In some districts the turtle is taken by means of a harpoon, which is identical in principle with that which is used by the hippopotamus hunters of Africa. There is a long shaft, into the end of which is loosely slipped a movable head. A rope is attached to the head, and a buoy to the other end of the rope. As soon as the reptile is struck, the shaft is disengaged, and is picked up by the thrower; while the float serves as an indication of the turtle’s whereabouts, and enables the hunters to tow it toward the shore.
One of the natives, named Gi’ôm, told Mr. M’Gillivray that they sometimes caught the turtle by means of the remora, or sucking-fish. One of these fish, round whose tail a line has been previously made fast, is kept in a vessel of water on board the boat, and, when a small turtle is seen, the remora is dropped into the sea. Instinctively it makes its way to the turtle, and fastens itself so firmly to the reptile’s back that they are both hauled to the boat’s side and lifted in by the fishermen. Only small turtles can be thus taken, and there is one species which never attains any great size which is generally captured in this curious manner.
The hawksbill turtle is too dangerous an antagonist to be chased in the water. The sharp-edged scales which project from its sides would cut deeply into the hands of any man who tried to turn it; and even the green turtle, with its comparatively blunt-edged shell, has been known to inflict a severe wound upon the leg of the man who was clinging to its back. The native, therefore, is content to watch it ashore, and by means of long, stout poles, which he introduces leverwise under its body, turns it over without danger to himself.
When the Australians have succeeded in turning a turtle, there are great rejoicings, as the very acme of human felicity consists, according to native ideas, in gorging until the feasters can neither stand nor sit. They may be seen absolutely rolling on the ground in agony from the inordinate distension of their stomachs, and yet, as soon as the pain has abated, they renew their feastings. Mostly they assemble round the turtle, cook it rudely, and devour it on the spot; but in Torres Straits they are more provident, and dry the flesh in order to supply themselves with food during their voyages. They cut up the meat into thin slices, boil the slices, and then dry them in the sun.
During the process of cooking, a considerable amount of oil rises to the surface, and is skimmed off and kept in vessels made of bamboo and turtles’ bladders. The cook, however, has to exercise some vigilance while performing his task, as the natives are so fond of the oil that, unless they are closely watched, they will skim it off and drink it while in an almost boiling state. The boiling and subsequent drying render the flesh very hard, so that it will keep for several weeks; but it cannot be eaten without a second boiling.
The shell of the hawksbill turtle is doubly valuable to the natives, who reserve a little for the manufacture of hooks, and sell the rest to shippers or traders, who bring it to Europe, where it is converted into the “tortoise-shell” with which we are so familiar. There is in my collection a beautiful specimen of one of these scales of tortoise-shell as it was purchased from the natives. It is about eleven inches in length and seven in width, and has a hole at one end by which they string the scales together. There are the scars of eight large limpet shells upon it, showing the singular appearance which the animal must have presented when alive.
The cooking of turtle is a far more important process than that of boiling fish, and a sort of oven is required in order to dress it properly. In principle the oven resembles that which is in use in so many parts of the world, and which has been already described when shewing how the hunters of South Africa cook the elephant’s foot. Instead, however, of digging a hole and burning wood in it, the Australian takes a number of stones, each about the size of a man’s fist, and puts them into the fire. When they are heated, they are laid closely together, and the meat placed upon them. A second layer of heated stones is arranged upon the meat, and a rim or bank of tea-tree bush, backed up with sand or earth, is built round this primitive oven. Grass and leaves are then strewn plentifully over the stones, and are held in their places by the circular bank. The steam is thus retained, and so the meat is cooked in a very effectual manner.
In some parts of the country, however, a more elaborate oven is used. It consists of a hole some three feet in diameter and two feet in depth, and is heated in the following manner:—It is filled to within six inches of the top with round and hard stones, similar to those which have already been described, and upon them a fire is built and maintained for some time. When the stones are thought to be sufficiently heated, the embers are swept away, and the food is simply laid upon the stones and allowed to remain there until thoroughly cooked.
This kind of oven is found over a large range of country, and Mr. M’Gillivray has seen it throughout the shores of Torres Straits, and extending as far southward as Sandy Cape on the eastern side.