That I was not killed by my men (a circumstance which white people whom I have met have wondered at), I owed to the fact that they never wholly lost their respect for my firearms. At first, at least, I was regarded by them as something inexplicable—as a sort of mysterious being who could travel from land to land without being eaten, and whose chief interest lay in things which, in their eyes, were utterly useless, such as the skins and bones of slain animals.
There was a peculiar protection to me in the fortunate circumstance that they imagined that I did not sleep, and I think this was the chief reason why they did not attack me in the night. During the winter, when there was a great difference between the temperature of the night and that of the day, the cold was very trying to me, and I awoke regularly once or twice in the night when our large camp fire had gone out. All my men lay entirely naked around the extinguished fire; some sleeping, others cold and half awake, who, however, thought it too much of an effort to go after fuel. I then usually called one of them, and by promising tobacco—and I had made them accustomed to have entire confidence in my words—induced him to go out in the dark night and procure more fuel.
By being thus perpetually disturbed they acquired the idea that the “white man” was always on the alert and had the “baby of the gun” ready.
CHAPTER IX
My first expedition with the blacks—A night in the forest—Fear of evil spirits—Morning toilet—Maja yarri—Borboby—The “lists” of the natives—Warriors in full dress—Swords and shields—Fights—The rights of black women—Abduction of women.
The first black man recommended to me by Jacky was named Morbŏra. He belonged to a remote tribe on friendly terms with the blacks of Herbert river, and was regarded as an excellent hunter. Both he and his brother Mangōran declared themselves willing to accompany me. Morbora was a strong, muscular, square-built man hardly twenty years old, with a remarkably low forehead. He was unable to speak a word of English, and trembled with fear when Jacky introduced him to me. I did all in my power to quiet this young black, and took more than usual interest in him, though I soon noticed that he, like all his black brethren, sought to take advantage of my friendliness; still he was very useful to me.
Mangoran was lean and slender in comparison with his brother, and he looked more like a brute than a human being. His mouth was large, extending almost from one ear to the other. When he talked he rubbed his belly with complacency, as if the sight of me made his mouth water, and he gave me an impression that he would like to devour me on the spot. He always wore a smiling face, a mask behind which all the natives conceal their treacherous nature. Besides these two I secured a young lad, whom we called Pickle-bottle. He was to some extent “civilised,” and had learned a few English words; the other two were myall.
When we set out we were joined by Mangoran’s wife, a tolerably good-looking woman. The first night we encamped near a brook under a newly-fallen tree; we cut down some small trees, laid them sloping on both sides of the tree-trunk, and made a roof of grass.
Outside this cabin, of which I took possession, my blacks encamped in the shelter of some bushes which they had procured for the night, for the weather was very fine. I let the horses loose, tied bells on to their necks, and fetched some water in a big tin pail which I had brought with me on this trip to boil the meat in. A large fire was built, as we had to bake bread and needed plenty of ashes. After these preparations, and when I had been to the brook and taken my usual bath, I had to prepare supper. I sent one of the blacks to the nearest large gum-tree to chop off a piece of bark, on which, with the skill of a bushman, I kneaded the dough of wheat flour and water into the regular round cake. This damper was then baked in the ashes, while the beef was slowly boiling in the tin pail.
My companions were impatient for their supper, for the white man’s food is a delicacy wellnigh equal to human flesh. I distributed beef and damper equally among them, but I noticed to my surprise that they all gave Mangoran a part of their share, Morbora being particularly generous. The cause of this generosity was not then clear to me; for Mangoran was a very poor hunter and not very strong, neither did he possess more than one wife, so that his authority could not rest on those qualifications, which usually carry influence among allied tribes. I afterwards learned that he was a cunning fellow, and was successful in procuring human flesh, and there is nothing else that ensures respect among the Australian aborigines in so high a degree. In regard to the relation between the two brothers, I afterwards discovered that Mangoran was simply a black Alphonse. Without much physical strength, and very lazy, he preferred to live in idleness, and he left it to his brother to furnish the ménage à trois with the necessities of the day.