Upon his arrival, Bennillong made inquiries after his wife,[75] but having heard no very good account of her conduct, he at length tempted her by some rose-coloured clothes and a gipsy bonnet to leave her new lover and return to her former husband. Bennillong’s presents, however pretty, were of very little practical use, and he was soon afterwards missing, having gone into the Bush to give his rival a good beating with fists after the English method. However, all his valour was lost upon his wife, who deserted him,—an event which did not appear to give him great uneasiness, nor was it much to be wondered at, since she had been stolen by him. His absence from the governor’s house became now frequent, and when he went out, his clothes were usually left behind him, although he carefully resumed them on his return before he made his visit to the governor.
Within a year of his arrival from England this poor creature had a quarrel with his bosom-friend Cole-be, whose wife he had coveted, and from whom he received some severe wounds, together with the cutting inquiry, “Whether he meant that kind of conduct to be a specimen of English manners?” Thus Bennillong by degrees returned again to all the habits of savage life,—habits rendered rather worse than better by the experience he had gained respecting those of civilized men. He could not, however, keep on terms with his countrymen, and in 1796 he was obliged to call in the help of the governor’s soldiers to protect him from his own people. In the following year he was accused of having been the cause of a woman’s death, who had dreamed, when dying, that he had killed her; and by some it was said, that he actually had wounded her, so that it was demanded of him that he should undergo the ordeal of having some spears thrown at him. Although he denied the charge, yet it was not thought unlikely to be true, for he was now become so fond of drinking that he lost no opportunity of being intoxicated, and in that state was savage and violent enough to be capable of any mischief. On these occasions he amused himself with annoying and insulting all his acquaintance, who were afraid to punish him lest they should offend his white friends. But, however, his interest with the latter was fast declining, for in an affray between the natives, Bennillong chose to throw a spear among the soldiers, who interfered to prevent further mischief; and one of these was dreadfully wounded by him. He was, notwithstanding, set at liberty, but being offended at the blame his behaviour had brought down upon him he would sometimes walk about armed, and declare that he did so for the purpose of spearing the governor whenever he might see him! After repeated affrays and quarrels with his wife’s lover and other natives, Bennillong, who had almost entirely quitted the comforts and quiet of civilized life, was dangerously wounded twice within two or three months. And although no more is related concerning him, and it is true that he had recently recovered of several very severe wounds, yet the probability is, that this weak and violent savage was not long afterwards cut off in the midst of life by an untimely and cruel death.
Barangaroo’s Funeral.—When Barangaroo Daringha, Bennillong’s elder wife, who was above fifty at the time of her death, was to have the funeral rites performed over her body, it was resolved by her husband that she should be burned, and the governor, the judge-advocate, and the surgeon of the colony were invited to the ceremony, besides whom there were present Bennillong’s relatives and a few others, mostly females. The spot for the pile was prepared by digging out the ground with a stick, to the depth of a few inches, and in this a heap of wood was raised to the height of about three feet, the ends and sides being formed of dry pieces, and the middle of it consisting of small twigs and branches, broken off for the purpose, and thrown together. Some grass was then spread over the pile, and the corpse covered with an old blanket was placed upon it, with the head towards the north. A basket with sundry articles belonging to the deceased was placed by her side, and some large logs being laid over the body by Bennillong, the pile was lighted by one of the party, and was quickly all in a flame. Bennillong himself pointed out to his friends that the fire had reached the corpse, and the spot was left long before the pile was consumed, while the husband seemed more cheerful than had been expected, and spoke about finding a nurse among the white women for his infant and motherless child, Dil-boong.[76] The next day he invited the same party of Europeans to see him rake the ashes together, and none of his own people were present at this ceremony. He went before his companions in a sort of solemn silence, speaking to no one until he had paid the last duties to Barangaroo. In his hand was the spear, with which he meant to punish the car-rah-dy, or conjurer, for whom he had sent to attend her in her illness, but who either could not or would not obey the summons; and with the end of this spear he collected the funereal ashes into a heap. Over these he made, with a piece of bark, which served for a spade, a small mound of earth, on each side of which was placed a log of wood, and on the top the bark with which he had constructed it. All was done with the utmost care and neatness, and he seemed pleased, when, in reply to his inquiries, he was told by his friends that it was “good.” His behaviour throughout was solemn and manly, and he was perfectly silent during the whole of the ceremony, from which nothing was suffered to withdraw his attention. Nor did he seem desirous to get quickly through it, but paid these last rites of affection with a care that did honour to his feelings towards one, for whom, notwithstanding his barbarism, he appeared to feel a sincere and strong attachment. When his melancholy task was ended, he stood for a few moments, with his hands folded over his bosom, and his eye fixed upon his labours, in the attitude of a man in profound thought. What were his thoughts then it is impossible certainly to declare, but they may have been more nearly akin to those of the mere civilized worldling than we might at first imagine. Death brings all men to an equality, and throws down every distinction but one. That distinction, indeed, so far from overthrowing, death renders more marked and conspicuous than before, clearly making manifest the difference between the believer and the unbeliever, “between him that serveth God, and him that serveth him not.”
The Spitting Tribe.—This was the name given by Major Mitchell to one of the most troublesome and ferocious of the native tribes, the place of whose habitation is on the lonely banks of the Darling, in the interior of Eastern Australia. When these disagreeable people were first met with, the man who was taking care of the sheep belonging to the exploring party held out a green bough; but the savage, who had before pointed a spear at the Englishman, replied to his emblem of peace by taking a bough, spitting upon it, and then thrusting it into the fire. Upon Major Mitchell hastening to the spot, similar expressions of ill will were manifested, evidently with the purpose of telling the strangers that they must go back. The native and a boy who was with him then threw up dust at their enemies, in a clever way, with their toes. Their feelings of hostility and defiance were too plainly expressed to be mistaken. Every effort at conciliation was useless, until, at length, the enraged native of the Bush retired slowly along the river bank, singing a war-song as he went, and showing by his actions that he was going for his tribe. This happened in the morning; and during the afternoon of the same day, a party of the tribe made their appearance, holding out boughs indeed, but with a very different ceremonial from what had hitherto been observed.[77] Their violent and expressive gestures evidently were intended to drive back the intruders; and as these last could not but feel that they were not upon their own ground, they used every endeavour to conciliate the opposing party. The blacksmith belonging to the expedition was at work with his bellows and anvil near the river bank, and his labours seemed to awaken very much the curiosity of the natives, who, however, still refused to sit down, and continued to wave their branches in the faces of the white people, and to spit at them repeatedly, all which conduct was patiently endured in the hope of establishing afterwards a more agreeable and friendly intercourse. As a peace-offering, a tomahawk was presented to the leader, who, guessing immediately its use, turned round to a log, and chopped it. Two other stout fellows then rudely demanded the British officer’s pistols from his belt, whereupon he drew one, and, curious to see the effect, fired it at a tree. Immediately, as though they had previously suspected the intruders to be evil demons, and had at length a clear proof of it, they repeated their actions of defiance with tenfold fury, accompanying these with demoniac looks, hideous shouts, and a war-song,—crouching, jumping, spitting, springing with the spear, and throwing dust at them, as they slowly retired. In short, their hideous crouching postures, measured gestures, and low jumps, to the tune of a wild song, with the fiendish glare of their countenances, at times all black, but now all eyes and teeth, seemed a fitter spectacle for Pandemonium than for the light of the bounteous sun. Thus they retired, dancing in a circle, and leaving the strangers in expectation of their return, and perhaps an attack in the morning. Whatever was the cause of their hostility, any further attempt to quiet them appeared out of the question, and it was too likely that ere long the English party would be forced to prove their superiority by arms.[78]
These troublesome visitors did not, however, make their appearance again before the following afternoon, when their curiosity and desire to get more presents brought them forth from their hiding-places in the woods. By degrees, they seemed to gain a little more confidence; but signs of defiance were still made; and as their fears diminished, their love of pilfering appeared to increase. The blacksmith was at work this day also; and they moved towards him, commencing at the same time a kind of chant, and slowly waving their green boughs. There was evidently some superstition in the ceremony, and one of the parties concerned in it was a coradje, or priest, who occasionally turned his back upon the Europeans, and touched his eye-brows, nose, and breast; then pointing his arm to the sky, and with his hand afterwards laid upon his breast, pouring forth a most solemn chant. The blacksmith, with whose honest occupation all this formed a strange contrast, had been ordered not to laugh nor stop working, which orders he obeyed as long as it was practicable. But, gradually, the black visitors gathered round the forge, and began to pilfer whatever they could lay hand or foot upon, until the persecuted smith could no longer proceed with his work. The best part of this scene was, that they did not mind being observed by any one, except the blacksmith, supposing that they were robbing him only. His patience, however, being severely tried, he was at last tempted to give one of them a push, when a scene of chanting, spitting, and throwing dust commenced on the part of the thief, who was a stout fellow and carried a spear, which he seemed inclined to use. One or two articles were lost in spite of all efforts, but the explorers were glad to feel at peace with these people upon any terms, and both parties separated that night in a tolerably civil way.
On the following day, the travellers began to move onwards, but they did not leave behind (as they had hoped) their troublesome neighbours. The natives rushed forth from the woods in greater numbers than ever, being painted white, and many of them carrying spears, and shouting. A horse belonging to one of the party was so startled at this, that he galloped away, and was with some little difficulty recovered. The threats and defiance of the savages were again repeated; and when the party of explorers began to proceed onwards, the whole of the woods appeared to be in flames. Various annoyances and hindrances were experienced from these disagreeable inhabitants of the Bush, during the next ten or twelve days; after which an event happened, which, though sad and unfortunate in itself, was yet calculated to fill the minds of these impudent savages with some respect and awe for the power of the Europeans. Joseph Jones,—the man who attended the flock of sheep, which accompanied Major Mitchell’s party in their wanderings in the interior of New Holland,—had been sent for some water; and the tea-kettle he carried with him was the sole cause of the quarrel that ensued. As he was getting up the river bank with the water, another man being stationed (as usual) at the top to protect him with his pistol, one of the natives, with others in his company, met him half way up, and with a smile took hold of the pot which he was carrying, together with the kettle. This was done under pretence of helping Jones, but, on reaching the top of the bank, the savage, in the same jocose way, held it fast, until a woman said something to him; and then, letting the pot go, he seized the kettle with his left hand, and at the same time struck Jones senseless to the ground by a violent blow on the forehead, inflicted with a club which he held in his right. On seeing this the other man, who was stationed by way of protection, fired, and wounded the savage, who swam across the river, and made off as well as he could; but the rest of the tribe were now advancing. The Englishman fired twice at them, and the second time, unfortunately, he shot the woman already mentioned, who, with her child fastened to her back, slid down the bank, and lay, apparently dying, in the water. At this moment three other Englishmen arrived, who had been sent off from the camp when the noise of fire-arms was heard, and one man among the natives was shot in the breast, but little more mischief was done, for the tribe speedily dispersed, having dragged away the dead body of the woman; while Joseph Jones returned, wounded and bleeding, to the camp of the explorers. When night arrived, “a death-like silence,” says Major Mitchell, “prevailed along the banks of the river; no far-heard voices of natives at their fires broke, as before, the stillness of the night, while a painful sympathy for the child bereft of its parent, and anticipations of the probable consequences to us, cast a melancholy gloom over the scene. The waning moon at length arose, and I was anxiously occupied with the observations, which were most important at this point of my journey, when a mournful song, strongly expressive of the wailing of women, came from beyond the Darling, on the fitful breeze which still blew from the north-west.” The feelings of a brave but humane British officer, surrounded by difficulties, with very few except convicts under his command, annoyed by natives, yet anxious not to injure them, and just about to turn back from the journey of discovery which he had hitherto successfully pursued; the feelings of Major Mitchell under the circumstances so touchingly described by him can scarcely be imagined. The thoughts of a veteran who had served his country during many long years of war and strife, must have wandered back to past scenes and by-gone days, while he stood in that solitary wilderness; and when the wild shrill cry of savage grief came floating upon his ears, he must have felt most deeply those strange sensations which we experience
“When, musing o’er companions gone,
We doubly feel ourselves alone.”
These savages of the Darling have the power of doing with their toes many things most surprising to men who wear shoes, and have never been accustomed from infancy to climb trees after the Australian fashion. With their toes they gather the fresh-water muscles from the muddy bottoms of rivers or lakes, and these are one of their principal articles of food in the neighbourhood of the Darling. In the attempts of the Spitting Tribe to steal from the English party, their feet were much employed, and they would tread softly on any article, seize it with the toes, pass it up the back, or between the arm and side, and so conceal it in the arm-pit, or between the beard and throat. The hoary old priest of the Spitting Tribe, while intent upon tricks of this kind, chanted an extraordinary hymn to some deity or devil; the act was evidently superstitious and connected with no good principle. Arrangements were probably being made, and some of these strange ceremonies observed by them, for the purpose of destroying the strangers, intruders they might be called. “And no man,” observes Major Mitchell, “can witness the quickness and intelligence of the aborigines, as displayed in their instant comprehension of our numerous appliances, without feelings of sympathy. They cannot be so obtuse, as not to anticipate in the advance of such a powerful race as ours, the extirpation of their own, in a country which barely affords to them the means of subsistence.” Yet, melancholy though the reflection may appear, it is but too true, that scarcely any hope of improving and civilizing these barbarous people can be at present reasonably indulged. What a picture does the same humane traveller already quoted draw of the tribes about the lower part of the Darling, of whose character the Spitting Tribe may serve for a specimen. “It seldom happened,” he says, “that I was particularly engaged with a map, a drawing, or a calculation, but I was interrupted by them or respecting them. Our gifts seemed only to awaken on their part a desire to destroy us, and to take all we had. While sitting in the dust with them, according to their custom, often have they examined my cap, evidently with no other view than to ascertain whether it would resist the blow of a waddy, or short stick. Then they would feel the thickness of my dress, and whisper together, their eyes occasionally glancing at their spears and clubs. The expression of their countenances was sometimes so hideous, that, after such interviews, I have found comfort in contemplating the honest faces of the horses and sheep; and even in the scowl of ‘the patient ox,’ I have imagined an expression of dignity, when he may have pricked up his ears, and turned his horns towards these wild specimens of the ‘lords of the creation.’ Travellers in Australian deserts will find that such savages cannot remain at rest when near, but are ever anxious to strip them by all means in their power of every thing. It was not until we proceeded as conquerors, that we knew any thing like tranquillity on the Darling; and I am now of opinion, that to discourage at once the approach of such natives, would tend more to the safety of an exploring party than presenting them with gifts.”
Mulligo’s Death.—The following curious account of the death of a certain native of Western Australia is given by Captain Grey. Mulligo, for such was the name of the unfortunate man, had severely hurt his spine by a fall from a tree, and having lost the use of his lower limbs, he gradually wasted away, until, in about two months’ time, he became a perfect skeleton, and was evidently dying. Soon after day-break, Captain Grey came to the hut of Mulligo, and found him alive indeed, but breathing so slightly that it was scarcely to be perceived. His head rested on his aged mother’s knees, who leaned over him in tears, while other women were seated around, their heads all verging to a common centre, over the wasted frame of the dying man; they were crying bitterly, and scratching their cheeks, foreheads, and noses, with their nails, until the blood trickled slowly from the wounds. The men, meanwhile, were preparing their spears for the fight, which was expected to take place respecting the two wives of Mulligo, the title of his heir being disputed. Other native females soon began to arrive in small parties, each one carrying her long stick in her hand, and each party marching slowly after the eldest woman belonging to it. When they came within about thirty or forty yards of the hut of the dying man, they raised the most piteous cries, and hurrying their pace, moved rapidly to the place where the other women were seated, recalling to the mind of one acquainted with the Bible, that custom alluded to by Jeremiah (chap. ix. 17, 18). As they came up to the bark hut, many of them struck it violently with their sticks, producing by the blow a dull hollow sound, and then, after joining the assembled circle, chanting mournfully the usual songs on these occasions. Then, suddenly, one of the women in a frenzy would start up, and standing in front of the hut, while she waved her stick violently in the air, would chant forth curses against the sorcerers, who, as she believed, had been the cause of Mulligo’s sufferings. It was strange to watch the effect of these wild chants upon the savage countenances of the men; one while they sat in mournful silence; again they grasped firmly and quivered their spears; and by and by a general “Ee-Ee,” pronounced in their throat, with the lips closed, burst forth in token of approbation at some affecting part of the speech.
Time wore on; each withered beldame by turns addressed the party, while the poor creature, whose dying moments were thus disturbed, was gradually sinking. At last he ceased to live, and at that moment an old woman started up, and with grief and rage, poured forth her curses upon the Boyl-yas, and tore the hut in which Mulligo had been lying to pieces, saying, “This is now no good.” Her proceedings excited the feelings of the men, and at last Moon-dee, the most violent of them, was on the point of spearing one of the wives of the deceased, but he was withheld by some of the women. The cause of Moon-dee’s anger was afterwards thus explained. About two or three months before this time, a cloak belonging to Mulligo’s brother had been stolen, and, it was supposed, given to one of the sorcerers, who gained thereby some mysterious power over either of the two brothers, which he had exercised on Mulligo, when he caused him to fall and injure his back. Another sorcerer was called in, who applied fire to the injured part, but without any success; and since the poor fellow was daily wasting away, it was imagined that the unfriendly sorcerers came every night to feast upon the invalid during his hours of sleep. But Moon-dee chose to fancy that if his wife had been more watchful, the Boyl-yas might have been detected, and therefore he intended to spear her in the leg, in order to punish her supposed neglect. This outrage was, however, prevented; and the two trembling partners of the deceased, neither of whom was above fifteen years old, fled into Perth, to find among Europeans a refuge from the violence of their own countrymen. After vowing vengeance against a great many of the sorcerers, though they had no proof whatever against any of these in particular, the men followed the widows to Perth, to see that no one stole them away; and a few only were left with the women to superintend the funeral.