Those who had collected were of all sizes and ages, and most of them had left home so very hurriedly that they had quite forgotten to put on their "ulsters." But there were no females in the assembly. Here (and likewise back at the Stirling) I notice the lubras come but a very short distance from their wurlies, near which they remained standing—screaming during the first few minutes of the excitement with delight, and, I think, calling the dogs back.
Not from anyone of the crowd, for whose edification I spun the wheels round, could I get a word of white-fellow lingo; and all I have by which to remember my futile attempts at a conversation is a note written on the spot to the effect that they, in common with other of the natives whom I had met "laughed in fairly good English."
* * * *
The first beholding of adult blackfellows and blackfellowesses naked, may be slightly shocking to sensitive nerves. An uncomfortable, uneasy feeling will probably be induced. But this creepiness soon passes, and one comes to either look upon or pass unnoticed the ungarbed blackfellow (and later on the average lubra), as he might the apes and monkeys in a zoological gardens.
Some of the habits of those animals are theirs, too; when collected and watched awhile it will for evermore "go without saying" to the observer that they are natural-born hunters.
They have no thought for the things of the morrow, but they consider the birds of the air and how they shall catch them. The youths are adepts in the art of stone throwing; lubras, though, are by far the better hands. They ask not for money as wages—only "tucka," "toombacca," or "bacca," and "ole clo."
One of them in a quiet confidential chat gave it as his opinion—"White fella big one fool; him work all the time!"
I explained how it might be: the whitefellow worked to save up money with which to purchase leisure in his old age—"all the same sleep all day then," I explained.