We made daily excursions into the woods, which were unusually dense and abounded with lawyer-palms. As usual, the leeches[[14]] were very numerous in these mountains, and were very annoying. As you walk through the woods, exhausted and dripping with perspiration, you scarcely notice their bites before they have satisfied their thirst for blood, but then the blood flows freely from the wound. The ticks, however, are a far greater annoyance. All the scrubs up here are so full of these insects that a white man dreads to enter them, though the natives are not at all annoyed by them. A splendid remedy for the itching caused by these insects is lemon juice, and hence I always took lemons with me on my expeditions from Herbert Vale. I put this juice over my whole body, and thus the insects were doubtless killed, for I immediately felt relief. A larger species of tick is also found here which kills the dogs of Europeans, but, strange to say, has no effect on the dingo. They are, however, a great inconvenience to the white man, and should at once be killed by applying petroleum to them. It is useless to try to jerk them out, for a part of them will remain in the flesh and may cause bad sores. I know a man who became blind for a few minutes on account of a tick which he could not get entirely rid of, a part of it remaining in the flesh of his back.
[14]. They are not eaten by the natives.
On my wanderings here, my blacks found in a pool formed by a mountain brook a toollah (Pseudochirus archeri). The natives all shouted at once, yarri. They told me that the large yarri, which I never succeeded in securing, but of whose existence I have no doubt, subsists for a great part on this animal, which, in this instance, it had left in the cool water for future consumption. One is tempted to believe that the yarri understands the preserving quality of the water. The natives, too, preserve their meat in the water during the hot summer months, as the temperature of the water is, of course, lower than that of the air. The fact probably is, that the yarri has found the water to be a safer place for storing the meat. The toollah was put between some stones near the edge of the river. I was much pleased with what the natives told me, for it awakened in me hopes of securing a specimen of this large marsupial. Fortunately, I had strychnine with me. I poisoned the toollah and laid it on the bank. Farther up the stream I left several pieces of meat, likewise prepared with poison, a source of great aggravation to the blacks, who would have liked to eat the meat. As we went to examine the snares every day, I was very much afraid that our dog might eat the poison, and I kept constantly warning the blacks.
One day, as we were returning to the camp, the natives were to take a beat by themselves through the scrub. I urged them particularly not to return along the river, but to come through the woods, so as to avoid the poisoned meat. Later in the day, as they were coming home, I heard them talking about poison and about “Balnglan.” I at once became suspicious, and asked if the dog had eaten any of the poison. They denied it, but when I pressed them with questions they admitted that they had returned by the way of the river, probably because they were too lazy to go the other way, and they also confessed that “Balnglan” had taken the poisoned toollah in his mouth. Yokkai had at once taken the toollah out of “Balnglan’s” mouth, so that he had not eaten any of it. No sooner had they made this statement than the dog fell into spasms. I rushed into my hut, mixed as quickly as I could some tobacco and water to pour down the dog’s throat, while Yokkai and another man held it, but it died at once.
Yokkai gazed at it for a moment, then turned away and wept bitterly. He sat down and wrung his hands in despair, while large tears rolled down his cheeks. The other man also began to sob and cry aloud.
Though I felt the deepest sympathy for them, I could not endure these endless lamentations. I got two large pieces of tobacco, and offered it as a reward to them if they would cease their sobbing. Yokkai became silent at once and straightened himself up, while he looked at the tobacco with his eyes full of tears. He accepted it with contentment, but there was not a smile on his face. The other continued sobbing until it came to be his turn to get tobacco, then his sorrow was cured instantly.
I myself was touched by this event, for the good beast, which lay there dead and rigid, had been of great service to me. It was the best dog for miles round, and was the most intelligent dingo I have ever seen. I not only placed a high value on it, but I was also very fond of it, though it had several times attacked my leather traps, such as strings, shoes, and even my revolver case. I was anxious to preserve at least its fine black skin with white breast and yellow legs, and I suggested to Yokkai that he should let me have it. Knowing that such a request would be opposed, I at the same time offered tobacco as a compensation. He at first objected, but when he saw two whole sticks of tobacco, every scruple vanished and his eyes beamed with satisfaction. He even assisted me in skinning the dingo, and from this time he regained his usual good humour. He had some suspicions that Nilgora, the owner of the dog, would become angry when he learned of this sad event, but he felt certain that he could satisfy him by giving him his woollen blanket and some tobacco.
CHAPTER XXII
Unpleasantnesses at Herbert Vale—New expeditions—Hunting human flesh—Cannibalism—Human flesh is the greatest delicacy of the Australian blacks—Superstitions in connection with the eating of human flesh—The taste of the cannibals—Cannibalism in Burma.
