Suddenly, upon some inspiring allegretto movement of the thumping band, thirty or forty grim savages would bound successively through the furious flames into the sacred arena, looking like veritable demons on a special visit to terra firma, and, after thoroughly exhausting themselves by leaping in imitation of the kangaroo around and through the fire, they vanished in an instant. These were as rapidly succeeded by their lovely gins, who, at a given signal from the beldame speaker, rose en masse, and ranging themselves round the fresh-plied flames in a state unadorned and genuine as imported into the world, contorted their arms, legs, and bodies into attitudes that would shame first-class acrobats. The grand point, however, with each of the well-greased beauties was to scream down her sable sister.
This dance, as well as other native customs, has departed, together with the aborigines, from the island, and the native Tasmanians are now practically extinct. There is before me a photograph of the three remaining survivors of these tribes, which some sixty years ago numbered between six and seven thousand. That they should have so rapidly perished under the influence of the white man is explained from the fact that their island is but limited in extent, and that they are altogether inferior to the aborigines of the continent. They are small in stature, the men averaging only five feet three inches in height, and they are very ill-favored in countenance, the line from the nose to the corners of the mouth being very deep and much curved, so as to enclose the mouth in a pair of parentheses. The hair is cut very closely. This is done by means of two sharp-edged fragments of flint, broken glass being preferred since Europeans settled in the country. Cutting the hair is necessarily a tedious ceremony, only ten or twelve hairs being severed at a time, and upwards of three hours being consumed in trimming a head fit for a dance. Shaving is conducted after the same manner.
The general habits of the Tasmanian natives agree with those of the continent. The mode of climbing trees, however, is a curious mixture of the Australian and Polynesian custom. When the native discovers the marks of an opossum on the bark, he plucks a quantity of wire grass, and rapidly lays it up in a three-stranded plait, with which he encircles the tree and his own waist. By means of a single chop of the tomahawk he makes a slight notch in the bark, into which he puts his great toe, raises himself by it, and simultaneously jerks the grass band up the trunk of the tree. Notch after notch is thus made, and the native ascends with incredible rapidity, the notches never being less than three feet six inches apart.
Often, the opossum, alarmed at the sound of the tomahawk, leaves its nest, and runs along some bare bough, projecting horizontally from eighty to a hundred feet above the ground. The native walks along the bough upright and firm as if the tree were his native place, and shakes the animal into the midst of his companions who are assembled under the tree.
The natives never, in their wild state, wear clothes of any kind. They manufacture cloaks of opossum and kangaroo skins, but only in defence against cold. They are wonderful hunters, and have been successfully employed by the colonists in tracing sheep that had strayed, or the footsteps of the thief who had stolen them. The slightest scratch tell its tale to these quick-eyed people, who know at once the very time at which the impression was made, and, having once seen it, start off at a quick pace, and are certain to overtake the fugitive.
The untimely end of the aboriginal Tasmanians is greatly to be attributed to the conduct of a well-known chief, called Mosquito. He was a native of Sydney, and, having been convicted of several murders, was, by a mistaken act of lenity, transported to Tasmania, when he made acquaintance with the Oyster Bay tribe. Being much taller and stronger than the natives, he was unanimously elected chief, and took the command. His reign was most disastrous for the Tasmanians. He ruled them with a rod of iron, punishing the slightest disobedience with a blow of his tomahawk, not caring in the least whether the culprit were killed or not. He organized a series of depredations on the property of the colonists, and was peculiarly celebrated for his skill in stealing potatoes, teaching his followers to abstract them from the ridges, and to rearrange the ground so as to look as if it had never been disturbed, and to obliterate all traces of their footmarks with boughs.
Under the influence of such a leader, the natives became murderers as well as thieves, so that the lives of the colonists were always in peril. It was therefore necessary to take some decided measures with them; and after sundry unsuccessful expeditious, the natives at last submitted themselves, and the whole of them, numbering then (1837) scarcely more than three hundred, were removed to Flinder’s Island, where a number of comfortable stone cottages were built for them, infinitely superior to the rude bough huts or miam-miams of their own construction. They were liberally supplied with food, clothing, and other necessaries, as well as luxuries, and the Government even appointed a resident surgeon to attend them when ill. All this care was, however, useless. Contact with civilization produced its usual fruits, and in 1861 the native Tasmanians were only thirteen in number. Ten have since died, and it is not likely that the three who survived in 1867 will perpetuate their race.
That the singularly rapid decadence of the Tasmanians was partly caused by the conduct of the shepherds, and other rough and uneducated men in the service of the colonists, cannot be denied. But the white offenders were comparatively few, and quite unable themselves to effect such a change in so short a time. For the real cause we must look to the strange but unvariable laws of progression. Whenever a higher race occupies the same grounds as a lower, the latter perishes, and, whether in animate or inanimate nature, the new world is always built on the ruins of the old.
CHAPTER LXXIV.
AUSTRALIA—Continued.
DOMESTIC LIFE.
MARRIAGE — PURCHASE AND EXCHANGE OF WIVES — A ROUGH WOOING — TREATMENT OF THE WIVES — A BRUTAL HUSBAND — NARROW ESCAPE — A FAITHFUL COMPANION — AUSTRALIAN MOTHERS — TREATMENT OF THE NEW-BORN INFANT — PRACTICE OF INFANTICIDE — THE MOTHER AND HER DEAD CHILD.