DINGO.
Though the dingo is treated so well it often runs away, especially in the pairing season, and at such times it never returns. Thus it never becomes perfectly domesticated, still is very useful to the natives, for it has a keen scent and traces every kind of game; it never barks, and hunts less wildly than our dogs, but very rapidly, frequently capturing the game on the run. Sometimes it refuses to go any farther, and its owner has then to carry it on his shoulders, a luxury of which it is very fond. The dingo will follow nobody else but its owner; this materially increased my difficulties in finding a dog, for it was useless unless the owner could be persuaded to go with me; besides, but few of the dingoes understand hunting the boongary, for which they have to be specially trained from the beginning.
In company with four men I rode across Sea-View Range. On its summit a tribe was said to be encamped owning a very good dog, which I had heard much talked of. I sent two of my men to the camp with a supply of tobacco, in order to borrow the dog, but they returned in the evening minus both dog and tobacco, for the dog had followed its owner to another camp, and still they had, with their usual liberality, distributed the tobacco right and left.
On the way I shot a kangaroo, which I wanted to use as a lure. Kangaroos are very hard to kill, and once one of these animals hopped ninety paces after it had been shot by an express rifle, the exploding ball of which had torn its heart into pieces. According to my experience they die most speedily when they are hit in the breast with a charge of large shot, which, if the distance is not too great, generally makes them fall on the spot. In such a case the quick death of the kangaroo made so deep an impression upon my natives that the event was the topic of their conversation for several days, accustomed, as they are, to see kangaroos run away pierced with several spears.
In the evening, as we approached the tribe said to have the dog, I sent two of my men in advance to inform the natives of my coming, otherwise they would be afraid of the white man and take to their heels. We encamped close by on a plat of grass extending into the scrubs. Gongola, the owner of the dog, and two other men came to me when they had learned the object of our visit. Gongola was a large stout fellow, and very friendly. In order to get on the right side of him I at once gave him a piece of tobacco, which he appropriated and then went away.
Before long he returned with two mound-builder’s eggs, which he presented to me. This liberality surprised me, for it is rare among the blacks, except among themselves. I suppose he wanted to show me that I was welcome. My experience is, on the whole, that uncivilised blacks are much more friendly and unpretentious than those who have been in contact with the white men. Gongola’s friendliness was all the more praiseworthy, since my gift was of no value to him; for he did not like tobacco. It is rare to meet natives who are not fond of tobacco; I only saw one other besides Gongola. I invited him to have supper with us, and he took his meals with us as long as we remained here.
Late in the evening my men heard the flying-squirrel (Petauroides) climbing the tall gum-trees above our heads, and the next day the blacks hunted these animals. Some of the men climbed the trees with the aid of their kāmins, in order to frighten them out from their abodes. Like chimney-sweeps they pulled the kāmins up and down in the hollow tree-trunks, at the same time shouting Po-pò! po-pò! in imitation of a night bird, and this po-pò was repeated by all those who stood below. The natives think that in this manner they can give the flying-squirrels the impression that it is night, and thus more easily coax them out. As a rule, they come forth quite suddenly, stretch their fliers, and fly slowly and elegantly into another tree, and while climbing the stem of this tree they are killed with sticks thrown at them.
They soon succeeded in frightening one of these animals out of a tree, and although the sun was shining in all its splendour, the squirrel landed with remarkable accuracy at the foot of a gum-tree eighty paces distant. While ascending the trunk I shot it.
The natives here, particularly the women, looked wretched, being both poor and filthy. Some of them had a sickly, pale complexion and dry skin, and many of the children were covered with eruptions. My impression is that there was too little variety in their food, as they lived chiefly on vegetables. The Australian is usually sound and healthy, and not much troubled with illness. But for the skin diseases, which he gets from the white men, he is usually a healthy individual. It is very rare to see any one with a bodily defect, though an old warrior with one hand was well known near Rockhampton.