A kind of hand-ball is practised on Bathurst Island. The seeds of the Zamia (Cycas media) take the place of a small ball. Two lads stand facing each other and hit the seed to and fro with the palms of their hands, after the style of a modern game of tennis. On the Victoria River, the children made similar use of the green seed capsules of the cotton-tree.
In the Meda district of north-western Australia, players at the same game employed flat pieces of wood resembling cricket bats, the balls being fashioned out of the woody fruits of the Pandanus.
Catch-ball is played by the children of all Australian tribes. The “balls” might consist of anything; the Arunndta of the Finke River country use the seeds of the Macrozamia Macdonnelli, the natives of Melville and Bathurst Island Zamia and Pandanus seeds, the Larrekiya of Port Darwin small bags stuffed with fur, the scrotum of a kangaroo being often used for the purpose. It is surprising, however, that despite the quickness of their eyes and the keenness of their sight, the natives, as a rule, are very backward at catching with their hands any object which is thrown at them.
The boys of the Arunndta and Aluridja tribes construct a small cylindrical stick sharpened at both ends, which they lay on the ground; then, with a longer stick held in the right hand, they strike one end of it, to make it bounce into the air, and, as it rises, hit it with considerable force. Competitions are held to see who can, by this method, drive the small object farthest. The game is much the same as our familiar “tip-cat.”
From Sunday Island I have already recorded a peculiar type of throwing contest, which the girls were indulging in at the time of our visit. Two rows of seven or eight each were standing a couple of chains apart, and, whilst facing one another, were bombarding their opponents with consolidated cakes of cow-dung. The missiles were thrown with considerable skill, even by the smallest girls, due allowance being made for the curvature in flight. It was part of the game to dodge the flying bodies, and, whenever a hit was recorded, a triumphant cheer would ring from the opposite side. In rushing wildly about the space, the light calico skirts of the playing damsels would fly high in the air, exposing their slender limbs beneath. In their eagerness to hit, and avoid being hit, they repeatedly exclaimed: “Arre minya, arre minya.” Some of the more experienced throwers showed their proficiency by using flat slabs of stone in lieu of the cakes of dung.
The games we generally refer to as “hide-and-seek” are known to the tribes of Australia. In one game a number of persons hide behind bushes and boulders and are sought by one or more children; in another an article is hidden by one and looked for by the rest of the party. The players endeavour to mislead the “seeker” by obliterating their tracks and substituting them by all sorts of “back-to-front,” “devil-devil,” and other deceptive tracks. When a “find” is made there is a loud, jubilant cry; and the “hider,” unless he can escape in time, is pommelled by the “seeker”; the players do not, however, run back to a crease or “home,” as we do in the European game.
Once one considers toys supplied by adults for the special benefit of children, the question resolves itself into an analysis of endless possibilities of creation achieved by the happy combination of inventive mimicry and lucid interpretation. It would be as futile to attempt an exhaustive discussion upon so big a subject as it would be to even try to describe all the artificial objects one classes as toys, however crude they might appear, which are manufactured for the purpose of entertaining and instructing the child. And, indeed, the young folks themselves are neither idle nor behindhand in augmenting the collection of playthings supplied by others.
Most of these articles are, however, made on the spur of an impulse and serve their purpose just for the time being.
One of the favourite occupations of the children of all Australian tribes is to build small brushwood shelters and wurlies for themselves to sit and talk in like grown-ups. Occasionally they occupy these miniature domiciles as “father and mother,” but more often as “father” or “mother,” with a number of “children” to “look after.”
When the “children” are not available as living playmates, inanimate objects, such as stone, bits of wood, leaves and flowers, are selected to take the “children’s” place. These receive names and are placed in a row before the “foster parent,” who talks to them and frequently changes them about. But the best part of the game is when one of the “children” is supposed to misbehave itself, and in consequence must receive a good flogging with a stick, kept handy for that purpose. At other times one of the objects is taken up, nursed, and spoken to most affectionately.