As a striking example he mentions the inflections of the verbs. At Moreton Bay the verbs have far more inflections than the verbs in the Hebrew language. They can be conjugated reflexively, reciprocally, frequentatively, causatively, and permissively. They have not only indicative, imperative, and subjunctive, past, present, and future, expressed by definite inflectional endings, but each one of these endings may assume distinct shades of meaning expressed by different inflections. The imperfect of the verb to speak (goal) has not only a form which means “spoke,” but forms which mean “spoke to-day,” “spoke yesterday,” “spoke some days ago,” etc. The same is the case with the future. There are three imperatives: (1) speak; (2) thou shalt speak (emphatic); (3) speak if you can, or if you dare (ironical). The nouns are regularly inflected by suffixes; ngu means of, go to, da in, di from, kunda with, etc. The pronouns have both dual and plural form: ngaia I, ngulle we two, you and I; ngullina (comp. Herbert river, allingpa) we two, he and I, etc. This complicated syntax is found in many tribes, though they may have widely different languages.
Mr. E. M. Curr, of Melbourne, has recently in a great and very meritorious work, The Australian Race, pointed out a most striking resemblance between the languages of the Australian blacks and those of the African negroes. His opinion is that the Australian natives are descended from the African negroes by a cross with some other race. He admits that the Australian blacks look quite different from the natives of Africa, but he shows that the customs, the superstitions, and above all the languages, agree in many respects in a most remarkable manner. He points out the striking fact that while the Papuan and the Australian languages are almost totally different, still many of the words used by the Australian blacks are almost identical with those employed by the negroes of Africa.
The language of the natives on Herbert river is imperative and brief. A single word frequently expresses a whole sentence. “Will you go with me?” is expressed simply by the interrogation nginta? (thou?), and the answer, “I will stay where I am,” by karri ngipa (I remain). “I will go home,” ngipa míttago (literally, I in respect to the hut).
The suffix go literally means “with regard to,” and is usually added to nouns to give them a verbal meaning, but it is also sometimes added to verbs. The question Wainta Morbora?—that is, “Where is Morbora?”—can be answered by saying only títyengo (he has gone hunting títyen) (wallaby), (literally, with respect to wallaby); or, for example, mittago he is at home (literally, with regard to the hut). Mottaigo means “he is eating” (literally, with regard to eating). “Throw him into the water,” is expressed simply by ngallogo. As is evident, this is a very convenient suffix, as it saves a number of moods and tenses. It may also be used to express the genitive—for example, toolgil tomoberogo, the bones of the ox.
There frequently is no difference between nouns, verbs, and adjectives. Kola means wrath, angry, and to get angry. Poka means smell, to smell, and rotten; oito means a jest, and to jest.
“It is noon,” is vi ōrupi (sun big). “It is early in the morning,” is vi naklam (sun little). “It is near sunset,” is vi molle mongan. Kolle is a very common word. It is, in fact, used to call attention to a strange or remarkable sound, and means “hush!” Kolle mal! “Hush, there is a strange man!” Kólle is also used to express indignation or a protest, “far from it.” A superlative of an adjective is expressed by repetition—for example, krally-krally, “very old.”
The vocabulary is small. The language is rich in words describing phenomena that attract the attention of the savage, but it lacks words for abstract notions. The natives, being utterly unable to generalise, have no words for kinds or classes of things, as tree, bird, fish, etc. But each variety of these things has its own name. Strange to say, there are words not only for the animals and plants which the natives themselves use, but also for such as they have no use for or interest in whatever. On Georgina river the natives have a special word for sweetheart.
On Herbert river I found, to my surprise, various names for flame and coals. Vákkun meant camp fire, coals, or the burning stick of wood, while the flame was called koyílla.
Of numerals the Australian natives have no comprehension. Many tribes have only two numerals, viz. 1 and 2, and by combining these they can count to five, thus—1 keiarpe, 2 pulette, 3 pulette-keiarpe, 4 pulette-pulette, 5 pulette-pulette-keiarpe. Several tribes have three numerals, as, for instance, Herbert Vale tribe—1 yóngul, 2 yákkan, 3 kárbo, 4, etc., is usually expressed by taggin (many). Occasionally a tribe may be found which has a word for 10. The word literally means two hands (bolita murrung), a remarkable parallel existing in many other languages (from the Sandwich Island to Madagascar) in which the word lima means both hand and five.
The dialects of the natives abound in proper nouns. Every locality has its name, every mountain, every brook, every opening in the woods. Many of these names are remarkable for their euphony. As a curiosity I quote the following stanza—