult in practice. The weapon is grasped by the handle, which is usually marked by a number of cross cuts, so as to give a firm hold, and the flat side is kept downward. Then, with a quick and sharp fling, the boomerang is hurled, the hand at the same time being drawn back, so as to make the weapon revolve with extreme rapidity. A billiard-player will understand the sort of movement when told that it is on the same principle as the “screw-back” stroke at billiards. The weapon must be flung with great force, or it will not perform its evolutions properly.

If the reader would like to practice throwing the boomerang, let me recommend him, in the first place, to procure a genuine weapon, and not an English imitation thereof, such as is generally sold at the toy-shops. He should then go alone into a large field, where the ground is tolerably soft and there are no large stones about, and then stand facing the wind. Having grasped it as described, he should mark with his eye a spot on the ground at the distance of forty yards or so, and hurl the boomerang at it. Should he throw it rightly, the weapon will at first look as if it were going to strike the ground; but, instead of doing so, it will shoot off at a greater or less angle, according to circumstances, and will rise high into the air, circling round with gradually diminishing force, until it falls to the ground. Should sufficient force have been imparted to it, the boomerang will fall some eight or ten yards behind the thrower.

It is necessary that the thrower should be alone, or at least have only an instructor with him, when he practises this art, as the boomerang will, in inexperienced hands, take all kinds of strange courses, and will, in all probability, swerve from its line, and strike one of the spectators; and the force with which a boomerang can strike is almost incredible. I have seen a dog killed on the spot, its body being nearly cut in two by the boomerang as it fell; and I once saw a brass spur struck clean off the heel of an incautious spectator, who ran across the path of the weapon.

It is necessary that he choose a soft as well as spacious field, as the boomerang has a special knack of selecting the hardest spots on which to fall, and if it can find a large stone is sure to strike it, and so break itself to pieces. And if there are trees in the way, it will get among the boughs, perhaps smash itself, certainly damage itself, and probably stick among the branches. The learner should throw also against the wind, as, if the boomerang is thrown with the wind, it does not think of coming back again, but sails on as if it never meant to stop, and is sure to reach a wonderful distance before it falls.

Nearly thirty years ago, I lost a boomerang by this very error. In company with some of my schoolfellows, I was throwing the weapon for their amusement, when one of them snatched it up, turned round, and threw it with all his force in the direction of the wind. The distance to which the weapon travelled I am afraid to mention, lest it should not be believed. The ground in that neighborhood is composed of successive undulations of hill and vale, and we saw the boomerang cross two of the valleys, and at last disappear into a grove of lime-trees that edged the churchyard.

In vain we sought for the weapon, and it was not found until four years afterward, when a plumber, who had been sent to repair the roof of the church, found it sticking in the leads. So it had first traversed that extraordinary distance, had then cut clean through the foliage of a lime-tree, and lastly had sufficient force to stick into the leaden roofing of a church. The boomerang was brought down half decayed, and wrenched out of its proper form by the shock.

Should the reader wish to learn the use of the weapon, he should watch a native throw it. The attitude of the man as he hurls the boomerang is singularly graceful. Holding three or four of the weapons in his left hand, he draws out one at random with his right, while his eyes are fixed on the object which he desires to hit, or the spot to which the weapon has to travel. Balancing the boomerang for a moment in his hand, he suddenly steps a pace or two forward, and with a quick, sharp, almost angry stroke, launches his weapon into the air.

Should he desire to bring the boomerang back again, he has two modes of throwing. In the one mode, he flings it high in the air, into which it mounts to a wonderful height, circling the while with a bold, vigorous sweep, that reminds the observer of the grand flight of the eagle or the buzzard. It flies on until it has reached a spot behind the thrower, when all life seems suddenly to die out of it; it collapses, so to speak, like a bird shot on the wing, topples over and over, and falls to the ground.

There is another mode of throwing the returning boomerang which is even more remarkable. The thrower, instead of aiming high in the air, marks out a spot on the ground some thirty or forty yards in advance, and hurls the boomerang at it. The weapon strikes the ground, and, instead of being smashed to pieces, as might be thought from the violence of the stroke, it springs from the ground Antæus-like, seeming to attain new vigor by its contact with the earth. It flies up as if it had been shot from the ground by a catapult; and, taking a comparatively low elevation, performs the most curious evolutions, whirling so rapidly that it looks like a semi-transparent disc with an opaque centre, and directing its course in an erratic manner that is very alarming to those who are unaccustomed to it. I have seen it execute all its manœuvres within seven or eight feet from the ground, hissing as it passed through the air with a strangely menacing sound, and, when it finally came to the ground, leaping along as if it were a living creature.

We will now examine the various shapes of boomerangs, as seen in the [illustration] on the 731st page. Some of the specimens are taken from the British Museum, some from the collection of Colonel Lane Fox, some from my own, and the rest are drawn by Mr. Angas from specimens obtained in the country. I have had them brought together, so that the reader may see how the boomerang has been gradually modified out of the club.

At [fig. 4] is the short pointed stick which may either answer the purpose of a miniature club, a dagger, or an instrument to be used in the ascent of trees. Just below it is a club or waddy, with a rounded head, and at [fig. 6] the head has been developed into a point, and rather flattened. If the reader will refer to [figs. 6 and 7], he will see two clubs which are remarkable for having not only the knob, but the whole of the handle flattened, and the curve of the head extended to the handle.

The transition from this club to the boomerang is simple enough, and, indeed, we have an example ([fig. 1]) of a weapon which looks like an ordinary boomerang, but is in fact a club, and is used for hand-to-hand combat.

These [figures] show pretty clearly the progressive structure of the boomerang. The flattened clubs were probably made from necessity, the native not being able to find a suitable piece of wood, and taking the best that he could get. If, then, one of these clubs were, on the spur of the moment, hurled at an object, the superior value which this flatness conferred upon it as a missile would be evident as well as the curved course which it would take through the air. The native, ever quick to note anything which might increase the power of his weapons, would be sure to notice this latter peculiarity, and to perceive the valuable uses to which it could be turned. He would therefore try various forms of flattened missiles, until he at last reached the true boomerang.

The strangest point about the boomerang is, that the curve is not uniform, and, in fact, scarcely any two specimens have precisely the same curve. Some have the curve so sharp that it almost deserves the name of angle, for an example of which see [fig. 8]; others, as in [fig. 9], have the curve very slight; while others, as in [fig. 2], have a tendency to a double curve, and there is a specimen in the British Museum in which the double curve is very boldly marked. The best and typical form of boomerang is, however, that which is shown at [fig. 3]. The specimen which is there represented was made on the banks of the river Darling.

The natives can do almost anything with the boomerang, and the circuitous course which it adopts is rendered its most useful characteristic. Many a hunter has wished that he only possessed that invaluable weapon, a gun which would shoot round a corner, and just such a weapon does the Australian find in his boomerang. If, for example, he should see a kangaroo in such a position that he cannot come within the range of a spear without showing himself and alarming the animal, or say, for example, that it is sheltered from a direct attack by the trunk of a tree, he will steal as near as he can without disturbing the animal, and then will throw his boomerang in such a manner that it circles round the tree, and strikes the animal at which it is aimed.

That such precision should be obtained with so curious a weapon seems rather remarkable, but those of my readers who are accustomed to play at bowls will call to mind the enormous power which is given to them by the “bias,” or weighted side of the bowl, and the bold curves which they can force the missile to execute, when they wish to send the bowl round a number of obstacles which are in its way. The boomerang is used as a sort of aërial bowl, with the advantage that the expert thrower is able to alter the bias at will, and to make the weapon describe almost any curve that he chooses.

It is even said that, in case there should be obstacles which prevent the boomerang from passing round the tree, the native has the power of throwing it so that it strikes the ground in front of the tree, and then, by the force of the throw, leaps over the top of the branches, and descends upon the object at which it is thrown.

On page 739 is shown a [scene] on the river Murray, in which the natives are drawn as they appear when catching the shag, a species of cormorant, which is found there in great numbers. They capture these birds in various ways, sometimes by climbing at night the trees on which they roost, and seizing them, getting severely bitten, by the way, on their naked limbs and bodies. They have also a very ingenious mode of planting sticks in the bed of the river, so that they project above the surface, and form convenient resting-places for the birds. Fatigued with diving, the cormorants are sure to perch upon them; and as they are dozing while digesting their meal of fish, the native swims gently up, and suddenly catches them by the wings, and drags them under water. He always breaks the neck of the bird at once.

They are so wonderfully skilful in the water, that when pelicans are swimming unsuspectingly on the surface, the natives approach silently, dive under them, seize the birds by the legs, jerk them under water, and break both the wings and legs so rapidly that the unfortunate birds have no chance of escape.

Sometimes, as shown in the [illustration], the natives use their boomerangs and clubs, knock the birds off the branches on which they are roosting, and secure them before they have recovered from the stunning blow of the weapon. When approaching cormorants and other aquatic birds, the native has a very ingenious plan of disguising himself. He gathers a bunch of weeds, ties it on his head, and slips quietly into the water, keeping his whole body immersed, and only allowing the artificial covering to be seen. The bird being quite accustomed to see patches of weeds floating along the water, takes no notice of so familiar an object, and so allows the disguised man to come within easy reach.

To return to the boomerang. The reader may readily have imagined that the manufacture of so remarkable an implement is not a very easy one. The various points which constitute the excellence of a boomerang are so light that there is scarcely an European who can see them, especially as the shape, size, and weight of the weapon differ so much according to the locality in which it was made. The native, when employed in making a boomerang, often spends many days over it, not only on account of the very imperfect tools which he possesses, but by reason of the minute care which is required in the manufacture of a good weapon.

Day after day he may be seen with the boomerang in his hand, chipping at it slowly and circumspectly, and becoming more and more careful as it approaches completion. When he has settled the curve, and nearly flattened it to its proper thickness, he scarcely makes three or four strokes without balancing the weapon in his hand, looking carefully along the edges, and making movements as if he were about to throw it. The last few chips seem to exercise a wonderful effect on the powers of the weapon, and about them the native is exceedingly fastidious.

Yet, with all this care, the weapon is a very rough one, and the marks of the flint axe are left without even an attempt to smooth them. In a well-used boomerang the projecting edges of the grooves made by various cuts and chips become quite polished by friction, while the sunken portion is left rough. In one fine specimen in my possession the manufacturer has taken a curious advantage of these grooves. Besides marking the handle end by covering it with cross-scorings as has already been described, he has filled the grooves with the red ochre of which the Australian is so fond, and for some eight inches the remains of the red paint are visible in almost every groove.

So delicate is the operation of boomerang making, that some men, natives though they be, cannot turn out a really good weapon, while others are celebrated for their skill, and can dispose of their weapons as fast as they make them. One of the native “kings” was a well-known boomerang maker, and his weapons were widely distributed among the natives, who knew his handiwork as an artist knows the touch of a celebrated painter. To this skill, and the comparative wealth which its exercise brought him, the king in question owed the principal part of his authority.

(1.) SPEARING THE KANGAROO.
(See [page 734].)

(2.) CATCHING THE CORMORANT.
(See [page 738].)

A fair idea of the size and weight of the boomerang may be gained by the measurements of the weapon which has just been mentioned. It is two feet nine inches long when measured with the curve, and two feet six inches from tip to tip. It is exactly two inches in width, only narrowing at the tips, and its weight is exactly eleven ounces. This, by the way, is a war boomerang, and is shaped like that which is shown in “Boomerangs” on page 731, [fig. 3]. Another specimen, which is of about the same weight, is shaped like that of [fig. 8]. It measures two feet five inches along the curve, two feet one inch from tip to tip, and is three inches in width in the middle, diminishing gradually toward the tips.

In order to enable them to ward off these various missiles, the natives are armed with a shield, which varies exceedingly in shape and dimensions, and, indeed, in some places is so unlike a shield, and apparently so inadequate to the office of protecting the body, that when strangers come to visit my collection I often have much difficulty in persuading them that such strange-looking objects can by any possibility be shields. As there is so great a variety in the shields, I have collected together a number of examples, which, I believe, comprise every form of shield used throughout Australia. Two of them are from specimens in my own collection, several from that of Colonel Lane Fox, others are drawn from examples in the British Museum, and the rest were sketched by Mr. Angas in the course of his travels through Australia.

As a general fact, the shield is very solid and heavy, and in some cases looks much more like a club with which a man can be knocked down, than a shield whereby he can be saved from a blow, several of them having sharp edges as if for the purpose of inflicting injury.

If the reader will look at the [row of shields] on page 742, he will see that [figs. 2 and 3] exhibit two views of the same shield. This is one of the commonest forms of the weapon, and is found throughout a considerable portion of Western Australia. It is cut out of a solid piece of the ever useful gum-tree, and is in consequence very hard and very heavy. As may be seen by reference to the illustration, the form of the shield is somewhat triangular, the face which forms the front of the weapon being slightly rounded, and the handle being formed by cutting through the edge on which the other two faces converge. The handle is very small, and could scarcely be used by an ordinary European, though it is amply wide enough for the small and delicate looking hand of the Australian native. My own is a small hand, but is yet too large to hold the Australian shield comfortably.

The reader will see that by this mode of forming the handle the wrist has great play, and can turn the shield from side to side with the slightest movement of the hand. This faculty is very useful, especially when the instrument is used for warding off the spear or the club, weapons which need only to be just turned aside in order to guide them away from the body.

One of these shields in my own collection is a very fine example of the instrument, and its dimensions will serve to guide the reader as to the usual form, size, and weight of an Australian shield. It measures exactly two feet seven inches in length, and is five inches wide at the middle, which is the broadest part. The width of the hole which receives the hand is three inches and three-eighths, and the weight of the shield is rather more than three pounds.

The extraordinary weight of the shield is needed in order to enable it to resist the shock of the boomerang, the force of which may be estimated by its weight, eleven ounces, multiplied by the force with which it is hurled. This terrible weapon cannot be merely turned aside, like the spear or the waddy, and often seems to receive an additional impulse from striking any object, as the reader may see by reference to [page 737], in which the mode of throwing the boomerang is described. A boomerang must be stopped, and not merely parried, and moreover, if it be not stopped properly, it twists round the shield, and with one of its revolving ends inflicts a wound on the careless warrior.

Even if it be met with the shield and stopped, it is apt to break, and the two halves to converge upon the body. The very fragments of the boomerang seem able to inflict almost as much injury as the entire weapon; and, in one of the skirmishes to which the natives are so addicted, a man was seen to fall to the ground with his body cut completely open by a broken boomerang.

It is in warding off the boomerang, therefore, that the chief skill of the Australian is shown. When he sees the weapon is pursuing a course which will bring it to him, he steps forward so as to meet it; and, as the boomerang clashes against the shield, he gives the latter a rapid turn with the wrist. If this manœuvre be properly executed, the boomerang breaks to pieces, and the fragments are struck apart by the movement of the shield.

Perhaps some of my readers may remember that “Dick-a-dick,” the very popular member of the Australian cricketers who came to England in 1868, among other exhibitions of his quickness of eye and hand, allowed himself to be pelted with cricket balls, at a distance of fifteen yards, having nothing wherewith to protect himself but the shield and the leowal, or angular club, the former being used to shield the body, and the latter to guard the legs. The force and accuracy with which a practised cricketer can throw the ball are familiar to all Englishmen, and it was really wonderful to see a man, with no clothes but a skin-tight elastic dress, with a piece of wood five inches wide in his left hand, and a club in his right, quietly stand against a positive rain of cricket-balls as long as any one liked to throw at him, and come out of the ordeal unscathed.

Not the least surprising part of the performance was the coolness with which he treated the whole affair, and the almost instinctive knowledge that he seemed to possess respecting the precise destination of each ball. If a ball went straight at his body or head, it was met and blocked by the shield; if it were hurled at his legs, the club knocked it aside. As to those which were sure not to hit him, he treated them with contemptuous indifference, just moving his head a little on one side to allow the ball to pass, which absolutely ruffled his hair as it shot by, or lifting one arm to allow a ball to pass between the limb and his body, or, if it were aimed but an inch wide of him, taking no notice of it whatever. The shield which he used with such skill was the same kind as that which has just been described, and was probably selected because its weight enabled it to block the balls without the hand that held it feeling the shock.

To all appearances, the natives expend much more labor upon the shield than upon the boomerang, the real reason, however, being that much ornament would injure the boomerang, but can have no injurious effect upon the shield. By reference to the [illustration], the reader will see that the face of the shield is covered with ornament, which, simple in principle, is elaborate in detail.

There is a specimen in my collection which is ornamented to a very great extent on its face, the sides and the handle being perfectly plain. It has a number of lines drawn transversely in bands, which, however, are seven instead of five in number. Each band is composed of three zigzag grooves, and each groove has been filled with red ochre. The space between is filled in with a double zigzag pattern, and the effect of all these lines, simple as they are, is perfectly artistic and consistent.

SHIELDS.

The pattern, by the way, is one that seems common to all savage races of men, wherever they may be found, and is to be seen on weapons made by the ancient races now long passed away, among the Kaffir tribes of South Africa, the cannibal tribes of Central Western Africa, the inhabitants of the various Polynesian islands, the savages of the extreme north and extreme south of America, and the natives of the great continent of Australia.

At [fig. 7] of the accompanying illustration may be seen a shield made of solid wood, in which the triangular form has been developed in a very curious manner into a quadrangular shape. The handle is made in the same manner as that of the former shield, i. e. by cutting through two of the faces of the triangle, while the front of the shield, instead of being a tolerably round face, is flattened out into a sharp edge. It is scarcely possible to imagine any instrument that looks less like a shield than does this curious weapon, which seems to have been made for the express purpose of presenting as small a surface as possible to the enemy.

The fact is, however, that the Southern Australian who uses these shields has not to defend himself against arrows, from which a man can only be defended by concealing his body behind shelter which is proof against them: he has only to guard against the spear and boomerang, and occasionally the missile club, all which weapons he can turn aside with the narrow shield that has been described.

One of these shields in my collection is two feet seven inches in length, rather more than six inches in width, and barely three inches thick in the middle. Its weight is just two pounds. Such a weapon seems much more like a club than a shield, and, indeed, if held by one end, its sharp edge might be used with great effect upon the head of an enemy. Like most Australian shields, it is covered with a pattern of the same character as that which has already been mentioned, and it has been so thoroughly painted with ochre that it is of a reddish mahogany color, and the real hue of the wood can only be seen by scraping off some of the stained surface. The name for this kind of shield is tamarang, and it is much used in dances, in which it is struck at regular intervals with the waddy.

In the British Museum is a shield which is much more solid than either of those which have been described. The manufacturer evidently found the labor of chipping the wood too much for him, and accordingly made much use of fire, forming his shield by alternate charring and scraping. The handle is rather curiously made by cutting two deep holes side by side in the back of the shield, the piece of wood between them being rounded into a handle. As is the case with most of the shields, the handle is a very small one. The face of the shield is much wider than either of those which have been noticed, and is very slightly rounded. It is ornamented with carved grooves, but rough usage has obliterated most of them, and the whole implement is as rough and unsightly an article as can well be imagined, in spite of the labor which has been bestowed upon it.

We now come to another class of shield, made of bark, and going by the title of Mulabakka. Shields in general are called by the name of Hieleman. Some of these bark shields are of considerable size, and are so wide in the middle that, when the owner crouches behind them, they protect the greater part of his body. As the comparatively thin material of which they are composed prevents the handle from being made by cutting into the shield itself, the native is obliged to make the handle separately, and fasten it to the shield by various methods.

The commonest mode of fixing the handle to a Mulabakka shield is seen at [figs. 4 and 5], on page 742, which exhibit the front and profile views of the same shield. Another Mulabakka is shown at [fig. 6]. The faces of all the Mulabakka shields are covered with ornamented patterns, mostly on the usual zigzag principle, but some having a pattern in which curves form the chief element.

CHAPTER LXXIII.
AUSTRALIA—Continued.

REAL WAR UNKNOWN TO THE AUSTRALIANS — FEUDS AND THE CAUSES OF THEM — A SAVAGE TOURNAMENT — VENGEANCE FOR DEATH — THE TROPHY OF VICTORY — AUSTRALIAN VENDETTA — FIRE-SIGNALS — DEATH OF TARMEENIA — ORDEAL OF BATTLE — CANNIBALISM AS AN ADJUNCT OF WAR — DANCES OF THE ABORIGINES — THE KURI DANCE AND ITS STRANGE ACCOMPANIMENTS — THE PALTI DANCE — THE CONCLUDING FIGURE — DANCE OF THE PARNKALLA TRIBE — ORDINARY CORROBBOREES — THE KANGAROO DANCE — TASMANIAN DANCE.

The mention of these various weapons naturally leads us to warfare; and that they are intended for that purpose the existence of the shields is a proof. Offensive weapons, such as the spear and the club, may be used merely for killing game; but the shield can only be employed to defend the body from the weapons of an enemy.

War, however, as we understand the word, is unknown among the Australians. They have not the intellect nor the organization for it, and so we have the curious fact of skilled warriors who never saw a battle. No single tribe is large enough to take one side in a real battle; and, even supposing it to possess sufficient numbers, there is no spirit of discipline by means of which a force could be gathered, kept together, or directed, even if it were assembled.

Yet, though real war is unknown, the Australian natives are continually fighting, and almost every tribe is at feud with its neighbor. The cause of quarrel with them is almost invariably the possession of some territory. By a sort of tacit arrangement, the various tribes have settled themselves in certain districts; and, although they are great wanderers, yet they consider themselves the rightful owners of their own district.

It mostly happens, however, that members of one tribe trespass on the district of another, especially if it be one in which game of any kind is plentiful. And sometimes, when a tribe has gone off on a travelling expedition, another tribe will settle themselves in the vacated district; so that, when the rightful owners of the soil return, there is sure to be a quarrel. The matter is usually settled by a skirmish, which bears some resemblance to the mêlée of ancient chivalry, and is conducted according to well-understood regulations.

The aggrieved tribe sends a challenge to the offenders, the challenger in question bearing a bunch of emu’s feathers tied on the top of a spear. At daybreak next morning the warriors array themselves for battle, painting their bodies in various colors, so as to make themselves look as much like demons, and as much unlike men as possible, laying aside all clothing, and arranging their various weapons for the fight.

Having placed themselves in battle array, at some little distance from each other, the opposite sides begin to revile each other in quite a Homeric manner, taunting their antagonists with cowardice and want of skill in their weapons, and boasting of the great deeds which they are about to do. When, by means of interposing these taunts with shouts and yells, dancing from one foot to the other, quivering and poising their spears, and other mechanical modes of exciting themselves, they have worked themselves up to the requisite pitch of fury, they begin to throw the spears, and the combat becomes general. Confused as it appears, it is, however, arranged with a sort of order. Each warrior selects his antagonist; so that the fight is, in fact, a series of duels rather than a battle, and the whole business bears a curious resemblance to the mode of fighting in the ancient days of Troy.

Generally the combatants stand in rather scattered lines, or, as we should say, in wide skirmishing order. The gestures with which they try to irritate their opponents are very curious, and often grotesque; the chief object being apparently to induce the antagonist to throw the first spear. Sometimes they stand with their feet very widely apart, and their knees straight, after the manner which will be seen in the illustrations of the native dances. While so standing, they communicate a peculiar quivering movement to the legs, and pretend to offer themselves as fair marks. Sometimes they turn their backs on their adversary, and challenge him to throw at them; or they drop on a hand and knee for the same purpose.

Mr. M’Gillivray remarked that two spearmen never throw at the same combatant: but, even with this advantage, the skill of the warrior is amply tested, and it is surprising to see how, by the mere inflection of the body, or the lifting a leg or arm, they avoid a spear which otherwise; must have wounded them. While the fight is going on, the women and children remain in the bush, watching the combat, and uttering a sort of wailing chant, rising and falling in regular cadence.

Sometimes the fight is a very bloody one, though the general rule is, that when one man is killed the battle ceases, the tribe to which the dead man belonged being considered as having been worsted. It might be thought that a battle conducted on such principles would be of very short duration; but the Australian warriors are so skilful in warding off the weapons of their antagonists that they often fight for a considerable time before a man is killed. It must be remembered, too, that the Australian natives can endure, without seeming to be much the worse for them, wounds which would kill an European at once. In such a skirmish, however, much blood is spilt, even though only one man be actually killed, for the barbed spears and sharp-edged boomerangs inflict terrible wounds, and often cripple the wounded man for life.

Other causes beside the quarrel for territory may originate a feud between two tribes. One of these cases is a very curious one. A woman had been bitten by a snake; but, as no blood flowed from the wound, it was thought that the snake was not a venomous one, and that there was no danger. However, the woman died in a few hours, and her death was the signal for a desperate war between two tribes. There seems to be but little connection between the two events, but according to Australian ideas the feud was a justifiable one.

The natives of the part of Australia where this event occurred have a curious idea concerning death. Should any one die without apparent cause, they think that the death is caused by a great bird called marralya, which comes secretly to the sick person, seizes him round the waist in his claws, and squeezes him to death. Now the marralya is not a real bird, but a magical one, being always a man belonging to a hostile tribe, who assumes the shape of the bird, and so finds an opportunity of doing an injury to the tribe with which he is at feud. Having made up his mind that the snake which bit the woman was not a venomous one, her husband could not of course be expected to change his opinion, and so it was agreed upon that one of a neighboring tribe with whom they were at feud must have become a marralya, and killed the woman. The usual challenge was the consequence, and from it came a series of bloody fights.

Like most savage nations, the Australians mutilate their fallen enemies. Instead, however, of cutting off the scalp, or other trophy, they open the body, tear out the fat about the kidneys, and rub it over their own bodies. So general is this custom, that to “take fat” is a common paraphrase for killing an enemy; and when two antagonists are opposed to each other, each is sure to boast that his antagonist shall furnish fat for him. As far as can be learned, they have an idea that this practice endues the victor with the courage of the slain man in addition to his own; and, as a reputation for being a warrior of prowess is the only distinction that a native Australian can achieve, it may be imagined that he is exceedingly anxious to secure such an aid to ambition.

Not from deliberate cruelty, but from the utter thoughtlessness and disregard of inflicting pain which characterizes all savages, the victorious warrior does not trouble himself to wait for the death of his enemy before taking his strange war trophy. Should the man be entirely disabled it is enough for the Australian, who turns him on his back, opens his body with the quartz knife which has already been described, tears out the coveted prize, and rubs himself with it until his whole body and limbs shine as if they were burnished. Oftentimes it has happened that a wounded man has been thus treated, and has been doomed to see his conqueror adorn himself before his eyes. Putting aside any previous injury, such a wound as this is necessarily mortal; but a man has been known to live for more than three days after receiving the injury, so wonderfully strong is the Australian constitution.

Sometimes these feuds spread very widely, and last for a very long time. Before the declaration of war, the opposing tribes refrain from attacking each other, but, after that declaration is once made, the greatest secrecy is often observed, and the warrior is valued the highest who contrives to kill his enemy without exposing himself to danger. Sometimes there is a sort of wild chivalry about the Australians, mingled with much that is savage and revolting. A remarkable instance of these traits is recorded by Mr. M’Gillivray.

An old man had gone on a short expedition in his canoe, while the men of his tribe were engaged in catching turtle. He was watched by a party belonging to a hostile tribe, who followed and speared him. Leaving their spears in the body to indicate their identity, they returned to shore, and made a great fire by way of a challenge. Seeing the signal, and knowing that a column of thick smoke is almost always meant as a challenge, the men left their turtling, and, on finding that the old man was missing, instituted a search after him. As soon as they discovered the body they lighted another fire to signify their acceptance of the challenge, and a party of them started off the same evening in order to inflict reprisals on the enemy.

They soon came upon some natives who belonged to the inimical tribe, but who had not been concerned in the murder, and managed to kill the whole party, consisting of four men, a woman, and a girl. They cut off the heads of their victims, and returned with great exultation, shouting and blowing conch-shells to announce their victory.

The heads were then cooked in an oven, and the eyes scooped out and eaten, together with portions of the cheeks. Only those who had been of the war-party were allowed to partake of this horrible feast. When it was over the victors began a dance, in which they worked themselves into a perfect frenzy, kicking the skulls over the ground, and indulging in all kinds of hideous antics. Afterward the skulls were hung up on two cross sticks near the camp, and allowed to remain there undisturbed.

Fire, by the way, is very largely used in making signals, which are understood all over the continent. A large fire, sending up a great column of smoke, is, as has already been mentioned, almost invariably a sign of defiance, and it is sometimes kindled daily until it is answered by another. If a man wishes to denote that he is in want of assistance, he lights a small fire, and, as soon as it sends up its little column of smoke, he extinguishes it suddenly by throwing earth on it. This is repeated until the required assistance arrives.

Some years ago, when the character and habits of the natives were not known so well as they are now, many of the settlers were murdered by the natives, simply through their system of fire-signalling. One or two natives, generally old men or women, as causing least suspicion, and being entirely unarmed, would approach the farm or camp, and hang about it for some days, asking for food, and cooking it at their own little fires.

The white men had no idea that every fire that was lighted was a signal that was perfectly well understood by a force of armed men that was hovering about them under cover of the woods, nor that the little puffs of smoke which occasionally arose in the distance were answers to the signals made by their treacherous guests. When the spies thought that their hosts were lulled into security, they made the battle-signal, and brought down the whole force upon the unsuspecting whites.

The Australians are wonderfully clever actors. How well they can act honesty and practise theft has already been mentioned. They have also a way of appearing to be unarmed, and yet having weapons ready to hand. They will come out of the bush, with green boughs in their hands as signs of peace, advance for some distance, and ostentatiously throw down their spears and other weapons. They then advance again, apparently unarmed, but each man trailing a spear along the ground by means of his toes. As soon as they are within spear range, they pick up their weapons with their toes, which are nearly as flexible and useful as fingers, hurl them, and then retreat to the spot where they had grounded their weapons.

The Australians have a tenacious memory for injuries, and never lose a chance of reprisal. In 1849, some men belonging to the Badulega tribe had been spending two months on a friendly visit to the natives of Múralug. One of their hosts had married an Itálega woman, and two of the brothers were staying with her. The Badulegas happened to remember that several years before one of their own tribe had been insulted by an Itálega. So they killed the woman, and tried to kill her brothers also, but only succeeded in murdering one of them. They started at once for their home, taking the heads as proof of their victory, and thought that they had done a great and praiseworthy action.

A similar affair took place among some of the tribes of Port Essington. A Monobar native had been captured when thieving, and was imprisoned. He attempted to escape, and in so doing was shot by the sentinel on duty. By rights his family ought to have executed reprisals on a white man; but they did not venture on such a step, and accordingly picked out a native who was on good terms with the white man, and killed him. The friends of the murdered man immediately answered by killing a Monobar, and so the feud went on. In each case the victim was murdered while sleeping, a number of natives quietly surrounding him, and, after spearing him, beating him with their waddies into a shapeless mass.

Should the cause of the feud be the unexplained death of a man or woman, the duty of vengeance belongs to the most formidable male warrior of the family. On such occasions he will solemnly accept the office, adorn himself with the red war-paint, select his best weapons, and promise publicly not to return until he has killed a male of the inimical tribe. How pertinaciously the Australian will adhere to his bloody purpose may be seen from an anecdote related by Mr. Lloyd.

He was startled one night by the furious barking of his dogs. On taking a lantern he found lying on the ground an old black named Tarmeenia, covered with wounds inflicted by spears, and boomerangs, and waddies. He told his story in the strange broken English used by the natives. The gist of the story was, that he and his son were living in a hut, and the son had gone out to snare a bird for his father, who was ill. Presently a “bungilcarney coolie,” i. e. an enemy from another tribe, entered the hut and demanded, “Why did your son kill my wife? I shall kill his father.” Whereupon he drove his spear into the old man’s side, and was beating him to death, when he was disturbed by the return of his son. The young man, a singularly powerful native, knowing that his father would be certainly murdered outright if he remained in the hut, actually carried him more than four miles to Mr. Lloyd’s house, put him down in the yard, and left him.

A hut was at once erected close to the house, and Tarmeenia was installed and attended to. He was very grateful, but was uneasy in his mind, begging that the constable might visit his hut in his nightly rounds, “’cos same bungilcarney coolie cum agin, and dis time too much kill ’im Tarmeenia.” The alarm of the old man seemed rather absurd, considering the position of the hut, but it was fully justified. About three weeks after Tarmeenia had been placed in the hut, Mr. Lloyd was aroused at daybreak by a servant, who said that the old black fellow had been burned to death. Dead he certainly was, and on examining the body two fresh wounds were seen, one by a spear just over the heart, and the other a deep cut in the loins, through which the “bungilcarney” had torn the trophy of war.

Occasionally a man who has offended against some native law has to engage in a kind of a mimic warfare, but without the advantage of having weapons. Mr. Lloyd mentions a curious example of such an ordeal.

“The only instance I ever witnessed of corporeal punishment being inflicted—evidently, too, by some legal process—was upon the person of a fine sleek young black, who, having finished his morning’s repast, rose in a dignified manner, and, casting his rug from his shoulders, strode with Mohican stoicism to the appointed spot, divested of his shield, waddy, or other means of defence. Nor, when once placed, did he utter one word, or move a muscle of his graceful and well-moulded person, but with folded arms and defiant attitude awaited the fatal ordeal.

“A few minutes only elapsed when two equally agile savages, each armed with two spears and a boomerang, marched with stately gait to within sixty yards of the culprit. One weapon after another was hurled at the victim savage, with apparently fatal precision, but his quick eye and wonderful activity set them all at defiance, with the exception of the very last cast of a boomerang, which, taking an unusual course, severed a piece of flesh from the shoulder-blade, equal in size to a crown-piece, as if sliced with a razor, and thus finished the affair.”

The lex talionis forms part of the Australian traditional law, and is sometimes exercised after a rather ludicrous fashion. A young man had committed some light offence, and was severely beaten by two natives, who broke his arm with a club, and laid his head open with a fishing spear. Considerable confusion took place, and at last the elders decided that the punishment was much in excess of the offence, and that, when the wounded man recovered, the two assailants were to offer their heads to him, so that he might strike them a certain number of blows with his waddy.

In the description of the intertribal feuds, it has been mentioned that the men who assisted in killing the victims of reprisal partook of the eyes and cheeks of the murdered person. This leads us to examine the question of cannibalism, inasmuch as some travellers have asserted that the Australians are cannibals and others denying such a propensity as strongly.

That the flesh of human beings is eaten by the Australians is an undeniable fact: but it must be remarked that such an act is often intended as a ceremonial, and not merely as a means of allaying hunger or gratifying the palate. It has been ascertained that some tribes who live along the Murray River have been known to kill and eat children, mixing their flesh with that of the dog. This, however, only occurs in seasons of great scarcity; and that the event was exceptional and not customary, is evident from the fact that a man was pointed out as having killed his children for food. Now it is plain, that, if cannibalism was the custom, such a man would not be sufficiently conspicuous to be specially mentioned. These tribes have a horrible custom of killing little boys for the sake of their fat, with which they bait fish-hooks.

Another example of cannibalism is described by Mr. Angas as occurring in New South Wales. A lad had died, and his body was taken by several young men, who proceeded to the following remarkable ceremonies. They began by removing the skin, together with the head, rolling it round a stake, and drying it over the fire. While this was being done, the parents, who had been uttering loud lamentations, took the flesh from the legs, cooked, and ate it. The remainder of the body was distributed among the friends of the deceased, who carried away their portions on the points of their spears; and the skin and bones were kept by the parents, and always carried about in their wallets.

It may seem strange that the mention of the weapons and mode of fighting should lead us naturally to the dances of the Australians. Such, however, is the case; for in most of their dances weapons of some sort are introduced. The first which will be mentioned is the Kuri dance, which was described to Mr. Angas by a friend who had frequently seen it, and is [illustrated] on the next page. This dance is performed by the natives of the Adelaide district. It seems to have one point in common with the cotillon of Europe, namely, that it can be varied, shortened, or lengthened, according to the caprice of the players; so that if a spectator see the Kuri dance performed six or seven times, he will never see the movements repeated in the same order. The following extract describes a single Kuri dance, and from it the reader may form his impressions of its general character:—

“But first the dramatis personæ must be introduced, and particularly described. The performers were divided into five distinct classes, the greater body comprising about twenty-five young men, including five or six boys, painted and decorated as follows: in nudity, except the yoodna which is made expressly for the occasion, with bunches of gum-leaves tied round the legs just above the knee, which, as they stamped about, made a loud switching noise. In their hands they held a katta or wirri, and some a few gum-leaves. The former were held at arm’s length, and struck alternately with their legs as they stamped. They were painted, from each shoulder down to the hips, with five or six white stripes, rising from the breast; their faces also, with white perpendicular lines, making the most hideous appearance. These were the dancers.

“Next came two groups of women, about five or six in number, standing on the right and left of the dancers, merely taking the part of supernumeraries; they were not painted, but had leaves in their hands, which they shook, and kept beating time with their feet during the whole performance, but never moved from the spot where they stood.

“Next followed two remarkable characters, painted and decorated like the dancers, but with the addition of the palyertatta—a singular ornament made of two pieces of stick put crosswise, and bound together by the mangna, in a spreading manner, having at the extremities feathers opened, so as to set it off to the best advantage. One had the palyertatta stick sideways upon his head, while the other, in the most wizard-like manner, kept waving it to and fro before him, corresponding with the action of his head and legs.

“Then followed a performer distinguished by a long spear, from the top of which a bunch of feathers hung suspended, and all down the spear the mangna was wound; he held the koonteroo (spear and feathers) with both hands behind his back, but occasionally altered the position, and waved it to the right and left over the dancers. And last came the singers—two elderly men in their usual habiliments; their musical instruments were the katta and wirri, on which they managed to beat a double note; their song was one unvaried, gabbling tone.

“The night was mild; the new moon shone with a faint light, casting a depth of shade over the earth, which gave a sombre appearance to the surrounding scene that highly conduced to enhance the effect of the approaching play. In the distance, a black mass could be discerned under the gum-trees, whence occasionally a shout and a burst of flame arose. These were the performers dressing for the dance, and no one approached them while thus occupied.

“Two men, closely wrapped in their opossum-skins, noiselessly approached one of the wurlies, where the Kuri was to be performed, and commenced clearing a space for the singers; this done, they went back to the singers, but soon after returned, sat down, and began a peculiar harsh and monotonous tune, keeping time with a katta and a wirri by rattling them together. All the natives of the different wurlies flocked round the singers, and sat down in the form of a horse-shoe, two or three rows deep.

“By this time the dancers had moved in a compact body to within a short distance of the spectators; after standing for a few minutes in perfect silence, they answered the singers by a singular deep shout simultaneously: twice this was done, and then the man with the koonteroo stepped out, his body leaning forward, and commenced with a regular stamp; the two men with the palyertattas followed, stamping with great regularity, the rest joining in: the regular and alternate stamp, the waving of the palyertatta to and fro, with the loud switching noise of the gum leaves, formed a scene highly characteristic of the Australian natives. In this style they approached the singers, the spectators every now and then shouting forth their applause. For some time they kept stamping in a body before the singers, which had an admirable effect, and did great credit to their dancing attainments; then one by one they turned round, and danced their way back to the place they first started from, and sat down. The palyertatta and koonteroo men were the last who left, and as these three singular beings stamped their way to the other dancers they made a very odd appearance.

(1.) THE KURI DANCE.
(See [page 748].)

(2.) PALTI DANCE, OR CORROBOREE.
(See [page 752].)

“The singing continued for a short time, and then pipes were lighted; shouts of applause ensued, and boisterous conversation followed. After resting about ten minutes, the singers commenced again; and soon after the dancers huddled together, and responded to the call by the peculiar shout already mentioned, and then performed the same feat over again—with this variation, that the palyertatta men brought up the rear, instead of leading the way. Four separate times these parts of the play were performed with the usual effect; then followed the concluding one, as follows: after tramping up to the singers, the man with the koonteroo commenced a part which called forth unbounded applause; with his head and body inclined on one side, his spear and feathers behind his back, standing on the left leg, he beat time with the right foot, twitching his body and eye, and stamping with the greatest precision; he remained a few minutes in this position, and then suddenly turned round, stood on his right leg, and did the same once with his left foot.

“In the mean while the two men with the mystic palyertatta kept waving their instruments to and fro, corresponding with the motions of their heads and legs, and the silent trampers performed their part equally well. The koonteroo man now suddenly stopped, and, planting his spear in the ground, stood in a stooping position behind it; two dancers stepped up, went through the same manœuvre as the preceding party with wonderful regularity, and then gave a final stamp, turned round, and grasped the spear in a stooping position, and so on with all the rest, until every dancer was brought to the spear, so forming a circular body.

“The palyertatta men now performed the same movement on each side of this body, accompanied with the perpetual motion of the head, leg, and arm, and then went round and round, and finally gave the arrival stamp, thrust in their arm, and grasped the spear: at the same time all sunk on their knees and began to move away in a mass from the singers, with a sort of grunting noise, while their bodies leaned and tossed to and fro; when they had got about ten or twelve yards they ceased, and, giving one long semi-grunt or groan (after the manner of the red kangaroo, as they say), dispersed.

“During the whole performance, the singing went on in one continued strain, and, after the last act of the performers, the rattling accompaniment of the singing ceased, the strain died gradually away, and shouts and acclamations rent the air.”

There are many other dances among the Australians. There is, for example, the Frog-dance. The performers paint themselves after the usual grotesque manner, hike their wirris in their hands, beat them together, and then squat down and jump after each other in circles, imitating the movements of the frog. Then there is the emu-dance, in which all the gestures consist of imitation of emu-hunting, the man who enacts the part of the bird imitating its voice.

In some parts of Australia they have the canoe dance, one of the most graceful of these performances.

Both men and women take part in this dance, painting their bodies with white and red ochre, and each furnished with a stick which represents the paddle. They begin to dance by stationing themselves in two lines, but with the stick across their backs and held by the arms, while they move their feet alternately to the tune of the song with which the dance is accompanied. At a given signal they all bring the sticks to the front, and hold them as they do paddles, swaying themselves in regular time as if they were paddling in one of their light canoes.

Another dance, the object of which is not very certain, is a great favorite with the Moorundi natives. The men, having previously decorated their bodies with stripes of red ochre, stand in a line, while the women are collected in a group and beat time together. The dance consists in stamping simultaneously with the left foot, and shaking the fingers of the extended arms. This dance is called Pedeku.

There is a rather curious dance, or movement, with which they often conclude the performance of the evening. They sit cross-legged round their fire, beating time with their spears and wirris. Suddenly they all stretch out their arms as if pointing to some distant object, rolling their eyes fearfully is they do so, and finish by leaping on their feet with a simultaneous yell that echoes for miles through the forest.

In his splendid work on South Australia, Mr. Angas describes a rather curious dance performed by the Parnkalla tribe, in which both sexes take part. Each man carries a belt made either of human hair or opossum fur, holding one end in each hand, and keeping the belt tightly strained. There is a slight variation in the mode of performing this dance, but the usual plan is for all the men to sit down, while a woman takes her place in the middle. One of the men then dances up to her, jumping from side to side, and swaying his arms in harmony with his movements. The woman begins jumping as her partner approaches, and then they dance back again, when their place is taken by a fresh couple.

Some persons have supposed that this dance is a religious ceremony, because it is usually held on clear moonlight evenings. Sometimes, however, it is performed during the day-time.

The commonest native dance, or “corrobboree,” is that which is known as the Palti, and which is [represented] on the 749th page. It is always danced by night, the fitful blaze of the fire being thought necessary to bring out all its beauties.

Before beginning this dance, the performers prepare themselves by decorating their bodies in some grotesque style with white and scarlet paints, which contrast boldly with the shining black of their skins. The favorite pattern is the skeleton, each rib being marked by a broad stripe of white paint, and a similar stripe running down the breast and along the legs and arms. The face is painted in a similar fashion. The effect produced by this strange pattern is a most startling one. Illuminated only by the light of the fire, the black bodies and limbs are scarcely visible against the dark background, so that, as the performers pass backward and forward in the movements of the dance, they look exactly like a number of skeletons endued with life by magic powers.

This effect is increased by the curious quivering of the legs, which are planted firmly on the ground, but to which the dancers are able to impart a rapid vibratory movement from the knees upward. The wirris, or clubs, are held in the hands, as seen in the [illustration], and at certain intervals they are brought over the head, and clashed violently together. The Palti, as well as the Kuri dance is conducted by a leader, who gives the word of command for the different movements. Some of the dancers increase their odd appearance by making a fillet from the front teeth of the kangaroo, and tying it round their foreheads.

Once in a year, the natives of some districts have a very grand dance, called the “cobbongo corrobboree,” or great mystery dance. This dance is performed by the natives of the far interior. An admirable account of this dance was published in the Illustrated London News of October 3, 1863, and is here given. “The time selected for this great event is every twelfth moon, and during her declination. For several days previous a number of tribes whose territories adjoin one another congregate at a particular spot, characterized by an immense mound of earth covered with ashes (known amongst the white inhabitants as ‘a black’s oven’) and surrounded by plenty of ‘couraway’ or water holes. To this place they bring numbers of kangaroos, ’possums, emus, and wild ducks, and a large quantity of wild honey, together with the grass from the seeds of which they make a sort of bread.

“Upon the evening on which the ‘corrobboree’ is celebrated, a number of old men (one from each tribe), called by the natives ‘wammaroogo,’ signifying medicine men or charm men, repair to the top of the mound, where, after lighting a fire, they walk round it, muttering sentences and throwing into it portions of old charms which they have worn round their necks for the past twelve months. This is continued for about half an hour, when they descend, each carrying a fire-stick, which he places at the outskirts of the camp, and which is supposed to prevent evil spirits approaching. As soon as this is over, during which a most profound silence is observed by all, the men of the tribe prepare their toilet for the ‘corrobboree,’ daubing themselves over with chalk, red ochre, and fat.

“While the men are thus engaged, the gentler sex are busy arranging themselves in a long line, and in a sitting posture, with rugs made of ’possum skins doubled round their legs, and a small stick called ‘nullà-nullà’ in each hand. A fire is lighted in front of them, and tended by one of the old charmers. As the men are ready, they seat themselves cross-legged like tailors, and in regular ‘serried file,’ at the opposite side of the fire to the women, while one of the medicine men takes up his position on the top of the mound to watch the rising of the moon, which is the signal for ‘corrobboree.’ All is now still; nothing disturbs the silence save the occasional jabber of a woman or child, and even that, after a few minutes, is hushed. The blaze of the fire throws a fitful light along the battalion-like front of the black phalanx, and the hideous faces, daubed with paint and smeared with grease, show out at such a moment to anything but advantage.

“As soon as the old gentleman who has been ‘taking the lunar’ announces the advent of that planet, which seems to exercise as great an influence over the actions of these people as over many of those amongst ourselves, the ‘corrobboree’ commences. The women beat the little sticks together, keeping time to a peculiar monotonous air, and repeating the words, the burden of which when translated may be—

“‘The kangaroo is swift, but swifter is Ngoyulloman;
The snake is cunning, but more cunning is Ngoyulloman,’ &c.,

each woman using the name of her husband or favorite in the tribe. The men spring to their feet with a yell that rings through the forest, and, brandishing their spears, boomerangs. &c., commence their dance, flinging themselves into all sorts of attitudes, howling, laughing, grinning, and singing; and this they continue till sheer exhaustion compels them to desist, after which they roast and eat the product of the chase, gathered for the occasion, and then drop off to sleep one by one.”

The reader will see that this great mystery “corrobboree” combines several of the peculiar movements which are to be found in the various dances that have already been described.

A dance of somewhat similar character used to be celebrated by the Tasmanians at the occasion of each full moon, as is described by Mr. G. T. Lloyd. The various tribes assembled at some trysting-place; and while the women prepared the fire, and fenced off a space for the dance, the men retired to adorn themselves with paint, and to fasten bunches of bushy twigs to their ankles, wrists, and waists.

The women being seated at the end of this space, one of the oldest among them strode forward, calling by name one of the performers, reviling him as a coward, and challenging him to appear and answer her charge. The warrior was not long in his response, and, bounding into the circle through the fire, he proclaimed his deeds of daring in war and in the hunt. At every pause he made, his female admirers took up his praises, vaunting his actions in a sort of chant, which they accompanied by extemporized drums formed of rolled kangaroo skins.

Suddenly, upon some inspiring allegretto movement of the thumping band, thirty or forty grim savages would bound successively through the furious flames into the sacred arena, looking like veritable demons on a special visit to terra firma, and, after thoroughly exhausting themselves by leaping in imitation of the kangaroo around and through the fire, they vanished in an instant. These were as rapidly succeeded by their lovely gins, who, at a given signal from the beldame speaker, rose en masse, and ranging themselves round the fresh-plied flames in a state unadorned and genuine as imported into the world, contorted their arms, legs, and bodies into attitudes that would shame first-class acrobats. The grand point, however, with each of the well-greased beauties was to scream down her sable sister.

This dance, as well as other native customs, has departed, together with the aborigines, from the island, and the native Tasmanians are now practically extinct. There is before me a photograph of the three remaining survivors of these tribes, which some sixty years ago numbered between six and seven thousand. That they should have so rapidly perished under the influence of the white man is explained from the fact that their island is but limited in extent, and that they are altogether inferior to the aborigines of the continent. They are small in stature, the men averaging only five feet three inches in height, and they are very ill-favored in countenance, the line from the nose to the corners of the mouth being very deep and much curved, so as to enclose the mouth in a pair of parentheses. The hair is cut very closely. This is done by means of two sharp-edged fragments of flint, broken glass being preferred since Europeans settled in the country. Cutting the hair is necessarily a tedious ceremony, only ten or twelve hairs being severed at a time, and upwards of three hours being consumed in trimming a head fit for a dance. Shaving is conducted after the same manner.

The general habits of the Tasmanian natives agree with those of the continent. The mode of climbing trees, however, is a curious mixture of the Australian and Polynesian custom. When the native discovers the marks of an opossum on the bark, he plucks a quantity of wire grass, and rapidly lays it up in a three-stranded plait, with which he encircles the tree and his own waist. By means of a single chop of the tomahawk he makes a slight notch in the bark, into which he puts his great toe, raises himself by it, and simultaneously jerks the grass band up the trunk of the tree. Notch after notch is thus made, and the native ascends with incredible rapidity, the notches never being less than three feet six inches apart.

Often, the opossum, alarmed at the sound of the tomahawk, leaves its nest, and runs along some bare bough, projecting horizontally from eighty to a hundred feet above the ground. The native walks along the bough upright and firm as if the tree were his native place, and shakes the animal into the midst of his companions who are assembled under the tree.

The natives never, in their wild state, wear clothes of any kind. They manufacture cloaks of opossum and kangaroo skins, but only in defence against cold. They are wonderful hunters, and have been successfully employed by the colonists in tracing sheep that had strayed, or the footsteps of the thief who had stolen them. The slightest scratch tell its tale to these quick-eyed people, who know at once the very time at which the impression was made, and, having once seen it, start off at a quick pace, and are certain to overtake the fugitive.

The untimely end of the aboriginal Tasmanians is greatly to be attributed to the conduct of a well-known chief, called Mosquito. He was a native of Sydney, and, having been convicted of several murders, was, by a mistaken act of lenity, transported to Tasmania, when he made acquaintance with the Oyster Bay tribe. Being much taller and stronger than the natives, he was unanimously elected chief, and took the command. His reign was most disastrous for the Tasmanians. He ruled them with a rod of iron, punishing the slightest disobedience with a blow of his tomahawk, not caring in the least whether the culprit were killed or not. He organized a series of depredations on the property of the colonists, and was peculiarly celebrated for his skill in stealing potatoes, teaching his followers to abstract them from the ridges, and to rearrange the ground so as to look as if it had never been disturbed, and to obliterate all traces of their footmarks with boughs.

Under the influence of such a leader, the natives became murderers as well as thieves, so that the lives of the colonists were always in peril. It was therefore necessary to take some decided measures with them; and after sundry unsuccessful expeditious, the natives at last submitted themselves, and the whole of them, numbering then (1837) scarcely more than three hundred, were removed to Flinder’s Island, where a number of comfortable stone cottages were built for them, infinitely superior to the rude bough huts or miam-miams of their own construction. They were liberally supplied with food, clothing, and other necessaries, as well as luxuries, and the Government even appointed a resident surgeon to attend them when ill. All this care was, however, useless. Contact with civilization produced its usual fruits, and in 1861 the native Tasmanians were only thirteen in number. Ten have since died, and it is not likely that the three who survived in 1867 will perpetuate their race.

That the singularly rapid decadence of the Tasmanians was partly caused by the conduct of the shepherds, and other rough and uneducated men in the service of the colonists, cannot be denied. But the white offenders were comparatively few, and quite unable themselves to effect such a change in so short a time. For the real cause we must look to the strange but unvariable laws of progression. Whenever a higher race occupies the same grounds as a lower, the latter perishes, and, whether in animate or inanimate nature, the new world is always built on the ruins of the old.

CHAPTER LXXIV.
AUSTRALIA—Continued.
DOMESTIC LIFE.

MARRIAGE — PURCHASE AND EXCHANGE OF WIVES — A ROUGH WOOING — TREATMENT OF THE WIVES — A BRUTAL HUSBAND — NARROW ESCAPE — A FAITHFUL COMPANION — AUSTRALIAN MOTHERS — TREATMENT OF THE NEW-BORN INFANT — PRACTICE OF INFANTICIDE — THE MOTHER AND HER DEAD CHILD.

We will now proceed to the domestic life of the native Australian, if, indeed, their mode of existence deserves such a name, and will begin with marriage customs.

Betrothal takes place at a very early age, the girl being often promised in marriage when she is a mere child, her future husband being perhaps an old man with two or three wives and a number of children. Of course the girl is purchased from her father, the price varying according to the means of the husband. Articles of European make are now exceedingly valued; and as a rule, a knife, a glass bottle, or some such article, is considered as a fair price for a wife.

Exchange is often practised, so that a young man who happens to have a sister to spare will look out for some man who has a daughter unbetrothed, and will effect an amicable exchange with him, so that a man who possesses sisters by his father’s death is as sure of a corresponding number of wives as if he had the means wherewith to buy them.

Until her intended husband takes her to wife, the betrothed girl lives with her parents, and during this interval she is not watched with the strictness which is generally exercised toward betrothed girls of savages. On the contrary, she is tacitly allowed to have as many lovers as she chooses, provided that a conventional amount of secrecy be observed, and her husband, when he marries her, makes no complaint. After marriage, however, the case is altered, and, if a former lover were to attempt a continuance of the acquaintance, the husband would avenge himself by visiting both parties with the severest punishment. There is no ceremony about marriage, the girl being simply taken to the hut of her husband, and thenceforth considered as his wife.

In some parts of Australia, when a young man takes a fancy to a girl he obtains her after a rather curious fashion, which seems a very odd mode of showing affection. Watching his opportunity when the girl has strayed apart from her friends, he stuns her with a blow on the head from his waddy, carries her off, and so makes her his wife. The father of the girl is naturally offended at the loss of his daughter, and complains to the elders. The result is almost invariably that the gallant offender is sentenced to stand the ordeal of spear and boomerang. Furnished with only his narrow shield, he stands still, while the aggrieved father and other relatives hurl a certain number of spears and boomerangs at him. It is very seldom that he allows himself to be touched, but, when the stipulated number of throws has been made, he is considered as having expiated his offence, whether he be hit or not.

Polygamy is of course practised, but to no very great extent. Still, although a man may never have more than two or three wives at a time, he has often married a considerable number, either discarding them, when they are too old to please his taste, or perhaps killing them in a fit of anger. The last is no uncommon mode of getting rid of a wife, and no one seems to think that her husband has acted cruelly. Indeed, the genuine native would not be able to comprehend the possibility of being cruel to his wife, inasmuch as he recognizes in her no right to kind treatment. She is as much his chattel as his spear or hut, and he would no more think himself cruel in beating his wife to death than in breaking the one or burning the other.

Since white men came to settle in the country the natives have learned to consider them as beings of another sphere, very powerful, but unfortunately possessed with some unaccountable prejudices. Finding, therefore, that breaking a wife’s limb with a club, piercing her with a spear, or any other mode of expressing dissatisfaction, shocked the prejudices of the white men, they ceased to mention such practices, though they did not discontinue them.

Quite recently, a native servant was late in keeping his appointment with his master, and, on inquiry, it was elicited that he had just quarrelled with one of his wives, and had speared her through the body. On being rebuked by his master he turned off the matter with a laugh, merely remarking that white men had only one wife, whereas he had two, and did not mind losing one until he could buy another.

Considering and treating the women as mere articles of property, the men naturally repose no confidence in them, and never condescend to make them acquainted with their plans. If they intend to make an attack upon another tribe, or to organize an expedition for robbery, they carefully conceal it from the weaker sex, thinking that such inferior animals cannot keep secrets, and might betray them to the objects of the intended attack.

The utter contempt which is felt by the native Australians for their women is well illustrated by an adventure which occurred after a dance which had been got up for the benefit of the white men, on the understanding that a certain amount of biscuit should be given to the dancers. When the performance was over, the biscuit was injudiciously handed to a woman for distribution. A misunderstanding at once took place. The men, although they would not hesitate to take away the biscuit by force, would not condescend to ask a woman for it, and therefore considered that the promised payment had not been made to them. Some of them, after muttering their discontent, slipped away for their spears and throwing-sticks, and the whole place was in a turmoil.

Fortunately, in order to amuse the natives, the white visitors, who had never thought of the offence that they had given, sent up a few rockets, which frightened the people for a time, and then burned a blue light. As the brilliant rays pierced the dark recesses of the forest, they disclosed numbers of armed men among the trees, some alone and others in groups, but all evidently watching the movements of the visitors whose conduct had so deeply insulted them. A friendly native saw their danger at once, and hurried them off to their boats, saying that spears would soon be thrown.

There was much excuse to be found for them. They had been subjected to one of the grossest insults that warriors could receive. To them, women were little better than dogs, and, if there were any food, the warriors first satisfied their own hunger, and then threw to the women any fragments that might be left. Therefore, that a woman—a mere household chattel—should be deputed to distribute food to warriors was a gross, intolerable, and, as they naturally thought, intentional insult. It was equivalent to degrading them from their rank as men and warriors, and making them even of less account than women. No wonder, then, that their anger was roused, and the only matter of surprise is that an attack was not immediately made. Australian warriors have their own ideas of chivalry, and, like the knights of old, feel themselves bound to resent the smallest aspersion cast upon their honor.

Mr. M’Gillivray, who narrates this anecdote makes a few remarks which are most valuable, as showing the errors which are too often committed when dealing with savages, not only those of Australia, but of other countries.

“I have alluded to this occurrence, trivial as it may appear, not without an object. It serves as an illustration of the policy of respecting the known customs of the Australian race, even in apparently trifling matters, at least during the early period of intercourse with a tribe, and shows how a little want of judgment in the director of our party caused the most friendly intentions to be misunderstood, and might have led to fatal results.

“I must confess that I should have considered any injury sustained on our side to have been most richly merited. Moreover, I am convinced that some at least of the collisions which have taken place in Australia between the first European visitors and the natives of any given district have originated in causes of offence brought on by the indiscretion of one or more of the party, and revenged on others who were innocent.”

Mr. M’Gillivray then proceeds to mention the well-known case of the night attack on Mr. Leichhardt’s expedition. For no apparent reason, a violent assault was made on the camp, and Mr. Gilbert was killed. The reason of this attack did not transpire until long afterward, when a native attached to the expedition divulged, in a state of intoxication, the fact that he and a fellow-countryman had grossly insulted a native woman.

Yet, in spite of this brutal treatment, the women often show a depth of affectionate feeling which raises them far above the brutal savages that enslave them. One remarkable instance of this feeling is mentioned by Mr. Bennett. She had formed an attachment to an escaped convict, who became a bushranger, and enabled him, by her industry and courage, to prolong the always precarious life of a bushranger beyond the ordinary limits.

The chief dangers that beset these ruffians are the necessity for procuring food, and the watch which is always kept by the police. Her native skill enabled her to supply him with food, and, while he was lying concealed, she used to fish, hunt, dig roots, and then to cook them for him. Her native quickness of eye and ear enabled her to detect the approach of the police, and, by the instinctive cunning with which these blacks are gifted, she repeatedly threw the pursuers off the scent. He was utterly unworthy of the affection which she bestowed on him, and used to beat her unmercifully, but, undeterred by his cruelty, she never flagged in her exertions for his welfare; and on one occasion, while he was actually engaged in ill-treating her, the police came upon his place of refuge, and must have captured him, had she not again misled them, and sent them to a spot far from the place where he was hidden. At last, he ventured out too boldly, during her accidental absence, was captured, tried and hanged. But up to the last this faithful creature never deserted him, and, even when he was imprisoned, she tried to follow him, but was reclaimed by her tribe.

When a native woman is about to become a mother she retires into the bush, sometimes alone, but generally accompanied by a female friend, and, owing to the strong constitution of these women, seldom remains in her retirement more than a day or so. Among the natives of Victoria, the ceremony attending the birth of a child is rather curious, and is amusingly described by Mr. Lloyd: “While upon the subject of the Australian aborigines, I must not omit to describe the very original modus operandi of the indigenous sage femme.

“The unhappy loobra (native woman) retired with her wise woman into some lone secluded dell, abounding with light sea-sand. A fire was kindled, and the wretched miam-miam speedily constructed. Then came the slender repast, comprising a spare morsel of kangaroo or other meat, supplied with a sparing hand by her stoical coolie (male native), grilled, and graced with the tendrils of green opiate cow-thistles, or the succulent roots of the bulbous leaf ‘mernong.’

“The sable attendant soon entered upon her interesting duties. One of the first was, to light a second fire over a quantity of prepared sand, that had been carefully divested of all fibrous roots, pebbles, or coarser matter. The burning coals and faggots were removed from thence, upon some nice calculation as to the period of the unfortunate little nigger’s arrival. When the miniature representative of his sable father beheld the light of day, a hole was scratched in the heated sand, and the wee russet-brown thing safely deposited therein, in a state of perfect nudity, and buried to the very chin, so effectually covered up as to render any objectionable movement on his or her part utterly impossible.

“So far as any infantine ebullitions of feeling are concerned, the learned sages femmes appeared to have a thorough knowledge as to the world-wide method of treating the mewling and puking importunities of unreasoning nurslings. They knew well that a two-hours’ sojourn in the desert sand, warm as it might be, would do much to cool the new comer, and temper it into compliance. At the expiration of that time, having acquired so much knowledge of earthly troubles, the well-baked juvenile was considered to be thoroughly done, and thereupon introduced to his delighted loobra mamma.”

Following the custom of many savage nations, the Australians too often destroy their children in their first infancy. Among the Muralug tribes the practice is very common. It has already been mentioned that the girls live very unrestrainedly before marriage, and the result is, that a young woman will sometimes have several children before her marriage. As a general rule, these children are at once killed, unless the father be desirous of preserving them. This, however, is seldom the case, and he usually gives the order “Márana teio,” i. e. Throw it into the hole, when the poor little thing is at once buried alive. Even those children which are born after marriage are not always preserved. In the first place, a woman will scarcely ever take charge of more than three children, and many a female child is destroyed where a male would be allowed to live.

All children who have any bodily defect are sure to be killed, and, as a general rule, half-caste children are seldom allowed to live. The mothers are usually ashamed to acknowledge these murders, but in one case the unnatural parent openly avowed the deed, saying that the infant was like a waragul, i. e. the native dog or dingo. The fact was that its father was a sailor who had fiery red hair, and his offspring partook of the same rufous complexion. Of course there are exceptions to the rule, one of which may be found in the case of the poor woman who was so faithful to her convict mate. She had a male child, which was brought up by the tribe to which she belonged, and they were so fond of him that they refused to give him up when some benevolent persons tried to obtain possession of him in order to educate him in civilization.

If, however, the child is allowed to live, the Australian mother is a very affectionate one, tending her offspring with the greatest care, and in her own wild way being as loving a parent as can be found in any part of the world. The [engraving No. 2], on the next page, illustrates this devotion of Australian mothers to their children.

In nothing is this affection better shown than in the case of a child’s death. Although she might have consigned it when an infant to a living grave without a pang of remorse, yet, when it dies after having been nurtured by her, she exhibits a steady sorrow that exhibits the depth of affection with which she regarded the child. When it dies, she swathes the body in many wrappers, places it in her net-bul, or native wallet, and carries it about with her as if it were alive. She never parts with it for a moment. When she eats she offers food to the dead corpse, as if it were still alive, and when she lies down to sleep, she lays her head upon the wallet, which serves her as a pillow. The progress of decay has no effect upon her, and though the body becomes so offensive that no one can come near her, she seems unconscious of it, and never dreams of abandoning the dreadful burden. In process of time nothing is left but the mere bones, but even these are tended in the same loving manner, and even after the lapse of years the mother has been known to bear, in addition to her other burdens, the remains of her dead child. Even when the child has been from six to seven years old she will treat it in the same manner, and, with this burden on her back, will continue to discharge her heavy domestic duties.

(1.) AN AUSTRALIAN FEAST.
(See [page 763].)

(2.) AUSTRALIAN MOTHERS.
(See [page 758].)

CHAPTER LXXV.
AUSTRALIA—Continued.
FROM CHILDHOOD TO MANHOOD.

AUSTRALIAN CHILDREN — CEREMONIES ATTENDANT ON BECOMING MEN — ADMISSION TO THE RANK OF HUNTER — CEREMONY OF THE KANGAROO — THE KORADJEES AND THEIR DUTIES — KNOCKING OUT THE TOOTH — TRIAL BY ENDURANCE — TEST OF DETERMINATION — THE MAGIC CRYSTAL — THE FINAL FEAST — INITIATION AMONG THE MOORUNDI AND PARNKALLA TRIBE — THE WITARNA, AND ITS DREADED SOUND — THE WHISPERERS — TAKING THE SECOND DEGREE — THE APRON AND HEAD-NET — THE THIRD AND LAST CEREMONY — ENDURANCE OF PAIN — A NAUO MAN — STORY OF GI’ÔM — MAKING KOTAIGA OR BROTHERHOOD.

Australian children, while they remain children, and as such are under the dominion of their mothers, are rather engaging little creatures. They cannot be called pretty, partly owing to the total neglect, or rather ignorance, of personal cleanliness, and partly on account of the diet with which they are fed. Their eyes are soft, and possess the half-wistful, half-wild expression that so peculiarly distinguishes the young savage. But they are never washed except by accident, their profuse black hair wanders in unkempt masses over their heads, and their stomachs protrude exactly like those of the young African savage.

In process of time they lose all these characteristics. The wistful expression dies out of their eyes, while the restless, suspicious glance of the savage takes its place. They become quarrelsome, headstrong, and insubordinate, and, after exhibiting these qualifications for a higher rank in life, they become candidates for admission into the rights and privileges of manhood. Among civilized nations, attaining legal majority is a simple process enough, merely consisting of waiting until the candidate is old enough; but with many savage nations, and specially with the Australians, the process of becoming men is a long, intricate, and singularly painful series of ceremonies.

These rites vary according to the locality in which they are celebrated, but they all agree in one point, namely,—in causing very severe pain to the initiates, and testing to the utmost their endurance of pain. As many of these rites are almost identical in different tribes, I shall not repeat any of them, but only mention those points in which the ceremonies differ from each other.

One of these customs, which seems to belong to almost every variety of savage life, namely, the loss of certain teeth, flourishes among the Australians. The mode of extracting the teeth is simple enough. The men who conduct the ceremony pretend to be very ill, swoon, and writhe on the ground, and are treated after the usual method of healing the sick, i. e. their friends make a howling and shouting, dance round and hit them on the back, until each sick man produces a piece of sharp bone.

This ceremony being intended to give the initiates power over the various animals, a series of appropriate ceremonies are performed. On the morning after the sharp bones have been mysteriously produced, the Koradjees, or operators, dress themselves up with bits of fur and other decorations, which are conventionally accepted as representing the dingo, or native dog. The wooden sword, which is thrust into a belt, sticks up over the back, and takes the place of the tail. The boys are then made to sit on the ground, while the koradjees run round and round them on all fours, thus representing dogs, and giving the lads to understand that the succeeding ceremony will give them power over dogs. In token of this power, each time that they pass the boys they throw sand and dust over them.

Here it must be remarked that the Australian natives are great dog-fanciers, the dog being to them what the pig is to the Sandwich Islanders. There is scarcely a lad who does not possess at least one dog, and many have several, of which they take charge from earliest puppyhood, and which accompany their masters wherever they go. Besides their value as companions, these dogs are useful for another reason. They are a safeguard against famine; for when a man is in danger of starving, he is sure to rescue himself by killing and cooking his faithful dog. The animal has never cost him any trouble. It forages for itself as it best can, and always adheres to its owner, and is always at hand when wanted. The object, therefore, of the first part of the ceremony is to intimate to the lads that they are not only to have dominion over the dogs, but that they ought to possess its excellent qualities.

The next part of the ceremony is intended to give them power over the kangaroos.

Accordingly, a stout native now appears on the scene, bearing on his shoulders the rude effigy of a kangaroo, made of grass; and after him walks another man with a load of brushwood. The men move with measured steps, in time to the strokes of clubs upon shields, wherewith the spectators accompany the songs which they sing. At the end of the dance, the men lay their burdens at the feet of the youths, the grass effigy signifying the kangaroo, and the brushwood being accepted as a sign of its haunts.

The koradjees now take upon themselves the character of the kangaroo, as they formerly personated the dog. They make long ropes of grass in imitation of the kangaroo’s tail, and fasten them at the back of their girdles. They then imitate the various movements of the kangaroo, such as leaping, feeding, rising on their feet and looking about them, or lying down on their sides and scratching themselves, as kangaroos do when basking in the sun. As they go through these performances, several men enact the part of hunters, and follow them with their spears, pretending to steal upon them unobserved, and so to kill them.

After a few more ceremonies, the men lie on the ground, and the boys are led over their prostrate bodies, the men groaning and writhing, and pretending to suffer horrible agony from the contact with uninitiates. At last the boys are drawn up in a row, and opposite to them stands the principal koradjee, holding his shield and waddy, with which he keeps up a series of regular strokes, the whole party poising their spears at him, and at every third stroke touching his shield.

The operators now proceed to the actual removal of the tooth. The initiates are placed on the shoulders of men seated on the ground, and the operator then lances the gums freely with the sharp bone. One end of a wummerah, or throw-stick, is next placed on the tooth, and a sharp blow is struck with the stone, knocking out the tooth, and often a piece of gum also if the lancing has not been properly done.

Among another tribe, the initiate is seated opposite a tree. A stick is then placed against the trunk of the tree, with its other end resting on the tooth. The operator suddenly pushes the lad’s head forward, when, as a matter of course, the tooth comes out. The blood is allowed to flow over the spot, and, as it is a sign of manhood, is never washed off.

The tooth being finally extracted, the boy is led to a distance, and his friends press the wounded gum together, and dress him in the emblems of his rank as a man. The opossum fur belt, or kumeel, is fastened round his waist, and in it is thrust the wooden sword, which he, as a warrior, is now expected to use. A bandage is tied round his forehead, in which are stuck a number of grass-tree leaves; his left hand is placed over his mouth, and for the rest of the day he is not allowed to eat.

In some parts of the country there is a curious addition to the mere loss of the tooth. The warriors stand over the lad, exhorting him to patience, and threatening him with instant death if he should flinch, cry out, or show any signs of pain. The operators then deliberately cut long gashes all down his back, and others upon his shoulders. Should he groan, or display any symptoms of suffering, the operators give three long and piercing yells, as a sign that the youth is unworthy to be a warrior. The women are summoned, and the recreant is handed over to them, ever after to be ranked with the women, and share in their menial and despised tasks.

Even after passing the bodily ordeal, he has to undergo a mental trial. There is a certain mysterious piece of crystal to which various magic powers are attributed, and which is only allowed to be seen by men, who wear it in their hair, tied up in a little packet. This crystal, and the use to which it is put, will be described when we come to treat of medicine among the Australians.

The youth having been formally admitted as a huntsman, another ring is formed round him, in order to see whether his firmness of mind corresponds with his endurance of body. Into the hands of the maimed and bleeding candidate the mysterious crystal is placed. As soon as he has taken it, the old men endeavor by all their arts to persuade him to give it up again. Should he be weak-minded enough to yield, he is rejected as a warrior; and not until he has successfully resisted all their threats and cajoleries is he finally admitted into the rank of men.

The ceremony being over, a piercing yell is set up as a signal for the women to return to the camp, and the newly-admitted man follows them, accompanied by their friends, all chanting a song of joy, called the korinda braia. They then separate to their respective fires, where they hold great feastings and rejoicings (see [engraving No. 1], page 759); and the ceremonies are concluded with the dances in which the Australians so much delight.

As may be gathered from the account of these ceremonies, the lad who is admitted into the society of hunters thinks very much of himself, and addresses himself to the largest game of Australia; namely, the emu and the dingo. When he has succeeded in killing either of these creatures, he makes a trophy, which he carries about for some time, as a proof that he is doing credit to his profession. This trophy consists of a stick, a yard or so in length, to one end of which is tied the tail of the first dingo he kills, or a huge tuft of feathers from the first emu. These trophies he displays everywhere, and is as proud of them as an English lad of his first brush, or of his first pheasant’s tail.

Among the Moorundi natives, who live on the great Murray River, another ceremony is practised. When the lads are about sixteen years old, and begin to grow the beard and moustache which become so luxuriant in their after-life, preparations are quietly made by sending for some men from a friendly tribe, who are called, from their office, the weearoos, or pluckers. When they have arrived, the lads who have been selected are suddenly pounced upon by some one of their own tribe, and conducted to the place of initiation, which is marked by two spears set in the ground, inclining to each other, and being decorated with bunches of emu feathers. They are then smeared over with red ochre and grease, and the women flock round them, crying bitterly, and cutting their own legs with mussel-shells, until they inflict horrible gashes, and cause the blood to flow abundantly. In fact, a stranger would think that the women, and not the lads, were the initiates.

The boys lie down, with their heads to the spears, surrounded by their anxious friends, who watch them attentively to see if they display any indications of flinching from pain. The weearoos now advance, and pluck off every hair from their bodies, thus causing a long and irritating torture. When they have endured this process, green branches are produced, and fastened to the bodies of the lads, one being worn as an apron, and the others under the arms. Two kangaroo teeth are then fastened in the hair, and the young men, as they are now termed, are entitled to wear a bunch of emu feathers in their hair.

With another tribe there is a curious variation. The initiate is brought to the selected spot by an old man, and laid on his back in the midst of five fires, each fire consisting of three pieces of wood laid across each other so as to form a triangle. An opossum-skin bag is laid on his face, and the various operations are then performed.

Among the Parnkallas, and other western tribes, there are no less than three distinct ceremonies before the boys are acknowledged as men.

The first ceremony is a very simple one. When the boys are twelve or fifteen years old, they are carried away from the women, and are blindfolded. The operators then begin to shout the words “Herri, herri” with the full force of their lungs, swinging at the same time the mysterious instrument called the witarna.

This mysterious implement is a small shuttle-shaped piece of wood, covered with carved ornaments, and being suspended, by a hole cut at one end, from a string made of plaited human hair. When swung rapidly in the air, it makes a loud humming or booming sound. The witarna is kept by the old men of the tribe, and is invested with sundry and somewhat contradictory attributes. Its sound is supposed to drive away evil spirits, and at the same time to be very injurious to women and children, no uninitiated being allowed to hear it. Consequently the women are horribly afraid of it, and take care to remove themselves and their children so far from the place of initiation that there is no chance of being reached by the dreaded sound.

When the witarna has been duly swung, and the blindfolded boys have for the first time heard its booming sound, the operators advance, and blacken the faces of the boys, ordering them at the same time to cease from using their natural voices, and not to speak above a whisper until they are released from their bondage. They remain whisperers for several months, and, when they resume their voices, assume the title of warrara.

They remain in the condition of warrara for at least two, and sometimes three years, when they undergo a ceremony resembling the circumcision of the Jews. Their hair is tied in a bunch on the top of the head, is not allowed to be cut, and is secured by a net.

The net used for this purpose is made out of the tendons drawn from the tails of kangaroos. When they kill one of these animals, the natives always reserve the tendons, dry them carefully in the sun, and keep them in reserve for the many uses to which they are put. The sinews taken from the leg of the emu are dried and prepared in the same manner. In order to convert the sinew into thread, two of the fibres are taken and rolled upon the thigh, just as is done with the fibre of the bulrush root. A thread of many yards long is thus spun, and is formed into a net with meshes made exactly after the European fashion. Sometimes it is left plain, but usually it is colored with red ochre, or white with pipe-clay, according to the taste of the wearer. These tendons, by the way, are valued by the white colonists, who use them chiefly for whip-lashes, and say that the tendon is more durable than any other material.

The initiates of the second degree are also distinguished by wearing a bell-shaped apron, made of opossum fur spun together, and called “mabbirringe.” This is worn until the third and last ceremony. The young men are now distinguished by the name of Partnapas, and are permitted to marry, though they are not as yet considered as belonging to the caste, if we may so call it, of warriors.

Even now, the young men have not suffered sufficient pain to take their full rank, and in course of time a ceremony takes place in which they become, so to speak, different beings, and change, not only their appearance, but their names. Up to this time, they have borne the names given to them by their mothers in childhood, names which are always of a trivial character, and which are mostly numerical. For example, if the first child be a boy, it is called Peri (i. e. Primus); if a girl, Kartanya (i. e. Prima). The second boy is Wari (or Secundus), the second girl Waruyau, and so on. Sometimes the name is taken from the place where the child was born, or from some accidental circumstance, such as the appearance of a bird or insect, or the falling of a shower of rain. But, when the youth becomes a man, he puts away this childish name, and chooses another for himself, which marks him out as a man and a warrior. The process of converting a lad into a man is admirably told by Mr. G. F. Angas:—

“In the third and last ceremony the young men are styled Wilyalkanye, when the most important rites take place. Each individual has a sponsor chosen for him, who is laid on his back upon another man’s lap, and surrounded by the operators, who enjoin him to discharge his duties aright. The young men are then led away from the camp, and blindfolded; the women lamenting and crying, and pretending to object to their removal.

“They are taken to a retired spot, laid upon their stomachs, and entirely covered over with kangaroo skins; the men uttering the most dismal wail imaginable, at intervals of from three to five minutes. After lying thus for some time, the lads are raised, and, whilst still blindfolded, two men throw green boughs at them, while the others stand in a semicircle around, making a noise with their wirris and voices combined, which is so horrible that the wild dogs swell the hideous chorus with their howlings. Suddenly one of the party drops a bough, others follow; and a platform of boughs is made, on which the lads are laid out. The sponsors then turn to and sharpen their pieces of quartz, choosing a new name for each lad, which is retained by him during life. These names all end either in alta, ilti, or ulta. Previous to this day they have borne the names of their birth-places, &c.; which is always the case amongst the women, who never change them afterward. The sponsors now open the veins of their own arms, and, raising the lads, open their mouths, and make them swallow the first quantity of blood.

“The lads are then placed on their hands and knees, and the blood caused to run over their backs, so as to form one coagulated mass; and when this is sufficiently cohesive, one man marks the places for the tattooing by removing the blood with his thumb nail. The sponsor now commences with his quartz, forming a deep incision in the nape of the neck, and then cutting broad gashes from the shoulder to the hip down each side, about an inch apart. These gashes are pulled open by the fingers as far as possible; the men all the while repeating very rapidly, in a low voice, the following incantation:—

“‘Kanya, marra, marra,
Kano, marra, marra,
Pilbirri, marra, marra.’

When the cutting is over, two men take the witarnas, and swing them rapidly round their heads, advancing all the time toward the young men. The whole body of operators now draw round them, singing and beating their wirris, and, as they reach the lads, each man puts the string of the witarna over the neck of every lad in succession. A bunch of green leaves is tied round the waist, above which is a girdle of human hair; a tight string is fastened round each arm just above the elbow, with another about the neck, which descends down the back, and is fixed to the girdle of hair; and their faces and the upper part of their bodies, as far as the waist, are blackened with charcoal.

“The ceremony concludes by the men all clustering round the initiated ones, enjoining them again to whisper for some months, and bestowing upon them their advice as regards hunting, fighting and contempt of pain. All these ceremonies are carefully kept from the sight of the women and children; who, when they hear the sound of the witarna, hide their heads, and exhibit every outward sign of terror.”

(1.) MINTALTA, A NAUO MAN.
(See [page 764].)

(2.) YOUNG MAN AND BOY. (South Australia.)
(See page 771.)

(3.) SMALL STONE HUT FOR CURE OF DISEASE.
(See p. 771.)

(4.) TOMB OF SKULLS. (Cape York.)
(See page 773.)

The [illustration No. 1], on page 765, is given in order to show the curious appearance which is sometimes presented by the men when they have successfully passed through their various ordeals. The name of the man was Mintalta, and he belonged to the Nauo tribe, which lives near Coffin’s Bay. In his hand he holds the waddy, and, by way of apron, he wears a bunch of emu feathers. Across his breast are seen the bold ridges which mark his rank as a man, and others are seen upon his arms. His beard is gathered into a long pointed tuft, and decorated with a little bunch of white cockatoo feathers at the tip. In his hair he wears two curious ornaments. These are not feather plumes, as they seem to be in the illustration, but are simply slender sticks of white wood, scraped so as to let the shavings adhere by one end. Indeed, they are made exactly like those little wooden brooms that are sometimes hawked by German girls about the streets, or, to use a more familiar simile, like the curly-branched trees in children’s toy-boxes.

Many of the particulars which have been and will be related of the domestic life of the Australians were obtained in a very curious manner. In the autumn of 1849 some persons belonging to H.M.S. Rattlesnake were out shooting, when they came across a native woman, or gin, dressed rather better than the generality of native women, as she wore a narrow apron of leaves. To their astonishment, the supposed gin addressed them in English, saying that she was a white woman, and desired their help. They immediately furnished her with some clothing, and brought her on board the Rattlesnake, where she contrived to make known her sad story. Her name was Thomson, and she was the widow of the owner of a small vessel. Cruising one day in search of a wreck, the pilot missed his way, a gale of wind came on, and the vessel was dashed on a reef on the Eastern Prince of Wales Island. The men tried to swim on shore through the surf, but were drowned, while the woman was saved by a party of natives, who came on board the wreck after the gale had subsided, and took her ashore.

The tribe into whose hands she had fallen was the Kowrárega, which inhabits Muralug, on the Western Prince of Wales Island. When she got ashore, one of the principal men, who fully held the popular idea that the white men are the ghosts of dead natives, recognized in Mrs. Thomson a daughter named Gi’ôm, who had long ago died. He accordingly took her home as his daughter, she was acknowledged by the tribe as one of themselves, and was forced to become the wife of one of the natives, called Boroto.

For nearly five years she was kept prisoner by the blacks, and, although she could see many English ships pass within a few miles, she was so closely watched that escape was hopeless. At last, when the smoke signals told the tribe that another vessel was approaching, Gi’ôm cleverly worked on the cupidity of the aborigines, and persuaded them to take her to the mainland, promising them to procure plenty of axes, knives, tobacco, and other things which an Australian savage values above all things, and saying that she had lived so long with the natives that she could not think of leaving them. When she was safely lodged on board, many of her friends came to see her, bringing presents of fish and turtle, but always expecting an equivalent. Boroto was one of the visitors, and in vain tried to persuade her to return. When she definitely refused, he became very angry, and left the ship in a passion, declaring that, if he or any of his friends could catch her ashore, they would take off her head and carry it to Muralug. Not feeling the least doubt that the threat would be fulfilled, she never ventured on shore near those parts of the coast which the Kowráregas seemed likely to visit.

Being a woman of no education, she had in the course of her sojourn among the natives almost forgotten how to express herself in her native tongue, and for some time mixed Kowrárega words and phrases with English in a very curious manner. A vast amount of valuable information was obtained from her, but when she was restored to civilization, she forgot the language and customs of savage life with singular rapidity, her untrained mind being unable to comprehend the mutual relationship of ideas, and utterly incapable of generalization.

From her was learned the curious but dreadful fact that many of the really unprovoked assaults on ships’ crews while unsuspectingly visiting the shore were instigated by white men, who had degraded themselves into companionship with native tribes, and, by reason of their superior knowledge, had gained a supremacy over them. One of these men had lived with the Badu tribe many years, and, having heard of a white woman among the Kowráregas, visited Muralug, and tried to induce Gi’ôm to leave Boroto and share his fortunes. Who he was is not known. He goes by the name of Wini, and is supposed to be an escaped convict, who repels the visits of English ships, lest he should be captured and sent back to prison. By means of his instigations, the Badu people became so violently opposed to all white men that any European who visited that part of the country would do so at the imminent hazard of his life.

Among many of these tribes, there is a custom which is common also to many savages in all parts of the world. This is the custom of making “kotaiga,” or brotherhood, with strangers. When Europeans visit their districts, and behave as they ought to do, the natives generally unite themselves in bonds of fellowship with the strangers, each selecting one of them as his kotaiga. The new relations are then considered as having mutual responsibilities, each being bound to forward the welfare of the other.

The memory of the natives is wonderful, and, even if a ship does not repeat a visit until after a lapse of several years, no sooner does she arrive than the natives swarm on board, and at once pick out their kotaigas. They bring presents to their guests while on board; they accompany them joyfully to the shore; they carry their bags and haversacks for them; they take them on hunting, shooting, and fishing excursions, point out the game, retrieve it, no matter where it may have fallen, and carry it home on their shoulders rejoicing. Of course they expect biscuit and tobacco in return for their kind offices, but the wages are very cheap, and their services are simply invaluable. The rescue of Mr. M’Gillivray and his party from the threatened attack of the natives was owing to the fact that one of them, the friendly native who gave him warning, and saw him and his party safely off in their boats, was his kotaiga, and bound in honor to save him.