UNTUTORED MAN.

Strange and unique as are the plants and animals of Australia, yet nothing definite can be affirmed of its native human inhabitants. They are a peculiar people, separated by a wide remove from the Papuans, the Malays and the Negro. Of a dark, coffee-brown complexion, rather than actually black, the Australian is but little inferior to the average European in height, but is altogether of a much slimmer and feebler build, his limbs, particularly, being very lean and destitute of calves, a defect which is a peculiarity of the darker races of man. His head is long and narrow, dolichocephalic in type, with a low brow, prominent just above the orbital regions, but receding thence in a very marked degree. The nose, proceeding from a comparatively narrow base, broadens outwardly to a somewhat squat end, the eyes on each side of its attenuated root appearing drawn together. His face bulges into high cheek bones; his mouth is large and grotesque, the jaw-bone contracted, the upper jaw projecting over the lower, but with fine, white teeth; the chin cut away, and his ears slightly pricked forward. Not only the head and face, but the entire body as well, is covered with a profusion of hair, which, when freed of its enclogging dirt and oil, is soft and glossy. Like most savage peoples, the effluvium of his skin, offensive as it naturally is, is very much exaggerated by the fish-oil he uses in the anointment of his person.

Almost exclusively directed on the means of procuring sustenance, the intellect of the Australian operates wholly within the range of the rudest bodily senses. But inside that simple, elementary sphere he displays no little nimbleness and dexterity. In tracking and running down his prey he is unsurpassed. His weapons, though of the most primitive forms, are well adapted for the purposes of the chase. Rude and uncouth as his culinary and domestic apparatus appear, yet they serve equally well the objects for which they were designed. Some imitative facility, or rude sense of elementary art, is possessed by him, as is evidenced by the crude figures of sharks, lizards and other animals that may be seen carved in caves in the north-east of Australia, and on the rocks of New South Wales. That he has some exuberance of rude sense is still further shown in his language, which, within its very circumscribed sensuous sphere, is fairly expressive and complete, and likewise in the ease with which he learns to chatter the languages of peoples with whom he has been thrown into contact.

Outside the circle described, all is blank to the Australian. He has no architecture, no pottery and almost no weaving, and may be said to have no religion. His sensations may scarcely, if at all, be said to have attained the dignity of sentiments, much less that of sentimentalities. The man domineers over the woman, who is as much his property as his boomerang or dingo. Male offspring are held in considerable estimation, and a father will bewail the death of a son for months, and even for years. Old men and old, infirm women, on the other hand, are cruelly abandoned, and left to starve to death, for they are considered worthless and a burden, and consumers of the food that should go to the support of the young and physically strong. During the summer they roam about naked, utterly strangers to shame, which seems not to be innate to their natures. Wives are accounted an item in a man’s chattels, the stealing of which being met with some definite punishment. Caves, where they abound, afford shelter and security for some of the tribes, but where these are not found, screens of twigs and bushes covered with leaves or turf, or logs of wood and turf, serve for protection and cover for a few days or weeks, till the pursuit of food calls them elsewhere.

AUSTRALIAN AT HOME.
Returned from the Chase with Kangaroo.

Thrift is unknown to the Australian. His life alternates between satiety and semi-starvation. In summer he goes naked, but in winter he wraps himself in kangaroo skins. A girdle of hair bound about his loins holds his dowak, as his digging-stick is called, and an apron of skins suspended from the girdle affords a protection from shrubs. His food consists largely of animals, which he devours alive, and includes lizards, snakes, the heads being rejected, frogs, white ants, larvæ and moths. Other animals are roasted, showing that the Australian knows, contrary to an opinion that once prevailed, the method of kindling a fire. In seasons of dearth, when there is a paucity of food-material, cannibalism is general. He then makes an attack upon a neighboring tribe who is his enemy, and if he cannot obtain food in this manner, he scruples not to fall back upon his wife and his children. One obligation of the wife is to keep her husband supplied with vegetable food, such as the roots of the wild yam, seeds of the acacia, sophoræ, leaves of the grass-tree, etc. Failing to produce a sufficiency, she is liberally treated with maulings and spearings, so that a wife generally appears bruised and gashed all over her body.

Among the different tribes of Australians, the boomerang is the principal weapon. This is a flat stick, three feet in length, and curves at the centre. It is thrown into the air among birds, jerks in a zigzag, spiral or circular fashion, and when thrown by a person skilled in its use is sure to bring down a few individuals at every throwing. Besides this weapon they have the throwing-stick, flint-pointed spears, shields, stone-hatchets, digging-sticks, netting-needles, nets of sinews, fibres or hairs, water-skins and canoes.

No government exists among this people outside that of the family, and no laws except certain traditionary rules about property. As for their religion, they have little save their terror of ghosts and demons, and certain superstitious traditional rites applicable to epochs in a man’s life, but more especially so at the time of his burial. At ten years of age, a boy is covered with blood; at ten to fourteen, he is circumcised in the north and south of Australia, but not in the west or on the Murray River; and at twenty, he is tattooed or scarred. Felicity after death is the reward of proper burial, but a man dying in battle or rotting in a field becomes an evil genius.

No more perfect example of tribal organization exists than that of the tribes of Australasia. In a very large proportion of existing tribes, the tribe is an aggregate of several stocks or distinct bodies of kindred, the persons composing the tribes being included in stocks which are, or are accounted, distinct from each other. Two tribal customs, namely, the prohibition of marriage between persons of the same stock, and the reckoning of kinship through females only, so that children are accounted of the stock of their mother, sustain this organization. Persons of the same stock, too, owe duties to each other, and are to some extent participants in each other’s liabilities. An injury done by a man is an injury done by his stock, which may be avenged upon any member thereof; or an injury done to a man is an injury done by his stock, for which every member of it is bound to seek vengeance. As a consequence of these customs, a husband must be of a different stock from his wife or wives, and therefore must be accounted of a different stock from his children; and if he has wives of different stocks, then their respective children are accounted of different stocks. More than one stock, it will thus be perceived, is represented in every household. And since a man owes duties to his stock—the duties of acknowledged blood-relationship—while to those of his family who are not of his stock, there being nothing but the accident of birth to unite him, it necessarily follows that the family among these tribes has very little cohesion.

Wholly sensuous is the language of the Australian, their abstraction tending only in the way of arithmetic as far as the number five, and that itself being quite an unusual stretch. Polysyllabic as it is in formation, and having the accent on the penultimate, it is not at all inharmonious. Though it comprehends many divergent forms, yet they seem to be all fundamentally connected, constituting a group entirely isolated from any of the linguistic families of the other parts of the world. Within its narrow confines the language is well developed and sensuously copious and expressive.

Like almost all other savages, the native Australians are rapidly disappearing before the spread of civilization. The European settlers crowd them out of all the more fertile and habitable lands, pressing them more and more into the desert of the interior, where they find it exceedingly hard to obtain in their roving, unsettled lives the necessary means of subsistence. Great numbers are thus forced to succumb to deprivations not of their own bringing, and not a few to the diseases and vices brought among them by the new possessors of their domains. The lowest estimate of their number, prior to the settlement of Europeans among them, gives over 150,000, but the natives still surviving scarcely figure one-half of that population. It is only a question of a decade or two when the Australian, like the Tasmanian, who was once his near neighbor, will have vanished from off the face of the country, leaving behind him his implements of war and the chase, his culinary and domestic apparatus, and the rude carvings of his hands in caves and in rocks, as the principal evidences of his earthly existence.

By competent critics the Australian is pronounced to be the most degraded of human beings, and the lowest type of man. In reason, love, generosity, conscience and mere responsibility he is the inferior of many of the lower animals, and in the erection of a house for comfort, shelter and security he is surpassed by creatures even as low in the scale as the worms and insects. It is true, when hunger has to be met, that he has shown some skill in the manufacture of implements necessary to the obtainment of his food, and also in resisting the attacks of his own kind and of the natural enemies by which he is surrounded. There is no doubt that he is well satisfied with his condition in life, and could hardly be induced to exchange it for another. He has doubtless fulfilled the purpose of his being in the world, and unable to cope in the struggle for existence with a superior civilization must succumb to the latter which is better fitted to endure, a sad but impressive lesson which is the teaching of every chapter of the world’s geologic story.