Note 2.—“I cannot sit down without making an allusion to a cognate subject that for a very long time has occupied my attention. I allude to the legends and traditions of the aborigines of Australia. It is possible that the gentlemen present may doubt of their existence, but I beg to assure them that the tribes of Australia are not so barren in these particulars as may be imagined. There is scarcely a constellation in the heavens that has not its appropriate legend, and the animals of the land are invested with the supernatural. Capes, promontories, and islands of our shores are transformations, or are otherwise connected with legendary lore. The origin of their own species, and their various ceremonies, abound with singular and exotic ideas, and the wildest fancies. The Australian savage has his myths, legends, and poetry, like his brothers of other regions; and I mention it for the purpose of throwing out a suggestion to the members of the Philosophical Society, that it would be an interesting work, and worthy of the employment of some portion of their funds to collect and collate together these treasures, before the race disappears from off the face of the land. Sir George Grey has done as much for New Zealand, and I sincerely hope that ere long the same may be accomplished for Australia.”
[Extracted from the 4th Annual Report of the Adelaide Philosophical Society, from a paper on “The Song of Hiawatha,” by the Author.]
THE LEGEND
OF
THE RED KANGAROO.
The rippling waves of Boston Bay
Lay glimm’ring in the fading day
Growing shadows were length’ning o’er,
Dark’ning the distant islet’s shore.
Far away in the open sea,
Beyond the Cape Catastrophe,
The sun shot forth its golden ray,
And kiss’d each wave in parting play.
Gorg’ous colours o’erspread the sky,
From farthest verge that’s scann’d by eye,
To where the sun’s effulgent rays
Pour’d forth its last resplendent blaze.
Majestic clouds were pil’d and mass’d,
In form sublime and grand in rest,
In true perspective—line on line,
Till mix’d and lost in hues divine.
Splashing loud on the pebbly beach,
The dimpling waves were chasing each
Filling inlet, dent, and bay,
With murmurs soft, and sparkling spray.