THE
AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL

THE BUFFALO HUNTERS’ TRIUMPH

H. BASEDOW, pinx.

THE
AUSTRALIAN
ABORIGINAL

BY
HERBERT BASEDOW
M.A., M.D., Ph.D., B.Sc., F.G.S., etc.
SOMETIME CHIEF MEDICAL INSPECTOR AND CHIEF PROTECTOR OF ABORIGINES
IN THE NORTHERN TERRITORY; SPECIAL ABORIGINES’ COMMISSIONER
FOR THE FEDERAL AND STATE GOVERNMENTS; LOCAL CORRESPONDENT
ROYAL ANTHROPOLOGICAL INSTITUTE OF GREAT
BRITAIN AND IRELAND; HONORARY FELLOW ANTHROPOLOGICAL
SOCIETY OF GÖTTINGEN, ETC.

With 146 Illustrations

Adelaide:
F. W. PREECE AND SONS
1925

Registered by the Postmaster-General for
transmission through the post as a book.

Wholly set up and printed in Australia
at The Hassell Press, Adelaide.

TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER
ANNA CLARA HELENE BASEDOW

PREFACE

For some years past it had been my intention to write a progressive series of treatises on the Australian aboriginal, embodying observations as they were being made. As time wore on, however, my procrastination amassed so great a fund and so great a variety of notes that my original plan became impossible. The delay was not altogether through any fault of mine, but through a run of fortunate happenings which allowed me to spend the better part of every year in the great unbounded spaces of central and northern Australia, to live among the uncontaminated tribes, and to study Australian anthropology at the fountain head. It was through my repeated and prolonged absences from the city (and civilization in general) that I could not attend to the publication of any lengthy scientific papers.

Apart from my private and professional journeys, the following are some of the better known expeditions I have accompanied or led:

The Government North-West Expedition,

Government Expedition of Geological Exploration in the Northern Territory,

Cruise of the s.s. “White Star” under His Excellency Sir George Le Hunte, Governor of South Australia,

Mineralogical Survey of the Flinders Ranges,

Sir Joseph Verco’s Deep Sea Dredging Expeditions,

Exploration of Melville and Bathurst Islands,

Expedition in Search of Munition Minerals in the Northern Kimberleys of Western Australia, officially subsidized by the Premier (Hon. John Scaddan, M.P.),

Expedition in Search of Munition Minerals in Central Australia,

Three South Australian Medical Relief Expeditions among the Aborigines,

Expedition in Search of Reported Remains of Leichhardt, under auspices of S.A. Geographical Society,

Commonwealth Medical Survey of Aborigines in the Northern Territory,

Mararoa Geological Expedition from Darwin to Northern Kimberleys,

Viceregal Expedition to Central Australia, under His Excellency, Sir Tom Bridges, Governor of South Australia,

Commonwealth Railways Commissioner’s Journey from Mildura to Port Augusta, under Hon. P. G. Stewart and N. G. Bell, Esq.,

Expedition through the Interior of Australia, under His Excellency, the Earl of Stradbroke, Governor of Victoria.

During the terms that I held official positions, firstly as a State Geologist, and secondly as Chief Medical Officer and Chief Protector of Aborigines for the Commonwealth Government in the Northern Territory, opportunities were afforded me of continuing my investigations among the indigenous population of Australia; especially fruitful were my researches when, as a Special Aborigines’ Commissioner, I medically overhauled the tribes of South Australia and of the southern region of the Northern Territory.

In a more private capacity the southern districts and goldfields of Western Australia, the coastal and south-western districts of Queensland, and the north-western areas of New South Wales were traversed. Quite recently, too, a professional excursion to Java considerably enriched my knowledge of Melanesian ethnography and helped to explain the existence of several cults in the northern districts of Australia which border on the Indian Ocean.

On the other hand, not long before the war I continued study abroad and was privileged to be associated with the late Professor Hermann Klaatsch, under whose admirable guidance my researches were conducted in the Anatomical School of the University of Breslau. It will be apparent, therefore, why many of the results enumerated in the chapters dealing with the racial characteristics of the Australian aboriginal are based upon the doctrines of this eminent authority. In London Sir Arthur Keith courteously placed the whole of the valuable collections of Australian skulls and skeletons in the Hunterian Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons at my disposal; while Captain T. A. Joyce, in an equally generous way, facilitated my investigations in the anthropological galleries of the British Museum; I am taking advantage of this opportunity of expressing my sincere gratitude to these two gentlemen. I also desire to thank the Directors of the National and University Museums which I visited in France, Germany, Switzerland, and Holland, who so willingly responded to my enquiries and brought me into personal contact with any matters I was especially interested in.

While engaged upon one of my later commissions in central Australia, my duties took me to the Hermannsburg Mission Station on the Finke River, where for a fortnight I enjoyed the companionship of the Rev. Carl Strehlow and received every assistance in my researches among the western groups of the Arunndta tribe. Through the recent pathetic and heroic death of Strehlow, Science has lost an indefatigable and conscientious worker, and the aborigines a staunch and faithful friend.

In the present volume I have endeavoured to sift my subject matter in such a way as to keep the text in a suitable sequence and to make it of general interest. The principal difficulty has been to delete matter in order to keep down the bulk of the book. The latter remark applies equally well to the selection of illustrations; it was with a heavy heart that I found myself obliged to reduce the number of plates, all of which illustrated interesting points referred to in the text. Nevertheless, I feel that I am greatly indebted to the publisher, Mr. F. W. Preece, for allowing me to include so many more illustrations than he had originally counted upon.

Now that the manuscript is in the hands of the printer, I feel that there are several chapters I should like to have done more justice to; those, for instance, dealing with tribal organizations, initiation ceremonies, religious ideas, and art might have been considerably expanded if it had not been for the want of space. In those on religious ideas and art, I realize that I am launching in new directions so far as Australian anthropology is concerned, but I trust that the evidence which I have produced will be sufficient to prove that I did not arrive at the results too hastily, or, indeed, without deliberation and substantiation. Phallic worship had long been suspected in Australia, and some of our foremost authorities, such as the late R. Etheridge, Jun., were inclined to explain the occurrence of certain stones and other objects in the tribal areas of Australia (present or past) on that hypothesis. I came upon the evidence accidentally in 1916 in the form of a stone phallus erected in the ground at Success Strait in the far north-western corner of Australia. The stone was surrounded by a cleared cirque where much blood had been spilt at a recent ceremony. A few weeks later I for the first time witnessed an actual performance on the shores of Cambridge Gulf at which wooden phallus were produced. Since then I have been able to trace the existence of phallic worship of some form or other in several districts of central and northern Australia, an outline of which appears in a subsequent chapter. I trust that the facts I have been able to collect may help to illumine the somewhat doubtful question of how an aboriginal looks upon the process of procreation. Phallicism is closely related to such forms of Nature worship as are practised in order to make any species of animal or plant proliferate, or, for that matter, to bring down a shower of rain in times of drought. The phallus might gradually merge into a tjuringa. The painted “Ngadanji” and “Ilbarinam” tjuringas of the Arunndta tribe are regarded as images of the reproductive organ of a spirit which can generate life; in that sense they might be classed as phallus. I find that ancestor worship is generally indulged in; it is difficult at times to distinguish between an original spirit ancestor and a deity, but a Supreme Spirit or Deity is believed to exist and to rule over all creation.

With regard to totemism, I have shown the beliefs in a manner slightly different from those hitherto recorded. The mystical relationship between individual and object is traced to a mythical semi-human forerunner which was common to both and is now a spirit. The Arunndta call the spirit “Knaninja.” The animal or plant relative of an individual is what has been commonly called the “totem” in Australian ethnology, while the symbolic representation of this object, which becomes the crest of the individual, corresponds to the “kobong” first described by Sir George Grey. Emblematic representations of both the “totemic” object and of the Knaninja are embodied in the tjuringa of the individual.

The essay on art, it will be observed, has been written on evolutional lines with respect to both technique and design. It will be understood that the material upon which the conclusions are based was collected in many parts of Australia and during many years of travel. The cults in question are in many cases distributed all over the continent, but occasionally are quite local. As an instance of the latter kind, I mention the famous drawings recorded by Sir George Grey, some of which I was fortunate in being able to locate and study on the Glenelg River in the far north-west. I might mention that, with very few exceptions, the designs appearing in the book as text figures are actual tracings reduced by photography to a size in keeping with the dimensions of the page. There is no doubt that primitive art in Australia is a fascinating study which has not received the attention it merits; and unfortunately it is rather late in the day to think of making a start. The system of conventionalism derived from the numerous pictographs and carvings is the basis of all characters and messages one finds on sticks, stones, and persons; it is the only key to an understanding of sacred tjuringa symbols. We have for too long looked upon aboriginal designs as meaningless, and upon aboriginal art production as being idle concoctions out of nothing which were invented just to make a thing “look pretty.” This is anything but the true position. An aboriginal artist knows no such thing as a design without motive or origin; to him the shortest line or the smallest circle conveys a thought. In the chapter dealing with stone implements, I have, among other things, described a new type of scraper which was used by the now extinct Adelaide tribe for trimming skins of animals.

The article on language is not intended to be at all comprehensive; my main object was to give a general idea of the construction, together with a few examples of the idiomatic uses, of the aboriginal tongue. I hope at a later date to be able to present a complete account of the Arunndta and Aluridja dialects, including the syntactical rules and grammatical forms.

I have to offer an apology to any authors who may claim priority to some of the facts which I mention in this book. I have written this account of the Australian aboriginal without attempting to consult previous literature, for the simple reason that, had I started looking up all necessary references, the volume might never have been completed. My time at headquarters has been so limited during the last fifteen years that, in the absence of a library near at hand, it was impossible for me to adopt any other method than to write up my observations at first-hand and run the risk of a certain amount of trespass. Nevertheless, I trust that the authors so affected will realize that there was no slight intended and will treat my transgression in the spirit of independent corroboration.

Our knowledge of Australian ethnology is so meagre that every man who has had first-hand experience among the tribes should consider it his bounden duty to place on record any facts he possesses, however trivial they may be. Every year the number of people who have seen the unsophisticated savage is dwindling. When I look back to the time of my first meeting with the tribes of central Australia, just twenty years ago, and compare the conditions of then and now, I shudder to think how quickly the romance of aboriginal affairs, together with all the scientific treasures it encompassed, has vanished, and is now irretrievably lost to the world. The rising generation will not have the advantage of men of even our time. Bones, stone artefacts, and wooden implements will remain in our museums for ever, but the habits, laws, beliefs, and legends are doomed to rapid extinction.

I do not claim to be an initiated member of any tribe. To be candid, I several times tried to qualify by impressive exhibitions of surgical skill and exaggerated munificence, but, although I gained the confidence and goodwill of the old men, I was informed that I could only be accepted provided I passed through the different grades of initiation and submitted to the attendant mutilations in the orthodox way. The medicine men, however, usually claimed me as a “Kata” or colleague, and allowed me to witness most of their rituals and sacred ceremonies, which they carefully explained to me. In this way I was able, also, to secure a very great series of photographs depicting intimate scenes from aboriginal life, many of which are unique. The only photographs illustrating this book which were not taken by me are those reproduced in Plates [XLVIII] and [XLIX]; for these I am indebted to the late Mr. Nicholas Holtze.

I could not allow this opportunity to pass without making brief reference to the causes of the early extinction which is threatening these inoffensive, useful, and scientifically important people. We have only to cast our eyes in the direction of any wave of settlement to behold the disastrous effects our occupation of the land has had on the natives. Take, for instance, the Lake Eyre region, which embraces the Dieri, Yantowannta, Ngameni, and Yauroworka tribes. Official reports show that only forty years ago the population was so dense that the white settlers asked for greater police protection; the four tribes mentioned numbered many thousands. During a recent survey on behalf of the Government, I could barely muster three hundred wretched and decrepit souls in this region, who, literally speaking, were waiting for a lingering death to relieve them of their misery. We content ourselves by saying that civilization is the cause of the increased mortality, no doubt a plausible but very vague explanation. As a result of my investigations, I venture the opinion that the factor which has wrought the greatest havoc among the tribes is disease. The principal scourges are syphilis, pulmonary tuberculosis, and trachoma. Unless we realize the obligations which rest on our shoulders and give our natives a medical protection similar to the successful measures adopted by the United States, Canada, and New Zealand, they will continue to vanish and soon be classed as an extinct race.

H. BASEDOW.

Kent Town, South Australia, 2nd November, 1924.

CONTENTS

LIST OF PLATES

LIST OF FIGURES IN THE TEXT

CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION TO AN AUSTRALIAN TRIBE

The lonely bush of Australia—The silence is broken—A mysterious call-note—A human figure in the distance—Coo-ee!—A voluntary but cautious escort—The official approach and salutation—Friendship established—Tribal introductions.

Let us imagine that we are travelling with a caravan over a lonely tract of ground, in a remote district of the Australian bush, which has not been contaminated by any disturbing influence of our civilization. In consequence of the serenity and the deserted aspect of the scene around us, we would be wondering whether the place holds any mortal creatures but our party. We might even have resigned ourselves to the inevitable desolation.

Suddenly the spell is broken by a faint sound falling upon our ears—a long-drawn, shrill, yet melodious note—then all is silent again.

What could it have been? We are in doubt as to whether this was the call of a bird or animal, or a phenomenon unknown to us; being so far away from any centre of industry, a locomotive or factory whistle is quite out of the question. Eagerly we wait for a possible repetition of the singular sound.

Soon, indeed, it comes again; and, with the attentiveness our expectation has solicited, we now recognize the human character of the note. Presently it is repeated, then again, and yet again. But where does it come from? So far we know not.

In the meantime we continue forging through the sand, and, being now on the alert, we in due course espy, in the direction whence the sound is coming, but a considerable distance off, a slim, dark figure gliding from the cover of a rock to that of a bush. Presently it again shows itself a short distance on; and our attention is further attracted by the appearance of one or two other dark bodies running from cover to cover in a line parallel to our course.

The calling is continued at frequent intervals; and, as near as we can represent it by our alphabet, it sounds like the word “Coy!” with the “y” specially emphasized and spun out. One has no difficulty in recognizing in this call-note, which is met with all over Australia, the derivation of the familiar “Coo-ee!”

It is, of course, assumed that we in no way betray a feeling of uneasiness or give these dusky fellows the impression that we are preparing for hostilities. Having satisfied themselves in respect of this, and after manoeuvring for a considerable time in the manner described, our uninvited escort become more trusting, even daring. They run or walk for longer distances away from cover and gradually bring their line of travelling closer in to ours. When eventually they realize that we seem more like friend than foe, they drop behind our caravan, and, at a measured distance, in our trail. Whenever we move, they move, and when we stop, they stop. If any of our party go towards them, they turn to the side and cleverly disappear into the bush ([Plate I]).

When we have arrived at the end of our day’s journey and camp, they pull up short and squat for a while; although it may not appear so to the inexperienced traveller, they are taking stock of all our doings.

Before very long, two men stand up and beckon to a small boy among their party, who immediately jumps to his feet and walks to a place in front of his elders. Each of the men now holds one of his hands upon the lad’s shoulder, and, in that position, the little group moves towards our camp.

In the hands not so used, both men are now seen to be carrying small branches of Cassia bush, which they occasionally lift towards us. Thus they walk to within fifty or sixty paces of our encampment and again squat on the ground, arranging themselves in the same order as they walked in. It is apparent they want us to approach them; and we do so.

Statuary could not be more rigid than the persons we behold, upon arriving at the little group. They sit silently, with downcast eyes, and it is not until we address them that they rise to their feet. The old men, for such we now recognize them to be, start a meek conversation, nervously pushing the boy towards us. We are informed that this is an uninitiated boy, a child in fact, a piccaninny in the tribal relationship of son to the speakers. We are implored not to hurt this innocent being, and to extend that friendship to themselves and to all the members of the tribe. It is pointed out that they are unarmed and that this is the guarantee of their goodly intentions towards us, the unknown wanderers.

The men now advance and pat us on the chest, and instinctively we return the compliment—for such it is intended to be—which is akin to any ordinary European method of salutation. The bonds of friendship have thus been sealed, and the men continue to jabber profusely on the more intricate tribal relationships existing between themselves and the rest of their party.

When the genealogical explanations have been concluded, the men turn towards their company, who are still squatting in the distance, and call aloud to them to come along: “Pitchai, ngalla pitchai, waipella tami pu!” which in the Wongapitcha dialect stands for “Come along, the white fellow is good.” The invitation is quickly responded to, and ere many minutes have passed the whole group has arrived, which includes other men as well as women and children. The new arrivals, without hesitation, and with seeming confidence, join in the conversation.

So this is our introduction to the aboriginal, the primitive hunting man of Australia, and his family!

Fig. 1. Map of Australia showing geographical distribution of tribes.

PLATE I

Wordaman natives on the march.

“... they drop behind our caravan, and, at a measured distance, in our trail.”

CHAPTER II
RACIAL CHARACTERISTICS

Straightness of figure—Angular contours—Absence of fatty tissue—Nature’s economy—Abnormal obesity—Straight spinal column—Flat and long dorsal curve—Ensellure—Strong cervical curve—Uniformity of sacro-lumbar curve—Flexibility of spine due to thick cartilaginous discs—Racial comparisons between length of vertebræ and that of intervertebral discs—Influence of upright attitude—Smallness of bones composing the spinal column and the explanation—Exceptions to rule—Narrow sacral bone—Peculiarities of fifth lumbar vertebra—Long extremities of equal length—Foot suggests tree-climbing—Evolution of foot—So-called “hand-footed” men—Feet used for lifting and carrying purposes—Function of peroneus muscle—Flatfoot rare—Correct placement of foot when walking—Tree-climbing and its effects—Peculiarity of Tasmanian’s foot—The shape and skeleton of lower limbs—“Boomerang” legs—Shoulder and arm bones—Bodily height of male and female.

Let us study these interesting-looking people more closely and endeavour to find out their characteristic features, and in what respects they differ from ourselves. At the same time, let us in passing ascertain to what degree they resemble us and other peoples, past or present, and what peculiarities they might share with the man-apes or lower forms of the animal kingdom.

What immediately appeals to our critical eye is the strong contrast in the general outline of the figure when we compare it with our own. The round, full contours and shapely exterior of the European are replaced by an angularity and straightness in the aboriginal. The surface-padding or, more correctly, the subcutaneous deposition of fatty tissue, which makes the lines and curves of our bodies so uniform—and the female figure so beautiful—is, to a large extent, the result of long selective culture and of the comforts which civilized life has brought with it. In the case of the aboriginal, however, the forethought of Nature has not allowed the development of such paddings of fat to any considerable amount; they would only tend to impede the agility of the hardy desert roamer. He does not need a thick layer of fat beneath his skin. From an artistic point of view, the leanness of his body is quite becoming to himself. He lives in a country whose climate is hot, and his healthy hunting-life makes him immune from many of the ills to which the city dweller is heir. As a reserve storage of heat and nourishment, therefore, which might be called upon to aid his physiological constitution in times of need, the quantity of superfluous fat can safely be reduced to a minimum. Nature has given enough, but not a measure in excess. Thus, without any indication of unhealthy emaciation, the integumentary accumulation of fat is so scant that parts of the internal anatomy of an aboriginal can readily be deciphered topographically. We can follow the shape of the superficial muscles and of the skeleton, and can palpate the outline of the abdominal organs with comparative ease. Although the muscles are small, they are, nevertheless, strong, firm, and wiry; this is particularly noticeable in the extremities.

It is a curious fact, however, that there is a natural predisposition in the aboriginal to produce fatty tissue once he gives up his active hunting career, like a sportsman out of training, and to develop a perceptible obesity when he lives under conditions which supply him daily with an abundance of nourishment. Under such circumstances, which are of course abnormal and only brought about by European influence, his skin is very apt to accumulate locally masses of fat known medically as lipomas. The Arunndta natives call these tumours “lurra,” and connect their appearance upon their bodies with heavy weight-carrying. It is, indeed, a noteworthy fact that these fatty tumours frequently occur upon the shoulders of aboriginal wood-carriers, who are in the habit of collecting logs of timber for camp or station purposes.

Associated with the angularity and flatness of the bodily form, we notice, when looking upon the figure of an aboriginal in profile, and comparing it with that of an European in a similar position, a straightness of the spine. If, for instance, we were to make an accurate drawing of the spinal curvatures of the two subjects shown in [Plate II], we would find that the line representing the spinal column of the aboriginal gin would be very straight in the centre of the back, that is, in the dorsal segment; in fact it would be found that the dorsal curve is very slight. Careful comparisons have been made with frozen corpses of different races and the man-apes, bisected in the mesial plane, and it has been determined that this portion of the spine is flatter in the Australian aboriginal than in any other race of man; and indeed it is flatter than in the chimpanzee. Moreover, a larger number of vertebræ are involved in the dorsal curve of the Australian than there are in the other cases.

In the European subject of our illustration—a young Australian lady—the lumbo-sacral curve, known usually as the ensellure, is unusually prominent.

If now we examine the curvature of that portion of the backbone which constitutes the neck, we shall find it less pronounced in the European but strongly developed in the Australian aboriginal.

But perhaps the greatest difference between the two types is the manner in which the curvature breaks from the lumbar to the sacral portions of the spine. In the European this break is sharp and angular; in the Australian it is very gradual on account of a peculiar oblique position of the last lumbar vertebra. Should we, again, extend our observation to the chimpanzee, we would find that a number of the sacral vertebræ are included in the lumbar curve. Consequently the aboriginal’s spine seems to occupy an interesting position in which the last lumbar vertebra stands almost as a connecting link between the lumbar curve above and the sacral curve immediately below it.

The lumbar curve is greater in the European than in the Australian, but it is decidedly greater in the chimpanzee. The difference in curvature is brought about mainly by the discs of cartilage which exist between the vertebræ, and that is why there is a considerable movement possible in the lumbar portion of the spine of the lower races of man; and it is quite possible that the lumbar curvature alters according to the position adopted by the individual, that is, according to whether he be in a standing or in his favourite squatting posture. In the European the corresponding portion of the spine is much more rigid.

The proportional lengths of cervical, dorsal, and lumbar spinal sections are much the same in both European and Australian, but there are considerable differences in the two spines so far as the proportions of the bony vertebræ and the intervertebral discs of cartilage are concerned, especially in the lumbar region. The lumbar vertebræ of the European are shorter than are those of the Australian, and the latter again are shorter than those of the man-apes. In other words, the lengths of the bones, which build up the lumbar portion of the spinal column, increase (i.e. in proportion to the size of the column as a whole) as one passes from the most highly cultured European through the primitive human stages, like the aboriginal of Australia, to the anthropoid apes, and finally to the lower types of monkeys. At the same time, as the length of the vertebræ increases, a reduction in the thickness of the cartilaginous discs takes place.

There is no doubt this phenomenon depends to some extent upon the acquisition of the upright attitude by man, since the cartilage between the bone acts as an effective shock-absorber—the percussion produced by the impact of the heel against the ground when walking being reduced before it reaches the brain. When the brain-box does not rest immediately above the point of percussion, as for instance in the semi-erect posture of the apes, the dangers of concussion are not so great.

While we are discussing the vertebral column of the Australian aboriginal, we might draw attention to the comparative smallness of the bones composing it. If we were, for instance, to compare the column of an Australian with that of a European of similar height, we would find that the vertebræ of the former are appreciably the smaller—their volumes being almost in the ratio of one to one-and-a-half. This is the more striking since we shall learn later that the Australian aboriginal often is quite as tall in stature as the European. The skeleton of the African negro, on the other hand, is decidedly more massive than that of the European.

The smallness of the bones composing the vertebral column undoubtedly favours the flexibility and agility which characterize the Australians as a hunting people. There are, it is true, certain variations in the structure of the spinal column of the Australian, which seem to contradict this general rule, as, for instance, a slightly stronger development of the vertebræ of the neck and a greater volume of the lumbar vertebral bones in the female. The former of these features is no doubt a primitive characteristic throwing back to the quadrupedal ancestry of the human species, the latter having to do with the processes of birth.

The sacral bone at the lower end of the vertebral column varies slightly in size, but is, generally speaking, much narrower than that of the European or of any other living race. It is principally on this account that the hip-bones of the Australians seem remarkably close together in both sexes.

The fifth lumbar vertebra of the Australian often exhibits certain sacral characters, which remind one of the orang outang; in that anthropoid the fifth lumbar bone is often fused to the os sacrum and in reality becomes the first sacral body. Occasionally this vertebra is asymmetrical, being normal, i.e. lumbar, on the one side and sacral on the other. Its posterior arch is at times wanting, the spines having failed to join, as ordinarily they do, in a median line behind the main body of the bone. The last named feature is, however, not infrequently observed in the skeletons of other races as well.

Another very striking feature, connected with the anatomy of the Australian, is the great length of his arms and legs. This length of extremities is taken in a conjoint sense, and with regard to the height of the individual. The aboriginal is often said to have very much longer arms than legs. This is incorrect. In point of fact, no human type is known, living or fossil, with such a disproportion in the limbs. All types of mankind, individually considered, have arms and legs more or less equal in length; from this original condition the elongated arms, so typical of apes, have evolved, by secondary processes, in all probability through the acquisition of arboreal habits. There is, of course, no doubt that the length of the extremities, both upper and lower, so characteristic of the Australian, together with the relative slenderness of the vertebræ, points to an early evolutional stage, which was common to the ancestral forms of both man and ape. The monkey has brought tree-climbing to such a degree of perfection that it practically lives in the branches. Primitive man, too, has not neglected the art, and, although the normal proportions of his extremities do not directly suggest tree-climbing, there is another development which does, especially in the Australian; and that is his foot.

When we consider the likely transformations which the human foot has undergone from an original hand-like form, resembling that of certain monkeys and lower primates, to its present condition, we shall find that two processes have been at work in the modelling of this important part of man’s anatomy. Firstly, the big toe (originally a thumb) has taken up a position adjacent to that of the next digit (originally an index finger), and, by lying in the same plane with it, has forfeited its power of opposition. Secondly, the big toe has grown appreciably stronger, while the other digits have become smaller and weaker. That the big toe, in its ancient evolution, once stood in the same relation to the other toes as the thumb does to the fingers of the hand, is evident from the arrangement of the blood-vessels and nerves in this part of the foot, corresponding exactly to that of the hand, even though the gap originally existing between the first and second digits has been filled by fleshy tissue.

It is of considerable scientific interest to note that cases are occasionally observed among the Australian tribes in which indications of this ancestral condition are retained. In the [Fig. 2] we see the feet of an aboriginal of the Berringin tribe in the north of Australia, whose big toes are remarkable for their shortness when compared with the second.

Fig. 2. Peculiar “hand-like” feet of the Berringin tribesmen. Tracing from a photograph.

It is, of course, a well-known fact that the newly-born European baby possesses a wonderful mobility in its feet; and such might also be acquired by people who have lost their arms; but the wearing of boots usually deprives modern nations of this freedom of movement. The aborigines of Australia make frequent use of their toes. A considerable lateral flexibility of the end phalanges enables them to lift small objects off the ground between the big and second toes. Spears are carried by warriors, between the toes of either foot, to conceal the weapons in the grass; and so the enemy is led to believe that the men are unarmed.

When collecting firewood, the gins never stoop to pick up the pieces, but lift them with their toes to the level of their hands. The hands then pile the fuel upon the head and hold it there until sufficient has been collected to carry back to camp.

The power of being able to use the toes in the manner described depends upon the development of a muscle, which arising from the outer side of the fibula and terminating in a long tendon, passes obliquely across the sole of the foot, to insert itself into the metatarsal bone of the great toe. This is the long peroneus muscle, the function of which, in the monkeys at any rate, is to keep the big toe in opposition. In man, moreover, this muscle helps considerably to maintain the arch of the foot. Flatfoot is eminently rare among the aborigines; only one or two cases have come under observation.

When walking, the aboriginal carries his foot so that it points directly ahead of him, and not, as has been written, “with his toes well turned out.” If anything, the sole of the foot is slightly tilted so that the outer border touches the ground a little in advance of the ball.

There is no doubt the outer surface and the ball of the foot play an important role in the art of tree-climbing, as it is practised by the Australians and other primitive peoples. Several methods are in vogue; they will be described later. Suffice it, for the time being, to refer to one: In pursuit of small marsupials, young birds, honey, nuts, fruits, or any other things good to eat, the aboriginal often has occasion to ascend the tall smooth trunks of trees, which harbour such articles in abundance. This is done, often without the aid of any implement, in the following way: The hunter faces the tree and applies the palms of his hands to the opposite side of the butt. As he tightens his hold with his fingers, he springs from the ground and clutches the butt between the soles of his feet. The arches adjust themselves to the convexity of the trunk, whilst the pressure of the outer edges and balls of the feet prevent the limbs from slipping. In this posture, the hunter is virtually hanging by his arms, which are hooked by the hands, and is sitting upon his heels, which are fixed firmly against the tree, as described. Holding his head well back between the shoulder-blades, he suddenly lifts his body upwards with his thighs, while his hands, momentarily relaxing their hold, are pushed upwards also. Now the fingers again tightly clasp the trunk, and the feet are quickly lifted and tucked under the buttocks, to again support the weight of the body as before. The same actions are repeated, time after time, and it is not long before the climber reaches the nearest branches, when progress is simplified. Vide [Plate XIX], 2.

PLATE II

Comparison of European with Aboriginal figure.

“We notice, when looking upon the figure of an aboriginal in profile, and comparing it with that of an European in a similar position, a straightness of the spine.”

This ancient custom of tree-climbing is not peculiar to the Australians, but is adopted by most primitive races. It is very probable, too, that the prehistoric races were to a large extent arboreal, and made use of similar methods of tree-climbing. When considering the evolution of the human foot, therefore, we will have to remember that it has been to some extent influenced by the tree-climbing factor, which, indeed, must be considered in the light of a forerunning stage in the acquisition of the upright attitude by man.

In this primitive method of ascending trees, by which the head is thrown so far behind, we see also a likely explanation of the greater cervical curvature we have noticed in the aboriginal’s spine, when one compares it with the European’s. We might even venture to say that these processes originally brought about the lumbar curvature, and thereby laid the foundation to the acquisition of the erect posture, by means of which man learned to balance his head upon the vertical spinal column. Then the foot, which had been to a great extent modelled through his arboreal activities, stood man in good stead, and he began to walk erect between the trees.

The foot skeleton of the Tasmanian shows a peculiarity, in which it differs from that of the Australian on the mainland. Under normal conditions, the heel-bone of the Australian, and of the European as well, has a small elongation or process on the anterior side which separates the two adjoining small bones, the cuboid and the talus, from each other. But in the case of the Tasmanian the two small bones named lie in juxtaposition. This phenomenon is only occasionally noticed in Australian skeletons, and is quite exceptional in European; it is abnormal even in the anthropoids.

The Australian’s legs are often the subject of comment, if not ridicule; they are so thin and lanky. Even when the proportions of the chest and trunk as a whole are good, the legs usually remain unshapely. Even under the best of conditions, there is a paucity of flesh both in thigh and calf; the lower portions of the limbs are in the true sense of the word spindle-shanks.

Even the gluteal musculature is only moderately developed. Sedentary life and cosmetic culture seem to have been the principal factors at work in shaping this region in the modern European. Monkeys, on the other hand, show no considerable gluteal development at all. It would appear, therefore, that tree-climbing has not played a great role in developing these muscles, but seems rather to have influenced the growth of the deltoid muscle, which extends from the upper arm to the shoulder-blade and collar-bone, and of the big pectoral muscle.

The thigh-bone, although it is slender, like the rest of the long bones of the Australian, is abruptly dilated at its epiphyses, and, in that respect, differs considerably from the European femur, which widens gradually towards the extremities, in trumpet fashion. The Australian’s thigh-bone is more like the Neanderthal type, but the smallness of its head at once distinguishes it from the fossil. The slenderness of the shaft, together with the relative smallness of the condyles, brings the Australian femur nearer to the Pithecanthropus. Generally speaking, this bone is stronger in the Tasmanian than in the Australian.

One occasionally finds a strongly developed ridge or process in the upper portion of the Australian femur, which has been styled the third trochanter. At the lower extremity, the smooth depression on the anterior surface of the bone, between its condyles, is deep in the Australian and Tasmanian, and in that respect resembles the Neanderthal femur. The superior margin of the hyaline cartilage covering this depression is variable, and occasionally far exceeds the average European limit.

Among certain tribes of central and southern Australia, the tibia is often peculiarly flattened laterally, like a sword, whilst the anterior edge of the bone is remarkably prominent. This condition is known as platycnemia and has also been observed, quite frequently, in the skeletons of the extinct men of Europe and Egypt, and in the Negroid and Polynesian races.

Occasionally this platycnemic condition is associated with an exaggerated curvature of the anterior edge of the bone, a phenomenon which Dr. E. C. Stirling has described as camptocnemia. The popular name for it among bushmen is “Boomerang-Leg”; in some cases the tibia certainly has quite as large a curvature as some of the least bent of the familiar throwing sticks have.

In attempting to offer an explanation for this remarkable phenomenon, it is at the outset difficult to say to what extent it might be pathological, that is, the direct result of some constitutional disorder, like rickets, from which the individual, in whose shin-bone the curvature appears, might be suffering.

A theory has, however, been advanced to the effect that, since the anterior ridge of the bone represents part of the surface from which the tibialis posticus muscle arises, and since this muscle effects the adduction of the foot, when a person is walking, it is feasible that the altered shape and the increased bulk of the tibia may be due to that factor. The Australians, like other primitive hunters, are possessed of an astounding endurance when running down wounded game.

Dr. Ramsay Smith points out that there may be a connection between a platycnemic condition and the peculiar method the Australians have of lifting things from the ground with their toes, by which the tibialis posticus muscle is specially involved.

The fibula of the Australian is straight, and, especially in the case of the female Tasmanian, often has the end adjacent to the knee, which is known as its head or capitulum, prolongated in an extraordinary manner. This feature is of morphological interest because it harks back to a primitive condition in the evolution of the knee, in which the long bone of the lower extremity played a more important part in the action of the joint than it nowadays does in the human species.

In male Tasmanians the shoulder-blade is of considerable length, and its apparent narrowness is primarily due to the elongation of the infra-spinous fossa.

The humerus of the Australian shows a very small torsion, the angle being less than in any other human type. A foramen is not infrequently observed between the condyles of this bone. The Tasmanian humerus possesses a peculiar, laterally convex curve; and its internal condyle is often much enlarged.

PLATE III

1. Colossal brow-ridge, Arunndta man.

2. Supra-orbital prominence, deep notch at root of nose, prognathism (Tasmanoid features), and female beard, Denial Bay tribeswoman.

As with ourselves, the bodily height of the Australian varies considerably, even within one and the same tribe. No great racial importance can on that account be placed upon statistical data in respect of height. The tallest individual I know of was a man of Yarrabah, near Cairns, in Queensland, who stood seven feet four inches high.[1] Some of the smallest men I have ever seen lived in the Tomkinson Ranges in Central Australia, who barely measured four feet six inches in height; yet among the same tribe were many men who stood over six feet. The smallest gin, the mother of two children, who has come under my observation, measured four feet five-and-a-half inches. She lived in the Katherine River district. We might claim from five feet four-and-a-half inches to five feet six inches as a reasonable average height for the male, and about five feet for the female.

[1] Measured by the Rev. E. R. Gribble.

CHAPTER III
THE BREAST AND ABDOMEN

The female breast—Aboriginal ideas of shapeliness—Traditional cultivation by ceremonial—Prevalent shapes—Artificially induced lactation—The abdominal region—“Pot-belly”—The sign of surfeiting as well as of malnutrition—Living skeletons—Starvation a justifiable cause of cannibalism.

The female breast varies much in size and consistency, according to the age and physical (and physiological) condition of the individual. As in most matters that concern the aboriginal, his utilitarian inclination outweighs his æsthetic instincts, even to the extent that he regards the breast of his gin simply as that part of her “flesh,” which at the required period contains or produces the nutrient “water,” necessary for the rearing of his progeny. No breast, no matter how firm and classically hemispherical it might be in our estimation, would appeal to the aboriginal on account of its shapeliness. To him the voluminous, pendant, udder-like form, which can comfortably be handed over the gin’s shoulder, or under her arm, to the babe riding upon her back, would seem the orthodox and perfect creation. Indeed, among most of the tribes the husbands endeavour to attain that type both by magical incantation and by actual manipulation.

When the hour arrives that signs of adolescence first manifest themselves in a girl, her future husband, to whom she has long been assigned (perhaps even entirely speculatively, on the chance of the sex, before ever she was born), sets about to conjure up her feminine qualities. He may be, and usually is, joined by other men, to whom tribal law has by descent given claim to periodic domestic privileges approaching those of the marital relationships which are to exist between the individual husband and his gin.

Without advertisement, the tender novice is quietly coaxed away from camp by the men, who, by talking kindly to her, have no need to apply coercion. At no great distance they halt, and the future husband anoints the areas surrounding both nipples, which are likely to bulge forth as the future breasts, with grease; the anointed areas are then covered with a layer of red ochre. Whilst this is taking place, all present sing to the budding milk-gland, first softly, then vehemently, and with ceremony. During the performance on the North Coast, the female dugong, whose motherly devotion to her young is a recognised virtue, is frequently alluded to.

The painted areolas are frequently charmed by touching them with a magic stone, and at intervals the enchanters bring an anointed circle into contact with their lips, as if endeavouring to draw the nipple forwards, that it might grow.

Ultimately the girl is told to return to the women, who take her on a food-collecting expedition; during her absence from camp, it is quite possible that the signs of approaching maturity may become more definite.

The aboriginal breast begins to grow at an earlier age than the European, on an average at about the tenth year. Neglecting for the present the different phases in its development, from the puerile papilla through various shapes, depending upon the growth of the milk-gland and the deposition of fat about it, one type of breast is typical of early adult life, that is the pear-shaped form. In this type, especially in its earliest stages, the secondary bulge beneath the nipple often fuses imperceptibly with the basal hemisphere, so that a conoid shape results. In older women, the breasts at times assume extraordinarily large dimensions, especially when the individual is inclined to be on the well-nourished side. In very old gins, who have born and reared a number of children, the shape disappears entirely, the breasts becoming mere flaps of skin. A full dry breast is the exception rather than the rule; only in youthful cases, who have not become mothers, do we meet with firm and standing breasts. In later life, the inevitable sagging and attenuation are materially increased by a child in arms which, as the mother plies and looks for food, secures itself by firmly clasping one or both of its parent’s breasts.

The breast is situated a little more laterally in the aboriginal than in the European; and in the former case it is also lower and more nearly mid-way between shoulder level and umbilicus. One often finds the breasts of one and the same individual unsymmetrically developed ([Plate IV], 1).

In connection with the female breast, I have a somewhat remarkable case of artificially induced lactation to record from the Alligator Rivers district. The mother of an infant of tender years having died, a younger sister of the deceased, who had no children, volunteered to adopt the helpless mite. The foster-mother diligently treated her breasts with a pulp she made by mashing Eugenia leaves with ashes and sufficient water to make a paste; and heated stones were placed over the breasts at frequent intervals. The mammary glands and their surrounding tissues were at every opportunity plied with the fingers, and the babe’s lips were as often put to the nipples. Within a short time, fluid formed in the breasts; and the child was suckled. The fluid was said to have been more watery than milk, but, nevertheless, made good nourishment for the child. This case is by no means unique. A number of records are available from different parts of the world, the most classical among which is perhaps that mentioned by Alexander von Humboldt of a South American man who sustained a child on his breast for five months during the illness of his wife.

In the Australian, the belly is flatter, the pudendum if anything, slightly more anterior, and the inguinal folds decidedly steeper than in the European.

One frequently has an opportunity, however, of observing a youngster with a remarkably big abdomen, a condition known in the bush by the name of “pot-belly.” Such a picture might point to either plenty or to want. In good seasons, when animal and vegetable diet is to be had in abundance, the younger children soon acquire a “pot-belly” in consequence of ample feeding and gorging. But, on the other hand, a distended abdomen is more often found in consequence of malnutrition and starvation, which the children have to suffer during bad seasons of drought. The distention in this case is due to the swelling of some of the large abdominal glands.

The same sufferings manifest themselves similarly in the adults, and particularly in the aged. Among the latter one only too often finds hungering creatures whose flesh has wasted away to a mere parchment wrapped around the bones, living skeletons in fact. In these cases, too, enlarged glands give rise to an unhealthy nodular protuberance in the epigastric region.

Can one wonder if, under such conditions, a kindly club, wielded by a more robust relative, puts the sufferer out of his misery? It is during these trying times, too, that parents are obliged to resort to extreme measures, so that they might sustain the lives of their children. Driven to the verge of despair, and visibly moved at the thought of it, a father must occasionally make the pathetic and gruesome decision to slay one child in order that another may be saved.

On account of his acting thus, when dire need compels him, people, who should know better, often call the Australian aboriginal a cannibal! Is this cannibalism? Have not shipwrecked people of our own colour, when in a similar plight, often been compelled to kill and eat one of their friends to save themselves from starvation?

CHAPTER IV
THE FACE AND ITS SKELETON

Fierceness of expression—European-like features—The eyes—Colossal brow-ridges—The iris—An unusual colour—The eye-sockets—The nose and its aperture—Natural and artificial flatness—“Primitive snout”—Prognathism—“Negative chins”—The ear.

When we look an aboriginal in the face, the first impression it gives us is that of wildness and fierceness amounting often to repulsiveness. There are, of course, appreciable differences between different individuals, and often during a day’s journey one encounters features which might be classed as decidedly pleasing and almost European. We might even go so far as to say that in some faces, especially those of the old women, we might feel inclined to establish an analogy with classical or historical types of our own colour. Such descriptions, however, convey no more to the person who has never seen an aboriginal than a statement like one, often heard, to the effect that the features are of the “usual Australian type.”

In order to arrive at a little more exact description of the facial appearance, let us assume that the individual we are considering possesses all of the “Australian” features, and let us analyze each of them separately. At the same time, we must remember that probably no single individual exists in whom all of these characteristics are present.

To help us better understand the various points we are about to introduce, it will be advisable, whenever possible, to draw into the discussion the morphological peculiarities of the bony skeleton and skull, which immediately underlie the fleshy parts of the face and head.

There is no doubt the eyes of an aboriginal largely account for the wild appearance of his countenance, already alluded to. These organs are deeply sunken in their sockets, which lie beneath a projecting bony roof and bushy eyebrows. Nature in this way protects the eyes against the scorching rays of the southern sun by an effective screen, which lies above and before them like the peak of a cap. For that matter, we ourselves often instinctively endeavour to obtain a similar protection, when we stare into a glaring light, by holding a hand against the brows. Within the scope of this protection comes also, so far as the aboriginal is concerned, prevention, to a certain degree, of such accidental harm as might be caused by stakes or brushwood, during an exciting hunt through bush or forest land. The strong colour-contrast of the sclera against the swarthy skin, and the active, searching movements of the eyes, considerably help to intensify the sullen look.

In the fossil men of Gibraltar and Neanderthal, too, the eyes were overlain by very massive, bony ridges, but in those people the eyes stood further forward.

The supraorbital region is unquestionably one of the most prominent, and at the same time most striking, features of the Australian aboriginal’s face. The high degree of development of the bony prominence, combined with a sloping forehead, are primitive characteristics which he shares with no other living race. Yet it is possible for a cultured people, like for instance the Europeans, with high forehead, at times to show a strong superciliary development. As opposed to this, one not infrequently discovers an Australian with strong brow-ridges combined with a comparatively full and steep forehead. But usually the area occupied by these bony prominences can be differentiated, from the forehead above it, by a dividing line or zone of crowded foramina—the outlets of small blood-vessels. In the aboriginal, the effect is intensified, not alone on account of the usually receding forehead, but also because the root of his nose is appreciably depressed between the eyes; and consequently the glabella appears to project extraordinarily far outwards ([Plate III]).

It was Thomas Huxley who first drew attention to the analogy existing between the skull of the fossil Neanderthal man and that of the Australian aboriginal. To quote the words of that famous anthropologist, “a small additional amount of flattening and lengthening, with a corresponding increase in the superciliary ridge, would convert the Australian brain case into a form identical with that of the aberrant fossil.” Since those words were written, a number of other fossil skeletons of men have been found, the examination of which has confirmed Huxley’s observation upon the first Neanderthal skull.

The substance of the supraorbital prominence consists of massive bone. As in the fossil skulls, the sinuses lie behind this mass, not far from the inner surface. It appears that this colossal growth of bone takes place in early adult life; so far, no superciliary ridges have been observed in children’s skulls.

Originally this great thickness of bone in the supraorbital region of the Neanderthal calotte was regarded as a proliferation of bony tissue caused by disease. Then it was proclaimed to be a characteristic by which one might distinguish the skulls of fossil from those of all living races. The subsequent recognition of true supraorbital ridges or tori in the Australian completely disproved both these hypotheses.

The feature is, so far as our present knowledge goes, essentially masculine, and, as such, suggests a secondary origin comparable to the tremendous supraorbital developments of bone in the skull of the male gorilla. Professor D. J. Cunningham, who investigated this subject thoroughly from a comparative anatomical point of view, found “superciliary and supraorbital elements” even more or less developed in the lower types of apes. A supraorbital prominence is rarely observed in the female ([Plate III], 2).

To return to the eye: the colour of the iris, in its normal condition, is practically without exception dark brown. The only exception to this rule, that has come under my personal observation, was a young, full-blooded gin of the Mulluk Mulluk tribe in the Daly River district, north Australia, whose iris was a deep bluish grey.

There is great variety in the shape of the cavities which hold the eye-balls of the Australian. The orbits are large, and their outer margins, as in the Neanderthal type, very nearly form a circle. According to Professor Klaatsch’s measurements, the ratio of the maximum vertical to the maximum horizontal diameter in the male Australian skull is as 39 millimeters is to 40. As a rule, the eye-cavities in children are slightly depressed horizontally, and occasionally this is also the case in the skulls of females.

The orbit’s upper edge is very strong; and what is known as the internal angular process of the frontal bone, in the inner wall of the cavity, is very prominent in the Australian. The last named characteristic is, however, also observed in the skulls of Veddahs and other primitive people, as well as in those of the anthropoids. But we must not forget, when dealing critically with a skull, that an internal angular process may not be so typical in the male as it is in the skulls of women and children.

The external angular processes are often well developed, the malar boundary being strong and broad, without the sharp edge usually noticed in European skulls.

The ethmoid bone in the inner wall of the orbit is, as in most of the primitive skulls, noticeably small.

The groove of the lachrymal bone, which intra vitam carries the tear duct connecting eye with nose, is usually very pronounced in the Australian.

In children’s skulls a supraorbital notch divides the upper margin of the orbital cavity into two almost equal parts, the outer of which has a well-defined edge.

In the nose and its aperture, we again recognize primitive characteristics of considerable importance in the Australian. We have already had occasion to notice how deeply the root of the external organ seems to be retracted under the great glabellar prominence of the forehead. A bridge in the true sense of the word seems wanting, the nose consisting of a flabby body at its point, above which lies a saddle-shaped depression sloping imperceptibly into the retracted root beneath the forehead. Not uncommonly one finds a number among the males of all tribes whose noses are curved and give one the impression of Jewish features; the type is rare among women ([Plate VI], 2).

The breadth of the nose is very great, and consequently the nasal aperture in Australian skulls is of corresponding dimensions. The width of the aperture often actually exceeds thirty millimeters.

It must not be supposed that these features are quite peculiar to the Australian; they are also present in the fossil skulls of Europe. If then we regard the latter as the ancestral stock, from whom modern peoples have sprung, and, at the same time, recollect that diverse admixtures of strain might have taken place periodically, it would not be amiss to expect indications of such primitive nose developments in the higher types of man. That such do occur, we can every day verify for ourselves.

Apart from being a racial characteristic, the flat broad nose is cultivated by many of the tribes. Mothers artificially flatten the noses of their children when quite young by pressing upon them with their fingers, and often repeating the process. It is, therefore, often difficult to say whether a specially flat nose is natural or is the result of cosmetic culture. The wearing of a bone or stick through the septum would also tend to flatten and widen the organ to an abnormal extent ([Plate VI]).

The nasal aperture of a modern European skull almost invariably has sharp lateral margins, which unite at the base behind a prominent bony spine; for reasons which will become apparent below, we shall call this the inner boundary. In an anthropoid, like the gorilla, however, the cavity is bounded on its lower side by two ridges, which enclose a groove in front of the large aperture. Converging upwards, these ridges, on either side, unite to form the lateral margins below the nasal bones. In the monkeys there is no indication of a well-defined boundary at all, the lower surface of the cavity appearing more or less smooth, whilst the spine, so prominent in man, is barely recognizable.

In the Australian skull we often find an interesting transition stage connecting these extremes, the inner margin being present but associated with a pre-nasal groove at the base of the aperture. Indeed, the sharp lateral margin is often found to pass into a pre-nasal ridge which forms the anterior margin of the groove. Such a condition is of considerable interest, since it recalls a stage in our evolution, when the nose was closely connected with the mouth part; that is to say, that a portion now absorbed into the modern skull was originally the floor of the nose, and helped to build up the alveolar process of the upper jaw.

In fact, we are reminded of this condition when we look upon the living aboriginal; for his nose seems to ride upon the upper portion of his mouth, to which it seems rigidly attached, after the pattern of an animal’s snout. We see the same sort of thing in the European embryo during the first few months of gestation.

This “primitive snout” is made the more conspicuous in the Australian on account of the strong naso-labial folds in the skin, one of which, on either side, encloses the angle of the mouth in a semi-circular fashion. With us Europeans, the elevating processes which our nose has undergone have tended to reduce the depth of these folds, in the upper portions at any rate. This elevating process, by the way, has largely been in consequence of the recession our mandibular skeleton has suffered ([Plate V]).

The jaws of the Australian are, like those of most of the fossil skulls and of the Negroids, protubefent—a condition known as prognathism. In the Tasmanians, too, the strong development of the jaws, and of the teeth, has resulted in a general fullness of the same region ([Plate III], 2).

In aboriginal infants, one often finds the bony process, upon which the teeth subsequently grow, to be directed forwards, almost in a straight line with the floor of the nose. This hereditary predisposition towards a horizontal development of the alveolar region reminds one forcibly of features belonging to the anthropoid apes.

Yet, generally speaking, it must be admitted, there is a great variation in prognathism among the Australians.

In order to compare the degree of facial prognathism of the skulls of different men, a method was devised by Fraipont: The glabella is connected with the lambda by an imaginary plane, and another plane erected at right angles to this at the glabella. The latter plane usually cuts the alveolar plane at about the first or second premolar, occasionally at the first molar. Still another plane is imagined, extending vertically from the most anterior point of the alveolar to the glabella-lambda plane. Then the rectangular distance between the two upright planes represents, after Fraipont’s method, the prognathism. The maximum prognathism of the Australian, determined by this means, is, according to Professor Klaatsch, twenty-five millimeters, and the minimum eight.

Let us now enquire into the possible origin of prognathism among the primitive races of mankind. We shall have to take note, in the first place, of the large occipital development of both the brain and the brain-box in the lower types of the human species. In order to antagonize the downward pull of this weight, the mandibular region has expanded and provides the balancing moment about a fulcrum on the spine. With this explanation fresh in our minds, we understand how the development of the frontal region of modern peoples would tend to modify the lower region of the face and establish the condition known as orthognathism.

Prognathism is usually associated with a receding chin. By elaborating the Fraipont method, Professor Klaatsch has added another vertical plane at the most anterior point of the cutting surface of the teeth. In primitive folks, like the Australians and the fossil Neanderthals, the chin lies behind this plane and is called a “negative chin”; in the Mongoloids (Malays, etc.) the chin practically lies against the plane and is called a “neutral chin”; and lastly, in the modern Europeans, the chin lies before the plane and is known as a “positive chin.”

In the Tasmanians, the chin was bluntly rounded, without much of the prominence so highly perfected in the modern peoples.

The mental foramen is usually situated at a point below and between the second bicuspid and first molar.

The Australian’s ear is large and longish, much the same in general appearance as the European’s; the Negroid’s ear is decidedly rounder. There is, however, no great racial variety in the human ear; man has, like the rodents, retained the primitive shape, whilst the monkeys have acquired more specialized forms.

The small process, known as the tragus, which partially covers the ear-hole, is mostly covered with bristly hairs in adult men.

The dependent portion, or lobulus, which carries the earrings of our European ladies and is often mutilated by the lower races, is not as a rule interfered with by the Australians. The custom of piercing the lobulus appears to be confined to the Cape York Peninsula in Queensland. The hole is pierced with a small pointed bone, after which a short cylindrical wooden rod or bone is inserted, frequently removed and replaced again, until the edge of the hole has healed. In the course of time, a series of rods, of gradually increasing diameter, are forced into the perforation, until a large pendant loop is formed. Upon special occasions, short painted rods of wood, two inches or more in diameter, are inserted into the loop.

The cheek bone, or zygomatic arch, is usually horizontal; but it may curve upwards from the squamous bone, thence downwards anteriorly. The mastoid process is comparatively small, but it is often associated with an unusual thickness of the wall of the ear-passage.

CHAPTER V
THE MOUTH

The lips—The vault and hard palate—The teeth—Excessive wear of grinding surfaces—Tooth-picks—Fourth molars—Dental rudiments—The canines.

The Australian’s mouth is decidedly large, and his lips full. The latter, especially of the children, are as often as not becomingly arched and furnished with a shapely philtrum.

If we were to look into the mouths of a number of aboriginals we would find considerable individual differences in the configuration of the vault. In some instances the roof would appear high and arched, in others low and flat. If, further, we extended our observations in the direction of any differences which might exist in the individual faculty of articulated speech, relative to the variations in height already noted, our efforts would be fruitless. It is very doubtful whether any such connection between the height of the mouth and freedom of tongue or speech does exist in the aboriginal’s case. But it has been rightly pointed out that the hard palates of fossil skulls are flatter than they are in those of modern races.

Perhaps the finest natural gift of the Australian (and the same was true of the Tasmanian) is his strong set of ivory white teeth. In the primitive tribes, living apart from civilization, dental disease or caries is practically unknown. A common feature, however, is that the teeth are ground down on a level, to varying extents, depending upon the age of the individual examined. In many cases, the biting and grinding surfaces of the teeth have been worn to almost the alveolar or gum-level of the jaws, leaving only the roots with short truncated stumps to do the mastication.

This excessive wear of healthy teeth is mainly attributable to the large quantities of sand contained in the everyday diet. The aboriginal cooks nearly all his meals in hot ashes and sand; it is unavoidable, therefore, to include an appreciable quantity of gritty material in the articles which are consumed. The aboriginal, furthermore, during the course of a meal, might repeatedly call upon the strength of his teeth, as an easy way of crunching bones of animals, and shell of molluscs and crabs, and many other things. Casually one might take notice of the fact that the teeth of the fossil of Gibraltar are worn in the same remarkable way.

An aboriginal does not take any particular care of his teeth, with the exception that after every meal, some considerable time is devoted to the removal of any remnants of meat which may have been retained. For this purpose, the dry seed-stalks of grass and small twigs are generally used. The old Kukata men were observed to possess permanent tooth-picks, consisting of short pieces of wood sharpened at one end. For convenience sake, they carried these, planted in their shaggy beards.

Should there be an aching tooth to cure, the native does it by heating the point of a small stick in a fire and inserting it into the cavity which is causing the trouble.

A most interesting circumstance in connection with the dentition of the Australian is the comparatively frequent occurrence of a fourth molar in the jaws. We know that in European subjects the third molar or wisdom tooth is smaller, and takes longer in coming to the surface than the other molars; its development is certainly on the down-grade with our kind; but the third molar of the aboriginal is strong and lasting.

PLATE IV

1. Aluridja woman. Note matted locks and asymmetry of breasts.

2. Wongapitcha warrior, so-called Semitic type.

Even when a fourth molar cannot be found in toto, there is often present, behind the third molar, a peculiar prolongation of the alveolar groove, which seems to be indicative of a former existence, in the earlier evolutional history of the Australian, of such a tooth. Indeed, the occurrence of a fourth molar in the human species, which in the aboriginal is certainly not sporadic, must be looked upon as a character originally common to the ancestral forms of both man and anthropoid. For this reason, we must not be surprised to hear that a fourth molar might occasionally be found in any race of man.

Professor W. L. H. Duckworth has described some small dental rudiments on the alveolar surface of the upper jaw, which might even suggest remnants of third premolars. Such rudiments usually occur between the second bicuspid and the first molar, and consist of dentine. If it can be proved that we have before us true evidence of immature tooth-development, the phenomenon suggests a dental formula similar to that of some of the simians possessing three premolars. On the contrary, the formations may be the remnant masses of temporary milk teeth.

Supernumerary bicuspids are, it appears, not very often observed in the Australian.

It is still questionable whether, as Charles Darwin suggested, the ancestor of the human species has ever possessed extra large eye-teeth or canines in any way resembling those of an anthropoid. In the Talgai skull, referred to later, the canines certainly seem abnormally large, but one could not be expected to draw definite conclusions from a single specimen, especially when it is known that, even among ourselves, we here and there see persons whose canines are quite the same size as those of the Talgai fossil.

CHAPTER VI
THE SKULL AND BRAIN

Scaphocephaly popularly misinterpreted—Sutures and wormian bones Dolichocephaly—Tasmanian skulls more globose—Forehead occasionally well developed—Absence of tubera frontalia—Fronto-squamous articulation—Occipital peculiarities—Massive skull-walls—Cranial capacity—The brain—Generally well developed—Important primitive characteristics—Rhinal fissure—Insertions of neck-muscles in occiput—Atlanto-occipital articulation.

Opinion is often expressed that the Australian has not sufficient brains to completely fill his brain-box! Such a statement is, of course, not in accordance with fact. A condition known as scaphocephaly is, however, not infrequently observed in the Australian skull, which gives one the impression of insufficient inflation of the cranial vault as a whole. A sagittal ridge is present which, with a little exaggeration, might be likened to an inverted boat ([Plate V]). A similar frontal ridge is also occasionally observed in the Negroid skull and some of the fossil calvaria, but rarely in the modern European and Asiatic races.

This median frontal ridge is not the result of any abnormal thickening of bone locally, but anthropologists believe it may be connected with the early fusion of the frontal suture. As a matter of fact, the frontal suture is extremely rare in adult primitive peoples’ skulls, and so far only three have been recorded in the Australian by Dr. Ramsay Smith in specimens from the Northern Territory; one case has been found in the Tasmanian; and one or two in the Torres Strait Islanders. All the other sutures in the calvarium seem to be less complicated in the Australian than in the European and other more highly developed types of man; the most complex is the lambdoid suture; and it often has one or more small Wormian bones interposed within its course, which are, in all probability, connected with the growth of the brain, and with the consequent enlarging processes, which the enclosing bones have suffered. An os inca is occasionally seen.

Although scaphocephalic skulls are not rare among the Australians, we must not overlook the fact that occasionally we find specimens, dead or alive, exhibiting sagittal curves in no wise behind those of modern peoples. And this seems to have been even more conspicuous in the case of the lost Tasmanians.

The Australian skull is remarkably narrow and long, in most instances dolichocephalic. In the Tasmanians, the parietal portion is considerably wider in proportion; the whole of that region seems to be inflated, when compared with the frontal portion. Whereas in the Australian we noticed a sagittal ridge, a peculiar median sulcus is usually present in male skulls, running along the line of the sagittal suture.

There is a remarkable uniformity in the contours of the male Tasmanian skulls. They resemble the female Australian much more than they do the male Australian, principally because the adult male Australian skulls vary so.

We have already referred to the sloping forehead and frontal region of the Australian skull; such is observed also in the Tasmanian and, for that matter, in all primitive men whether they be recent or fossil. But at the same time, one frequently observes crania of these primitive people in which the contours of the frontals are as steep as in any average European. The last remark applies especially to the female skull, which even might occasionally show a combination of a prominent forehead with a primitive superciliary ridge. The two conspicuous eminences of the forehead of the European skull, known as the tubera frontalia, one of which is situated over either eye-socket, are not developed in the Australian or Tasmanian.

The frontal bone of the Australian skull often lies in direct contact with the squamous portion; this is, however, the case in other primitive races also. The articulation between the bones mentioned is effected by means of a process which the squamous bone sends towards the frontal; the actual line of contact measuring several millimetres. In other instances the connecting process is replaced by a small epipteric bone. The articulation may occur on one or both sides of the skull.

The bony tuberosity of the occipital bone, being part of a muscle-attachment, varies appreciably in its position; its central point is anthropologically styled the external inion. A similar protuberance on the inner surface of the bone is the divisional line between the great and small hemispheres of the brain; it is called the internal inion. The internal inion is, as a rule, situated lower than the external in the adult Australian; but in female and immature skulls the two points are at about the same level.

The angle which is contained by the occipital bone at the inion, in a sagittal plane, is less in the Australian than in the modern European skull. Many of the Australian skulls one examines, therefore, seem to be unusually flattened at the base, below the inion.

The cranial walls of no other race are so massive as those of the Australian. It is particularly in the supraorbital and the occipital regions that the bone is so thick; the thinnest portions lie in the temporal and lower parietals; these remarks apply principally to the adult male skulls. The consequent strength of the aboriginal’s skull has almost become proverbial. Many are the club-duels which tribal law and honour demand to be fought. Upon these occasions the head is the mark. But also in the settlement of his domestic affairs, when a serious offence calls for punishment, the husband selects the head of his gin for beating with the weighty nulla-nulla. Is it a wonder, then, that one often finds the skulls of aborigines covered with dents, which have resulted from such a battering? Occasionally death might follow such treatment; and a few cases stand on record of blindness following the destruction of the centre of vision by a blow from the club. So severe is the impact that often, in the stillness of night, I have heard the falling of the blows upon a disobedient gin’s head, although our camp might have been some considerable distance off.

PLATE V

Wordaman man, profile and full-face.

Note scaphocephaly, great width of nose, and strong naso-labial fold.

This wonderful strength is largely due to the better development of the compact tissue of the skull-bone, when compared with that of the European. The external, as well as the internal, laminae of the cranial wall are thicker than ours, while, on the other hand, the intermediate layer, known as the diploë, is thinner in the aboriginal’s skull. This condition serves the double purpose of protecting the brain against the mechanical injury referred to, as well as against the powerful rays of a fierce southern sun.

In regard to the cubic capacity of the Tasmanian and Australian skulls, we might accept as averages for the adult male and female Australian skulls 1,290 and 1,845 cubic centimeters respectively, and as similar averages for the Tasmanian, 1,315 and 1,155 respectively. The individual variations in the adult male Australian skulls range from 1,630 to 1,040, and in those of the opposite sex from 1,280 to 1,010 cubic centimeters. The corresponding variations in male and female Tasmanian skulls are from 1,465 to 1,140, and from 1,225 to 1,060 respectively.

There are, however, considerable variations in the capacity of Australian skulls; many instances may be selected in which the capacity is quite as good as that of an ordinary European brain-box. On the other hand, cases have been recorded of capacities not greater than 940 cubic centimeters in adult female Australian skulls.

The brain of the Australian has not been studied to any considerable extent. The first impression a layman receives, upon beholding the brain of an aboriginal, is, perhaps, a little disappointing. Assuming him to be a man of low intellect, he expects to find a brain of inferior development. But such is not the case. In fact, to any but the specialist, there seems nothing to indicate a lowly intellectual capacity. The number of convolutions is about the same as one finds in Europeans of average intelligence; but the structure, as a whole, is, perhaps, a little less complicated and less tortuous than we are accustomed to see in our own sort. The large cerebral hemispheres completely cover the cerebellum. Certain features, like the operculum, are more strongly developed on the left side than the right.

In some respects the Australian brain preserves important characteristics, which indicate the genesis of the more modified or more specialized conditions seen in the brain of modern man. The length of the hemispheres and the small occipital development are unquestionably extremely primitive characters, which, among others, remind us of the common ancestry of man and ape. In the brains of the more cultured peoples, processes are at work, which are completely remodelling portions of the important organ, and thereby making it more and more unlike the anthropoid or simian brain. By such modifications in the occipital region, the human brain is gradually ridding itself of a feature strongly developed in the monkey’s brain, which has been named the sulcus lunatus. German anthropologists call this sulcus “Affenspalte,” which means “Monkey-Cleft,” i.e., a cleft or sulcus in the posterior portion of the brain of primates, which is strongly developed in the monkeys, but disappearing in the brain of man. In the Australian’s brain, the sulcus lunatus can often be more or less distinctly discerned, and its presence there affords us valuable evidence when tracing the remnants of the sulcus in the brains of other races, including those of the modern Europeans.

The posterior lip of the sulcus lunatus is occasionally operculated in the Australian’s brain. In the parieto-occipital region, the outer convolutions are depressed and covered by an operculum-like flap; but this condition is also occasionally observed in European examples.

Another simian feature, rarely seen in European brains, is rather frequently found in Australian, in the shape of a rhinal fissure. It should be observed, however, that the European embryo clearly shows this fissure in the brain as it is developing.

The occipital bone varies in its appearance. The impressions made upon the surface, where, during the life-time of an individual, the strong muscles of the neck were attached, are, as a rule, well developed. The minor posterior-rectus and complexus muscles of the neck often leave deep hollows in the occipital bone at the points of their insertions.

A bony process is often noticed in front of the big foramen, which joins the occipital condyles; this is an atavistic condition, by means of which an extra articulation is occasionally effected between the occiput and vertebral column. The condyles vary considerably in their elevation above the occipital bone. The large foramen is mostly oval in shape, but often has a little median notch in its posterior margin.

CHAPTER VII
COLOUR OF ABORIGINAL’S SKIN

Unsuitable nomenclature—Aboriginal of Australia not a “Nigger”—Colour normally chocolate-brown—Lighter in infancy—Variations of shade due to several causes—Colour-classification schemes obsolete—Pigmentation very superficial in aboriginal’s skin—“White blackfellows”—Pigment destroyed by disease and lesion—Actual colour—Its intensity and distribution—Effect of environment on aboriginal’s skin colour—Climatic influence.

The Australian aboriginal is popularly spoken of as a blackfellow; at times one even hears him referred to as a nigger! Strictly speaking, the former appellation is not in accordance with obvious fact, and the latter in addition is scientifically grossly incorrect. The aboriginal is no more black than the average modern European is white, and, apart from his darker colour, he certainly has not many negroid features which we do not also possess, at any rate more or less sporadically. Under normal conditions, the colour of the Australian is a velvety chocolate-brown, somewhat lighter or more coppery in the female than in the male. The skin of a newly-born piccaninny is very much paler, with a distinct tint of fleshy red about it, which many people maintain reminds one of the skin of young murines, as it appears before it developes fur. For this reason, too, the inexperienced observer often accuses an aboriginal mother of infidelity; the colour of the infant’s skin, when compared with that of its parent, indeed suggests a mixing of her blood with that of another lighter coloured race. The child’s skin, however, soon darkens in colour; and, within a few weeks, attains a shade not appreciably different from that of the adults of its tribe.

Apparent gradations in colour are occasionally observed among different members of one and the same tribe. As with ourselves, circulatory disorders are not absent among the aborigines, and such materially affect the quality of colour in the aboriginal’s skin. Simple anaemia, or even a temporary blanching of the tissues, through nervousness or fright during the time of an examination, will affect the appearance of the skin. In the same way, full-bloodedness, or a passing flush, will deepen the shade, the injection of blood into the underlying tissues being clearly noticeable through the epidermis. Pathological conditions like jaundice are also frequently developed in the aborigines, and impart to their skin a sickly ashen hue; in this case the yellow colour of the conjunctiva usually indicates the disorder. The likelihood of any such conditions being present should be carefully investigated before applying the standard colour tables of modern anthropologists.

The oldest systems of colour-classification divided the races of man into five groups—the white, the yellow, the red, the brown, and the black. But nowadays, even the layman knows that such hard and fast divisions are impossible. We find that among individuals of one particular race, whatever its so-called, and somewhat arbitrary, colour might be, there exist noticeable variations in shade. Red Indians have yellow or brown skins almost as frequently as a genuine red; the “white” races of Europe often have so dark a “complexion” that they are in reality brown; and the skin of a negro at times has a distinctly reddish or brownish hue.

Early anthropologists thought that the “dust or tawny” colour was due to the accumulation of carbon in the external layers of the integument. But since the introduction of the microscope, which made the study of thin sections of human skin under great magnification possible, it was found that the colour is due to living cells, which carry pigment in their protoplasm, and are more or less migratory.

In the Australian aboriginal, these pigment-cells lie quite superficially in the skin. Some years ago Professor Klaatsch, of Heidelberg University, when in Australia, managed to obtain the corpse of an aboriginal, which he consigned to a large tank holding an ordinary preserving fluid. Hermetically sealing the lid of the tank, the Professor shipped the specimen to Europe, where it was to be dissected. Some months later, I joined him at Breslau University, and together we opened the tank. Imagine our surprise when we beheld what one might describe as an anthropological contradiction—a “white blackfellow!” It took us some time to recognize in the form in front of us that of the aboriginal we had seen in Australia. What had happened was that, during the continued movement of the preserving solution during the transport, the superficial layers of the skin had been removed, and, with them, the colour too. In other parts, the skin had blistered and become detached, leaving more or less adherent strips of epidermis in which the colouring matter could be recognized.

I have seen a similar condition of things in corpses of aborigines, in the remoter districts of the Australian bush, where the dead are placed to rest on artificial platforms in the branches of trees. When, during the processes of decomposition, the skin peels off, and is washed away by the rain, the corpse assumes a pinkish white colour, resembling the body of a white man, some time dead. No doubt it was on this account that, in the early days of European settlement, it was a general belief among the aborigines that the white man was one of their own dead warriors returned to life in a different colour. We have a classical example in the experience of the escaped convict, William Buckley, who lived for thirty-two years among the natives of Victoria, the latter regarding him as their dead chief returned to life transformed. It is quite possible that this belief, which is so common among the tribes, originated from the fact that the natives themselves had observed, as Professor Klaatsch and I did, that the decomposing bodies of their dead might, under certain conditions, become very much lighter in colour.

Throughout the Northern Kimberley district the natives maintain that a dead tribesman will “jump up all-the-same whitefellow” in colour.

A singular case, illustrative of the shallowness of pigmentation in the epithelium of an aboriginal’s skin, was reported from Canowie Sheep Station by the late Rev. Tenison Woods. A native, suffering from an obstinate skin disease, was “dipped,” like a sheep, in a solution containing soft soap, tobacco, and arsenic, the last-named in the proportion of one ounce to the gallon of water. The native became very ill, lost his hair, and his finger and toe-nails. Eventually he became better, but his skin peeled off. He was then described as “presenting the appearance of a magpie during the time the process of decortication was going on.” Finally his skin became “smooth and as glossy as marble.”

In pemphigoid skin-eruptions, when blister-like bullae develop over different parts of the body, the lesions left in the skin for a while are pinkish and unpigmented. Scars resulting from a cut or burn remain red for a considerable time, but eventually turn the same uniform colour as the rest of the skin.

Under normal conditions, one may often find patches of pigment on mucous surfaces of the inner lips and mouth. The pathological condition known as leucoderma is, on the other hand, rather frequently observed among the different tribes of Australia. I have seen natives, both in the north and south of this continent, whose skin over certain areas was devoid of pigment; the hands and feet seem particularly prone to be thus affected.

So much for the seat of the pigmentation. If we now enquire into the actual complexion, or colour-tint, of the aboriginal’s skin, the question is not so easily satisfied as one might have thought. The colour is, of course, brown—a soft, velvety brown, like chocolate. Scientists tell us it is about the same as tint No. 3 of the colour scheme on Plate III, Notes and Queries on Anthropology, London. But the matter is not so simple as one might be led to believe. To begin with, we have not a homogeneous colouration before us. If, for instance, we wanted to paint a picture of an aboriginal, we would mix a fundamental chocolate-brown to deck the surface with; to obtain the shade of the back we should have to mix a blue or green with the brown; whereas the cheeks and chin would require a yellow or red. The intensity of pigmentation varies to a noticeable degree; it is deepest on the back and neck, and along the folds of the skin. The soles and palms are always very much lighter in colour than the rest of the body.

Environment plays an important role, because a native’s skin has the remarkable power of what might be termed complimentary colour-adaptation, as a result of which a hard and fast definition, or fixing, of the shade is practically impossible. For this same reason it is conceivable why the sombre hue of the hunter’s skin becomes neutralized by the sallowness of the arid Central Australian scrub, as well as by the deeply-shaded verdure of the tropical jungle. Upon a clear day, with an open, blue sky, an aboriginal always appears dark or dingy, while on a dull and cloudy day, his skin is more of a chocolate-brown; when he is swimming in the open sea, his colour may even become coppery and seem not much darker than that of a Javanese.

The adaptable tone-characteristics of their skin are well-known to the natives themselves, not only while in the hunting field and on the warpath, but also on the playground. At Opparinna, in the Musgrave Ranges, children were seen indulging in a game resembling “hide and seek,” and often, in an endeavour to avoid the keen eye of the “seeker,” one would duck in amongst the boulders of granite and imitate the rust-coloured contours of a boulder to perfection.

PLATE VI

1. Wongapitcha woman, wearing “ungwaina” (nose-stick), and fur-string bandeau.

2. Wongapitcha woman, wearing bloodwood seed pendants called “dindula.” Note “Semitic” nose.

We know that the climate has an important bearing upon the subject of pigmentation in all races. Most of us have had our faces, hands, and other exposed parts of our body bronzed when holiday-making at the seaside. If we come straight from indoor life in the city, we might, in addition, find our skin develop a badly blistered condition known as sunburn. Yet the bushman, the coach-driver, or the sailor, who, by long exposure, has acquired a more or less permanent tan, can bask with impunity in the severest rays of the sun.

Exactly the same processes take place in the coloured man’s skin. When cruising about the north coast, I frequently had occasion to observe that my Malay crew were more bronzed above than below the belt. This was obviously caused through continued exposure to the tropical sun, since during the heat of day they would work, or lie about on deck, wearing nothing else than a serong hanging from their waist.

When aborigines are taken from their wild outdoor life, and kept under European conditions, more or less confined, their skin becomes unquestionably lighter; this is particularly noticed in their faces.

These phenomena indicate to us the method Nature adopts in protecting our skin, and with it our system, against scorching rays of the sun; and we also realize why it is that the coloured man can endure the disadvantages of a tropical climate so much better than we.

The same phenomena might also be made responsible for the wonderful absence of pigment in the skin of modern white peoples of European origin. There is no doubt, the great Ice Age and the living in caves and shelters (and huts) were the essential factors which ultimately established the “white” skin in man. In this hypothesis, we naturally assume that our Diluvial or earlier Tertiary ancestor had a moderately dark-coloured skin, which protected him against the tropical sun, which Geology has taught us, shone over Europe at the beginning or middle of that great period.

CHAPTER VIII
THE HAIR

The lanugo—Hairiness of body—Female beards—The hair of the scalp and how it is worn—Its colour—Aboriginal blondes—Albinism—Erythrism—Fair hair a likely “throw-back” to prototype—Influences of climate and geological antiquity—Other instances of fair-haired aborigines—Grey hair—Baldness—The beard and methods of dressing it.

Let us proceed with a discussion of the aboriginal’s hair. As in the youthful individuals of most races of man, including the European, the Australian is born with a rudimentary, short body-hair, known as the lanugo. This growth covers practically all surfaces of the child’s figure, but is thickest on the back.

The colour of this infantile coating of hair is not, as one might have expected, black, but fair, and casts a pretty golden sheen over the sombre skin. In later adult life this growth of hair becomes stronger, and darkens to complete blackness. In ripe old age, the hairs turn grey.

Many of the old men have a remarkable hairiness of the body, amounting almost to a hypertrichosis. In these cases the hairs are up to an inch long, and cover especially thickly the back, the chest, the thighs, and buttocks ([Plate VII], 1). Amongst the women quite pretentious beards are of rather frequent occurrence ([Plate III], 2).

With regard to the hair which covers the scalp, we find that, in the majority of cases, it is wavy. It is by no means uncommon, however, to find the Australian’s hair distinctly frizzy; straight hair is least frequently observed. The male aboriginal generally wears his hair in long loose curls; often these are matted together artificially with grease and red ochre into long, pendant, sausage-like masses. In the central region of Australia, the men pull out the hair growing on the upper portion of the forehead, each hair being removed separately. A hair-string band is worn over the cleared portion of the forehead, and this, at the same time, keeps back the locks of hair. Very often, in the central as well as in the northern districts, the hair thus tied back is worked up with a pad of emu feathers into a chignon, which is tied round and round with human hair-string ([Plate IX]). The women are frequently asked to cut their hair short, and to deliver the clippings to their husbands, who work them up into coils of string, out of which they subsequently fashion hair belts and a variety of other articles in daily use. Occasionally one sees an aboriginal whose hair stands about his head after the type of a Struwwelpeter, or it may hang from the scalp like a mop. The last-named types were more plentiful on the north coast than in central Australia, but a number of cases were recorded among the Aluridja and Wongapitcha.

The men of the same west-central tribes decorate their hair with wooden pins whose surfaces they cut longitudinally over certain sections, so that the shavings, which form, curl outwards but still remain attached to the rod. The ornaments which go by the name of “elenba” remind one of trimmed skewers occasionally seen in butcher-shops. One or two of them are worn long at the back of the head ([Plate IX], 2), or a number of them short, as a fringe above the forehead. The women of the same districts try to make their hair look attractive by attaching to the tips of the matted locks numerous seed-capsules of the Bloodwood eucalyptus. The hairs are rammed into the open ends of the seeds and kept there by small plugs of wood or blebs of resin. The little ornaments dangle about the forehead and shoulders and are known as “dindula” The seeds of the Currajong are similarly used. Vide [Plate VI], 2.

The colour of the adult Australian’s hair is almost invariably black, but often of different intensities over different parts of the scalp. When a hair is pulled and examined under magnification, the part which had been embedded in the follicle is not infrequently discovered to be colourless or brownish.

By far the most remarkable, and genetically perhaps the most important, subject in connection with the colour of the Australian aboriginal’s hair is the juvenile blonde. In 1903, I first came across a number of children of the Ulparidja group of the Wongapitcha, in the Tomkinson Ranges, who had heads of hair of a flaxen colour. Since then, I have seen many similar cases among the Aluridja, in the Lilla Creek district, several Wongapitcha from south of the Musgrave Ranges, at Ooldea, and a limited number among the western Arunndta, on the Finke River, south of the MacDonnell Ranges. The colour of these children’s hair varied from a straw-yellow, through light brown, to dark brown ([Plate X], 1).

It appeared that, towards the age of puberty, the shade became visibly deeper; after which it gradually changed to dark brown or black. This change of colour I have recently been able to watch very closely in the hair of two young gins who have been under daily observation for over four years.

Among the adults, such blondes are unknown; two or three cases of brown hair in grown-up persons, however, came under our observation among the Aluridja, west of the Finke River.

True albinism has not been authoritatively established, as existing among the Australian aboriginals. The case of a young woman was reported from the Depôt on the Victoria River, who is said to have been quite “white,” and to have had “red” eyes. This albino, I was informed, was photographed by the local constable shortly before she died in 1921.

Erythrism, too, is practically unknown; the only cases of the latter on record are four from the Tully and Bloomfield Rivers, discovered by Dr. Walter Roth. Red hair is, however, not appreciated by the aborigines, who incline to hold it to ridicule.

PLATE VII

1. Old Yantowannta man, showing a strong growth of hair covering the body.

2. Old Yantowannta man, showing peculiar method of wearing the beard.

When, therefore, we consider the likely significance of fair-haired aborigines, from an anthropological standpoint, we cannot ignore the claims of atavism. Noticing the phenomenon so abundantly developed, as it has been our good fortune recently to record, one is inclined to behold in it a primitive feature, which was originally typical of the ancestral hordes from whom the aboriginal Australian has sprung. This assumption is strengthened by the light colour of the lanugo regularly observed in the children.

The question arises whether the dark colour of the Australian’s skin (and hair) is entirely a secondary development due to climatic influences. The superficial nature of the pigmentation in the aboriginal’s skin is in support of such reasoning. It is known that the hair of some Arctic explorers, after a protracted sojourn in the frigid zones, has turned from dark to fair; and the same has been reported of alpine guides. We shall see presently that there is evidence of great antiquity of man in Australia; his occupation of the land dating back in all probability to the early Tertiary period. Geology teaches us that the climate has fluctuated considerably since and before that time. Consequently, it is quite within reason to assume that, in the earlier days of his racial existence, there may have been no need for any considerable accumulation of pigment cells within his skin, as a means of safeguarding his system against a sun, anything like so severe as is nowadays reigning over Australia. From later Tertiary times onwards, however, the climate of central and northern Australia has been continuously hot or tropical.

We are further strengthened in our theory by the fact that the hair of the Tasmanians is known to have been generally lighter in colour than that of the Australians. Sydney Hickson even described the Tasmanian hair as light golden brown in colour. Tasmania has, we know, since the later Tertiary at all events, enjoyed a decidedly colder climate than Australia proper.

One point remains unexplained; namely, why the occurrence of light-coloured hair among Australian children should be geographically restricted. Apart from the tribal groups in central Australia, which I have mentioned, I know of no other record except one by Professor Klaatsch from a coastal district in Queensland.

The hair of an aboriginal turns grey at a riper old age than is the case of the European’s. It seems, moreover, that the hair of the women retains its colour longer than that of the men.

Baldness is comparatively rare among the aborigines; only a limited number of cases have come before the writer’s personal notice.

The old Arunndta men are very particular about their appearance. When one is stricken with baldness, he constructs a pad, resembling a skull cap, out of emu feathers, which he ties on top of his head with human hair-string and wears regularly to hide the bareness of his scalp. He refers to this feather-wig as “memba.” Aluridja men adopt a similar fashion, but call the article “lorngai” ([Plate VIII]).

The men all over Australia, as a rule, can produce quite comely beards, but the methods they adopt of dressing them vary according to locality. In the River Murray and other southern districts, long square full-beards were the vogue. The Yantowannta and other tribesmen of the Cooper’s Creek and Lake Eyre region turn the point of the beard back upon itself into a loop, and, by winding fur-string around it, keep it fixed in that fashion ([Plate VII], 2). North of the MacDonnell Ranges, and on some of the islands off Arnhem Land, the older men keep the upper lip clean by pulling out the hairs one by one. Along the north coast, from the Gulf of Carpentaria to the Buccaneer Archipelago, the men over a certain age are allowed to singe off, or shave with a sharp chip of stone or shell, the entire beard including the upper lip. The women of the King Sound tribes are required to help the men remove the hairs; a man will lie for hours, with his head upon his lubra’s lap, whilst she busies herself pulling the hairs from her husband’s chin. The old men of the Cambridge Gulf tribe twist each end of the moustache and surround it with a cylindrical layer of beeswax, from which the tips project on either side like the hairs of a paint brush. The beard is divided into two equal bundles of hairs, the ends of both of which are treated in the same way as the moustache. On some of the islands of the Buccaneer Archipelago, the men shave the upper portion of the moustache below the nose, leaving only a narrow fringe of hairs, immediately above the margin of the upper lip.

CHAPTER IX
LIKELY ORIGIN OF THE AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL

Deductions theoretical—Pre-historic men of Australia—Tennant’s Creek calvarium—Talgai skull—Other finds—Alterations in world’s ancient geography—Former land-bridges—Probable home of man in region now occupied by Indian Ocean—Early migrations—Three principal strains—Negroid—Mongoloid—Australoid—Tremendous upheavals at close of Triassic Period—Australia isolated—Early inhabitants unmolested—Primitive Australian anthropologically related to cultured Caucasian—Survival of the Stone Age in Australia—Living fossils—Short resumé—The mixing of European with aboriginal blood—What is a half-caste?

Having satisfied ourselves in regard to some of the principal somatic characteristics of the Australian aboriginal, we shall proceed to discuss briefly his likely origin. In the present absence of more material facts relating to his ancestry, and of a more thorough comparative knowledge of races in general, we are lamentably handicapped in this direction, and many of our conclusions are necessarily theoretical.

So far as possible, we shall take into consideration his present relationships to other living races and peoples, as well as his affinities with the ancient hunting peoples, who inhabited various parts of the world in bygone eras, and are now only known in a fossilized condition.

This introduces the geological element of time—hundreds of thousands, yea, millions perhaps, of years have passed since man left records of his being; definite traces have been found, embedded in the same deposits as contain the mammoth, on the one hand, and the Diprotodon, on the other.

The evidences of pre-historic and fossil men in the Old World are too numerous and well-known to need elucidation here; we shall confine our attention to Australian records.

Some years ago a specimen was submitted to me for identification which had been found in Pleistocene (or Pliocene?) gravels S.S.E. of the Tennant’s Creek district. It was so completely petrified and “stony” looking that the organic origin was doubted, but a thin section viewed under the microscope revealed the true structure of bone. After cleaning the fragment thoroughly, I recognized it as portion of a human skull, viz. the posterior half of the left parietal. The anterior fracture is vertical and at about the centre of the parietal eminence; the thin squamous edge is also broken away. The lambdoidal border is still quite characteristic and shows the complex nature of the parieto-occipital suture. Both the external and internal surfaces are rough and pitted through exposure, age, and mineral precipitations, but the temporal ridge is still discernible and can be traced posteriorly right up to the parieto-occipital suture. There is no indication of a parietal foramen. The bone is thick about the posterior inferior angle, but the groove of the lateral sinus has broken away. The specimen, when struck, has a clear metallic ring, like that of earthenware or porcelain. When treated with acid, the surfaces as well as the “bone-substance” effervesced briskly, proving that a thorough intermolecular substitution of organic matter by mineral was in progress. This calvarium, fragmentary though it is, is of considerable importance from a prehistory point of view, since it gives us another definite link in the somewhat meagre chain of evidence which has been established in connection with the geological antiquity of man in Australia.

The most important find of an extinct Australian type was made at Talgai, in south-eastern Queensland, as far back as 1884, in the shape of a fairly well preserved skull; but it was not until a few years ago that a description of it was published by Dr. S. A. Smith. Although no other bones were discovered in association with the skull, numerous remains of extinct creatures like the Diprotodon, the Nototherium, and horny reptiles have been unearthed not many miles remote from the site of the interesting discovery. Dr. Smith sums up his observations as follows: “This fossil human skull of a not yet adult Proto-Australian presents the general picture of a cranium similar in all respects to the cranium of the Australian of to-day, combined with a facial skeleton of undoubtedly Australian type, in the palate and teeth of which there are to be found, in conjunction with the most primitive characters found in modern skulls, certain characters more ape-like than have been observed in any living or extinct race, except that of Eoanthropus.”

Other less convincing discoveries have been recorded in the shape of human and dingo bones from the Wellington Caves, human remains and artefacts from beneath the basalts of Victoria, and the fossil footprints of an aboriginal in the upper Tertiary beds of Warrnambool.

It would seem, therefore, that sufficient facts have been forthcoming to prove that man was in existence at any rate in late Tertiary times; and since he was then perfectly developed, it would not seem unreasonable to assign to him a very much greater antiquity.

During these long ages, tectonic forces, and the ever active denuding agents of the atmosphere, in all their phases, have wrought considerable transfigurations in the surface of the globe. Some portions of the earth’s crust have been swallowed by the ocean, whilst others have been wrenched from the depths by upheaving processes. Thus the geography of our present world would be a terra incognita to the earliest progenitors of the human kind, who lived in the dim dawn of man’s ascending tendencies, while, on the other hand, we would require a new army of intrepid explorers to pave the way for civilization if we were suddenly placed back into the world as it stood in the beginning of primeval days.

Old land connections then existed between entities which now are parted by abysmal depths. Such evidence of once-existing continental links is afforded by what has been termed a “biological consanguinity” between organic creations on both sides of gaps now occupied by ocean water.

There is no novelty about all this. Our best scientists have long recognized that such connections have existed beyond all doubt. They become evident when one enquires into the present geographical distribution of botanical and zoological species, and when one correlates geological strata in different parts of the world, on the basis of palæontological evidence contained in them.

The same principles apply when we consider the probable original home of man, and the subsequent migrations and racial evolutions of the pristine hordes, which followed.

That once a chain of land linked together the shores of Australia, South Africa, and India seems certain. The continental masses, which in past eras supplied this link, zoologists have christened Lemuria, while geologists refer to the lost land as Gondwana. It is somewhere within the area once occupied by this submerged continent, perhaps not far remote from Australia, that we must look for the cradle of the species Homo. Although most of the evidence has been irretrievably lost to scientific investigation, much might yet be expected from any of the contiguous continents or islands in this region, upon which occur Tertiary or later sedimentary formations. The discovery of the oldest fossil, which appears to be human—the Pithecanthropus erectus—in Java, was by no means accidental. Professor Dubois, before leaving for that island to undertake a fossil-hunting expedition there, declared that in all probability he would discover the remains of a primitive creature related to man.

From some point, then, upon this ancient, vanished continent, perhaps no great distance north of our present Australia, we believe migrations of the earliest representatives of the human species took place. The directions in which these migrations took place would be governed according to the lie of the land as it was then determined by the impassable waters of the ocean. In all probability, the families or groups wandered in various directions, at first keeping more or less in contact and on friendly terms with each other, but as time, and eventually ages, wore on, these migratory groups, by selective culture, environment, climate, and, maybe, sundry other causes, became differentiated into peculiarly distinct strains, all of which we are nowadays able to reduce to three fundamental races.

One of these migrations was along a western course, which led the wandering groups into the region now represented by the continent of Africa. This established the Negroid element.

Another strain moved northwards and spread itself, like the rays of a rocket, across the land now known as Asia. Some of these “rays” reached what is now Lapland, while others found their way, via the region of modern Esquimaux Land, across to what we now call North America. This march evolved the Mongoloids.

Yet another body of primitive hunters, who interest us most, worked their way north-westwards, on a course between the former two, and took possession of any portions of the dry land of the globe, the present relics of which are India, south-western Asia, and Europe.

Then came the catastrophe! The exact period is not determined. It must have happened since the advent of the “human” type, but there the evidence fails. Upheavals or subsidences of land usually take an age to make themselves noticeable. It is scientifically established that the close of the Triassic period was characterized throughout the world by great tectonic changes. Beds of rock were faulted to lofty heights on one side, and to dizzy depths on the other. The height of the Blue Mountains plateau of New South Wales is evidence of such upheaval, whilst the broken coastline, with its “drowned” rivers and myriads of islands along the north-west of Australia, together with the coastal fringe of coral reefs along the north, are all evidences of comparatively recent subsidence en bloc.

By these processes Australia was gradually isolated from its former land-connections, but, being near to the original home of man, it is only natural to suppose that the land was peopled.

From that time on Australia remained, whether as an island continent or a group of associated islands does not concern us here, isolated from the rest of the world. The original inhabitants whiled away their time in comparative ease. They had nothing to fear. Their former companions who had, through their nomadic migrations, been so far removed from them, would, no doubt, have now posed as formidable rivals, if the barriers had not come between. Until the recent arrival of the European explorers and settlers, and the periodic visitations to the north coast by Malay bêche-de-mer fishers, this great Southern Land had remained the undisputed property of the comparatively sparse progeny of the first primitive possessors.

There were no ferocious animals to molest these early prehistoric Australians. Apart from a few dangerous, but usually non-aggressive, reptiles, the large animals were almost without exception of the ancient marsupial order, and, although perfectly harmless, offered excellent opportunity for the chase.

Thus it happened that the primitive hordes could roam at large in a congenial climate, and under peculiar conditions, which were everywhere much the same; and, in their subsequent wanderings, they met only with people of their own descent and inclinations. In consequence, they were spared many of the bloody brawls and conflicts, which the competitive waves of culture continually showered upon the other hordes that were struggling northwards under decidedly more adverse conditions of climate.

The great struggle for existence did not make itself felt so keenly to the ancient Australians because they were strictly insulated, and thus kept outside the sphere of exotic influence and interference; their only troubles amounted to an individual club-duel, or occasionally an inter-tribal warfare, which evoked more irate words than actual blood drawn by their sharply-pointed spears.

So the Australian has remained just what he was ages ago. And on that account the evolution of his pristine contemporaries, who were seized by the flood wave of culture, becomes the more comprehensible, when we measure the differences, but recognize the affinities, existing between the extremes. A line drawn across the map of the world indicating, so far as it is at this stage possible, the areas whose populations show, or before their extinction showed, the strongest affinities with him will represent roughly the direction of migration and incidentally of evolution of the Australoid strain.

This line of anthropological relationship connects the Australian (including the Proto-Australian) with the Veddahs and Dravidians of India, and with the fossil men of Europe, from whom the Caucasian element has sprung. In other words, the Australian aboriginal stands somewhere near the bottom rung of the great evolutional ladder we have ascended—he the bud, we the glorified flower of human culture.

In the living Australian then, we see the prototype of man as he appeared in Europe in the Stone Age. Australia has upon other occasions proved to be extraordinary in a scientific sense. The kangaroo is known only in the petrified condition in the Tertiary deposits in other parts of the world. The Zamia, which is still found living in Australia, is a conspicuous plant of the coal-measures in every other country. The ornamental mollusc, known as Trigonia, had been regarded as extinct until it was re-discovered in Australia. Most of the great river systems of central Australia have had their day; they have flourished in the past; yet, occasionally, after a prolific downpour, their dry courses swell temporarily to majestic streams. And, lastly, we see in the aboriginal yet another palæontological overlap—a living fossil man—the image of ourselves, as we appeared many ages before we learned to record the history of our progress, and of the world in general.

When one wades more deeply into the subject, only skimmed above, the following points suggest themselves to one: Our line of racial development was very early dissociated from the Mongoloid and Negroid lines; and geographically it ran between the latter two. There are considerable racial differences between the other races and the Australoids, the most highly specialized and cultured division of which is now represented by the modern Caucasian. The last-named deductions are entirely supported by the shallowness of the pigmentation in the aboriginal’s skin, and by the fair hair of children found among certain tribes of central Australia. In fact, the colour question, so far as the Australian aboriginal is concerned, is a relative conception, the difference in the amounts of pigment in his skin and in the “white” man’s being in all probability due to climatic influences extending over long periods of time. It is doubtful whether the primitive Australoid or the Proto-Australian possessed a skin so dark as that of the present-day Australian. We may now understand why it is that the quarter-blooded progeny derived from the union of a half-blooded aboriginal woman with a European father is always lighter in colour than its mother, and the octoroon lighter still. Unions further on the European side produce children practically white; and no case is on record where the colour in a later generation reverted to the darker again. The latter, we know, happens only too often when there is a taint of Negroid blood running in a family, even though the mixing of race took place generations back.

Apart from its great scientific significance, this matter is of considerable social and national interest to citizens of Australia, and we might well ask ourselves: “Are we justified in referring to the half-blooded aboriginal, with European parentage on one side, as a half-caste, or in even stigmatizing him as a bastard?”

CHAPTER X
AN ABORIGINAL’S BIRTH

Recognition of pending maternity—Peculiar beliefs in connection with the cause of pregnancy—Larrekiya legend and maternal dietary—Maiyarra’s accouchement—Birth—Twin births—After-treatment—Artificial termination of pregnancy—Preparing the new-born—Children’s lot decided by peculiar group-relationships—Parents’ affection—Children unclothed—How they are kept warm and reared—Different methods of carrying and nursing children.

It had been talked among the old men for some time past that the lubra Maiyarra was giving cause for suspicion. Her husband Pitjala agreed; to his knowledge there had been no occasion for her to leave his camp for some moons past. His mother, old Indarrakutta, had told him that when she and Maiyarra were gathering roots down by the Womma waterhole, many of the gum trees were covered with manna and they partook freely of the sweet meal, which, as he knew, does not often come to their district. The old woman had cautioned the girl and growled at her when she did not obey, because she knew Maiyarra was of the Yalliadni clan and should not be allowed to eat the manna. This disobedient gin had, however, not eaten much before she became sick and was obliged to lie in the hot sand of the creek where the bullrushes stand. Indarrakutta had stood aghast, Pitjala explained to the old men, when unexpectedly disturbing a snake from the bullrushes, she observed that the creature, in gliding over the ground, touched the body of Maiyarra with its tail and, in its great haste to disappear, had left portion of its glossy slough beside her. “Yakai,” gasped the men, as if from a single mouth, “then it is clear the ever wakeful spirit of Womma has caught the neglectful Maiyarra sleeping and it is certain she is with child.”

Such was the history of the case as narrated to us. It corroborated previous observations from central and northern tribes. The recognition of maternity is not connected primarily with any conjugal liberties a husband or number of tribal husbands may be privileged to enjoy, but more with the recollection of any accidental contact with an object by which it is supposed a spirit child can enter the body of a woman. The spiritual ingress may take place in a variety of ways, but as often as not it is believed to be by means of a hollow object of some description. In the present instance it was a snakeskin. On the Victoria River the gins have a dread of the whirlwind, thinking that if such should pass over one of them, a spirit child would immediately enter the woman. In the Cambridge Gulf country, young women very reluctantly go into a water hole in which lilies are growing, fearing that as they step over the leaves, which are hollow, a similar fate may overtake them.

In the ancestral days of the Larrekiya in the Port Darwin district, for instance, it is believed that a baby boy was once seen to spring from the burrow of a rabbit bandicoot; whence he had come no one knew. He was invited to come to the Larrekiya camp and live with them, but he refused. Some time after, when the boy had become a man, he was again met by the tribe, who once more invited him to their camp; but he declined as before. Thereupon the men became angry and dragged him to a waterhole, and threw him in. The stranger immediately sank, and five bubbles of air rose to the surface as he disappeared. The men sat down and watched the water, when suddenly the man’s face reappeared. The Larrekiya hurled a spear at him, and he was killed because they knew he had no father and no mother and was the accomplice of the evil spirit, who, it is asserted by the Wogait, makes a big fire, from the smoke of which he takes an infant and places it, at night, into the womb of a lubra; and she must then give birth to the child.

In the same district, when it becomes known that a happy event is pending, the husband goes out with his lubra and kills a certain animal or collects certain vegetable products, which he hands to the woman to eat, believing that these articles when swallowed will ensure a successful birth.

To return to our story: Maiyarra was groaning with pains in the abdomen. She was alone with the old woman Indarrakutta, who was her mother-in-law, well beyond hearing distance from the main camp. A small fire was burning sluggishly by their side and throwing a thin column of bluish white smoke into the air. Maiyarra was sitting upon a small patch of ground cleared of the burrs, with her legs stretched before her. She was propping her writhing body, sloping slightly backwards, with her arms against the ground. The old woman sat closely behind, with her arms thrown around Maiyarra’s waist, and with her lower limbs, bent in the knee, enclosing and pressing against the younger woman’s buttocks on either side. Occasionally the old woman would relinquish her hold and make for the fire, over which she warmed her hands to subsequently massage the patient’s abdomen. Now and then she might even rub warm ashes over it. Then the two sat in patient expectation, and, whenever there came a pain, the old woman would tighten her grip, while she spoke encouragingly to the parturient Maiyarra. This method is very generally employed, except that when the final stage has arrived, the Arunndta and other neighbouring tribes in central Australia request the gin to squat on her toes, with her buttocks resting over her heels.

The event is almost invariably spontaneous. In my experience I have very rarely seen complications, and then usually when the lubra has been living under civilized conditions.

Twins are very exceptionally seen; we do not mean to imply, however, that multiple births do not occur more often than one sees or hears of. No authentic observations are available to satisfy our curiosity in regard to this point. We have been repeatedly assured that when twins are born, one has arrived as the result of the evil spirit’s witchcraft. The child, one is informed, will do no good for itself, and, on account of the evil within it, it will contaminate others with whom it comes into contact, and, if it were allowed to grow up, it would be in league with the evil spirit, whom it would look upon as a brother, and to whom it would betray all the tribal secrets. The evil spirit would carry this information to the enemy and their tribe would surely be wiped out of existence. In consequence of all this, the suspected one of the two infants is destroyed, usually by one of the old women in attendance, who places a red-hot coal in its mouth or smothers it with sand.

The placenta is waited for, and then the umbilical cord is severed two or three inches from the child’s abdomen in one of the following ways: It may be twisted off, cut with a sharp fragment of shell or splinter of rock, or pinched off with the finger-nails, or even bitten off with the teeth. Another method is to batter it through with a stone, after which the small remaining portion is packed with warm ashes. When it falls off, it is tied around the child’s neck with a piece of fur-string, where it is worn for a while as an amulet. The placenta is either burned or buried.

Intentional interferences with pregnancy are rare among the unsophisticated tribes, but rather frequent when the natives are living under more civilized conditions. At Fowler’s Bay a gin, who wishes to rid herself of prospective motherhood, collects a number of black beetles, known as “yarralyi,” which she roasts and reduces to powder. Of the powder she rubs some into her armpits, and some over her breasts and pubes.

PLATE VIII

Old Kai-Kai, the leading medicine man of the western Arunndta.

“The medicine man is not so much an individual who has the knowledge of medicinal values of herbs and surgical practices as one who is the recognized sorcerer....”

(Note also the emu-feather skull cap, light-wood shield, and “Kutturu.”)

The newly-born infant, as it lies upon the sand, is rubbed all over and dried with ashes; then it is usually transferred to a sheet of bark or a trough-shaped bark food-carrier, in which it is carried about during the first few months of its existence, the mother, at feeding time and other odd moments, taking it up into her arms. On Sunday Island the bark food-carrier, there known as “oladda,” is used as a cradle; one often might see a busy mother, attending to duties which occupy her hands, putting her child to sleep by simultaneously rocking the receptacle containing it with her foot ([Plate XI]).

The Aluridja smear ochre, ashes, and fat over the body to protect it against the hot wind and the flies. Some of the south-eastern tribes, now practically extinct, did likewise.

Among the Kolaias near Cambridge Gulf the common practice is to apply mother’s milk to the infant’s body and sprinkle it with charcoal. In their endeavour to make a young mother’s breast as productive as possible, the Aluridja and Arunndta burn sticks of the mulga and stroke the breast with the charred ends.

The Arunndta singe the infant’s hair with a fire-stick and rub the skin over with charcoal to bring about a darkening of the colour as speedily as possible.

In the same way as girl-piccaninnies are assigned to their tribal husbands before even they are born, according to certain group-relationships, so are the boys of the Port George IV district apportioned by the same law to the old men, whom they must obey, when called upon, throughout the term of the elders’ lives.

An aboriginal gin is often charged with callousness towards her offspring. Such an accusation, apart from proving the informant’s ignorance, amounts to a slanderous injustice. The aboriginal mother is as fondly attached to her babe as most white women are to theirs, and the way she can endear herself to it is pathetic. The men, too, exercise a chivalrous and honourable guardianship over the innocents of their tribe as well as over the children of any white settlers, who happen to reside in their district. Those who have lived among the Australian natives, like the northern squatters, know only too well that under ordinary circumstances their children could not be in safer custody than when entrusted to the care of the aborigines.

An infant is never clothed. On Sunday Island a single strand of human hair-string is tied around its hips and pubes. Such is, of course, in the first place to decorate the body, and secondly to charm away the evil-bringing spirits which may surround it.

To bring warmth to an infant during the night, it is cuddled by its mother or other near relative; during the day, when the mother’s hands are otherwise occupied, a piccaninny is often kept snug in its bark-cradle by bedding it upon, and sprinkling it with, warm ashes.

A child is not weaned until it is at least three or four years old; at times it is kept at the breast for even a year or more longer. Nevertheless, a mixed diet is offered the suckling very early in life; one often sees a baby, but a month or two old, vigorously sucking the smooth head-end of a big bone and apparently thoroughly enjoying the treat.

Different methods have been devised to assist the gins in carrying their infants with as little inconvenience as possible when on the march.

When the babe is very young, the bark-carrier is indispensable; it is either carried under the arm or cleverly balanced upon the head. In the latter case a circular cushion or ring-pad is first placed on the head to steady the weight.

One precaution is constantly preached to young mothers, namely, not to allow the child’s legs to hang over the edge of the wooden carrier lest they grow crooked.

The tribes north of the Great Australian Bight swing the infants in skins or plaited vegetable fibre mats over their backs, the corners of the receptacles being tied in front of the mother’s neck. The nearly extinct tribes of the lower River Murray and surrounding districts, as far as western Victoria, used to adopt the same method.

When the child attains a riper age it sits in the bag-shaped receptacle, its head being the only exposed part of its body which is visible. The natives maintain that they originally learned this dodge from the kangaroo, which carries its young in a pouch.

When the child is a little older and has arrived at the toddling stage, it is allowed to ride pick-a-back style upon its mother’s back, where it secures its position by catching hold of the gin’s shoulders, neck, or breasts. Another favourite method is for the gin to straddle the child upon one of her hips and hold it there with her arm.

Occasionally the child sits upon either parent’s shoulders and hangs on to the elder’s head or hair. More for the excitement created than as a recognized way of transport, the parent, usually the father, may seat the child upon his head and hold both his arms up for the rider to clasp. After a short run with its father in this position, the child usually asks to be let down again.

The most peculiar custom is that in vogue among the Wongapitcha of the Tomkinson and other associated ranges in central Australia. The child is laid across the small of the mother’s back, face forwards, and is kept in a horizontal position by partly lying upon the gin’s buttocks; it is supported by the mother’s arms, one of which is held beneath its neck, the other beneath its knees. By adopting this method of carrying, the gin has both her hands free. The same method is adopted during the transport of a favourite dog, the women maintaining that it is a very comfortable occupation in the cold weather because the animals help to keep them warm ([Plate XVI], 1).

When off duty, that is when not on the tramp, hunting, or wood-collecting, a gin will carry, rock, and caress her offspring much like a European mother does, by tenderly clutching it in both her arms.

If work permits, the mother often sits on the ground and lays her offspring across her lap; by lifting her thighs towards her body, she forms a trough, in which the babe lies most comfortably.

On the north coast one might occasionally see a gin swinging her babe upon an aerial root or branch of a tree, or upon the flexible stalk of a tropical climbing plant.

PLATE IX

1. Men of Kolaia tribe, Cambridge Gulf, wearing the hair tied at the back around a pad of emu feathers.

2. Wongapitcha men wearing ornamental wooden hair-pins known as “elenba.” Note charcoal rubbed over the foreheads.

CHAPTER XI
CHILDHOOD

Much freedom given to children—Entertained and amused by parents—Taught songs and dances—Drawing tracks in the sand—Importance of learning to track—Playing with sand, mud, and water—Sliding and mud-balling—Tobogganing—Tree-climbing practice—Chasing wind-driven objects—Spearing moving targets—“Hand-ball”—“Catch-ball”—“Tip-cat”—Throwing contests—“Hide and Seek”—Toys—Playing at “Father and Mother”—“Dolls”—Fireless cooking—Toy throwing-sticks—Sham-fights and hunts—Emu game—Toy boomerang—Toy raft—The “Kukerra”—Spinning tops—“Cratch-cradle”—Children rarely attend ceremonies—Discipline and obedience—Girls trained by mothers—Boys taught how to make and use weapons—Girls’ stick practices—Spartan principles—Animal and bird pets.

So soon as the child is able to walk and run, independently of its mother, it is allowed every freedom, but never far away from the watchful eye of its parent; quite occasionally, however, one might meet with a toddler roaming about the bush all alone, and miles away from the main camp. Recently we saw a little chap near Running Waters on the Finke River, who would wander away from camp and spend days alone in the sandhills. The only nourishment he could find during his absence was a handful of small bulbs, which grew along the sandy banks of the Finke. It must be mentioned that this little fellow was an orphan, and nobody seemed to take much notice of his absence for the first day or so, after which a near relative would set out, pick up the wanderer’s track, and bring him back to camp.

Parents devote much of their time to the entertainment and amusement of their children; but the economical side of play is never forgotten. If during a game, a practical wrinkle can be taught, which will prove useful when the playful moments are left behind and the more serious stage of life is entered, the opportunity is never missed.

Much time is spent in the evenings teaching the younger generation songs and dances, which allude to ancestral traits, to the tricks of the chase, and to the damage the evil spirits can do. The notes and calls of the different wild animals and birds, with which the tribe has daily to do, are cleverly imitated and explained, disregardless of the numerous repetitions, which are begged, to satisfy the childish curiosity. For instance, the plover is by the Western Arunndta called “kurreke tata,” which is softly and musically rendered in imitation of the bird’s familiar cry. The plover is described as a rain-maker, which is able to bring the water from a cloud whenever it desires. Even the European settler often refers to this bird as a “rainpiper”; the connection between the species and rain no doubt having arisen from the fact that plover usually follow up showers and remain in the vicinity of any pools which collect upon the ground. During any rain-making ceremonies the plover is frequently mimicked. Another of their favourite items is the imitation of a whining and howling dingo, which they accomplish with wonderful accuracy.

The dances, too, are largely imitative. One of the most popular of the Arunndta repertoire is the frog-dance. The child adopts a sitting attitude and passes its arms from the outside, behind the knees, and forwards to the ground. In this position, it moves about on “all fours,” with a peculiar hopping motion, adding greatly to the hilarity of the meeting.

Great pleasure is evinced by the beaming young faces when an adult prepares to draw pictures in the sand. A small circular patch of ground is cleared by the entertainer, and the children seat themselves around it. Having smoothed the surface with the palm of his hand, he proceeds to “draw” by scratching the design into the sand with a small pointed stick. Although the pictures are crude, and often nothing short of puzzles to the European, the artist talks all the while to the children in such a convincing way that, even assuming their eye incapable of comprehension, their interest is excited or persuaded to such an extent as to almost render the few lines in the sand a living reality. “Here is the man,” explains the artist, as he draws a vertical line, “walking about” (a number of small holes are tapped into the sand), “he sees a lizard” (a longer line on a slope crossed by two shorter bars at right angles), “away it runs” (pairs of taps slantingly opposite to each other), “the man after it” (single taps between the former pairs), “he throws a boomerang” (the familiar shape of the weapon is outlined), “the lizard goes down a hole” (a hole is scratched into the ground), “the Kurdaitcha take it, it is gone!” (he slaps the spot with the flat of his hand). “Yerrai! What is that? A snake!” (emerging from the hole he draws a curved line), “the man has lost his boomerang but he hits the snake with his waddy” (the curved line is smacked several times with the small drawing stick the artist holds in his hand). “I, i, i! he has finished (i.e. killed) it.” And so the narration might go on for a considerable time.

Commendable pains are taken by the adults in imitating the tracks of all the animals of chase, and the children are invited to compete in reproducing them. For instance, an “emu track” is obtained by pressing the inner surfaces of the index finger and thumb, held at an angle of about forty-five degrees, into a smooth patch of sand; then, without lifting the index finger, the thumb is moved to the opposite side and there pressed into the sand, at about the same angle as before. Often the impression of the “pad” of the bird’s foot is indicated by dabbing the round point of the thumb into the sand immediately behind the intersection of the three “toes.”

A kangaroo track is simple, and is made by imprinting a finger or big toe twice in the sand, an inch or two apart, so that the resulting marks are two parallel grooves supposed to represent the impressions of the long central toes of the marsupial. A shorter mark is made at the centre of either of these, at an angle of about forty-five degrees, to indicate the lateral toes, when the track is complete. At times a small scratch or hole is made at the end of each of the “toes,” to suggest the claw-marks.

A dog track is made with the fingers alone. The tip of the thumb makes an imprint, which is to represent the pad, whilst the finger-tips supply those of the four toes, ranged in a semi-circle about the former. The claw-marks are added in the same way as described of the kangaroo track.

A human track is imitated by imprinting the outer edge of a half-closed hand, the left hand being used for the left foot and the right for the right. This impression will give the ball, the outer surface, and the heel of the required track; the toe-marks are dabbed in with the finger-tips.

Where the camel is known, its track is reproduced. A piccaninny is momentarily sat upon a smooth patch of sand and lifted away again; the imprint of its stern supplies the outline for the required track. The lower half of ridge left in the sand by the cleft between the child’s buttocks is obliterated, when the “track” is ready for the never-failing applause. Occasionally the upper angles, representing the camel’s toes, are improved by making them more acute and deepening them to show where the claws are supposed to have cut into the ground.

The study of animal-spoors in all their specific and various intricacies, and especially the art of individualizing the human foot-print, rank among the most important and earliest occupations of the aboriginal child’s mind. Parents are required by law to see that the children receive constant instruction and exercise in this department. It is a common thing for a mother to purposely slip away from her child and not to respond to the imploring wail, which follows when her absence is discovered. The only sympathy some relatives or friends might proffer is to direct the child’s notice to its mother’s tracks and at the same time urging it to follow them up.

Whereas the average European can distinguish between the tracks of a dog and a cat, it is a decidedly more difficult matter for him to discriminate between those of a mastiff and a wolf on the one hand and, say, those of a sheep-dog and a fox or jackal on the other. The aboriginal, however, learns to recognize not only the class, or species, or variety, as they are known to us, by the spoors, but can particularize each single individual. By looking at a track, for instance, which we can only describe as a “dog track,” an aboriginal can immediately tell us whether it is that of a “wild-dog” or of a “whitefellow-dog,” whether the animal is young or old, male or female, and whether it passed over the ground sometime to-day, yesterday, the day before, or a week ago; finally, he will tell us whether he has ever seen the dog, and, if so, he will probably know who the owner is. And all this information comes at a glance!

The children love basking in the sand; and spend hours playing with the glistening white and red drifts so plentiful in central and northern Australia. Little mounds are built, upon which they sit to defy the others to topple them; and oblong holes are scratched, into which some of the younger are laid and almost completely covered with sand. When the buried ones presently throw the sand from their bodies, the rest of the players scamper off with a hullabaloo and tell their elders the Kurdaitcha (devil-devil) is coming.

Along the north coast of Australia, the mud-banks of the tidal rivers are a great source of amusement. When the water recedes during the heat of day, the young folk make for the blue mud-banks to indulge in sport and play. Mud-sliding is usually the first item of the programme. Taking a long run over the firmer ground, the performers reach the mud-bank with considerable velocity, and in consequence of this, they slide over the slimy surface in much the same style as our children in the Old Country do over the ice. They maintain their balance with their arms. The sliding is effected either singly or in long chains they form by joining hands. They endeavour to make their slide reach the water, which, if they are successful, they enter with no end of splashing and shrieking “Ai! Ai! Ai!”

Another method often tried is to run and then take the “slide” lying upon chest and belly. As one is sliding this way, he turns his body round its long axis and eventually disappears into the water. To the observer a child sliding in this way looks deceptively like a stranded dugong or other big fish endeavouring to make back to water. Occasionally one of the sporters breaks the monotony of the game by negotiating the “slide” with his stern. Or he may bring along a small oblong sheet of bark, upon which he sits or kneels and propels himself along with his foot. In modern language this toy might be called a “mud-scooter.”

On Cambridge Gulf the girls have evolved yet another variety of this sport. One lies flat on the mud, face downward, whilst another stands behind her. The one lying now places her arms forwards and holds the palms of her hands together; at the same time she bends her legs to a rectangle in the knees, and keeping them together she holds them rigid in that position. Now the girl standing behind seizes the legs of the one on the mud at about the ankles and pushes the human sleigh along the “slide.” As a special favour a piccaninny might be allowed to take a seat upon the sliding girl’s back.

In the same district the boys delight in carrying each other pick-a-back to the brink of the softest mud, to precipitate the rider backwards into the slush or into the water.

To break the monotony, the children place themselves in a row, each with a number of flattish pebbles previously collected on the dry land, and take it turn about to pelt the surface of the water at a very sharp angle in order to make the stone ricochet as many times as possible.

A new game is begun by the girls stamping the water with their feet, as at a corroboree; the boys are preparing for a sham-fight. They cover the whole of their body, including the hair, with thick mud, which they maintain is the same as the ochre the warriors apply to their bodies when on the war-path. They pick sides and stand face to face on a bank, about half a chain apart. Upon a given signal they commence bombarding each other with mud-balls! One is reminded of the snowballing feats of European school children. The lads endeavour to dodge the mud-balls thrown by their adversaries with as little movement as possible, by just contorting the figure or lifting a limb to allow a missile to fly harmlessly by. Much gesticulation takes place during the friendly combat, and often does one hear an excited “Ai! Ai!” announcing the fact that a player has effected a narrow escape. The climax, however, is not reached until a hit is recorded, and a ball, too carefully aimed, spatters the body of a neglectful opponent. When the game is over, all participants rest for a while upon the surface of the muddy bank, then dive into the water and wash the slush from their heated bodies.

At Kurrekapinnya Soakage in the Ayers Ranges the bare, inclined surface of a granitic outcrop is utilized by the children for tobogganing. The same track has been in use for so long that the “slide” has become remarkably smooth from the constant wear. The tobogganer gathers a bundle of rushes at the soakage and makes for the top of the outcrop. There he places the bundle upon the polished “slide,” sits upon it, and starts himself moving down the slope. Considerable speed is attained by the time he reaches the bottom of the rock, whence he shoots into the sand adjacent to it. The performance is repeated over and over again.

The Victoria River tribes arrange competitions among the boys in tree-climbing, the lads being required to clamber up a number of selected trees, and down again, in the quickest time possible.

On Bathurst Island a favourite amusement of the younger folk on a breezy day is to collect the light globular seed-heads of the “spring rolling grass” (Spinifex hirsutis), that grow on every sandhill near the coast, and take them to the beach to release them on the hardened sand. Driven along by the wind, these seeds travel over the surface at no mean pace. Allowing them to gain a fair start, the children bolt after them, endeavouring to overtake them and pick them up from the ground while dashing past at full speed in “cow-boy” fashion.

In the same locality the children assemble on the beach and compete in running and long jumping.

The Arunndta and Dieri children collect the dry tussocks of the “roly poly” (Salsola kali) upon a windy day and take them to a big clay pan. There they liberate them, and, as the wind whips them over the level ground, the youthful gang makes after them with toy spear or boomerang, each endeavouring to either stake a tussock with the first-named weapon or shatter it with the latter.

In the Fowler’s Bay district the tussock is replaced by an artificial target, such as a ball of fur-string, which is rolled over the surface by an elder.

The Arunndta boys on the Finke River cut discs out of the bark of eucalyptus trees, which they roll over the hard ground and chase with toy spears. In the same district I have seen the bark disc replaced by an iron ring the boys had been given by a teamster; this was carefully kept in one of the huts and only produced when the lads were at liberty and felt inclined “to tilt at the ring.”

PLATE X

1. A juvenile “blonde,” Aluridja tribe.

2. Ponga-Ponga gin carrying pet opossum on her head while on the march.

A modification of the game was observed in the Humbert River district, Northern Territory. Two parties, of about half-a-dozen each in number, take up positions opposite each other and about a chain or chain and a half apart. A circular piece of thick green bark is thrown overarm by a member of one party swiftly towards the other, so that it strikes the ground a little distance in front of the latter and rolls along the ground past them. The waiting party stand in a row, with their spears poised, and each in succession rushes forward to pierce the rolling disc by hurling his missile at it. If one is successful the fact is immediately announced by loud cheering. Then one of the party, who have thrown, returns the disc in a similar way to the opposite side whilst several of his fellows collect the spears for the next turn. Thus the players are alternately “active” and “passive.” Special short wooden spears are used, about five feet long, pointed at one end. The disc is shaped out of an irregular piece of bark by biting off the angular points until a more or less circular piece is obtained. Men and youths play for hours at a time at this game, which they call “gorri”; and even children are tolerated by them, although the last-named are often growled at and told to keep out of the way ([Plate XIII], 1).

A kind of hand-ball is practised on Bathurst Island. The seeds of the Zamia (Cycas media) take the place of a small ball. Two lads stand facing each other and hit the seed to and fro with the palms of their hands, after the style of a modern game of tennis. On the Victoria River, the children made similar use of the green seed capsules of the cotton-tree.

In the Meda district of north-western Australia, players at the same game employed flat pieces of wood resembling cricket bats, the balls being fashioned out of the woody fruits of the Pandanus.

Catch-ball is played by the children of all Australian tribes. The “balls” might consist of anything; the Arunndta of the Finke River country use the seeds of the Macrozamia Macdonnelli, the natives of Melville and Bathurst Island Zamia and Pandanus seeds, the Larrekiya of Port Darwin small bags stuffed with fur, the scrotum of a kangaroo being often used for the purpose. It is surprising, however, that despite the quickness of their eyes and the keenness of their sight, the natives, as a rule, are very backward at catching with their hands any object which is thrown at them.

The boys of the Arunndta and Aluridja tribes construct a small cylindrical stick sharpened at both ends, which they lay on the ground; then, with a longer stick held in the right hand, they strike one end of it, to make it bounce into the air, and, as it rises, hit it with considerable force. Competitions are held to see who can, by this method, drive the small object farthest. The game is much the same as our familiar “tip-cat.”

From Sunday Island I have already recorded a peculiar type of throwing contest, which the girls were indulging in at the time of our visit. Two rows of seven or eight each were standing a couple of chains apart, and, whilst facing one another, were bombarding their opponents with consolidated cakes of cow-dung. The missiles were thrown with considerable skill, even by the smallest girls, due allowance being made for the curvature in flight. It was part of the game to dodge the flying bodies, and, whenever a hit was recorded, a triumphant cheer would ring from the opposite side. In rushing wildly about the space, the light calico skirts of the playing damsels would fly high in the air, exposing their slender limbs beneath. In their eagerness to hit, and avoid being hit, they repeatedly exclaimed: “Arre minya, arre minya.” Some of the more experienced throwers showed their proficiency by using flat slabs of stone in lieu of the cakes of dung.

The games we generally refer to as “hide-and-seek” are known to the tribes of Australia. In one game a number of persons hide behind bushes and boulders and are sought by one or more children; in another an article is hidden by one and looked for by the rest of the party. The players endeavour to mislead the “seeker” by obliterating their tracks and substituting them by all sorts of “back-to-front,” “devil-devil,” and other deceptive tracks. When a “find” is made there is a loud, jubilant cry; and the “hider,” unless he can escape in time, is pommelled by the “seeker”; the players do not, however, run back to a crease or “home,” as we do in the European game.

Once one considers toys supplied by adults for the special benefit of children, the question resolves itself into an analysis of endless possibilities of creation achieved by the happy combination of inventive mimicry and lucid interpretation. It would be as futile to attempt an exhaustive discussion upon so big a subject as it would be to even try to describe all the artificial objects one classes as toys, however crude they might appear, which are manufactured for the purpose of entertaining and instructing the child. And, indeed, the young folks themselves are neither idle nor behindhand in augmenting the collection of playthings supplied by others.

Most of these articles are, however, made on the spur of an impulse and serve their purpose just for the time being.

One of the favourite occupations of the children of all Australian tribes is to build small brushwood shelters and wurlies for themselves to sit and talk in like grown-ups. Occasionally they occupy these miniature domiciles as “father and mother,” but more often as “father” or “mother,” with a number of “children” to “look after.”

When the “children” are not available as living playmates, inanimate objects, such as stone, bits of wood, leaves and flowers, are selected to take the “children’s” place. These receive names and are placed in a row before the “foster parent,” who talks to them and frequently changes them about. But the best part of the game is when one of the “children” is supposed to misbehave itself, and in consequence must receive a good flogging with a stick, kept handy for that purpose. At other times one of the objects is taken up, nursed, and spoken to most affectionately.

Here then we have the idea of the doll, simple though it be. But after all, simplicity in method, so far as the training of children is concerned, is perhaps the readiest means of stimulating the imitative, and with it the creative, force which Nature has endowed them with.

The doll is usually just a plain stick or stone, with perhaps some distinguishing feature upon it, like a knob at one end which represents the head. Occasionally it is painted with red ochre. Dr. W. E. Roth found that on the Tully River in Queensland a forked stick is chosen so as to permit the child fixing it on its neck like a mother carrying her baby, with its lower limbs dangling over the shoulders.

Imaginary fireless cooking is also a pastime the little girls never tire of. A shallow hole is scooped, into which a few handfuls of cold ashes are thrown; this represents the fireplace. Upon the ashes is laid a pebble, a leaf, or any other article which they make up their minds to “cook.” Having covered it with sand in the orthodox way, the girls sit and talk, whilst they make themselves believe the dish is in course of preparation. They invite each other to the prospective feast, each explaining what she is cooking; one might have a wallaby, another a lizard, and still another a yam.

Quite apart from accompanying their mothers on the regular hunting expeditions, the little boys often go out alone. They carry toy weapons, with which they say they are going to slay a kangaroo or anything else happening to come their way. In the Fitzroy River district the young hunters collect, or cut out of a gum-tree butt, several pieces of bark, dry or fresh, and shy these into the crown of a boabab (Brachychiton Gregorii), hoping to fell a nut or two. If they are successful, they proudly return to camp with their spoil and obtain permission to roast it at the fireside. The small bark missiles are looked upon by the boys as quite equivalent to the “kaili” (boomerangs) of their fathers; and there is no doubt they can throw them with greater skill. I have seen the little fellows stalk a flock of foraging cockatoo and, when within range, fling several of the toy weapons into the birds as they are rising; invariably one or two birds are brought to fall.

PLATE XI

Rocking a child to sleep.

“On Sunday Island the bark food-carrier, there known as “oladda,” is used as a cradle; one might often see a busy mother, attending to duties which occupy her hands, putting her child to sleep by simultaneously rocking the receptacle containing it with her foot.”

The trimmed stalks of bullrushes and reeds make excellent toy spears, which are thrown with the heavier end pointing forwards and the thinner end poised against the index finger of the right hand. With these “weapons” the lads have both mock fights and mock hunts. In the latter case, one or two of their number act the part of either a hopping kangaroo or a strutting emu and, by clever movements of the body, endeavour to evade the weapons of the hunting gang.

One of the favourite pastimes of young and old among the Kukata is to play at “emu.” The players take a stick, about three feet long, and tie a bundle of grass, brushwood, or feathers to one end of it, to represent the neck and the head. The performer clasps this stick with both hands and holds it erect in front of him; then he bends his body forwards from the hips, whilst other persons cover him with skins, and tie a tussock of grass over his stern to indicate the tail. The actor next begins to walk around, as truly as possible imitating the actions of the bird he is representing. As he walks, he nods his “head,” while some of the children scamper round him in great excitement, others flee from him shrieking with terror. After a while he stops short, turns his head and shakes his body, finally running away in a zig-zag course. As he runs, he frequently imitates the peculiar deep note of the old emu and occasionally the shrill whistling cry of the young. A most amusing little incident, which I saw in connection with this game, happened near Mount Eba. A man, fully rigged as an emu, was entertaining the camp with some very clever, bird-like antics, when suddenly a vicious mongrel darted at the performer from a wurlie he was passing. The “emu,” without any deliberation at all, dropped its head, scampered across the ground, hotly pursued by the dog, and, in its terror, climbed the nearest tree.

The King Sound men construct miniature “kaili,” barely an inch in length, and practically straight, which they project, before the admiring eyes of their juvenile audience, by using their fingers only. The little toy is held between the second and third phalanges of the left index finger, so that a good half of its length projects above the hand. The inner tip of the right index finger is pressed strongly against the outer surface of the left thumb and suddenly allowed to slip over the top edge and strike the projecting part of the toy. The little slab of wood is jerked into the air, whirls through space in a parabolic curve, and, when well managed, returns to the hand of the projector. The children often try this feat, but, with the exception of a rare fluke, never succeed; in fact, it is not every adult man who can do it.

On Sunday Island, small models of the raft (“kaloa”), locally used, are made for the children to play with. These toys are exact replicas of the craft described in a subsequent chapter and are neatly constructed in every detail.

A kind of dart is made by the children in the Northern Kimberleys of Western Australia out of the root ends of grass seed-stalks, six to eight inches long. These are held, one at a time, between the palms of the hands parallel to, and between, the middle fingers, beyond which they project but a fraction of an inch. In this position the hands are turned so that the fingers point towards the body. Then taking careful aim at an object, the child throws its hands vigorously forwards, at the same instant opening them and shooting the dart in the desired direction.

Among the Dieri, Yantowannta, and Ngameni, principally, and to a less extent among the Arunndta, Aluridja, and Kukata, a playing stick is found which is commonly known by the name of “kukerra.” Although a toy, the men only were observed to use it, not only to amuse the children, but for the benefit of the whole camp. The kukerra is a slender, club-shaped stick made out of the Mulga. Its length is about three feet six inches, of which the thickened end occupies something like nine inches; the head, i.e. the swollen portion, is up to an inch or slightly more in diameter, whilst the “stick” is not thicker than an ordinary lead pencil; each end terminates in a blunt point. The Dieri kukerras are lighter and more slender than the Arunndta or Aluridja. The playing stick is seized at its thin end and, swinging it with a straight arm, it is made to strike a bush or tussock in front of the thrower; whence it bounds through the air in an inclined position, and, after striking the ground, glides along the surface in a snake-like manner.

Natives are fond of spinning any suitable objects which fall into their hands; small pebbles, gall-nuts, and the larger varieties of conical and bell-shaped eucalyptus fruits are all made to spin upon a level surface just to amuse the children. The Yantowannta, Wongkanguru, and other tribes of the Cooper Creek region are very clever at moulding tops out of clay, with real pegs, upon which the toys revolve. These tops are undoubtedly an indigenous invention. The spinning is usually accomplished by rubbing the toy between the palms of both hands.

Skipping is indulged in by little boys and girls alike. A long vine is used by the Wogaits on the Daly River, which is swung to and fro like a pendulum by two of the players, whilst others jump over the line as it passes beneath them. The “rope” is not swung overhead.

At Engoordina, Arunndta children and women were noticed to entertain the tribe by artful tricks with an endless piece of string. By an intricate method of inter-looping and threading, a long cord, tied together at its ends, so as to form a complete ring, is transformed into different patterns of squares, triangles, and circles, the composite groups of which are intended to represent different natural objects. The string is held at different points, according to the complexity of the design, by the fingers, toes, and mouth of the performer; occasionally, indeed, the services of an assistant are required to support the pattern whilst it is being constructed. The more elaborate articles when completed resemble a loosely netted or knitted fabric, the plainer are more after the style of a few loops or meshes lightly held together. Some of the designs bear a recognizable resemblance to the objects they are intended to represent (e.g. birds, animals, men, etc.), others appear to be (to the European at any rate) rather far-fetched. Very often a complicated-looking design can be instantly reduced to the original piece of string by simply pulling one of its component loops or ends.

Dr. W. E. Roth has very ably described a series of such figures, made with one or two endless strings, which he found to be commonly constructed throughout north Queensland, where the tribes play a game resembling the European “cratch-cradle.”

Children are not allowed to attend many tribal ceremonies; consequently one does not often see them with their bodies decorated or ornamented. There are occasions, however, when their presence is tolerated, such as, for instance, at receptions to relatives who are returning from a fight or long hunting expedition. White earth or kaolin is invariably used for beautifying the appearance, it being maintained that it is unwise to apply much red, the token of blood, to the body of one who has not sacrificed some of his blood during the course of such ceremonies as will elevate him to the status of the tribe’s manhood. The kaolin is applied in the form of a thick paste in a series of thin lines. On Sunday Island these lines pass from the centre of the shoulder, on either side, diagonally to and along the breast-bone; and horizontally across the thighs and forearms. The face has a smear of white straight down the nose, and two semi-circular lines, which enclose the mouth and converge to a point opposite the ear on either side. The child in addition wears a belt of twisted human hair-string, from which pends a pearl shell ornament; it might also carry a plume of white cockatoo feathers in its hair. There are slight variations in the patterns and designs chosen for child-decoration both in the same tribal group and among different tribes, but no matter what part of Australia is considered, the effect completed is decidedly less elaborate than the complex and ornate colour schemes seen in the ceremonial displays of performing men. The children take no active part in such proceedings, but usually walk or stand about at points where they do not interfere with the proceedings in general. There is no objection to the child carrying one of the boomerangs of its father, but under no conditions is it permitted to handle a spear-thrower.

Children are early accustomed to discipline and obedience. They are not required to obey any but their individual fathers, tribal fathers, and tribal uncles. They need not pay heed to the orders of their contemporaries, but only to the word of such as they consider “grew them,” that is, men of a previous generation to themselves. Women need not be obeyed by law, but, with the knowledge and sanction of a father, a mother can chastise and punish a child as much as she pleases. The father reserves the right to interfere at any moment.

The little girls accompany their mothers whenever collecting rambles are undertaken. They receive instructions in the methods of locating and gathering grubs, lizards, seeds, and roots; and during this time they are required to daily handle the yam-stick in the correct manner as shown them by their seniors. Subsequently they are taught how to clean, cook, and prepare the meals to be placed before the men.

The boys are early in life schooled in the practices of carpentry, so far as they are applied to the making and shaping of domestic utensils and weapons with the few crude implements at their disposal.

Further, they are instructed in the knacks and arts of handling and throwing weapons of chase, attack, and defence. The lads take to this instruction enthusiastically. For instance, whilst being taught the art of boomerang-throwing, one might daily see a youngster, even in the absence of his master, posing in the attitude demonstrated to him, without actually letting the piece of wood, which answers the purpose of a weapon, go out of his hand ([Plate XIV], 1).

Boys are not allowed to handle real boomerangs, spears, or shields before they have undergone the first initiation ceremony. If they did so, the offence would be looked upon as an insult to the dignity of the men who have qualified and are thus entitled to the privilege of carrying such weapons on parade. The offence is in fact, on a point of decorum, similar to the case of a fellow in the “rank and file” wearing the sword or insignia of his superior officer.

When, at a later stage, the elder boys of the Northern Kimberleys of Western Australia become well-skilled in throwing, sham-fights are arranged. Pieces of bark are broken from the mangroves, out of which the combatants make missiles resembling straight boomerangs. Sides are picked under the supervision of the men and the signal given to start. In a moment the air becomes alive with the whirr and buzz of the flying pieces of wood, which the youths throw straight at one another. Often severe gashes and wounds are inflicted upon the bodies of the “fighters,” but such are taken in good faith and looked upon as being part of the game.

As a means of self-defence and protection against such throwing-sticks and the small toy-spears previously mentioned, the Arunndta construct for their boys light bark shields. A piece of green bark is cut out of the butt of a eucalyptus, oblong-oval in shape and about two feet long and six inches wide. Two holes are cut in the central line of this piece, about six inches from either end, and through them two or three fairly stout, green twigs are stuck, from the under, concave surface, to form a handle. The points of these twigs stick out from the top surface, some two inches, but they are left to prevent the ends of the handle from slipping out. The bark is then bent in the required shield-shape and dried over a slow fire or in hot ashes ([Plate XIV], 1).

The girls, too, are encouraged to indulge in stick-practice to prepare them for the “kutturu” duels they will have to take part in, in later years. The principal mark is the foot, which each alternately tries to strike, while the other is “on guard” with her stick. At other times they stand face to face, with the palms of their hands pressed tightly together. Presently one voluntarily bows her head, when the other immediately gives her a severe crack over the scalp with the small finger side of her hands. Then the other has a turn; and the process may be repeated. The object of this strange procedure is to “harden” the head in anticipation of the real blows it will receive in time to come. To make the performance appear genuine, the girl, whose turn it is to strike, may be heard to feign a curse: “Atutnia, arrelinjerrai!”

The child’s mind is early imbued with the importance of hardening the body and nerve against pain, and thereby making the system less susceptible to the hardships of life, which they know to be inevitable.

The system of personal mutilation, described in a subsequent chapter, has to a certain extent been evolved for a similar reason.

Camp life brings many little accidents with it, but the Spartan principles which are cultivated lead to an almost complete ignorance of the existence of pain as might be brought about by small cuts or burns. Just for the sake of competitive amusement, the boys of the Kukata tribe take a live coal from the fire and lay it upon the naked skin of their forearm. A red-hot coal, about the size of a pea, is usually selected for the purpose and momentarily “cooled” or “blackened” by covering it with a handful of sand. The black coal is then placed upon the forearm at any suitable spot and touched with the red-hot point of a firestick. The coal on the arm immediately turns red again and in that condition is allowed to remain there until it falls to white ash. The first effect is naturally to raise a blister, but this is soon burnt through and the raw skin is exposed, upon which the coal gently fizzles. Whilst this is going on, the boy is seen to bite his lips together and to clinch the fist of the suffering arm, as if to suppress the pain. The lesion will, of course, leave a permanent scar. Some of the lads have many of such marks upon both arms, and they seem quite proud of them.

In the camps of any of the tribal groups throughout Australia, who are still enjoying an uncontaminated life, one might see captive birds and animals temporarily tethered or kept for the amusement of children. Such are usually brought home by the men returning from their hunting expeditions. A young wallaby, for instance, is let go on an open flat and all the children set after it. They are not allowed to hurl stones or sticks after the fleeing game, but must retake it alive by the use of their hands only. Although it is against the rules to harm a captured animal, it is a curious circumstance that a native, even if grown up, invariably forgets to feed it, although entertaining the idea of keeping it alive. Occasionally, however, it happens that a creature survives and looks after its own needs; in this case the animal or bird becomes a real pet and is not made the object of children’s coursing matches any more.

The King Sound natives catch the small ring-tailed opossums, which live in the mangroves, and hand them to their children. The Ponga-Ponga gins become very attached to these marsupial pets, which they carry about with them on their days’ outings planted in the locks of their hair. The opossums seem quite contented to abide there whilst their mistresses are on the march and hang on by means of their claws and tail ([Plate X], 2). Occasionally one might even see an affectionate gin suckling her pet at her breast.

On Sunday Island several cockatoos were kept by a fishing party in their camp not far from shore. The birds had their flight feathers pulled and were allowed to roam about the country in search of food. The cockatoos seemed to regard the huts as their home, to which they invariably returned; they had, moreover, picked up many phrases of the aboriginal tongue.

Although the native animals and birds of Australia have always been, and still are, the daily object of aboriginal chase, it is a remarkable fact that great friendships are made between the hunter and his would-be prey when the latter is in captivity. Indeed, the instinctive fear of an animal or bird is ever so much greater when a white man approaches than when a native does. I have seen cases where semi-wild cockatoos, magpies, and other birds have allowed themselves to be handled by natives without much concern, but the moment a European attempted to do likewise, the bird would become unmanageable, terrified, and vicious. Partly domesticated birds seem to have a predilection for perching themselves upon the legs of their native masters when the latter are sitting or lying on the ground. Talking of instinct reminds me of the occasions I took aborigines to the Zoological Gardens to see the favourite attraction, viz. the “monkey-wurlie.” Whilst European visitors were coming and going, the apes would appear unconcerned, phlegmatic, and blasé; but the moment the dark-skinned people arrived, the animals would instantly become electrified and bounce towards the iron bars, which they seized and shook frantically. The natives, on the other hand, would evince no fear, but endeavoured to edge as close as possible to the monkeys, although they had never seen one before. The monkeys, in appreciation of the coloured visitors’ benignity, would grin, wink their eyes, and make guttural noises.

At the time of my visit to the Forrest River Mission Station, a tethered monkey was kept on the premises. The natives regarded it as a real “little man,” and many of them, especially the children, were on excellent terms with it, but this could not be said of some of the old men. The monkey and the children were inseparable, and usually at play; but occasionally disputes arose which always ended in an open tussle, during which hands, teeth, and finger-nails were used. Although young humanity did not always fare best, the monkey would never take a mean advantage nor resort to extreme tactics. When it found itself victorious, it would jump triumphantly on to its perch and cry “Arre Arre.”

CHAPTER XII
THE DAY’S MARCH

Orders of the day—Selection of camp site—Feminine water carriers—Great variety of bark vessels—Skin water-bag—Bailers and drinking cups—Natural water supplies—Water-bearing trees—Modes of drinking.

“When another sun will come, and when he is still a piccaninny, Punya umberri (everybody) will walk to the big stone (hill), lying in the gum-trees, where Kuddoguddogu (a landmark) holds up the clouds of the Pindanol’s country. Narrawiddi and Wetninnya will carry my angamma (bark-wrap with small personal belongings), and all other women will take many naramarragam (bark food-carriers) and fill them with yams on the way. Plenty water sits upon the ground. The men will run the kangaroo’s track with me.”

Upon an order like this from one of the old men, the following day’s itinerary is cast. Brief though it seems, it is sufficient because, although the chances of the coming expedition might widely separate the members of the group, they keep in constant touch with each other by signs and signals best known to themselves.

The site for a camping ground is thus always selected by one of the old men in authority. Preference is given, other things being equal, to a spot near to a natural water supply. There are, of course, numerous occasions when there is no water available. When, for instance, the natives are hunting in the sandhills during a good season, they either carry water with them for miles, or rely on the succulent parakylia and other water-holding plants.

It falls to the lot of the women to carry water upon such occasions. The fluid is contained in bark carriers of different designs, which they either skilfully balance upon their heads or carry under their arms. The water is kept from splashing over the sides, in the first place by the naturally graceful gait of the women; but, at the same time, an intentional addition of twigs and branchlets further checks any undue movement of the fluid which might be produced in the vessel during the march.

The Dieri, Yantowannta, Ngameni, Arunndta, Aluridja, Wongapitcha, and other central Australian tribes use shield or trough-shaped carriers cut out of the bark of the eucalyptus, shaped and hardened over the fire. The shield type is flat, with more or less open ends; the trough type has higher sides and ends, and is therefore more capacious. There is, however, no hard and fast division between the two. The surfaces of these are either smooth or longitudinally grooved with a stone scraper. The largest were observed on Cooper’s Creek, measuring three feet in length, one foot in width, and five inches in depth, while those of the Arunndta and Aluridja are not quite so long and wide, but they may be deeper. The utensils go by different names, according to tribe and locality; three of the most commonly heard are “mika,” “pitchi,” and “cooleman.” In addition to taking the place of water-holders, they are also used as food-carriers.

North of the MacDonnell Ranges, similar articles are cut out of solid wood, usually the Northern Territory Beantree (Erythrina vespertilio).

The Warramunga and Kaitish (or Kaitidji) tribes in addition make large canoe-shaped carriers out of similar material. Two varieties are met with. The first is more or less flat-bottomed with steeply inclined sides coming to a sharp edge at each end; the second is uniformly curved, shield-like, with all its sides standing at about the same level at the open end. The former is grooved longitudinally on the outside surface only, the inside being left in the rough; the latter is finely grooved on the inner, as well as the outer surfaces. Both types are generally painted over with red ochre. It is a decidedly laborious job to remove the wood, which originally fills the inside of this carrier, a fact which will be realized when one considers that it has all to be done by burning with live coals, and gouging and scraping with stone implements.

The Sunday Islanders take a rectangular sheet of bark of the woolly-butt eucalyptus, fold both ends for a distance of three or four inches, into pleats (like a concertina), and stitch them together with split cane. The utensil is used throughout the north-west coast as far as Cambridge Gulf.

On Bathurst and Melville Islands similar structures are made out of the bark of the paper-bark tree (Melaleuca). An oblong piece is bent upon itself lengthwise, both its ends folded, as in the previous case, and kept together by binding with cane or by spiking with short wooden pegs.

The same pattern, slightly modified here and there, is found along the shores and islands of the Gulf of Carpentaria and the Cape York Peninsula. We might say, therefore, that it occurs throughout the entire length of the north coast of Australia.

Another type, perhaps more food than water-carrier, is common on Melville and Bathurst Islands; it is made of a single piece of the “stringy-bark” eucalypt. An oblong sheet, say a good yard long and nearly half as wide, is freshly cut and folded transversely at its centre. The edges of both sides are pared down, laid flat, one over the other, and sewn or laced together with plain or “run-on” stitches. A row of slanting and overlapping stitches is often inserted along the open edge a short distance down; and occasionally part of the same edge may be cross-hemstitched and plastered with beeswax; the object of these stitches is to prevent the bark tearing along the fibres. The mouth of the carrier is nearly circular, or at any rate oval. Ordinarily the bark is left in its raw condition, but upon special occasions elaborate designs, consisting of circles, and other figures, with cross-hatched line-patterns, are drawn on the outer surfaces in red, yellow, white, and black.

An article is in use locally among the Worora at Port George IV, which perhaps interests us most on account of its similarity to the orthodox water-carrier employed by ourselves, viz. the bucket. What makes the fact more interesting still is that this unique type of water-vessel is found in a locality, than which even at the present time none other is further remote from civilization. The bark-bucket of the Worora, known vernacularly as “wirrauwa,” is beyond doubt an indigenous evolution. It is much like a bushman’s billycan in shape—a cylindrical vessel closed at one end and with a handle at the other, measuring from four to twelve inches in height, and from six to nine inches in width. A circular piece of woolly-butt bark is cut for the base, and this is surrounded by another sheet which forms the cylinder. The joints are carefully stitched together with threads of split cane, using a bone-awl to prick the holes; then melted resin from the eucalyptus tree is applied over the seam to render it water-tight. The edge of the open mouth may be strengthened by cross-stitching and applying resin. The handle is made of human hair-string, several pieces of which are threaded diametrically across the open end of the bucket, through holes previously made with a bone-awl, and tied. The outer surfaces of the vessel are often painted. The usual device consists of alternate bars of red and white or red and black, joined at the top and bottom by horizontal lines of red; occasionally the whole surface may be splashed or daubed with white, or the above designs may be embellished with regularly spaced dots and “emu tracks.”

Lastly we shall briefly refer to the skin water-bag which is used (or has been used) by the desert tribes of central Australia, from central Western Australia to Western Queensland. A kangaroo, wallaby, euro, or dingo is killed and the animal’s skin removed almost in toto by making a circular cut around its neck, and, whilst one or two men hold on to the head, others detach the skin from the carcase and pull it off inside-out. The neck-hole forms the mouth of the bag, but all the other openings are tied, stitched, or pinned together. The limbs are cut off near the paws, the tail near its root, and the resulting holes securely tied with string. The limb-pieces are tied together and act as straps to assist the native carrying the bag when filled with water.

To fill these vessels with water, bailers are available either in the form of specially constructed or of naturally occurring objects; no matter which they are, they usually also answer the purpose of drinking cups. Along the north coast of Australia the large melon shell is perhaps the handiest; it is either used as it is found or its inner whorls and columella are broken away, leaving just the spacious outer shell to hold the water like a bowl. The same remarks apply to the large Fusus pricei, and other molluscs.

The Narrinyerri and other tribes south of Adelaide used human calvaria as drinking vessels. The facial skeleton of a complete skull was broken away so as only to leave the brain-box; and this held the water.

The broken shells of the large boabab nuts are similarly used in the Northern Kimberleys of Western Australia, and now and then the broken shell of the emu egg also makes a very serviceable cup.

A miniature bark-cooleman is constructed by the Wongapitcha, Aluridja, and Arunndta tribes, like that described on [page 92], about eight inches long and half as wide, which serves the purpose of a bailer, drinking-vessel, fire-shovel, and special food-carrier. It is strongly convex lengthwise, and therefore comparatively deep.

The Bathurst Islanders tear or cut a piece of bark from a tree, usually the ti-tree or “paper-bark,” out of which they fashion a cup. The piece of bark measures about twelve inches in length, and eight in width. It is first folded longitudinally at about its middle, and then both ends of the doubled piece are folded transversely at about one-quarter the whole length. The overturned parts of the inner sheet of the first fold are clasped between the fingers on the inside and the thumb on the outside, when the cup is ready for use.

The natural water supplies available over so vast an expanse of territory as is embraced by the continent of Australia and its subjacent islands, occur, as one might have expected, in great variety. There is no need for us to consider such familiar supplies as rivers, creeks, lakes, billabongs, waterholes, and springs; we shall just briefly consider a few of the more uncommon cases, which are of special interest. The native has a wonderful instinct for locating hidden supplies of water; and many a European wanderer has perished in the Australian bush, within a stone’s throw of the life-saving fluid, all for the want of that gift, which to the primitive inhabitant of the desert central regions means his very existence.

Along the superficially dry, sandy beds of “rivers” in arid Australia, he is able to pick sites, at which, by shallow digging with his hands and yam-stick, he can in quick time produce a “native well,” sufficient to supply the needs of all the camp. The water is often exposed within a foot or two of the surface, but at times he has to dig to a depth of from five to six feet, which so far as my experience goes seems to be the limit. When not in use, or when the camp moves on, the natives always take care to cover the mouth of the well in order that wild animals cannot reach the water and pollute it. When the well is deep, its sides are made secure with pieces of timber and brushwood, and cross-pieces are left to serve as a ladder whereby the native can attain the water. Similar wells are constructed in the catchment basins adjacent to the hills.

PLATE XII

Juvenile Types.

1. Full-face, female, Wongkanguru tribe.

2. Profile, female, Aluridja tribe.

Rock-holes in granite (Musgrave Ranges), quartzite (Krichauff Ranges), or limestone (Nullarbor Plains) are favoured on account of the cool, clear water which they generally contain. Where such are of a cavernous nature, and opening from a bare inclined surface, the natives often build a small bank of clay across the slope to direct the flow of water, resulting from a downpour, towards the hole. A unique variety of this type was discovered by us at Ullbönnalenna, east of the Musgrave Ranges. Through a hole in the barren slope of gneiss, a communication has been established by atmospheric denudation with a small reservoir below. To obtain the water contained in it, the natives keep a broom-shaped piston handy, with which they pump the fluid to the surface, as required. The piston is merely a rod, about five feet long, round one end of which a bundle of brushwood is securely tied with string. The size of the brushwood bundle is such that it exactly fits the hole in the rock (about six inches). The implement is inserted, brushwood foremost, and slowly pushed down into the water, and, after a short interval, quickly withdrawn again. The water, which had collected behind this “piston-head,” is thereby forcibly ejected, and is collected inside a small enclosure of clay built around the hole.

The aborigines are most particular about preserving their water supplies against pollution, especially where such is brought about by excremental and decaying animal matter. In the Musgrave Ranges, the natives did not in the slightest object to our camels being watered at the supplies they were dependent upon, but when the animals dirtied the rocks above the hole and there was a chance of the discharge running into the water, they immediately set to and built a barrier of earth to intercept the flow before it reached the hole.

In the Northern Kimberleys of Western Australia valuable pools of water collect upon the boabab trees. The branches of this species surround the “gouty” stem in a circle at the top, like the heads of a hydra, and by this means form a concavity between them, which is capable of storing a considerable volume of cool, clear rain-water. To reach this water, the natives construct ladders by simply driving a series of pointed pegs into the soft bark of the tree one above the other.

Certain desert trees like the Currajong have the property of retaining considerable quantities of water in their tissues, even under the worst conditions of drought, for periods of many weeks or months. This water the native obtains by felling the tree and setting fire to the crown; the water oozes out from the cut trunk and is collected in bark carriers. The “Bloodwood” (Eucalyptus corymbosa) has similar properties.

In the Denial Bay district a remarkable mallee (Eucalyptus dumosa) grows, whose roots supply the natives with water. This mallee is a rather big tree, which lives in association with other smaller species of the same genus. It appears, also, that not every specimen of the particular species referred to contains water; it requires the experience of an aboriginal to predict which of the trees is likely to carry such. Having selected his tree, the native proceeds to expose one of the lateral roots, which grow in the sand at no great depth from the surface. The root is then cut in two places, three or four feet apart, and lifted from the ground in a horizontal position; finally it is turned on end over a bark cooleman, when water, clear as crystal, begins to drip from the lower end into the vessel. Sufficient water can thus be collected to sustain the camp, if need be, for even a longish period.

Other trees in central Australia are known to possess similar properties though to a lesser extent, as for instance the Needle-Bush (Hakea lorea, var. suberea).

When, after a good day’s march, the natives have the luck to strike a big waterhole, each of the party immediately quenches his thirst by literally “filling up” on the spot. Different methods are adopted to accomplish this. Some prefer to remain prone at the water’s edge, whilst others wade into the deeper parts of the hole, and, placing their hands upon their knees, stoop and drink off the surface.

The Cambridge Gulf tribes pull a long-stalked leaf of the water-lily, which, after they have cut it at top and bottom, acts like a tube and permits them to suck the cooler fluid from a depth.

After quenching his thirst, a native will on a hot day often cool his system by pouring water on to his head. The women-folk and children are very fond of splashing the head with cold water, which they might do repeatedly during the day, provided the opportunity is afforded. Bathing during the heat of the day is also commonly enjoyed by all the northern tribes, especially those resident in the tropics where water is abundant.

CHAPTER XIII
CAMP LIFE

Preparation of camping ground—The bed and its coverings—Sleeping order—Brushwood shelters—Various habitations—Vermin-proof platforms—Common position during sleep—Friendly meetings and salutations—Sitting postures—Sense of Modesty—Bird-like attitude—Gins procure firewood—The campfire—Methods of cooking—Fire-shovels—Fire-stick—Fire-whisk—Fire-saw—Women the recognized transport agents—Care of weapons—Sundry occupations while in camp—Absence of wearing apparel—Pubic coverings—Cosmetics—Hair-belts—Pristine philosophy—Removing thorns—The aboriginal loves his dog—The dingo.

Having arrived at the chosen camp-site, each family group at once busies itself clearing a patch of ground of any obstacles, like stones and lumps of earth, the biggest of which are picked up by hand or crushed by foot, the smaller brushed aside with the sides of the feet. In addition, the women may be told to sweep the ground with branches to clear it of grass-seeds and burrs. Should it be that the spot is only reached after dusk, the natives set fire to one or two dry bushes, the glare of which supplies them with the necessary light.

Each adult scoops a “bed” for himself on the sand, and lights a small fire on one or both sides of it.

The northern coastal tribes very often spread sheets of paper-bark over the sand, and they might also cover their bodies with similar material. Should the mosquitoes become a great nuisance, one often sees them completely covered with sand.

The south-eastern tribes of Australia, including those of the River Murray and Adelaide Plains, used skins and rugs made of kangaroo and opossum skins, neatly sewn together, to lie upon and under.

PLATE XIII

1. The game of “gorri,” Humbert River, Northern Territory.

2. A “Kutturu” duel, Aluridja tribe.

The children sleep with or close to their parents. When an aboriginal has more wives than one, his camp is subdivided according to their number, and he sleeps with his favourite.

The strangest conditions reign on Groote Island in the Gulf of Carpentaria, where the women practically live apart from the men during the whole of the day, and only come into camp after sundown to deliver the food supplies they have collected over day. When on the march, every adult female carries two big sheets of paper-bark with her, which she holds with her hands, one in front and another behind her person. Whenever a stranger approaches, they duck behind these sheets of bark, as into a box, for cover.

No matter when or where an aboriginal camps, he constructs a brushwood shelter or windbreak at the head-end of his resting place. This consists of a few branches or tussocks stuck in the ground or piled against any bush, which might be growing upon the patch of ground selected. Under ordinary circumstances, this is the only shelter erected.

Even under the best of conditions, the night’s rest of an aboriginal is hard, and at times very cold and wet. It is not an uncommon experience for a person to sit up part of the night, hugging a fire, and when the sun is up to lie in its warmth to make good the sleep lost.

During a run of wet weather or when the camp is to be of a more permanent nature, different kinds of structures are erected, or already existing habitations selected, which will afford a better shelter than the crude structures referred to.

Natural caves or shelters beneath a sloping wall of rock, although frequently chosen as a mid-day camp, are not favoured on account of the superstitious dread of the evil spirit, whose haunts are supposed to be in the rocks. Caves are in any case only occupied during the heat of summer, the rocks being considered too cold to sit and lie upon in winter. If possible, a tribe will always make for the sandhill country in the winter, the sand making a very much softer and warmer bed. Such caves as are regularly occupied almost invariably have the walls and ceiling decorated with ochre drawings.

The opportunity of camping under large hollow tree-trunks, when available, is never neglected in wet weather. In the southern districts, as for instance the Adelaide Plains and along the River Murray, the large red-gums, especially such as have been partly destroyed by a passing bush-fire, supply the best covers of this description, whilst on the north coast of Australia the boabab occasionally becomes hollow in a like way, and makes a very snug and roomy camp.

Huts are constructed after different patterns according to the materials available. In the Musgrave Ranges, as in most parts of central Australia, the usual plan is to ram an uprooted dry trunk of mulga into the sand in an inverted position, so that the horizontal root system rests at the top, generally about five feet from the ground. Making this the central supporting column, branches of mulga and other bushes are placed in a slanting position against it, so that they rest between the roots at the top and form a more or less complete circle at the base, measuring some eight or nine feet in diameter. An opening is left, away from the weather-side, large enough to permit of free access. The spaces and gaps between the branches are filled with small bushes, tussocks, and grass, and on top of it all sand is thrown.

Very often the branches are placed around a standing tree for a central support, and now and again they are simply made to rest against one another in the required conical fashion.

Roof-like shelters are made by piling branches and brushwood either upon the overhanging branches of a tree or across two bushes which happen to be standing close together.

On Cooper’s Creek, in the extreme south-western districts of Queensland, these huts are more carefully constructed. A solid, almost hemispherical framework is erected consisting of stout curved posts, with a prong at one end, so placed that the prongs interlock on top and the opposite ends stand embedded in the sand in a circle. Vide [Plate XV], 1. The structure is covered with the long reeds that abound along the banks of the large waterholes of the Cooper. Some of the huts are indeed so neatly thatched that they have quite a presentable appearance.

The eastern Arunndta groups, in the Arltunga district, cover a light framework of mulga stakes, erected after the general central Australian pattern, entirely with porcupine grass ([Plate XV], 2).

At Crown Point, on the Finke River, other groups of the same tribe cover their huts with branches and leaves of the Red Gum.

When camped on the great stony plains or “gibbers” of central Australia, it is often very difficult to find a suitable covering for the huts, the vegetation being either unsuitable or too scanty. On that account the Yauroworka in the extreme north-east of South Australia utilize the flat slabs and stones which abound in that locality to deck their more permanent domiciles with. The supporting structure must, of course, be made particularly strong to carry the weight of the stones. The crevices between the stones are filled with clay to render them water-tight, and earth is banked up against the base of the walls both inside and outside.

Along the north coast of Australia, from the Victoria River to Cape York, the prevalent type of hut is a half-dome structure, whose frame consists of a series of parallel hoops, stuck into the ground and held in position by a number of flexible sticks tied at right angles to the former with shreds of Hybiscus bark. The ends of the cross-pieces are poked into the ground on that side of the framework which will be opposite the entrance of the hut when completed. The hoops are made of slightly decreasing size from the entrance towards the back, and so correspond in height with the upward curve of the cross-pieces. This skeleton-frame is covered with sheets of “paper-bark” (Melaleuca) and grass; and the floor of the interior is carpeted with similar material; a small space is however left uncovered to hold the fire. Such a hut measures about five feet by five feet at the base, and is four feet high. In Queensland palm leaves may take the place of the paper-bark sheets.

In districts where the mosquitoes are very troublesome, the dome is completed by erecting hoops on the open side as well, and making the cross-switches long enough to be lashed to them all and to be stuck into the sand at both ends. The whole structure is covered with bark, but three or four small holes are left along the base for the people to slip in by; and a ventilation-hole is left at the top of the dome to allow the smoke to escape from the fire, which is burned inside to keep out the insects.

Provisional rain-shelters are made by cutting a big sheet of bark from one of the eucalypts, usually the “stringy bark.” To do this the bark is chopped through circumferentially on the butt in two places, about seven or eight feet apart, slit vertically between the two incisions, and removed by levering it off with two chisel-pointed rods. The sheet is folded transversely at its centre and stood upon the sand like a tent.

At times the sheet of bark is simply laid length-wise against two or three sticks previously stuck into the ground. In the more durable structures of this type, two forked poles are rammed into the ground so that they can carry a horizontal piece after the fashion of a ridge-pole of a tent. Against the latter then are stood several sheets of bark at an angle of about forty-five degrees.

Occasionally a scaffold is erected with four poles and cross-pieces at the corners of an oblong space, and sheets of bark are then laid across the top. The sheets are of sufficient length to hang over the sides of the frame so that their weight bends them into an arch along the centre.

Commander Lort Stokes found similar structures near Roebuck Bay in the north of Western Australia, but in place of the bark they there had a slight, rudely-thatched covering.

In districts where thieving dogs, ants, or other vermin become troublesome, the men construct platform-larders, upon which any reserve supplies of meat are laid. Hawks are the greatest nuisance in camp. It is astonishing with what fearlessness such birds fly right into camp and swoop the meat from the natives. As a protection against theft of this description, the campers cover their stores with branches.

The position favoured during sleep is to lie upon one side, with the legs drawn up towards the stomach and bent in the knees. The head rests upon one or both hands; should one hand not be so occupied, it is usually placed between the closed thighs. At Delamere in the Victoria River country, the natives were observed to have convex pieces of bark in their possession which were used as head-rests during the night.

It goes without saying, of course, that the aboriginal might at any time change his position during sleep to one of the many commonly adopted by European or other people.

During the warm summer months, the campers are up with the first glimpse of dawn, but when the nights become cold, they often remain huddled by the fires until the sun is high up in the sky.

When a messenger or visitor approaches a camp at night, he will not do so without announcing his arrival in advance by loudly calling from afar to the groups at the fireside. Should a person be discovered prowling the surroundings of a camp, without having heralded his coming, he runs grave risk of being speared, on the chance that he be on no good business.

In the way of salutations, hand-shaking and kissing are unknown, but when two friends meet it is quite the usual thing for them to walk together for a while, hand-in-hand. When a person, who has been long absent, returns to camp, everybody is so overcome with joy that he starts crying aloud as if his joy were grief.

On the occasion of friendly Arunndta groups visiting, all members of both parties, male and female, approach each other with their spears, boomerangs, shields, and fighting sticks. The visitors first sit down in a body while the others walk around them, in a widening course, flourishing their weapons high in the air and shrieking with joy; later they return the civilities by acting similarly.

When seating himself, an aboriginal always prefers the natural surface of the ground to any artificial or natural object, which might serve him in a manner suggestive of a chair. Rocks and fallen tree-trunks might occasionally be used, and children are sometimes seen sitting upon the lowest big branches of trees, especially if they slope downwards to the ground. But even in these cases they rarely allow the legs to dangle, preferring to draw them, bent in the knee, close against the body, and usually with the arms thrown around the legs or resting upon the knees.

The men use the same method, when squatting at ease upon the ground, keeping their thighs apart, heels touching and close against the buttocks, with their elbows resting upon their knees and their hands usually joined in front. When the hands are to be used, the sitter acquires greater stability by placing the feet further apart and swinging the arms over the knees.

Another common posture is to double the shins under the thighs and rest them half-laterally upon the ground. This method is frequently combined with the previously mentioned by holding one leg one way and the other the other.

From either of these positions, the sitter may change by tucking the shins well under the thighs and rolling on to the side of one of his thighs.

Again, he may change by simply stretching his legs forward full length.

These methods are made use of by men, women, and children alike. Unless it be that the person prefers his legs to remain in close apposition, whilst squatting in any of the positions indicated, he will endeavour to hide his shame behind one of his feet. This is particularly characteristic of the women, and their natural sense of decency is prettily described in the narration of the voyage in search of La Perouse as follows: “Though for the most part they are entirely naked, it appears to be a point of decorum with these ladies, as they sit with their knees asunder, to cover with one foot what modesty bids them conceal in that situation.”

By their method of standing at ease on one leg, the natives of Australia have evolved a remarkable posture which reminds one of birds. In this position, a man rests the sole of his unoccupied foot against the knee of the standing leg, and usually props his body with a spear-thrower ([Plate XVI], 2).

Strictly speaking, it is the duty of the women to gather firewood, although very often, when there is a supply close at hand, the men will also drag a few logs to the family camp. The women, on the other hand, are required to collect sufficient to keep the fire going, during the day for cooking purposes and during the night for warming and lighting purposes. At times this entails weary searching and long-distance marching. We have already referred to the way they lift the pieces of wood from the ground, between the toes of one foot, to the hand on the opposite side, by passing the piece behind the body; the same hand next stacks the wood upon the head, where the other holds and steadies it. By this method, the gin has no need to stoop, and can in consequence build up astonishingly high piles of wood upon her head ([Plate XVII]). A small pad is usually first laid upon the head to prevent the scalp from chafing and the wood from slipping. Arrived at the camp, a gin throws her load to the ground and breaks the longer pieces across her head with her hands.

A native’s idea of a good fire is to keep it as small as possible, but, at the same time, to derive a cheerful glow from it. His opinion of the European traveller’s camp-fire is that it is so ridiculously big that one cannot lie near to it, without being scorched. In the winter the native often selects a large dry log if available and keeps this aglow at one end throughout the night; in the absence of such a log, he will at frequent intervals find it necessary to attend to his fire during the cold hours of the night. So diligently, indeed, does he nurse his fire that his eyes often become inflamed in consequence of the continued irritation by smoke when he fans a smouldering flame with his breath.

A small fire like this, especially when it has burned for some time, is quite sufficient to cook all the smaller articles, which constitute the daily bill of fare, as for instance roots, tree-grubs, and lizards.

When, however, big game like a kangaroo is to be prepared, larger fires are essential and special culinary rules observed. A method, which has been in use practically everywhere in Australia, and is still found in use among the uncontaminated tribes, is to burn a big fire for a while upon a sandy patch, and then to lay a number of flat stones upon the red-hot coals and cover everything with sand. After a while the sand is scraped aside and the oven is ready for use. In the Northern Territory the stones are substituted by brick-like lumps broken off one of the tall termite-hills, which abound in that country.

In south-eastern Australia and along the River Murray the stones selected are usually composed of travertine or limestone.

In the Musgrave Ranges oven-stones are not in use, the game being simply laid upon, and covered with, hot ashes and sand.

“Big” cooking is done by the men, whilst the women are required to attend to the preparation of all smaller articles like yams, grubs, and seeds.

PLATE XIV

1. Arunndta boy practising with toy shield and boomerang.

2. Wordaman warrior, holding prevalent north-western type of spear-thrower and wearing pubic fur tassel.

Slight variations are noticed in the method of cooking a kangaroo according to the locality. In the Musgrave Ranges, the animal is prepared whole. The skin is not detached, whilst the bony paws may, or may not, be removed beforehand in order to secure the sinews, which are used all over Australia for tying purposes in the manufacture of their implements and weapons. The carcase is laid upon its back and completely covered with hot ashes and sand, and thus permitted to cook. When sufficiently, and that according to our ideas often means only partly, cooked, the skin can easily be removed. The belly of the baked carcase is cut open and the gut laid aside. What remains is then pulled to pieces by hand and the portions distributed among all members having a right to such. The meat is tender and juicy when cooked this way. Even the intestines, after their contents have been squeezed out by the aid of two fingers, are eaten by the less privileged members of the tribe. The Arunndta call the last-named dish “uttna kalkal.” Most of the bones, if not crushed between the jaws, are shattered between two stones and the marrow eaten.

The Wogait and other tribes on the north coast break the legs of the animal and tie them together in pairs with shreds of Hybiscus bark. The carcase is opened at one side to remove the entrails, and an incision is also made into the anus to clear it. In the case of a kangaroo, the tail is cut off and cooked separately in ashes. The skin is not removed. When thus prepared, the animal is transferred to an oven as described above and first covered with a piece or two of “paper-bark,” then with hot sand and ashes.

In order that they may readily scoop out a fireplace, scrape the sand to and from the roast, and handle the meat, vegetable, seed-cake, or whatever the article in the oven might happen to be, the Northern Kimberley tribes have invented a long wooden shovel. This is a slightly hollowed blade, about three feet in length, four inches wide at the lower end, and decreasing in width at the hand end. The implement is mostly cut out of a sheet of eucalyptus bark.

The central tribes generally make use of a discarded or defective boomerang, which seems to answer the purpose very well.

Perhaps the most important article a native possesses is the fire-stick. No matter where he might be, on the march or in camp, it is his constant companion. Important as it is, the fire-stick is only a short length of dry branch or bark, smouldering at one end. It is carried in the hand with a waving motion, from one side to another. When walking in the dark, this motion is brisker in order to keep alive sufficient flame for lighting the way. A body of natives walking in this way at night, in the customary Indian file, is indeed an imposing sight. Directly a halt is made, a fire is lit, to cook the meals at day and to supply warmth during sleep at night. When camp is left, a fresh stick is taken from the fire and carried on to the next stopping place.

In consequence of carrying the fire-stick too close to the body during cold weather, most of the natives have peculiar, irregular scars upon abdomen and chest which have been caused by burns. The Wongapitcha call these marks “pika wairu.”

If by accident the fire should become extinguished, a fresh flame is kindled by one of the methods depending upon the friction and heat which are produced by rubbing two pieces of wood together. Two methods are in use, all over Australia and the associated islands to the north; the one is by means of the “fire-whisk,” the other by the “fire-saw.”

In the first-mentioned case, two pieces of wood are used, usually a flat basal piece, with a small circular hollow in its centre, and a long cylindrical stick, rounded at one end. The native assumes a sitting position with his legs slightly bent in the knees. He places the flat piece of wood upon the ground and holds it securely beneath his heels. The rounded point is now inserted into the small hollow, and, holding the stick vertically between the flat palms of his hands, the native briskly twirls it like a whisk ([Plate XXII]). The twirling action is, however, not backwards and forwards, but in one direction only. After a while, the wood dust that accumulates by the abrasion begins to smoke, then smoulder. Suddenly the native throws his stick aside, and quickly stooping over the smoking powder, gently blows upon it whilst he adds a few blades of dry straw or other easily inflammable material. When the smouldering dust has been coaxed into flame, more straw and twigs are added, then larger pieces of wood, until eventually a blazing fire results.

Often a small notch is cut at the side of the central hollow in order that the smouldering powder might find its way down to a piece of bark placed beneath the basal stick, and there, by the aid of gentle blowing, ignite the dry grass, which was previously laid upon the bark for that purpose.

Usually, during the process of twirling, a little fine sand is placed upon the hollow to increase the friction. A curious practice was observed among the Larrekiya at Port Darwin, which seems to be opposed to the friction principle. When the fire-maker has, by careful twirling, adjusted the point of the upright stick, so that it fits nicely into the hole in the basal piece, he squeezes a quantity of grease from the sebaceous glands of his nose, which he scrapes together with his finger-nails and transfers in a lump to the ankle of his left foot. Then he resumes the twirling, and, so soon as the stick begins to smoke, he applies its hot end to the grease, which spreads itself over the point. The stick having been thus lubricated, the process is continued as before.

The central tribes, like the Dieri, Wongapitcha, and Aluridja, usually make the basal piece short and flat, and wider than the twirling stick. The Dieri select needlebush for the twirling stick, and Hack’s Pea (Crotalaria) for the basal piece. The other tribes mentioned combine the needlebush wood with that of a mulga root.

The northern tribes almost invariably employ two long sticks, one of which has a rounded point at one end, the other a series of shallow circular pits, into which the point of the twirling piece just described fits when the implement is in use.

The Mulluk-Mulluk, Ponga-Ponga, and other tribes of the Daly River district carry a number of these sticks about with them, especially in the rainy season, when there is always a chance of the fire-stick being extinguished by an unexpected tropical deluge. The fire-making apparatus is carried in a receptacle, which consists of a single segment of a bamboo, with a septum at the bottom. The sticks are stuck into this cylindrical holder, which keeps them perfectly dry even during a prolonged season of rain, after the fashion of arrows in a quiver.

Fire-making implements are carried by the men, whilst the fire-stick is, as often as not, carried by the women also. As we have already seen in connection with the carriage of water, it is the concern of the women to undertake the transport of the camp-belongings from one site to another. When moving they pack themselves with the domestic implements, collecting-vessels, personal paraphernalia, and their infants, whilst their husbands burden themselves only to the extent of a few spears, a spear-thrower, and the fire-producing sticks just mentioned. The men declare that it would be most unwise to be burdened with any impediment themselves, while on the march, because at any moment, and when least expected, they might be pounced upon by an enemy, who would make good use of their unpreparedness. So also, should game of any kind suddenly come into view, the men, who are the recognized hunters, must always be ready for quick action, or in a position to take up the chase immediately. Hence it comes about that in the best interests of the tribe the women are required to undertake the transport.

PLATE XV

1. Framework of hut in course of construction, Cooper’s Creek, S.W. Queensland.

2. Hut decked with porcupine grass, Arltunga district.

The men spend hours at a time in camp making or sharpening spears. When, moreover, the weapons are not in use, the hunters are most punctilious in preserving them from harm. The rule of the camp is never to lay a spear upon the ground for any length of time for two reasons; firstly, to prevent it from warping, and secondly, to eliminate the risk of breakage by somebody carelessly walking on to it. For these reasons the men, when camped, always take the precaution to stand their spears in a more or less upright position against the entrance of their huts, or against any bush or tree which happens to be growing close at hand.

Whenever possible, the opportunity of a sojourn in camp is seized for conducting a festive dance and song. For this purpose head-gears and other decorations have to be manufactured, plumes and permanent ornaments renovated, and pigments prepared to adorn the persons taking part in the performance. Upon such occasions a native is never seen idle.

Quite apart from preparing himself in anticipation of an extraordinary event, however, a native might take advantage of a delay in camp to manufacture an article with which he can barter with an adjoining tribe. The most common article thus prepared is ochre. Many tribes do not possess a deposit of this natural pigment and they are most anxious to do business with their neighbours. In exchange for the ochre, they offer such things as weapons, pitjuri-leaf, fish, or yams. The ochre is carried to its destination either in lumps or prepared as a fine powder. In the former case it is packed in small fibre or fur-string bags; in the latter the powder is wrapped in thin sheets of bark and tied together with string into neat parcels. The preparation of the ochre-powder entails much grinding between the stone surfaces of a hand-mill. The ochre is used for decorating the body, as well as implements and weapons.

If now we enquire into the method of dress adopted by the aborigines of Australia, we find that most of the tribes originally walked about in the nude, and, apart from a few small personal decorations, possessed nothing in the shape of a covering which might be described as a dress. The advent of civilization has largely interfered with this ancient practice.

The now practically extinct south-eastern tribes, including those along the River Murray, used more of a body-covering than any others. Opossum, wallaby, and any suitable marsupial skins were collected and carefully sewn together, and with these rugs the natives could, if need be, cover the greater part of their bodies.

By far the most common mode is to tie a string around the waist, from which is suspended a tassel to cover the pubes. These tassels vary considerably in size according to the tribe which wears them. The smallest are found among the Wongapitcha in the Mann and Tomkinson Ranges; the appendage is there only worn by the men and is barely large enough to cover the part. It is made of human hair strands fastened at the knot of the tassel directly to the pubes; the covering is known as the “moiranje.” As a general rule, it might be said that the northern tribes have larger coverings than the central, although the Yantowannta and other Barcoo River tribes wear them as large as any. Even the Arunndta and Aluridja at special functions suspend large pubic tassels of fur-string from the waist-band.

The northern type of tassel consists of a great number of strings, usually of opossum fur, bound to a central piece, which is attached to the waist-band, either by two separate terminal strings, or by means of one single tie from the top of the tassel. The completed covering hangs from the waist like an apron. This type of pubic tassel is known to all north-central and northern tribes, and might be worn by either adult male or married female.

In place of the tassel a small sheet of the paper-bark is popular amongst the north coastal tribes. A narrow strip, from eight to twelve inches long, is folded transversely at its middle and hung over the waist-band, from which it pends like an apron as described of the tassel. Captain Matthew Flinders is perhaps the first European to have observed this custom, as far back as 1803, at Caledon Bay, where he observed a girl wearing “a small piece of bark, in guise of a fig leaf, which was the sole approximation to clothing seen.”

The women of Bathurst Island carry folded sheets of the paper-bark or large food-carriers about with them, which, upon the approach of strangers, they hold in front of their person.

Along the whole length of coast line of north Australia, the large shell of the pearl-oyster is made use of as a pubic covering. Even among such tribes as live remote from the sea, one may occasionally find the shell so used, in which case, of course, it has been acquired from a coastal tribe by barter. In order to hang the shell, two holes are drilled through it near the hinge line, at the top, and a string passed through them, with which it is tied to a belt. The rough exterior surface of the shell is ground smooth; and it is this side which lies against the body. The nacreous inner surface is frequently decorated with either painted designs or carvings subsequently tinted with ochre. The Sunday Island natives are especially adept at this type of decorative art, which will be referred to later.

Although the aboriginal does not wear much clothing, he is very particular about regularly anointing his supple skin. This precaution no doubt gives him greater protection against the changes of weather than all the modern ideas of clothing could do. What he principally applies is fat of emu and goanna, and on the north coast that of some of the larger fish as well. The emu in particular, and especially during a good season, accumulates masses of fat under its skin, which are readily removed, when slain by the hunter. This grease the native rubs over the whole surface of his body to shield the skin from the painful sting of the broiling sun and of the arid wind. In addition he covers certain parts of his body and face with red ochre and charcoal, both for cosmetic and protective purposes. The application of coloured pigments for purely decorative and ceremonial purposes will be discussed later.

Hair-belts are worn by young and old, male and female. Children have only one or two twisted fur-strings tied around the waist. Among the coastal tribes of the Northern Territory, men wear belts made of twisted human hair. A skein of about thirty strings is tied at two points diametrically opposite, and, making these the ends, the sixty strings are loosely twisted into a hank about two feet in length. The belt thus completed is tied around the waist with a piece of human hair-string. The article is of practical use since it permits of carrying various implements and weapons, which a man sticks between the belt and his body. A Wogait warrior was seen with a tomahawk thus placed at the back of his body; to stay the swinging of the handle he held it securely in the cleft between his buttocks. The same type of belt is used by the tribes of the Northern Kimberleys, and there they are always chosen when a man is wearing the pearl-shell appendage.

The Worora construct more elaborate articles by winding much human hair-string circumferentially (i.e. spirally) round a thick inner skein like the one described above. The finished belt looks like a cylindrical ring about an inch in thickness.

Other kinds of belts are made, but they are more for gala occasions, as when ceremonies are performed and tribal dances arranged.

When his affairs are working harmoniously, game secured, and water available, the aboriginal makes his life as easy as possible; and he might to the outsider even appear lazy. Blessed with a fair share of pristine philosophy by heredity, his motto might be interpreted in words to the effect that while there is plenty for to-day never care about to-morrow. On this account an aboriginal is inclined to make one feast of his supplies, in preference to a modest meal now and another by and by. The result is that, when a beast has been roasted, the whole of it is eaten, even though the participant family or group be small in comparison with the bulk of the spread. In consequence of this custom, the surfeiters find it necessary in times of plenty to frequently lie in camp, in undisguised idleness, until such time has lapsed as Nature must demand of their systems to overcome the discomforts which the reckless gorging had brought about. During this period of digestive recovery, an aboriginal endeavours to spend most of his time in sleeping off the objectionable after-effects of his temporary indiscretion. As an apology, however, one must admit that only too often the same individual is compelled to go for many days without even a mouthful to eat, and possibly, at the same time existing on a minimum of water, under the most trying conditions imaginable—conditions whose origin must be traced to the cycles of drought the great southern continent is heir to, and which have become more drastic in their effects, since the coming of the white man, through the extermination of many indigenous animals and plants the original owners of the land used to depend upon for their existence.

It is during the leisure hours of any stay in camp that attention is paid to such operations as hair-cutting and beard-removing previously referred to. When the natives have been on the march for a time, and especially after they have been out hunting or collecting, numbers of thorns, prickles, and splinters are picked up by the soles of their feet, in spite of the thick horny nature of the skin. Many of these break off short and in due course set up irritation, necessitating their removal. Firstly the sufferer tries to remove the foreign body from the skin with his finger-nails; failing to succeed by this method, he cuts a small piece of wood the shape of an awl, and with its sharp point removes the obstacle. The prickle is often completely buried and quite invisible to the eye, yet it has to be removed. In order to locate it under those conditions, the aboriginal resorts to the method, not infrequently applied by the modern surgeon, of gently pressing the skin at different places with the tip of the instrument until the seat of pain has been located. At that spot he cuts away the skin to a depth sufficient to expose the hidden body, which he can then in most cases express with his fingers. During these operations the natives repeatedly give vent to a sharp, yet subdued “irr,” combining the expression of pain with that of disgust or temper.

The method adopted by the natives of walking one behind the other, where possible, is partly to minimize the risk of picking up prickles with their feet, and partly to obliterate the individual tracks of the party.

The dog is the aboriginal’s constant companion. In the original tribal areas the dingo, Australia’s wild dog, is captured and tamed young; in the more civilized districts the European dog has been acquired and bred by the natives in alarmingly large numbers. The animals are kept by both man and woman—in a single wurley one might count as many as fifteen dogs living with the human occupants. The yelping hordes are useless, except perhaps that they raise the alarm when strangers approach the camp. Some of them are indeed dangerously vicious. The natives have the dogs about them merely for the love they bear towards them; it is on account of the unreasonable amount of petting and pampering, received at the hands of their masters, that the dogs become so thoroughly useless. A native just holds the unruly mob about him for company sake; he prefers to rely upon his own skill and instinct when hunting, and rarely allows his dogs to go with him; in fact, there seems little inclination on the part of the dogs to accompany the chase with their master. They are so well looked after, and regularly steal so much from the general supplies of the camp, that they grow fat and lazy. When a dog seems to be off colour, or has been accidentally hurt, it is nursed like a sick child; it is placed by the fireside, upon the best rug available, and covered with other rags, the natives themselves going without any covering. One might occasionally find a gin going so far as to even suckle a pup at her breast.

Interesting discussions have taken place as to whether the dingo is indigenous to Australia or whether it has come hither from some other land, possibly with man. The wild dog found in the mountains of Java certainly resembles the dingo very closely. Whether or no, the dingo has existed in Australia quite as long as the primitive tribes. Osseous remains of the wild dog have been found contemporaneous with the extinct Diprotodon and other pre-historic monsters. Indeed in the “mammalian drifts” filling the ancient valleys of the ranges in the Noarlunga district, south of Adelaide, bones of such animals have been found showing distinctly the teeth-marks of the dingo upon them. In Victoria, and New South Wales also, dog remains have been found in old cave deposits in company with fossil-mammals and struthious birds, often buried beneath the basaltic flows and ashes of Mount Gambier and other volcanoes, which have long since become dormant. It seems most probable, therefore, that the dingo existed in Australia in the Pliocene period, or at any rate in that immediately following it. It is a strange circumstance that the dingo has never been traced to Tasmania, although, immediately opposite that island on the mainland, the dog was most plentiful in by-gone times. The surmise is that the animal had in its migration not reached so far south before Tasmania was severed from the Australian continent by the breaking through of Bass Strait. It is reasonable to assume then that the dingo came to the south of Australia subsequent to the aboriginals who inhabited Tasmania.

CHAPTER XIV
HUNTING

True sportsman’s instinct—Comprehensive list of game—Land-snails—Fresh-water mussels—Marine molluscs—Caterpillars—Grubs—Tree-climbing—Trees felled by burning—Witchedy hook—Eggs of birds and reptiles—Snakes and lizards—Fishing methods described—A turtle hunt—Crocodile—Dugong—Hawk traps—Wild geese and other birds—The emu—Big game hunted by men—Opossums—Burrowing marsupials—Wallaby—Kangarooing expeditions—The buffalo—Wild bee honey—The honey ant.

Nothing surpasses the pleasure of real pristine chase. The aboriginal’s ideal of life is attained when he finds himself in hot pursuit of the game, which shares with him the wilds of his ancient haunts. He lives at an accelerated pace; his pulse quickens, and in his excitement he completely dissociates his mind from everything but the spoor of his prospective prey. His vision is focussed rigidly upon the fleeing animal—he is blind so far as any other objects are concerned—and, behind it, he beholds just the one picture of his ambition realized, viz. the “kill.”

The love of the sport, the keenness of the senses, and the astounding powers of endurance are natural attributes, which the aboriginal alone knows how to use to their fullest. These are the hereditary gifts of man which characterize the primitive hunter; and these are the instincts which modern representatives of the human species have deplorably neglected.

The object of the chase is, of course, in its original phase, to find the means wherewith to sustain the hunter’s existence. Although he loves the sport so well, a native will never kill wantonly; whatever is slain is eaten; to kill just for the pleasure of the thing is beyond his comprehension and clashes seriously with his profound notions of justice and fair-play being meted out to all his fellow-creatures.

Apart from some of the flabby marine creations, there are few things in the animal world which the aboriginal does not eat, either raw or cooked in ashes. Generally speaking, the male only hunts the larger mammals and such things as require expert knowledge to locate, or the taking of which is associated with adventure and skill. We shall consider a few items separately.

The larger land-snails are collected by the women in their food-carriers. After a good downpour of rain such come out from their hiding places in great numbers and can be collected in large numbers, but even in midsummer, in the ranges of central Australia, a meal of snails can at any time be secured by searching under tussocks and beneath stones. The principal species eaten by the Aluridja, Wongapitcha, and to a less extent by the Arunndta tribes, is the Helix perinflata. When sufficient have been collected, they are merely thrown upon hot ashes to roast and then picked out of the shell with a small pointed stick.

Fresh water mussels are gathered from the mud, roasted and consumed. These molluscs, known as the Unio, are very plentiful in some of the permanent water-holes, such as exist along the Cooper and Strzelecki Creeks in the Yantowannta, Wongkanguru, and Dieri country. Along the banks of the River Murray great heaps of the shells of such mussels are encountered by travellers even nowadays, indicating to what an enormous extent the molluscs were eaten by the extinct river tribes.

Countless marine species, both heliform gastropods like the periwinkle and cockle-like bivalves, contribute towards the daily meals of the coastal tribes. All along the south-eastern shores of South Australia, that is, upon the cliffs occurring between Kingston and the Glenelg River and in Victoria, many kitchen middens are still to be found containing heaps upon heaps of the large Turbo undulata—the remains of what the local tribes have feasted upon. Associated with these heaps are the stones of their ovens and other camp refuse.

The cliffs and reefs, which fringe the north coast of Australia, are profitable hunting grounds where all kinds of shell-fish, especially oysters, abound. The last-named are gathered and thrown upon hot ashes; when the valves open, the “fish” are detached without any difficulty and swallowed.

The Wongapitcha and other desert tribes do not hesitate to consume quantities of green caterpillars, but such usually only at the beginning of a good season, when fresh herbs are available, and the morsel is in consequence claimed to have acquired a sweetish flavour. The only treatment the caterpillars receive is to be thrown upon hot ashes until they expand and straighten with the heat. The small hairs covering them are thus singed off, but the caterpillars are far from being cooked when eaten.

The most popular and at the same time most widely distributed article of diet in the insect line is the larva of the big Cossus moth, commonly known as the witchedy grub ([Plate XVIII]). The two varieties which make themselves most conspicuous are, firstly, one living in the roots of such shrubs as the Cassia and certain species of Acacia, and, secondly, one which bores into the butt of the eucalyptus. The first cannot usually be located by the eye, but its presence is determined by ramming the yam-stick into the ground under the root of the shrub and testing its resistance to leverage—if the grub is present, the root will readily snap, whereupon the native soon unearths it by digging with the stick and his hands. This variety is smaller than the tree-grub and is mostly of a yellow colour.

The abode of the tree-grub is detected by the native’s keen eye in the small holes the young larva bores into the bark and lives in until it attains the mature moth stage. The larva lives in the butt or in any of the larger limbs of the tree; consequently it may at times be concealed in the bark high above the ground. In the latter case the native will have to climb the butt and effect an ascent, no matter what the shape of the tree happens to be. Various methods are made use of, one of which we have already considered on [page 13].

One of the commonest methods is to cut shallow notches in the bark of the butt, one above the other, and so placed that the toes of either foot of the climber can be placed into them, alternately right and left. The climber, as he ascends, cuts fresh notches into the bark with his tomahawk; and if the butt is so big that he cannot hold on to it, he is obliged to cling to a notch with the fingers of one hand whilst the other hand is used to cut the new notch above it. In this manner he works his way upwards to the nearest lateral branch, whence the ascent is in most cases easier. It is wonderful with what assurance and ease the native accomplishes this dangerous task; and one marvels how it is possible for him to retain his balance against the vertical trunk of the tree. The notches, too, which he cuts into the bark, are so shallow that only the very toe-tips can be inserted. One uncertain movement, or one slip of either toe or finger, and he would fall to the ground; and considering the height to which he occasionally climbs, this might mean certain death. All grub-holes are examined on the way up and the occupants extracted. Vide [Plate XIX], 1.

When the diameter of the butt is not too large to prevent the native from holding his hands around the distant side, the notches are dispensed with, and the climber simply “walks” up the tree, keeping his arms extended and allowing his hands to slide along the surface as he ascends. The method is in vogue principally in the tropical portions of Australia, where small-trunked trees and palms are plentiful in the jungles surrounding permanent water-holes and rivers.

In the same region, strong vines and creepers, which are interlaced with the branches of a tree to be explored, are climbed, hand over hand, by the hunter, who gets his hold by gripping the stem between the big and second toes.

In north-eastern Queensland, tree-climbing is accomplished by the aid of a long and strong piece of the lawyer-cane, which is passed around that side of the tree-trunk lying away from the climber. The native seizes both ends of this loop, one in either hand, and keeping it taut by throwing his body backwards into a sloping position, he places his feet against the tree. Momentarily relaxing the strain upon the cane, by a jerk from his arms, he thrusts the loop a short distance up the trunk, at the same time lifting one foot above the other as though he were walking up a ladder. The same operation is repeated, when the other foot is lifted; and thus he makes quick progress towards the first lateral branches of the tree. Should at any time the climber want to use one of his hands, he passes one end of the cane under the knee of the same side as the hand to be liberated and holds the end between the big toe and that next to it.

Often the natives do not climb the tree, but prefer to light a fire at the base of it and wait until the flame has eaten its way through sufficiently far to fell it. After a giant of the woods has crashed to the ground, it is comparatively easy for the hunters to obtain any spoil concealed in its bark, hollows, or branches.

Although we have considered the methods of tree-climbing in connection with the witchedy grub, it must be understood that the same methods are employed in hunting small animals, in bird-nesting, in honey-collecting, and so forth.

The witchedy grub is extracted from its hiding place by means of a light hooked stick. This implement is from four to six inches long and is usually cut from a small pronged twig, one arm of which is left the required length, the other cut short and sharpened to form the hook. The stick is inserted into the hole occupied by the witchedy grub, hook foremost, and pushed in until the grub is penetrated; then it is withdrawn, the hook bringing the grub with it. As the hole is usually small at its entrance, the bark is first cut away to a small depth with a tomahawk in order to avoid the constriction when the grub is being withdrawn. The witchedy-hook is known throughout central and southern Australia; the Arunndta word for it is “ullyinga.”

The witchedy grub is prepared like most things already described, namely, by throwing it upon hot ashes for a few moments until it straightens and expands, but does not burst. Although we Europeans have become adverse to eating anything in the grub line, there are many bush people who regularly partake of the witchedy; indeed, by many the grub is regarded as a very tasty dish. The flavour of the cooked witchedy is like that of scrambled egg, slightly sweetened.

The eggs and fledglings of all birds yield abundant food supplies during favourable seasons. In central Australia such seasons are dependent entirely upon the rains. Birds breed usually after the setting in of rain, which might be once or twice a year, but in the driest regions, like the Victoria Desert, perhaps only once every few years. There is no doubt that emu, black swan, and native goose are amongst the biggest suppliers of eggs. Of the two last-named birds, in particular, enormous harvests of eggs are occasionally wrested during exceptional seasons. At these times the tribes who have been so bounteously favoured carry on a regular trade with neighbouring tribes, who have perhaps not had the same opportunity or good fortune.

The eggs of the larger birds mentioned are laid upon, or into, hot sand and frequently turned to ensure them cooking on all sides. The desert tribes of the Kimberley district have a knack of snatching the egg, as it lies upon the hot ashes, spinning it in the air, catching it again, and replacing it on to the ashes. The process might be repeated two or three times. The idea is to stir up the contents of the egg, in order that they may cook uniformly, much after the style of an omelette or scrambled egg.

The eggs of lizards, crocodiles, turtles, and other reptiles are also feasted upon. Of turtles in particular great numbers of eggs are collected along the north coast of Australia. The female turtle comes out of the ocean and lays many eggs in the sand, a short distance above high water mark; between fifty and sixty eggs are commonly found in a single nest. The turtle lays the eggs into a hole it previously scoops out, and covers them with sand it piles up with its paddles. The aboriginal locates the nest by tracking the characteristic spoor across the sand. When the nest has been discovered, the hunter probes the pile with a pointed stick or spear to ascertain whether the eggs are still available. This he can presage by looking at the point of the stick when he withdraws it: if the eggs are freshly laid, the point will be covered with yellow yolk, if partly hatched blood will show itself. The eggs are eaten in either condition. The lucky hunter, immediately he finds a nest, digs out the eggs with his hands and yam stick, and carries them in a food-vessel back to camp. Their preparation is much the same as that of birds’ eggs, but, in the case of the turtle’s, the white of the egg does not coagulate.

Snakes and lizards, especially the larger species, contribute towards the daily meals. They are tracked to their holes and hiding places and dug out. Great catches are made in the northern coastal districts by setting fire to areas covered with long, dry grass. The hunting party surrounds the burning patch and kills the reptiles, as they are driven out of their hiding places by the heat. Many creatures are overtaken by the flames and partially roasted before they can escape. These are collected as soon as the ground permits of walking over it, but very often such morsels fall into the claws of the birds of prey, which hover over the place directly the fires are started. In order to ensure a rapid spread of the flames, the natives make use of a stick, about a yard long, with a hook at one end. With this stick in their hand, they pick up some of the blazing grass at the hook-end, and run with it along and through the grass, setting fire to as much as they can, and in as short a time as possible.

Of the lizards, the most favoured are the species of Varanus, popularly known as the printhy and the goanna. These species live in central and northern Australia and attain a considerable size, the printhy in particular, living in the MacDonnell and Musgrave Ranges, attain a size of over six feet. These lizards in a good season are considered a delicacy, and the fat is prized as nutriment, as medicine, or as cosmetic ointment alike. The lizards are slain either in the caves they inhabit or as they are running from the hunter. In sandy stretches of country, the smaller goannas are often dug out of the holes they dwell in, and are killed on the spot.

Fishing is indulged in wherever the conditions permit of it. Opportunities are naturally rare in central Australia, and are restricted to only a few permanent water-holes along the courses of river systems like the Cooper, Diamentina, and Finke. In the northern rivers, which are nearly all permanently flowing, as for example the Fitzroy, Prince Regent, Victoria, Daly, Alligators, Roper, and Leichhardt, there is always an abundant supply of fish available. A common method practised both in central and northern Australia is to form a fishing party of men and boys, who enter a water-hole at one end and drive the fish before them, by making as much noise and splash as possible, at the same time gradually working their way towards the shallow water. Great care is taken not to allow any of the prey to make its escape by darting back through the line of the party into deep water again. Suddenly a final, united drive is made, through which most of the terrified fish find themselves in disastrously shallow water. In their frantic endeavour to escape, they entangle themselves in the mud, and can easily be grabbed by the members of the party. As fast as the fish are taken by the men, they are thrown on to the dry bank, where some gins are in readiness to seize them and dispatch them by crushing their heads between their teeth.

Many of the larger fish living in the water-holes have the habit of throwing themselves out of the water when the mud is stirred up in it; lying high and dry upon the muddy banks of the hole, they are easily seized by the natives and killed.

In the western rivers district of the Northern Territory, after the water has dried up in the creeks, leaving only shallow pools behind, the imprisoned fish are driven towards small inlets by means of long bundles of grass and twigs held horizontally in the water. In this way they are pushed forward on to the bank, and the water filters back to the hole. The fish are retained by the brushwood, from which they are easily extricated by the hunters.

The Carpentaria tribes build ingenious races at suitable sites, as for instance at a point where a river drains a billabong. By means of a series of embankments, the water is conducted along a number of constricted channels to long hollow logs, through which it flows, and, subsequently, empties itself over stacks of brushwood. The fish are entangled in the brushwood, whence they are removed by the hunters to a place of safety.

Crawfish are traced in shallow pools by keeping a constant look-out for the ends of their antennæ, which stick out above the surface of the turbid water; the native seizes these, and, with a jerk, hurls the crustaceans on to the bank.

PLATE XVI

1. Wongapitcha women carrying dogs which they hold across their backs to enjoy the warmth of the animals’ bodies.

2. Kolaia man standing in the characteristic bird-like attitude, Cambridge Gulf.

In the Victoria River district of the Northern Territory, where there are suitable constrictions in shallow tidal-inlets and creeks, the natives sit in a line across the opening at ebb-tide after the following fashion: Each person squats with his legs doubled in the knees, the thighs resting well apart and in contact, one on either side, with those of his neighbours, who are seated just as he. When the last of the water ebbs out, the fish endeavour to make through the line of the fishers, but the moment one invades the angle contained by an aboriginal’s thighs, it is immediately pounced upon, caught, and thrown across to the women waiting on the shore.

In place of the human line, very often a net is spanned across an ebbing inlet, being kept in a more or less vertical position by a number of stakes, which are driven into the sand. These nets are made of vegetable fibre twine, strung or knitted together, after a loop-within-loop pattern, into pieces many yards in length.

Barriers are also built across shallow inlets, which upon the recession of the tide may occasionally retain large numbers of fish. Such structures are plentiful in the Berringin territory along the north coast, and in the Carpentaria Gulf country.

More temporary structures are made of branches and strips of paper-bark, stayed by vertical piles, driven into the sand at short distances apart. This type of barrier was seen mostly across the beds of creeks such as the McKinlay, Cullen, and Lennard.

A kind of noose is made by the Daly River tribes consisting of a long piece of big meshwork, which is loosely suspended across a narrow arm of water, or a creek, known to be frequented by larger varieties of fish. Whilst endeavouring to swim through the meshes of this contrivance, which at first offers no material resistance to the attempt, the fish, in carrying the noose onwards, forces its body partly through one of the meshes. Some of the prey might succeed in slipping through, others will pull the noose over their heads and fix the mesh in such a position that it will move neither forwards nor backwards. In this case, the fish will be obliged to linger until the natives come along to ascertain what luck they have had, when it is removed, together with any others which have met with a similar fate.

Practically all coastal tribes of Australia have made use of fishing nets at some time or other. Nowadays only the far northern coastal tribes still practise netting. The Daly River tribes, the Wogait, Sherait, Larrekiya, Berringin, and others construct nets after one and the same principle. Two hoops are made of the long shoots of Spinifex, growing upon the sandhills on the shore, usually by twisting two pairs of such pieces together, respectively, and tying their ends so as to form a complete ring, measuring about five feet in diameter. Round the inside of this ring is tied a circular net made out of fibre twine or of Hybiscus bark. The net is made by hand, after the loop-within-loop method previously referred to. To use the net, two natives, usually females, seize it with one hand placed at either side of the rim. As they wade out to a suitable depth, they hold the net between them, partly submerged and slightly inclined, so that the lower edge is in advance of the upper. In their free hands the gins carry branches, with which they frequently beat the water on either side, so as to drive any fish, within the beating radius, towards the centre of the net. So soon as a fish is noticed to go inside, the net is quickly turned up into a horizontal position and the captive bagged ([Fig. 3]).

Fig. 3. Berringin women netting fish.

A constant watch is kept for large fish, which may be swimming close in to shore, in order that they might be dispatched with a stone or throwing stick. Feeding stingrays are often captured this way. When saw-fish come into shallow water, the natives wade in, seize the fish by their tails, and throw them up on to dry land before the dangerous “saws” can do any harm.

The spear is a favourite weapon with which to obtain a fish. A special type is used by the Larrekiya, Wogait, the Alligator River, and other coastal tribes in the north. The spear is about eleven feet long, has a shaft of reed or bamboo, and three barbed prongs of ironwood grouped in a circle around the head of the shaft. These spikes, measuring from twelve to fifteen inches, are attached with resin and string or paperbark. The barbs are short and directed backwards, each prong containing from eight to eleven, gradually increasing in size from the point towards the shaft. This trident-spear is used mostly for salt-water fish, and is thrown with or without a spear-thrower. The idea of the three spikes is to jam the fish so that it is held by the retrorse barbs. The spearing is done either off reefs and rocks, or simply by wading out into shallow water and securing the prey as it emerges from sea-weed or swims near the sandy bottom; many of the coastal and river tribes do much of their spearing from the bow of a canoe. Some tribes make similar fish-spears, but with two prongs only.

The Kimberley tribes of Western Australia, the island tribes off the north coast and the north Queensland coastal tribes use straight, pointed spears of mangrove wood, those of the Crocker Island being exceptionally well finished and of harder wood.

The tribes living more inland in the river districts of the north also use a singly pointed, straight fish-spear. A native does most of his fishing by perching himself upon a high bank, rock, or fallen log, at a place where he knows fish are being attracted to the surface of the water by flies or other causes. He stands rigidly for hours, with his spear poised, patiently waiting for the opportunity, which will allow him to thrust the sharp point into the body of the unsuspecting prey. The spear is thrown with such force that it either sticks in the mud below or disappears under water for a while. In either case, the native has to wade or swim out to the missile, and when he retakes it, the fish, if he has been successful, is found sticking to the end of the spear.

The hook and line are used by the Daly and Alligator River tribes of the Northern Territory. Two types of hook are employed. One is cut out of a pelvic bone or shoulder blade of the kangaroo, or out of the pearl shell. It is of a strongly bent sickle-shape, pointed at one end and containing a notch at the other, to which a line can be securely tied.

The other hook consists of two pieces of bone of unequal length. The shorter and thinner piece, about two inches in length, is pointed at one end and tied at an angle to the bigger piece, which is about four inches long. The joint at the angle is strengthened with wild bees’ wax.

A fishing line, made of vegetable fibre twine, is looped once around the hook, and made secure by tying with another piece of string, the union being covered with bees’ wax. The line is held either in the hand or is attached to a long rod. The hook is baited with grubs. It is by this means that the Barramundi is caught in large numbers in most of the northern rivers.

PLATE XVII

Female wood-carriers, Aluridja tribe.

“The women ... are required to collect sufficient to keep the fire going, during the day for cooking purposes and during the night for warming and lighting purposes.”

A turtle hunt is conducted in King Sound after the following style: The game is sighted, floating upon the surface of the sea, either from the mainland or from a craft. Instantly a gesticulative appeal is made to all to keep quiet. “Hai! Kurdemilla!” (Look out, a turtle!) “Sh! Sh! Sh!” comes the voice of the person who has made the discovery, and others repeat it in an undertone. Everybody who has noticed the turtle bends his body to escape detection, and beckons to all others to do likewise. A number of the men then creep to the water’s edge and cautiously board a craft (i.e. if the observation was not made from a craft), in which they carefully paddle towards the prey. As the boat draws near, the keen eyes of the hunters endeavour to satisfy their curiosity upon the point as to whether the object ahead is just one turtle resting upon the surface in the warmth of a tropical sun, or whether, indeed, there might be a pair, coupled in the water. The female turtle is much preferred by the natives on account of the possible nutritious contents of the ovaries, whose appearance is much like that of a cluster of yellowish dates. When within reasonable distance of the prey, two men glide inaudibly over the side of the craft and disappear from view. Upon a signal, two or three others jump into the water, apparently disregardless of splash and noise, and swim towards the now startled game, which lifts its long neck and looks in the direction of the disturbance. Having perceived the imminent danger, the turtle at once endeavours to escape from the peril by ducking under water. But, at the same moment, it finds its head clasped by one of the men below to be thrust back above the surface of the water. One of the swimmers has now reached the turtle, whose shell he promptly seizes by the collar-like rim at the back of the neck, and pulls it backwards at the same time as the head is being thrust upwards from beneath the water. The turtle works its paddles in a frantic endeavour to escape, but, being held in the sloping position mentioned, the more its exerts itself, the more persistently it remains upon the surface, because its paddles are driving it there. If it be a large turtle, the man who is pulling from behind lifts his body on to the shell, upon which he sits astride. His weight tends to further ensure the inclined position of the turtle, which involuntarily acts as his carrier. The prey is then speedily dispatched by a blow over the head with a tomahawk or waddy. There is no doubt the much-criticized De Rougemont must have witnessed such a scene as here described, and embodied the inspiration in his narration.

During the season that turtles come ashore, moonlight parties are arranged which overtake the amphibians as they are clumsily working their way over the sandy beach. The creatures are overturned and either slain immediately or are left in their helpless position over night to be killed in the morning.

Crocodiles (C. porosus et Johnstoni) and dugongs (Halicore Australis) are located below the surface of water by watching for bubbles of air, which might rise, or for any little swirls and disturbances in the water due to the movements of the creatures below. In the case of the dugong, also known as the sea-cow, its presence might be betrayed by small nibbled pieces of sea-weed, which come to the surface when it is feeding. Both crocodile and dugong are speared or harpooned from the bow of a raft or canoe. A native often ventures into a water-lily pool or billabong, known to contain crocodile, prodding the mud with his spear, as he advances, to feel for the horny skin of the hidden prey. When one has been located, a large hunting party wade in a line through the water splashing it vigorously and shouting loudly to drive the terrified crocodile from the pool. Once it appears on dry ground, it is chased and pelted with heavy spears. Natives do not appear to be the least concerned about their safety when they wade into water containing crocodiles; in fact, there are few cases known of natives having been attacked by the reptiles, although occasionally one finds an individual partially incapacitated or scarred in consequence of an encounter with a crocodile. The scaly monsters seem loth to attack a coloured man, but for a white man to take the risk a native does would mean courting certain death.

Young crocodiles are caught by hand from the bow of a canoe whilst cautiously drifting upon them as they are floating upon or near the surface of the water. The natives explain that the teeth of the young reptiles have not hardened sufficiently to do any harm.

Along the north coast, and on the adjacent islands, a regular watch is kept for the dugong. This peculiar marine mammal lives in the deep sea, but comes near to the shore to feed. It might often be observed, especially at high tide, in small, calm bays and inlets, frolicking at the surface. Full-grown animals attain a length of twelve feet or more, and weigh up to 1,500 pounds; they are entirely vegetarian, browsing for the most part on salt-water algae. At intervals it is necessary for the animal to rise to the surface to breathe. The drawing in of the air can be heard a great distance off, and is generally, though erroneously, referred to as the “blowing.” The man on the look-out watches for the dugong to show itself upon the surface, and his keen eye can usually detect it, even upon a slightly rippled water, at some considerable distance out. The most favourable times are at dusk and on moonlight nights.

When the signal has been given that a dugong is in sight, the hunters set out in a canoe and cautiously paddle towards the place at which it was last seen. It may be that long before the crew reach the particular spot indicated the animal has moved away, but the trained eye of the observer, who now stands at the bow of the canoe, is able to follow the movements of the dugong, even though it be some depth below the surface. At night the prey is observed on the reflected beam of the moon. When the game comes up again to take breath, it may be the canoe is still too far off for action, but the strictest caution is observed not in any way to cause a disturbance. All men in the boat remain rigid, and the paddles are held stationary; the man at the bow, holding his harpoon, poised in readiness above his head, stands like a statue. The moment the dugong goes below again, he indicates to the oarsmen with his hand how to steer. Thus the unsuspecting game is followed around from station to station until it comes to the surface within throwing distance. When this occurs, and it may be before the animal actually reaches the surface, the man in front sends the harpoon forward like lightning, with almost infallible precision, to penetrate the body of the rising dugong and firmly embed itself in it. The terrified animal plunges forward with a tremendous splash, tearing the line attached to the harpoon along with it to its full length. The canoe is pulled along with some velocity through the water, but the wounded animal soon weakens through loss of blood and the want of air. It is compelled to rise to the surface to fill its lungs, but no sooner does it come near than another missile flies from the hand of the hunter to also stick in the back of the exasperated animal. Again it shoots away, with a renewed effort to escape from the cruel harpoon, but in vain. Before long the want of air again necessitates a return to the surface, only to be met with a similar treatment as before. By this time the unfortunate dugong is so much weakened that it cannot travel far without coming to the surface frequently; and every time it does another spear is planted into its body. Before long it caves in; a final swish with its powerful tail, a quiver throughout the body, and its helpless carcase is in the hands of the elated hunters. The victorious shouting or singing of the men in the canoe is echoed by those watching the hunt on shore, the latter, moreover, in their excitement usually starting a wild sort of dance on the sand. A noose is placed round the dugong’s tail, by which it is towed towards the land. If any resistance is proffered, the rope is gathered in, and the creature drowned by keeping its head under water, or one of the hunters suffocates it by thrusting two of his fingers into its nostrils. This accomplished, the jaws are tied together to prevent the carcase from water-logging and sinking.

Often the hunters submerge their canoe, and, by swimming alongside, pull it under the floating carcase. The water is then bailed out of the craft and in this way the dugong is lifted. The hunters then row their prize ashore and drag it on to the beach, where it is quartered and cooked. Practically the whole of it is eaten.

The rich flesh of the dugong is relished by all northern coastal tribes from the east of Queensland to the west of Western Australia as far south as the 24th degree of latitude.

The hunters recognize an “old man” dugong by its tusks; and they assert that often a female is seen carrying its young upon a fin, suckling it. According to aboriginal information, a young dugong might also be observed riding on the back of its mother. A pregnant dugong is considered to make the richest dish of all.

Occasionally a dugong or a big fish, like a whale, is stranded during a gale, and this is indeed a red-letter day for the fortunate tribe upon whose territory the find was made.

Birds of every description are hunted with stone, stick, or spear. It is astounding how adroitly an aboriginal can project the light reed spears; to fell a dove at a distance of from forty to fifty paces is child’s play for an experienced thrower.

There are, however, a number of species which are hunted in a peculiar way; and these will now be described.

In the northern coastal districts, where hawks are very plentiful, the natives build small stone covers resembling a surveyor’s cairn. A hunter conceals himself in one of these and holds a dove or other small bird, which he has speared or captured, in his hand above a small loop-hole left at the top of the structure. He moves it about to attract the attention of the birds of prey soaring on high. Presently one of the hawks swoops down upon the dove and grabs it with its claws. But at the same moment, the hunter drops the dove and with lightning quickness seizes the legs of the hawk and pulls the bird under, to quickly kill it. This method is largely practised in the Victoria River district, there being an abundance of stones available for the construction of the covers. The occurrence of many cairns of the type here described has hitherto puzzled travellers who observed them.

The northern desert tribes of Western Australia adopt a similar principle, but in place of the stones they use the tussocks of porcupine grass to cover themselves. In order to attract the hawks they are hunting, they set fire to one or two plants of porcupine grass growing close by.

In the same district, and more especially on the Daly and other rivers in the Northern Territory, wild geese are captured much after the same principle. Large flocks of these semi-palmated geese (Anseranus melanoleuca) are in the habit of visiting one and the same place year after year. The natives know these places well, and during the absence of the geese make an excavation in the ground, which they cover with twigs, pieces of paper-bark, grass, and soil, leaving only one or two look-out holes. When the birds have returned, a couple of natives sit in the excavation and watch for the geese to draw near. As soon as a head or a leg of a goose comes near to an observation hole, one of the natives seizes the bird, draws it below, and wrings its neck. In this way many birds may be bagged without disturbing the flock.

On other occasions the natives climb trees, in which they build platforms to seat themselves upon and await the arrival of geese at dusk. The birds come in such large numbers that dozens are caught at a time; they are simply seized by hand and killed on the spot. By cleverly imitating the call of the birds: “nga ngang, ngang-ngang-ngang,” the hunters entice as many birds as they like to the platform. But even at daytime, a native often hides in a tussock of grass and imitates the cry of the bird, which, when it unsuspectingly draws near, is either grasped with the hand or hit on the head with a stick.

At times the hunter plucks a large water-lily leaf, into which he cuts two holes for his eyes to look through. Holding this leaf over his face, he swims out to some geese he has observed on a lagoon, and, when within grasping length of the prey, he simply pulls a bird under by its legs and strangles it.

The note of the whistling duck (Dendrocygna eytoni) is also accurately reproduced, by which flocks of them are attracted and killed with a throwing stick while hovering around the spot which conceals the native. Cockatoos, plovers, and many other birds are secured in a similar manner.

The flesh of an emu is valued, if for no other reason than for the size of the carcase and the large amount of grease which lies beneath the skin. The northern tribes of Western Australia have discovered a simple means of capturing the big struthious bird in that they poison a water known to be frequented by the game. When the bird has quenched its thirst, it is stupefied to such a degree that it is an easy matter for the natives, lying in ambush, to overtake it and crack it on the head. The poison used is supplied by the leaf of Tephrosia purpurea, which the natives call “moru”; the active principle is a saponine. In central Australia the pitjuri leaf is largely used for the same purpose.

The natives also take advantage of the inquisitive nature of the bird by enticing it into a cul-de-sac or other trap by waving a conspicuous object, as for instance a corrobboree plume, from behind a boulder or bush. When the bird is near enough, it is either rushed with waddies or speared by a number of chosen, astute men.

The Larrekiya and Wogait tribes conceal themselves in the branches of a tree, the seeds of which are known to attract the emu. The hunters ascend the tree in the early hours of the morning and remain there perfectly quiet until the prey arrives. At an opportune moment, the bird is speared with a specially heavy spear known as “nimmerima.”

The south-eastern tribes used to select one or more men, who would be “dressed up” as emu after the style of the Kukata men playing emu described on [page 81]. In the case of the hunters, however, a real emu skin is usually employed, with the head attached and held erect by means of a stick, which passes through the neck. Very cleverly imitating the strut of the emu, the men carefully approach their prey, drawing their spears, which they firmly hold between two toes, along with them through the grass. Carefully and very slowly encircling the birds, the hunters gradually work towards the birds, when presently one or two of them are espied. The moment this happens, the curious emu rush towards the strangers ruffling their feathers and emitting peculiar guttural sounds. Now the critical moment has arrived because the hunters know that, when their faked plumage is recognized, the birds will decamp. They stand and lift their spears with their feet. The birds are now in all probability within throwing distance and very likely on the point of turning. That is the time selected for throwing the missile. Having previously selected their mark, the hunters, with a mighty flourish, let the weapons fly through the air with almost infallible accuracy. Then sounds the triumphant whoop; the men, discarding their disguise, rush towards the wounded victim and promptly put an end to it. In place of assuming the guise of an emu, the south-eastern tribes, when in grass-tree (Xanthorrhœa) country, cut the crown from a spreading tree and carry this as a cover.

The real chase, that is the hunting of larger animals, reptiles, and birds, is strictly the business of the men, although the children and women often employ themselves at digging out lizards, snakes, and the smaller marsupials.

Opossums are driven from their hiding places in the hollows of trees by smoking them out. A fire is lit at the bottom of a tree which is known to be hollow, to burn through the enclosing wall at one side. Then green twigs are thrown upon the flame to make as much smoke as possible, which works its way upwards through all the hollows and emerges wherever there is an opening. The half-stifled animals make for the openings and usually drop to the ground; if not they are brought to fall by spear or throwing stick. Often the greater half of the butt is thus burned through and the tree crashes to earth. In this case a diligent search of all the hollows and nooks is made in order that all things to eat, quite apart from the opossums, may be bagged.

PLATE XVIII

Two handfuls of witchedy grubs.

“The most popular and at the same time most widely distributed article of diet in the insect line is the larva of the big Cossus moth, commonly known as the witchedy grub.”

Often, too, notches are cut into the butt of the tree in step-like manner to allow the hunters to ascend for the purpose of chopping out their prey from the hollows. Whilst some are thus busying themselves aloft, others are waiting below in readiness to secure any which might attempt to escape.

Most of the burrowing marsupials, as well as the dingo and the imported rabbit, are dug out of the ground. The largest among these is the wombat, which is nocturnal in habit. The native knows, moreover, that when the weather is excessively hot, the animal often comes to the surface and sleeps in front of its burrow. He therefore stealthily surveys the recognized haunts of the wombat at such times, and, should he be successful in locating one, he spears it on the spot.

North of the Great Australian Bight the small wallaby is captured as follows: The hunter ties a bundle of feathers to the top of a long pole, up to twenty feet in length, and this he whirls around his head, high in the air, as he walks across the tussocky plains known to harbour the game they call “wilpa.” The wallabies, apparently taking the whizzing feathers to be an eagle hawk, squat in fear, and, for the moment, do not attempt to escape from the native. Before the animal recognizes the fraud, the treacherous spear of the hunter has pinned it to earth.

The larger species of these marsupials are hunted differently; they are mostly stalked and killed with the spear. It seems almost incredible that a native can approach a grazing kangaroo on a more or less open plain to within spear-throwing distance without being detected; but such is actually the case. He has so perfected his stealthiness that he utilizes every momentary opportunity, at which the animal’s attention is directed away from him; and slowly he approaches step by step. His swarthy colour in itself gives him a natural protection; but more, he has learned the value of artificially colouring himself with the earth or mud of the terrain he is about to scout. Thus upon a “blue mud flat” his body is painted a slaty blue, whilst on a lateritic soil he applies red ochre or clay. His work is considerably simplified when the ground contains such features as ant-hills or dark-coloured boulders, which he can simulate. A native, when stalking a kangaroo in this way, will always have his spear poised in readiness to be thrown instantaneously if need be. Vide [Plate XX].

In central as well as northern Australia, hunting parties are arranged as follows: Several men hide themselves at different points of a known pad, along which kangaroo are in the habit of travelling to water or cover. A large party of “beaters,” consisting of men, women, and children, disperse in the direction of where kangaroos have been reported to be feeding. On drawing near to the animals, all members of the beating party begin to sing and shout. In the Larrekiya tongue this sounds like “Ye-we o-ho, ye-we o-ho”; in the Arunndta more like “Yerrewai, yerrewai.” They scamper through the bush until a kangaroo is actually sighted, when it is pursued amidst the cries of “Yackäu, yackäu” in the former, and “Yackai” in the latter tongue. The frightened animal usually makes straight for the beaten pad, along which it tears at a terrific rate. Upon hearing the cry of the battue, the men in hiding along the pad place themselves in readiness; and when the animal leaps by, the nearest hunter quickly rises and discharges his spear. If he is successful in felling the animal, he raises a loud, triumphant shout of “Käu,” as a signal to the driving party, who as quickly as possible assemble at the spot. Should the spear of the first thrower miss the kangaroo, the chances are that the next man, further along the pad, will have a chance of trying his skill.

A native considers one of the big hind legs to be the most effective part to wound a kangaroo in, especially if the leg can be broken. If the animal is hit in any other part of its body, it will in all probability make off and that will necessitate perhaps a whole day’s tracking, before it can be overtaken and killed. If only lightly wounded, the hunters will experience considerable difficulty in bringing the game to bay; and the shrewdest strategy might be needed to outwit the watchful animal. In the latter case the pursuers often split their company, and, whilst some are attracting the kangaroo’s attention in the distance, the others endeavour to crawl towards it under cover, until they are near enough to impart the death blow.

Whilst pursuing a wounded animal, a native simply flies over the ground. He cares for no obstacles and seems instinctively to presage the stability of doubtfully inclined and pivotted rocks, lying upon hilly slopes or partially concealed among tall grass. Thus he, with great confidence, jumps from point to point, with the agility of an antelope, and makes rapid headway, whereas a white man would hesitate and come to grief.

In the Musgrave, Mann, and Tomkinson Ranges in central Australia, long brushwood fences are constructed of a more or less zig-zag shape, the angles of which lie upon beaten pads, which are known to be used by kangaroos and wallabies living in the particular area. At each “angle,” the natives dig a large, deep hole, the mouth of which they cover with thin sticks, pieces of bark, and subsequently the whole with sand and grass to give the trap as natural an appearance as possible. So much completed, a log of timber is placed across the pad, at that side of the hole, from which the fleeing game is expected to come. The idea of the log is to make the animal jump over it and land upon the flimsy cover of the hole on the other side. Quite frequently an aboriginal places himself in hiding behind the fence at one of the “angles” and spears the game as it emerges; in this case the hole is dispensed with.

A kangaroo-hunting expedition often takes a tribe far away from a main camp, and the party may be absent for two or three weeks at a time. A native knows that kangaroo follow the new grass, which appears upon patches recently visited by a thunder-cloud or, as is the case upon the north coast, by a bush fire. When either of such phenomena has been chronicled, and after a short time has lapsed, a party of experienced men leave the main camp and prospect the ground for game. When they return, they report the results of their mission to the old men, and, if favourable, arrangements are immediately made for the expedition. The best time for the hunt is considered to be the later afternoon; in the morning and during the heat of the day, the animals are resting, and the hunter knows that under those conditions his chances are not nearly so good as towards evening, when they leave their haunts to feed.

When in 1828 the military settlement at Fort Dundas disbanded, Sir Gordon Bremer let a number of Timor buffaloes, which had been used by the residents, roam at large. Since that time, the animals multiplied to such an extent that large herds were found by later settlers both on Melville Island and the mainland opposite. Thousands have been shot by European hunters, principally for their hides. The natives, too, have learned to recognize these beasts as an important asset to the objects of their chase, although, it must be admitted, the flesh is not relished to anything like the extent of that of the indigenous game; often, in fact, a buffalo is slain merely for a slice or two of the flesh, usually the tongue. The cattle of the European, on the other hand, is eaten with distinct pleasure. Buffalo are hunted by stalking with the spear. This is not a task which demands much skill or laborious strategy. The buffalo spends most of its time out on the plains, more or less under cover of the tall, rank grass, which grows up after the “wet season.” In consequence of this, it is a simple matter for the native to avail himself of the same cover when approaching his prey. In nearly every case, the wounded animal makes off, and the excited hunting gang follow it until it collapses through loss of blood. It might even be necessary to throw another spear or two during the chase to finally bring the beast to fall. The jubilation which takes place during the final stage of a buffalo-hunt is depicted in the Frontispiece of this book, an actual scene from life witnessed on Melville Island.

PLATE XIX

1. Aluridja tree-climber.

“The climber, as he ascends, cuts fresh notches into the bark with his tomahawk....”

2. Wordaman tree-climber.

“... the hunter is virtually hanging by his arms, which are hooked by the hands, and is sitting upon his heels.”

All along the north coast, a welcome addition to the daily fare is wild bees’ honey, or as it is now generally called by the semi-civilized tribes “sugar-bag.” The wild bee establishes its hive either in a hollow tree or in a crevice in the ground, and the hunting native—man, woman, or child—is ever on the look-out for it. When the exit of a hive has been discovered in the ground, from which numerous bees are flying, the lucky finder immediately begins to carefully dig down along the narrow channel until he reaches the honeycomb. If the supply is limited, it is usually removed in toto by hand and lifted to his mouth without further ado. If, on the other hand, there is a goodly amount available, the whole of the comb is collected and placed in a cooleman or other food-carrier and taken to camp.

When a hive is located in a hollow tree, the native places his ear against the butt and listens; by frequently altering the position of his ear like one undertaking a medical auscultation, he can gauge the exact position of the hive by the murmur and buzz beneath the bark. It is then a simple matter for him to cut into the cover and collect the honeycomb. Some of the experienced hunters can “smell” their way for a considerable distance to a wild-bee hive.

The Victoria River tribes have invented an ingenious device, by means of which they can secure honey from otherwise inaccessible fissures in rocks or hollows in stout-butted trees. A long stick is selected, to one end of which is tied a bundle of vegetable fibre or pounded bark. With the bundle forward, the stick is poked into the cleft leading to the hive, and, when the honey-comb is reached, it is turned around and allowed to absorb some of the honey. Then the stick is quickly removed and the absorbed honey squeezed from the fibres into a receptacle. The process is repeated, time after time, until the greater part of the honey has been obtained.

Wild bee honey is very liquid, but, nevertheless, quite as sweet and tasty as that of the Ligurian bee. The wild bee, moreover, possesses no sting, and so offers no serious resistance to the enthusiasm of the collector. The bee itself is comparatively small, about the size of an ordinary house fly.

There are no wild bees in central Australia, but in their stead appears the honey ant (Melophorus inflatus). These remarkable insects live underground, usually in the red sandy loams carrying forests of mulga. Throughout the MacDonnell Ranges, and the country north and south-west of them, and in the Musgrave Ranges district, they are eagerly looked for by the local tribes. When the entrance to a nest has been discovered, a gin at once sets to by inserting a thin stick as a guide and digging down the course of the hole. This is a somewhat tedious undertaking, and not infrequently she has to dig to so great a depth as to completely bury herself. On several occasions I have unexpectedly come across a woman thus engaged, and neither was she aware of my coming, nor I of her presence, until right opposite her. The “honey-ant” itself is a modified worker of the colony, which is so overfed by the ordinary workers that its abdomen swells to the size of a marble, about three-eighths of an inch in diameter, in consequence of the liquid honey stored within. With the exception of the few transverse plates, the abdominal walls are reduced to an extremely fine membrane, through which the honey can be clearly seen from outside. The insect’s viscera are compressed into a small space near the vent. The ant, in this condition, is naturally unable to move from the spot. It appears that the inflated ants in this phenomenal way provide for the needs of the colony during the barren season of the year, acting in the capacity of living tanks or barrels, which can be tapped as required.

The gin collects numbers of these ants, as she burrows her way downwards, and lays them in her cooleman; when the nest has been ransacked she returns with her prize to camp.

When a native wishes to partake of the honey, he grips one of the ants by the head, and, placing the swollen abdomen between his lips, he squeezes the contents into his mouth and swallows them.

In regard to the taste, the first sensation the palate receives is a distinct prick of formic acid, which is no doubt due to a secretion produced by the ant in self-defence. But this is both slight and momentary; and the instant the membrane bursts, it is followed by a delicious and rich flavour of pure honey.

The Aluridja and Wongapitcha call this wonderful ant “winudtharra,” whilst to the Arunndta it is known as “yerumba.”

In many parts of central Australia the leaves of the red gums (Eucalyptus rostrata), growing along the river-beds, are covered with lerp manna—white, conical structures, about the size of a small lentil, which are secreted by the larvæ of an insect known as Psylla. On account of their sweetish taste, large quantities of the cones are collected and eaten. The Arunndta refer to manna as “prelja.”

CHAPTER XV
VEGETABLE DIET

Women collect vegetable products—“Yelka”—“Munyeroo”—“Nardoo”—Water lily tubers—Native truffle—The “Kaula” or Native Pear—Gall-nuts of the mulga and bloodwood.

Whatever contributes towards the vegetable diet of a tribe is procured essentially by the women. Daily excursions are made by the women, young and old, collectively or in small groups, to lay in a stock for the family meal, which is prepared when the sire returns to camp. The articles which are collected are almost unlimited in variety, the time of the year usually determining which kind in particular is made the object of the day’s outing.

The children accompany their mother, and although they help in the general collecting, as decided by the mother, they find many little “luxuries,” like the seeds of the mistletoe and the nectar contained in the calyx of a flower, which they partake of as opportunity affords.

Throughout the central and west-central regions, one of the commonest vegetables, which is eaten in very large quantities, both raw and roasted, is the tunicated corm of the Cyperus rotundus, which grows in the sandy banks of practically all the river-courses in the area mentioned. These little bulbs grow not very deep below the surface, and, being covered by a comparatively loose sand or sandy loam, are easily obtained. The gins use “wanna” or yam-sticks which they mostly hold in the fist of one hand and apply the chisel-point to the ground like a pick, whilst the other hand scoops or scratches the sand out of the hole. As the bulbs come up, they are placed into the bark carrier ([Plate XXI]). The best time to dig for the bulbs is when the grass-like blades of the plant have dried off. When a tribe has been camped for a while near a favourable collecting ground, many acres of soil are turned over, giving one quite the impression of a cultivated field. The Arunndta call this bulb “yelka” or “irriakutta,” the Aluridja “dunnmördta.” The bulb is about the size of a field-pea. To eat it, all that is required to be done is to rub it between the palms of the two hands and then blow away the light shell, which peels off during the process. The natives usually take up five or six at a time and treat them thus, when they are to be eaten raw; children are especially fond of them raw. The bulbs have a sweetish, nutty flavour.

When “yelka” is to be roasted, the bulbs are laid for a short time on hot ashes, then taken up, rubbed between the hands, as described above, and eaten.

Of equal importance in this region is a little, fleshy-leaved plant, resembling a portulaca, which is known generally as “munyeroo,” and bears the botanic name of Claytonia. It springs up all over the sandhills of central Australia after a good rainfall. When on the march, the natives eat the leaves of this plant raw, both as nourishment and as a thirst-quencher; at times they are thrown on to hot ashes, and, after baking for a short time only, eaten hot. But by far the most important product of the munyeroo is its seed, which occurs as tiny jet-black grains enclosed within a capsule. Though to us it would seem most tedious work, it does not take the gins so very long to collect large quantities of the seed in their bark carriers or coolemans. Seen in bulk like this, the seed reminds one forcibly of gunpowder. With sufficient collected for a meal, they return to camp and clean the seed by “pouring” it from one carrier to another in the wind, when the dry shells will be blown away. If there is no wind available, the gin takes up a handful of the seed, and holding it over a cooleman, blows the husks away with her mouth. When tolerably clean, the seed is placed, little by little, upon a flat grinding stone and reduced to a mealy consistency with a pebble, which is worked by hand. Every now and again, a little water may be added to the mass, which, after a while, is scraped into a cooleman with the side of the hand. The paste may be eaten raw, but more frequently it is mixed with more meal to make a dough, and then baked in hot ashes. The Arunndta call this seed “ingwitega,” the Aluridja “waketo.”

On the eastern side of the great central region, especially along the Cooper Creek, the small plant commonly known as “nardoo” is economically the most important to the local tribes. Nardoo grows only on clayey flats, on which water has been stagnant for a while. It is not altogether unlike a small-leaved shamrock; and its scientific name is Marsilea quadrifolia. Forming a ring around the stem, just above the surface of the ground, each plant develops a bunch of spore cases, which, when matured, are gathered in great numbers by the tribes. Those of the readers who are familiar with the history of Australian exploration will recollect that the members of the ill-fated Burke and Wills expedition were for an appreciable time sustained by nardoo cakes, which were given them by the Yantowannta tribe on the Cooper Creek. The spore cases are flattish-oblong in shape, about the size of a small lentil, and extremely hard. The natives collect, grind, and prepare nardoo in precisely the same way as the other tribes mentioned treat the munyeroo. On account of the extensive use which is made of the stone hand-mill, in the Cooper Creek district, consisting of a large flat slab of stone, upon which a pebble is worked to and fro, the implement has earned for itself the name of nardoo-stone. The Arunndta refer to nardoo as “parapara,” the Dieri as “kalumba.”

By the same process the seed of many acacias, which is collected in considerable quantities, is made into cakes. A peculiar ingredient is added to the flour by the Victoria Desert tribes in the form of white ants, which they knead into the dough and bake with it.

On the north coast, from King Sound east to the Gulf of Carpentaria, quite a variety of grass seeds, also those of the lotus lily, are ground and baked.

One of the regular articles of vegetable diet in the tropics is the tuber of the water-lily, which is gathered by the score and roasted in ashes; it tastes almost like a potato, with perhaps a distinctive flavour about it resembling that of the Jerusalem artichoke. In the Northern Kimberleys, the species most frequently eaten is the beautiful Nymphaea stellata, which is variously known as “kapa,” “kadje,” or “toki.” But perhaps the most popular dish in the tuber line in the Northern Territories is the yam. A great variety of these is available, but it often requires the genius of an aboriginal to locate them, especially when there are no leaves showing on the surface. It is not every yam, however, which is esculent; and some are so “hot” that even the smallest portion of one applied to the mouth will severely blister the mucous membranes. Here again the expert knowledge of the native is of inestimable service to the inexperienced, for it is he who can at a glance tell which is fit for consumption and which is not; and it is he who can treat some of the peppery varieties in such a way as to eliminate the objectionable taste. Some kinds he discards entirely because he knows that, if he ate them, they would cause a painful “fire in the anus.”

Within a somewhat restricted area, extending from north of the Musgrave Ranges eastwards to the Depôt Sandhills, a fungus exists, which is known to the Aluridja and Wongapitcha as “widida,” and to the Arunndta as “oridja.” In general appearance it is much like the European truffle, and, like it, grows mostly below the surface of the ground; indeed it is difficult for the untrained eye to detect a widida, except under the direction of an aboriginal. At times one finds old sweetish juice. The inner layer of the shell is white, soft, and specimens showing above the ground, which have been exposed by wind or rain, but when this is the case, the fungus is not really fit for consumption, because its richness will have attracted many blowflies, and it will, in consequence, be teeming with maggots. A few specimens of this interesting fungus were collected by me and submitted to Mr. A. Grant, of Sydney, who determined it to be a species of Scleroderma. The widida may be eaten raw, but more commonly they are cooked in hot ashes.

In the mulga country of the Flinders Ranges, and all over central Australia, a species known as Marsdenia Leichhardti is rather common. It is a creeper with slender stalk and smallish, elongate leaves, and bears a pear-shaped fruit, consisting of a thin green skin, which encloses a mass of silky seeds. When broken the plant exudes a thick milky sap. The fruit, stalks, and leaves of the plant are eaten; they have quite an agreeable, sweetish taste. The Wongapitcha call the plant “päuya,” the Arunndta “langu,” whilst in the Flinders Ranges the recognized name for it is “kaula.” On account of the shape of its fruit, this plant is referred to by the settlers as “native pear.”

Gall nuts and excrescences, when obtainable, are also on the daily menu. The most popular is one which is found on the twigs of the mulga. It is usually referred to by the settlers as “mulga apple,” and grows up to the size of a walnut. The whole of the growth, with the exception of a small kernel-like structure, containing the insect, is edible. The taste, though slightly eucalyptine, might be compared with that of a “tasteless apple.” The Wongapitcha call the mulga apple “jarrulge,” and the Arunndta “takul.”

Another variety of gall nut is found on the smaller branches of the Bloodwood (Eucalyptus corymbosa), and is, in consequence, spoken of as the “bloodwood apple.” It is a nodular, warty, and woody growth, about the size of a billiard ball, the inside of which is hollow and contains, besides the parasite, a sweetish juice. The inner layer of the shell is white, soft, and edible; the whole reminding one of a miniature cocoanut.

CHAPTER XVI
BEVERAGES

Honey solution—Pandanus cider—Human blood.

Although, naturally, the principal and practically only drink of the various tribes is water, there are one or two special beverages deserving of notice. In central Australia, the Aluridja, Arunndta, and Wongapitcha collect many handfuls of Eremophila flowers, commonly called honeysuckle by the local white settlers, in their bark food-carriers, on to which they pour a quantity of water. The flowers are stirred around for a while with a stick and then skimmed off with a piece of bark or by hand. The drink is ready for consumption immediately after; it has a slightly sweetish taste, and is relished by young and old. Another source of nectar is the beautiful red flower of Brachysema Chambersii, which grows in abundance in the sandhills both north and south of the MacDonnell Ranges and is known by the Arunndta as “aumba.”

On the north coast of Australia, the wild-bee honey is upon occasions dissolved in water and drunk. This is nearly always done when the comb, obtained in the first place, is mixed with sand and grit, or when the honey is absorbed in the fibres of the collecting implement described above ([page 146]).

The Roper River tribes pick the large fruits of the corkscrew palm or pandanus, which are not unlike pineapples in appearance, but very hard and stringy, and, after bashing them between heavy stones, they keep them immersed in water for some time before they drink the solution. The water absorbs the sweetly stringent juice and produces a refreshing toddy. It being necessary to keep the fruit in water for some time to extract as much of the palatable ingredient as possible (it may be, for that matter, that the natives leave the solution behind in a cooleman, while they go on a hunting tour, returning for it in the course of some days’ time), opportunity is given for the solution to start fermenting; a mild pandanus-cider is the result. It actually happens that upon great festive occasions, when large quantities of this beverage have been made some time beforehand, the natives imbibe more than ordinarily, and thereby bring themselves into a condition of indubitable merriment. The Katherine and Victoria River tribes make a similar beverage, but do not store it for any length of time. This is the only instance I am aware of where Australian natives, intentionally or unintentionally, make an intoxicating drink.

When men are on a long-distance stage, as, for instance, during a drought, when water is scarce and the sun is relentlessly fierce, they are occasionally obliged to resort to the old tribal custom of drinking each other’s blood to escape perishing of thirst. They open a vein in the arm and collect the blood in a cooleman, or they allow one or more of their companions to drink straight from the wound. In certain cases of sickness blood is also given to the patient to drink.

CHAPTER XVII
PITJURI

Distribution of native tobacco—Collecting grounds—Native names—Pitjuri habit—Preparation of leaves—Stimulating and comforting properties—Ash added to liberate the alkaloid—Properties of piturine.

Most of the central Australian tribes have learned to recognize the narcotic properties of the tobacco-like plant commonly called pitjuri. All tribes, from the Wongapitcha eastwards to beyond the borders of Queensland and New South Wales, know the value of the plant, and even if it does not actually grow in the particular tribal area, its leaves are obtained from adjoining tribes by barter. The Dieri, Yantowannta, Wongkanguru, and Ngameni are all required to procure their supplies from further north, because the plant does not grow in the Cooper Creek district. The Arunndta, and latterly the Aluridja as well, regularly collect as much pitjuri as they want in the valley of the Finke and other gorges of the MacDonnell Ranges, whilst the Wongapitcha have their resources in the Musgrave and Everard Ranges.

The collecting grounds are as a rule owned by a circle of old men, each of whom clearly defines his boundaries by placing a number of stones upon the ground. A proprietor may give another person the necessary permission to gather leaves on his plot according to certain terms agreed upon. The owner usually takes a share of the leaves, and, in addition, levies other articles in exchange for what the collector has removed.

The plant is known by different names among different tribes; the Arunndta call it “engulba,” the Wongapitcha “peturr,” and the Aluridja either “mingul” or “warrakinna.” Scientifically it goes by the name of Duboisia Hopwoodi.

The leaves and stalks of pitjuri are chewed by both men and women, and in many cases by children also. It cannot be denied, once a person starts chewing pitjuri, he soon develops a craving for it, like a habitual smoker does for tobacco. The usual plan is to partially dry the leaves in the sun, or over warm ashes, on the spot, and subsequently pack them into bundles to take home, with the intention of storing them for future use. But once camp is reached, the future aspect becomes entirely inconsequential, because so long as pitjuri is known to be available, the supplies are drawn upon; the result is that the larder soon becomes depleted.

The men have a way of their own when preparing the pitjuri. Some of the dried leaves are ground between two stones and the powder brushed on to a small piece of bark. Then a few twigs of acacia or eucalypt bark are burned to white ash, which is mixed with the powder, the whole being subsequently worked into a softish mass with saliva. Of the final mixture a quantity is taken and rolled between another dry leaf of the pitjuri, cigar-fashion; and it is ready for mastication. A plug of pitjuri does not always remain the property of one individual, especially when the supplies are running short, but often passes from one mouth to another, until it has done the necessary round. When not in use, the plug is secured behind the owner’s ear, after the style an office clerk carries a pencil.

The natives admit the stimulating benefits they derive from chewing, or, as they say, “eating,” of pitjuri, both when they feel off colour or fagged after a strenuous day’s outing. On the other hand, they look upon pitjuri-chewing in company as a social comforter, which fosters mirthfulness and friendly fellow-feeling. When natives meet, even though they be comparative strangers, an exchange, loan, or presentation of pitjuri takes place, as a token of friendship. In the same spirit, a native considers the gift of a stick of tobacco from a European stranger, who, according to tribal ideas, unlawfully passes over the hereditary boundary, as a mere formal obligation, which expresses the intruder’s peaceable intentions.

The burnt acacia ash, which is added to the powdered leaf of the pitjuri plant, has a somewhat important function to perform; and one marvels at Nature having given the unsophisticated aboriginal the hint to add it. One of the favourite species, which is burnt for the purpose, is Acacia salicina. A. J. Higgin has determined by analysis that the ash of this plant contains the astounding amount of 51.15 per cent. of calcium sulphate, mixed with a little carbonate of lime. It is the alkali in this ash which liberates an alkaloid, known as piturine, from the crushed pitjuri leaves when the two substances meet in the presence of moisture supplied by the spittle; and this piturine is much the same in its action as nicotine. An alkaloid is nowadays manufactured from the leaves of the Australian plant which is used in medicine as a powerful sedative and hypnotic. It is not difficult, therefore, to understand why an emu, drinking from a water poisoned with the leaf of pitjuri, should become stupefied. Vide [page 139].

CHAPTER XVIII
NAVIGATION

Floating log—Log rafts—Paddles—Outfit carried on board—Bark canoes of different patterns—Used in southern and northern Australia—“Housing” of canoes—“Dug-outs”—With or without outriggers—Sails.

We have on several occasions alluded to the fact that the natives make use of some kind of craft while hunting and fishing. A few remarks, therefore, upon aboriginal navigation in general may be appropriate at this juncture.

The simplest type of float is no doubt the log of light timber used along the north and north-east coast. The straight trunk of a mangrove is selected, and from it a log is cut, about five or six feet long, which is stripped of its branches. Where a river or an estuary has to be crossed, such a log is slipped into the water and the native lays his body over it, lengthwise, with his legs straddling it. With his head and shoulders well above the surface of the water, the swimmer propels himself along by means of his legs; occasionally he also uses his arms, but then primarily for steadying his body above the log. The natives maintain that this method gives them a certain amount of protection against the attacks of crocodiles, since, when viewed from below, the man and the log together resemble one of the reptiles in form. For the same reason the lower thin end is often left tapering to a point, to simulate the tail of a crocodile.

When two or three, or more, of these light logs of mangrove are lashed together, a simple raft results—a type in frequent use along the eastern shores and rivers of north Australia. The craft is propelled by either a pole or a paddle, the man standing in the former case and sitting in the latter.

The same contrivance is used when a man wishes to cross a river or a bay, and carry his children or belongings across, without swamping them. In this case, he usually swims alongside the raft and propels it by powerful leg-strokes.

In the north-western corner of the Australian continent (i.e. the King Sound—Glenelg River districts), navigation is undertaken in large rafts. These are constructed as follows: From six to ten poles are cut out of the trunks of a tall, straight-growing mangrove, resembling a pine in shape. The poles are cut into twelve-foot lengths, and are then trimmed longitudinally, so that they taper from about one-quarter their length downwards, like an elongated club; the two ends are pointed off. In their thickest part, the poles measure about six inches in diameter. Two of these pieces are now laid upon a level patch of ground, side by side, with the thick ends all pointing in the same direction, and “nailed” together with stakes of hard wood, at various distances along the entire length of the poles. The remaining poles are linked to the original two in a similar way; and so a strong platform results, in which the poles converge in the direction of the thin ends like the arms of a fan. Another platform is constructed exactly similar to the one just described. The only tools used in the making of these structures are tomahawks and large stone and shell scrapers.

All completed, one of the platforms is dragged down the beach and floated; then the second is taken to the water and lifted so that it rides upon the former with the converging ends reversed. The raft is now ready for use ([Plate XXII], 2).

Crudely fashioned paddles are used, about six feet long, and similar to those of the Melville and Bathurst Islanders. The local name for these is “kanbanna.”

One or two natives usually go out with a raft like this, and it is astounding with what skill and celerity the clumsy-looking structure can be handled and paddled along.

The local name for the raft is “kaloa.” The principal use to which it is put is fishing and turtle-hunting; the mainland tribes moreover use such rafts for general ferrying, when they make their periodic visits to the islands included within their tribal possessions.

One or two cushions of grass or reeds are laid upon the platform before leaving, to afford dry seating accommodation; and the hunters never go without taking a fairly solid fire-stick, which is stuck in an upright position between two poles of the raft. A few spears and a long harpoon (about ten feet long), with a barb at the pointed end, are carried, the latter being secured to the raft by means of a good length of rope. A heavy boomerang is also added to the outfit, with which the hunters might kill the spoil when they haul it on deck.

Similar log-rafts are in use on some of the islands in the Gulf of Carpentaria, but one platform only is constructed, and the logs are simply lashed together with vines.

Any observant visitor to the River Murray will not fail even nowadays, when much of the original timber has disappeared, to observe the numerous trees, growing at or near the banks, from which large sheets of bark have been removed years ago by the local natives. The bark was used for making canoes. Sheets were cut from the eucalyptus trees, measuring from twelve to twenty feet in length by from three to four feet in width. These were laid horizontally upon the ground and moulded into shape while hot ashes were applied to them, the edges being propped up all round while the bottom was kept more or less flat. Several stakes were placed crosswise to keep the sides in position, both at the ends and at the centre. One end was usually more pointed than the other and slightly more elevated; this acted as the bow of the canoe. When thoroughly dry, the craft was launched and carried up to six or seven passengers. In addition, a small bed of clay was built upon the bottom, which carried a fire. The canoe was propelled by a man, who stood near the stern and either poled or paddled it along with a long oar.

PLATE XX

Kangaroo hunters, Aluridja tribe.

“It seems almost incredible that a native can approach a grazing kangaroo on a more or less open plain to within spear-throwing distance....”

A number of different types of canoes are in use on the north coast, constructed out of one or more pieces of bark. In the Gulf country, a piece of bark is freshly detached from a tree, folded along its length, and laid upon the ground in a horizontal position. The ends are then heated, to render them pliable, and securely clamped between two upright stakes, and tied closely together above and below the folded sheet. Stakes of a length equal to that of the required width of the craft are next propped from side to side, to give the canoe its shape, and the ends trimmed on either side with a sharp stone-knife or fragment of shell. The bottom corners are usually bevelled or rounded off. The edges are finally held together by sewing them with strips of cane. Long, thin saplings, stitched along the inner top edges of both sides, act as gunwales and considerably strengthen the structure. One or two ties of lawyer cane are stretched from side to side to prevent the bark from bulging in the centre. When afloat, a native squats low in the canoe near the stern and makes good headway by paddling with a small, oblong piece of bark, first on one side and then on the other.

In some cases, the bark sides are stiffened by poking flexible U-shaped hoops under the saplings which form the gunwales; and in others the sides are kept in position by a number of such hoops, together with stretchers and ties, without any special gunwale at all.

The Melville and Bathurst Islanders use large bark canoes up to nearly twenty feet long, which they construct after the following principle: A single sheet of bark is cut from either the woollybutt (Eucalyptus miniata) or the stringybark (E. tetradonta) by chopping through it circumferentially at two heights from the ground, the distance between which represents the required length of the canoe that is to be. Slitting this piece once vertically for the whole length, it is removed by forcing the edge of a chisel-pointed stake under the bark and levering it off. The outer surface of this piece of bark is rough and becomes the inside of the canoe. Transverse cuts are made about two feet from each end, and half the thickness of the bark removed with a sharp bivalve shell (Cyrena). The ends, which have by this treatment become pliable, are further softened by holding them over a fire. The sheet is folded lengthwise along its middle and clamped at its ends with stakes rammed vertically into the ground. The bottom corner of the fold is bevelled off by one or two sloping cuts, along which the two pieces are sewn together with close, overcast stitches; then the pieces are stitched together horizontally at the top corner, for a distance of three or four inches. Thus secured, an angular or curved piece is cut away from the bark, lying between the two sewn corners, in imitation of a fish-tail, and neatly laced together with strips of the lawyer vine. Holes are previously drilled through the bark with an awl made out of the leg-bone of a wallaby. The joints are made secure by plastering them with wild bees’ wax, and the corners are caulked with plastic clay and fibre or resin. Along the top, inner edges of the canoe, on both sides, thin, straight poles are lashed with “run on” stitches. These, however, do not extend the whole length of the canoe, and, being straight, do not enclose the stern and bow of the craft. In other respects the structure is much the same as that in vogue in the Gulf of Carpentaria country.

When not in use, the canoes are “housed” on a level piece of ground under the overhanging branches of a banyan or other shady tree. They are laid in a normal, upright position (not inverted), and are kept so by short pieces of timber, which are propped against the sides. The bark thus dries in the required shape and does not become lopsided. Each canoe has its recognized place. When a dense growth of mangroves skirts the foreshore, a regular approach to the water is kept clear by cutting away the trees as they grow up. The paddles are laid within the canoes.

When the occasion demands it, quite a large number of natives may be carried in a canoe, but usually, when on a simple turtle or dugong hunting expedition, two persons only man the craft. The boatmen, while propelling the canoe, squat with their buttocks resting upon the heels, and with their knees pressed against the vessel’s sides. The weight of the bodies being thus well within, the stability of the canoe is considerably increased.

Although these canoes are mostly used for navigating the various rivers and estuaries of Melville and Bathurst Islands, and especially Apsley Straits, occasionally, when wind and weather are favourable, the natives venture far out to sea, and not infrequently do they make the journey across to the mainland, some forty or fifty miles away, where in former days they carried on a bitter warfare with the Larrekiya and other tribes.

It is at times imperative that a canoe be attached to a hunting or warring party, which is travelling overland and later might want to drift down, or paddle up, a river or inlet to reach its destination. Under such circumstances, six or eight men carry the craft upon their shoulders as they walk alternately left and right of it.

Paddles are made of hard wood, having a single, well-shaped blade and a rounded handle. The edges of the blade are parallel, or taper slightly towards the end, which is either square or rounded. They are from three to five feet in length. When rowing, the natives clasp the handle with both hands and dip the blade on one side or the other, just as the steering requires it.

Certain north-eastern tribes of Queensland used to make their canoes of two or three sheets of bark. In the first instance the sheets would be stitched along the keel, and in the second a lenticular or oval piece was inserted, which acted as a flat bottom.

Dug-outs are found all along the north coast, but it is very probable that they are of foreign origin, presumably Melanesian or Polynesian. A suitable tree having been felled, its ends are shaped and the inside chopped, gouged, and burned out, so that only the outer walls remain. Some very big boats of this description were seen in use among the Larrekiya, and their seaworthiness was proved time after time.

Some of the Queensland tribes attach one or two outriggers to their canoes, which, of course, give them additional safety when by chance they might be overtaken by a rough or choppy sea.

The Groote Islanders in the Gulf of Carpentaria carry a mast in the centre of their dug-outs, to which they lash two long horizontal bamboo-booms and spread a sail between them. This circumstance is remarkable, since the Groote Islanders are among the least known of the Australian tribes and have come less into contact with Europeans than other tribes who might have learned the use of sails.

PLATE XXI

1. Arunndta girl digging “Yelka.”

“The gins use “wanna” or yam-sticks, which they mostly hold in the fist of one hand....”

2. Arunndta gin cleaning “Yelka” in bark pitchi.

“... all that is required to be done is to rub it between the palms of the two hands....”

CHAPTER XIX
DUELS

Bragging preferred to fighting—Duels frequent among the women—Petty provocations—The “Kutturu”—Men use similar sticks and boomerangs for striking purposes—Waddies and clubs described—The “Damatba”—Wooden swords—Duels with reed spears—Stone dagger duels—Heavy spear duels—Chivalrous methods—“Bone-pointing” and other methods of suggesting death to an enemy—“Pointing” sticks—How the “boned” person is affected—Counter-charm the only cure—The medicine man or “Nangarri”—His witchcraft—The recovery.

Although under ordinary circumstances the aboriginal of Australia is a peaceable, placid individual, who prefers to talk of what he could do to his enemy rather than look for trouble in a hostile camp, yet, being human, there are naturally extenuating circumstances, which might thrust the obligation upon his shoulders to pick up arms and fight for the sake of his individual honour or of his tribe’s safety. In the former case a duel is arranged, in the latter a regular warfare is waged, which might last a day or continue, off and on, for years at a time.

Duels are perhaps more frequently fought among the women than the men, the cause in most cases being trivial. A common disturbance of the peace is brought on by petty theft. One woman might, intentionally or otherwise, appropriate a small article belonging to another. When the article is missed by the owner, an argument ensues, which soon warms up to a strained pitch of excitement. Abusive epitaphs become prolific, which repeatedly embody references to excrement and other filth. Eventually the irate hags can constrain themselves no longer and each produces her fighting stick, known throughout central and northern Australia as “kutturu.” Walking towards each other, and all the time striking the ground in front of them, from left to right, and from right to left, the women continue their vilification. In the Arunndta tongue this is something after the following style: “Uttnarranduddi, uttnatikkia, atutnia, arrelinjerrai!”

The ground is struck with the heavy sticks immediately in front of the opponent’s feet, so vigorously that dust and dirt fly into the air. It is not long before the foot of one of the gins is struck; and then the fight begins. The gin that was hit immediately lifts her kutturu and aims a blow at the head of the offender. But the latter in all probability will have been prepared to ward off the blow.

The kutturu consists of a heavy “ironwood” stick, on an average about three feet long and of circular section; it is bluntly pointed at each end and usually has a carved decoration upon its surface. The parrying party holds the stick with its pointed ends between her palms, and, by moving or swaying it from side to side in an inclined position, diverts the force of the impact from her head. The duellists take it turn about to strike and parry. The head is the principal mark, but it is not against the rules to aim at the fingers. When the latter are struck, it not infrequently happens that one or two of them are broken.

If the antagonist is too clever at warding off a blow, a gin might occasionally alter her tactics and try to stab the head opposite her with the point of the kutturu. If the attempt proves successful, a very deep gash often results, followed by a prolific flow of blood. The damaged gin wails aloud and drops her kutturu whilst she catches the blood, which is pouring from her wound, in the hollow of her hand and throws it in the other’s face.

The triumphant assailant does not take a mean advantage of her “score,” but replies to the blood-slinging by rushing to the nearest fire, from which she scoops a double handful of hot ashes to throw at the lamenting one. This is by no means the end of the trouble, but really incenses the combatants to more desperate action.

So soon as the wounded gin has overcome the shock, she plucks fresh courage and again takes up the argument with her kutturu. The fight continues until one of the gins receives a blow on the head severe enough to disable her, or until both have kept the strife going to a stage of complete exhaustion.

When a gin has been disabled, and lies more or less in an unconscious condition upon the ground, the victor stands over her, triumphantly swinging her kutturu, whilst her tongue dispels the hatred by talking incessantly without opposition.

During the whole time of this heated altercation, the camp has been generally disorganized. Other women are vociferating wildly, children are screaming, a few score dogs yelping, and the men are sitting around quietly and gloomily, with their eyes turned from the scene of the duel, and only occasionally exchanging a few words in a subdued whisper.

The method the men adopt for settling their disputes among themselves is not unlike that of the women, but more systematic. They place themselves face to face upon a clear piece of ground, with their kutturus in their hands, and about half a chain apart. After the customary abusive preliminaries, the psychological moment arrives, when one man rushes at the other carrying his weapon in both hands behind his back, and, as he runs, preparing for a monstrous blow. When he reaches to within striking distance of his opponent, he pulls up short, and, with the momentum created by his run behind him, deals an awful whack. But the other man has placed himself in the defensive attitude, and, as the weapon falls, he springs forwards and upwards to parry the blow destined to crash upon his skull. The striker now retraces his steps and prepares to receive the onslaught from the opposite side. This procedure of alternate attack and defence continues until one of the men falls or both combatants are thoroughly exhausted. All through the fight, however, there is a wonderful display of power, agility, and chivalry, the figures of both the striker and receiver being conspicuously graceful in their movements ([Plate XIII], 2).

Where the boomerang is known it, too, is extensively used, in conjunction with the shield, by duellists to settle minor altercations. The offended party throws one of his missiles into the camp of his rival as a summons to the fight, whereupon the latter immediately responds by throwing another back, and walks out into the open, carrying with him a single boomerang and a shield. Both men now start a war-dance, during which they gradually approach each other, lifting their legs high in the knees, brandishing their boomerangs in the air, and holding their shields in front of their bodies. After a while, they close in; and the real fight begins. Whenever an uncovered spot presents itself on either man, the opponent, with the quickness of lightning, attempts to strike it with his weapon. The hands in particular are selected as the best marks to quickly put the rival out of action; and this opportunity is never missed when it presents itself to the quick eye of the native.

Waddies and clubs of various forms are used all over Australia, both with and without shields, to decide the rights or wrongs of individual grievances.

There is no hard and fast line of demarcation between a waddy or fighting-stick and a club. The original conception of either is a short stick or truncheon, which is used both for beating and throwing.

The commonest form is a cylindrical rod of hard wood with a smooth or vertically grooved exterior and rounded ends. It is either straight or curved.

The Bathurst Islanders have a type similar to the above, but with a slightly swollen distal end. The stick often carries a sharp spike, which projects from the same end.

The largest fighting-sticks are to be seen in the Forrest River district in the far north-western district of Western Australia, measuring up to four and a half feet in length. The stick tapers from the top towards the handle end, and has a flat face at either extremity. A gripping surface is made by roughly incising the thinner end all round for a distance of four or five inches.

A peculiar combination of implement with weapon was used by the women of the lower River Murray tribes. It consisted of a stick with a blade at one end and a knob at the other, the one moiety serving as a digging stick, the other as a club.

Along the Cooper Creek, a large, stout baton of mulga, with a globate knob at the handle end, was used by the Wongkanguru, Yantowannta, and other tribes.

Some very shapely clubs belonged to the Narrinyerri. They were made of casuarina wood, and had a heavy, inflated head, which was usually pointed off at the top. The handle was moderately thin and had a number of circular grooves cut near its end to prevent the hand from slipping when the wood was wielded. Further west, on the Nullarbor Plains, the thick end was not pointed off, but, on the contrary, was perceptibly flattened. In both types mentioned, the surface was well smoothed and polished, although the clubs of the coastal tribes along the Great Australian Bight were generally longitudinally grooved.

A rather fanciful form of club, reminding one of the medieval spiked clubs, was found in the possession of the fast disappearing Yantowannta tribe at Innamincka. A stick, nearly two feet six inches long, and circular in section, had an enlargement near the head-end, which was deeply grooved vertically and, in the upper portion, circumferentially also, the intersection of the grooves producing a number of pointed prominences.

Used in conjunction with a heavy three-sided shield, the south-eastern tribes of South Australia fought most of their duels with a dangerous type of waddy, some two feet or more long, which had an attenuated knob at the handle end and a flat, angular projection at the opposite end; the latter was sharp and pointed. The weapon was known as “lionila,” and, from our point of view, might be classed as a battle axe.

In the Roebuck Bay district, a flat, hard-wood club is found, the sides of which are straight and slightly tapering towards the handle end; the edges being rounded off. One of the flat sides is usually ornamented with an engraved geometrical pattern.

The Larrekiya and Wogait construct a flat throwing weapon, not unlike a small cricket bat in shape, from six to twelve inches long, which they call “damatba.” It has a short handle and very sharp edges, and, being hurled at an enemy edgewise, it flies through the air with a revolving motion. If any part of the native’s naked body is struck with this weapon, a very deep wound is always inflicted, from the effects of which the unfortunate victim might easily bleed to death.

Under the category of fighting-sticks we might also mention the wooden swords, of which some form or other is known all over the continent.

In its normal form, the sword is a long and narrow, lanceolate blade of hard and heavy wood, up to five feet in length. The sides are convex, and the edges fairly sharp. The surfaces are either smooth or longitudinally grooved, and in addition decorated with finely incised patterns of different descriptions. These swords are much used by the Minning tribe of the Eucla district.

The Cooper Creek tribes make the weapon with a slight curve in it, like a boomerang, the length being about the same as in the previous type. Among the Dieri it goes by the name of “marriwirri.” The Arunndta and Aluridja forms are not made so long, but slightly wider, and of very heavy mulga wood.

In the northern coastal districts, the type is different in so far as it tapers towards that end, which is to serve as the handle, and terminates there in a flat or slightly concave base. The haft is not infrequently bound round with vegetable fibre, and subsequently covered with beeswax, to prevent the hands from slipping.

These weapons are all used with two hands for striking and parrying blows during a duel. When about to “receive” a blow, the native takes the precaution to keep his elbows close against his body to avoid the risk of having his arm broken by the ricochet of the heavy weapon. A favourite mark is the opponent’s hands; and the fighter has to carefully guard them by adroitly and instantly shifting the sword sideways the moment he perceives that the blow has been aimed at them.

The northern and north-western tribes use light reed spears when settling quarrels between two individuals. The spear is about five feet long and has a tapering head of mangrove wood, which is inserted into the top end of the reed shaft. All coastal tribes, from the Adelaide River westwards to the Ord River, use this spear, but it is not known in central Australia. The opponents, standing about forty or fifty feet apart, throw the weapons at each other with wonderful precision, but before the dangerous little missile can reach its mark, the would-be recipient dodges it with equal skill. A number of such spears is carried by each combatant. Whilst the duel is proceeding, the two natives dance in defiance to taunt the rival, grotesquely jumping from one foot to the other, holding the arms semi-erect and bent at the elbows and wrists, whilst the body is thrown forward and the head kept back. When a spear passes very near to or grazes its mark, the native greets his escape with a short but strangely articulated exclamation sounding like “irr.” The throwers are constantly on the move, and, whenever possible, one stoops to pick up a new spear from a bundle of them lying at his side. The little missiles are so light that, when they hit the ground, they skip along the surface and can be recovered uninjured. Although these spears seem more like toys than weapons, they are nevertheless most formidable on account of their sharp point and the velocity with which they travel.

A method which is in vogue among the central Australian tribes, like the Arunndta and Dieri, is the dagger duel. The dagger employed is a long stone-knife with a grip or haft of porcupine resin; the Arunndta name for it is “putta ildurra.” The combatants hold one of such daggers in one hand and a light shield of kurrajong wood in the other, and thus equipped they approach each other. After some preliminaries in the way of dancing and an accompaniment of excited shrieking, the men close in upon one another. With the shield they not only catch the well-directed stabs before any bodily injury is done, but they also thrust the opponent back to keep him at arm’s length. It is not an uncommon event for such a duel to be fought for a considerable time without any bloodshed, the skilful parrying checking many a fatal blow until eventually utter exhaustion appeases the thirst for revenge and soothes the hatred, which was only too evident at the beginning of the duel. At other times severe gashes are inflicted, which occasionally terminate fatally. Vide [Fig. 4].

Fig. 4. Two Arunndta carvings of scenes in a dagger-duel (× 1/3). Tracing.

The most serious of all duels is undoubtedly that in which the heavy spear is used. The method is similar to that of the light spear fights, with the distinction that those engaged in the strife stand further apart, and do not run the same amount of risk by exposing themselves to the same extent as in the former case. It is recognized that a “hit” by one of the large heavy-bladed spears will result in a dangerous wound, and, therefore, the men face the ordeal in all conscientiousness, knowing that if they can prove themselves equal to their opponent’s dexterity for a reasonable length of time, the moment will arrive when the strife might be terminated by arbitration. One occasionally meets with a person who has a broken portion of a spear-head deeply embedded in the musculature of his thigh or other region of his body, where a violent inflammation around the lesion has caused the sufferer much pain because he has not been able to extract the offending piece of wood or stone from the tissue.

PLATE XXII

1. Sunday Islander making fire by the twirling process during a ceremonial.

2. “Kaloa” or mangrove raft, Worora tribe, Glenelg River district.

In the Balmaningarra district of the northern Kimberleys of Western Australia, the warriors hold the shield (which they call “karwinnunga”) in their left hand, but, if necessity arises, they quickly change it to the right. As a spear whizzes by harmlessly, or is skilfully warded off, the defendant sounds a short triumphant “p-r-r-r” with protruding and vibrating lips. When about to “receive” a missile, the native stands in much the same attitude as that adopted by a modern rapier-duellist. The moment, however, he realizes that his antagonist’s aim has been inaccurate, or he has been successful in dodging or warding off the death-bringing stick, he balances himself on one leg, cocks the other under his buttocks, and defiantly throws his arms above his head, jeering at his enemy and inviting him to throw once more, crying: “Look! I am defenceless, and I am exposing my body to you! I have no fear of you; your spears can only scratch the ground as the yam-stick of a woman digging for grubs!”

Barely has he finished his taunting sentence, and before the other man has had time to prepare for another throw, he bounds forward and projects his weapon. During the fight, the antics of the men, especially of the one on the defensive, are remarkable, jumping from leg to leg, at one time holding the shield straight in front of the body whilst covering the head, at another, standing erect with the shield at about the level of his chest.

During their duels, an admirable spirit of chivalry is displayed by the combatants. If, for instance, a shield breaks, the man who has the advantage refuses to fight until the broken weapon has been replaced. The same regulation applies to a broken spear, but not to a broken spear-head; if the latter breaks, the circumstance is looked upon as the result of bad workmanship, and the fight continues. Only a certain number of spears is carried by the parties; and any damaged weapon might be replaced from a bundle held in reserve by the gins, who stand in readiness. When the missiles have been spent on both sides, the parties change ends to collect their spears, after which the hostilities are resumed.

Irrespective of any of the methods here described, whereby the natives actually fight with weapons for the sake of honour or revenge, it is quite as customary among all Australian tribes to bring about the downfall of a rival or enemy by the magic influence of suggestion. This is the wonderfully potent method of “pointing” death at a man, who may or may not be present or visible. The process is usually referred to as “pointing the bone,” or simply “boning.”

In the Alligator district of the Northern Territory, the excrement of a man, who is to be sent to his death, is collected and roasted over a fire; after which a little of it is taken and mixed with the resin of porcupine grass. A ceremonial dance follows during the night, which is of a very secret character, men as well as women participating. The chants which are sung implore the birds of night—the owl, the plover, and the curlew—not to betray the men who are seeking revenge. At the far end of the ground, cleared for the occasion, a hole is dug, in which a fire is burned while the ceremony is in progress. Enchanting songs are now rendered, which are to entice the spirit-father of the doomed man to attend. A little later one of the principal performers marches forwards, carrying a small ball of resin mixed with the burned excrement, together with a short stick representing the spirit-father. At a given moment, he begins to dance and, with his free hand, catches hold of his scrotum. When he arrives at the hole, in which the fire is burning, other men snatch the glowing embers and clear the ashes out of the way. The dancer throws the resin-ball containing the excrement into the hole and covers it with hot sand. The moment it strikes the hot ground, the resin fizzles and crackles; and those sounds are taken to be the voice of the spirit calling the victim from the earth.

Shortly after the ceremony these facts are made known to the unfortunate who has been selected to die; they are usually conveyed to him by one or two eye-witnesses of the ceremony. Overcome with consternation and terror, the fellow immediately begins to fret; and death will inevitably be the outcome, unless the counter-influence of a medicine man or other tribal power can make itself felt beforehand.

Upon other occasions in the same district, the footprint of a man, who has been decreed to die, might be found upon a clay-flat or a river bank. The track must be intact; if it be in the least degree imperfect, it is considered useless for the purpose. Taking for granted, then, that it is clear and well-defined, the mould is cut out of the clay in toto and buried in an anthill. There it is secreted until such time as the spirit of the doomed man’s father is supposed to be in attendance at a tribal ceremonial, when it is fetched and broken over a blazing fire. This act answers the same purpose as the burning of the resin and excrement in the previous case.

An old Arunndta custom was to “cut the shadow” of a man, who was to die, with a sharpened mussel-shell knife called “langa langa.”

When a man of the Worora tribe dies, his relatives resolve to avenge his death, which they suppose was the work of an enemy, whom they name. During the obsequies, a bone is taken from the arm of the deceased, usually the humerus, but occasionally the radius, and small portions cut or scraped off it, to be handed to the nearest of kin, who officiate as the avenging party. The little group sit facing the direction in which the supposed murderer is seen, or at any rate is known to be residing. Together they place some of the pieces of their relative’s bone, which they call “gibba,” into their mouths, and, after chewing them for a while, they spit the pulp towards their victim, at the same moment naming him as the perpetrator of the deed—the cause of their bereavement. The Sunday Islanders adopt a similar method, but refer to the bone as “käu-käu”.

Most of the tribes are in possession of differently shaped sticks and bones, with which the death-pointing is done. These are usually about three or four inches long, pointed at one or both ends, and containing a small bleb of resin at one end, to which a piece of human hair-string is attached. When the instrument is of bone, it is usually a piece of the dead man’s skeleton. The Aluridja take the fibula of the man whose death is to be avenged, and construct a flattish “bone,” pointed off at both ends. The Arunndta select the same bone, or the ulna, which they scrape down to a long tapering point at one end; to the opposite extremity they attach a little porcupine resin. Occasionally one finds these objects carried in hollow bone or bark-receptacles. Another common form of the Arunndta is a short stick, at either end of which a blunt arrow head knob is carved, round one of which a long piece of human hair-string is tied. A simple punctate design is at times burned into the stick. Some of the southern tribes of the Northern Territory have pointing stones, which are shaped much like a stone-knife, hafted with porcupine resin and suspended by a long piece of human hair-string.

A number of such pointing instruments are constantly carried about by certain men of the tribe, whilst others are kept buried in places only known to a few. Often a stick is constructed just when the occasion requires one, and when there happens to be none available.

PLATE XXIII

Aluridja men “pointing” the bone.

“One man cowers upon the ground ... whilst the second, kneeling at the side of him, holds his pointing stick at arm’s length....”

Any fully initiated men may make use of a pointing-bone or stick, but when the grievance concerns the tribe in general, the operation is performed by the magician or medicine man. Women do not generally carry these sticks, but the Aluridja, and no doubt others also, allow their gins to charm their yam-sticks, with which they then “kill” their antagonists. A charmed yam-stick is believed to paralyse the arms of any person, whom it touches, when appealed to by the owner; consequently one of this kind is chosen for duelling whenever possible.

When a man has been condemned to death, the person or persons, who are to administer the fatal charm, are nominated. The “pointing” apparatus are produced, and with them the men take up a kneeling position a little distance away from the camp. Facing the doomed man’s habitation, they lift the bone, or stick, to shoulder height and point it at the victim. The long piece of hair-string, which is attached to the instrument, is tightly tied around the charmer’s arm, above the elbow. This is done to endow his system with the magic influence of the pointing-stick he is holding; and that magic, he believes, passes into the destructive words, which he is uttering: “May your skeleton become saturated with the foulness of my stick, so that your flesh will rot and its stench attract the grubs, which live in the ground, to come and devour it. May your bones turn to water and soak into the sand, so that your spirit may never know your whereabouts. May the wind shrivel your skin like a leaf before a fire, and your blood dry up like the mud in a clay-pan.”

There is a great number of different methods employed in administering the fatal charm of the pointing-stick, all of which, however, are after much the same principle. A common practice amongst the Aluridja is for the man, about to use the stick, to leave the camp and seclude himself behind a tree or other obstacle. He squats upon the heel of one foot which he has tucked under his body. He points the bone or stick straight at the man who is to die, or, it may be, merely in the direction he imagines he would strike him. Whilst administering the curse, he holds the object in the hand of his outstretched right arm.

Both the Arunndta and Aluridja often work in pairs after the following style: One man cowers upon the ground, with or without his pointing-stick in his hand, whilst the second, kneeling at the side of him, holds his pointing-stick at arm’s length over the former man’s back, and directs it towards the person who is about to receive the evil charm. Vide [Plate XXIII].

To make their charm more effective, and the death-penalty more certain, central Australian tribes not uncommonly tie the claws of a bird of prey, the eagle-hawk by preference, to the pointing instrument. It is believed that by this trick the evil magic works like the grip of a bird, by clutching the doomed one’s chest and crushing it. If by accident the unfortunate fellow becomes cognizant of this, and it happens that, as actually is frequently the case after a big feast, he suffers from indigestion, he naturally interprets the symptoms of his indisposition as being due to the invisible, tightening girth, which the charm has laid about him. The fatal termination arrives at a much earlier date in consequence.

A man who discovers that he is being boned by an enemy is, indeed, a pitiable sight. He stands aghast, with his eyes staring at the treacherous pointer, and with his hands lifted as though to ward off the lethal medium, which he imagines is pouring into his body ([Plate XXIV]). His cheeks blanch and his eyes become glassy, and the expression of his face becomes horribly distorted, like that of one stricken with palsy. He attempts to shriek, but usually the sound chokes in his throat, and all one might see is froth at his mouth. His body begins to tremble and the muscles twitch involuntarily. He sways backwards and falls to the ground, and for a short time appears to be in a swoon; but soon after he begins to writhe as if in mortal agony, and, covering his face with his hands, begin to moan. After a while he becomes more composed and crawls to his wurley. From this time onwards he sickens and frets, refusing to eat, and keeping aloof from the daily affairs of the tribe. Unless help is forthcoming in the shape of a counter-charm, administered by the hands of the “Nangarri” or medicine-man, his death is only a matter of a comparatively short time. If the coming of the medicine-man is opportune, he might be saved.

The medicine-man of Australian tribes is not so much an individual who has the knowledge of medicinal values of herbs and of surgical practices as one who is the recognized sorcerer, capable of rebuking the ills wrought by an enemy or evil spirit ([Plate VIII]). He attains his distinction either by heredity or by accidental, but maybe exemplary, craftiness. In the former case, he is looked upon as a favoured son, who has inherited from his tribal and ancestral fathers the magic art of neutralizing the evil charm of a spirit or enemy, which manifests itself in prostration or disease; at the same time he is the official power of the community, who alone can outwit the evil spirit, control the elements, and keep pestilence away from the camp. This hereditary art is recognized as a concrete matter, which is believed to have been deposited within the body of the particular individual by spirit-ancestors or nearer spirit-relations; this matter might have taken the form of a special variety of wood, small bones of animal or man, and a number of sacred stones, all of which the made medicine-man carries about with him in his abdomen, more or less replacing the ordinary entrails originally occupying the cavity. Each tribe has a number of these medicine-men, whose rank is gauged according to age and the principle they have lived up to. For instance, in the qualification of the early medicine-men of the Adelaide tribe, it was deemed necessary that the candidate should taste human flesh at least once is his life. In the central Australian tribes a medicine-man should not eat of kangaroo which has been feeding upon new green grass; if he does, some of his mystic powers will leak out of his body, and he will immediately drop in the estimation of his tribal admirers. If the offence is repeated a number of times, he is disrespected entirely as a professional sorcerer. There are, of course, a great number of restrictions, which the conscientious practitioner observes most punctiliously.

Every medicine-man of any standing at all has his own history of qualification, which he does not hesitate to make known to the public at opportune moments. Old Kai Kai, the leading Nangarri of the western Arunndta on the Finke River, relates how he, as a young hunter, became detached from the rest of the party, and, after tracking a wounded kangaroo for a whole day, he eventually abandoned the pursuit to make for a rock-hole in the stony James Ranges. It was nigh on sunset when he arrived at the hole, tired and thirsty. He threw his wommera and spears upon the ground, and eagerly lay over the cool fluid to still his parching thirst. But when he sipped the water a tadpole entered his mouth, and, before he could spit it out, it slipped down his gullet and dropped into his abdominal cavity with a bump that caused him much pain. When he recovered, he again tried to soothe his burning lips, but met with a similar fate. Several times more he tried, but in vain; as soon as his burning lips touched the surface of the water, a slimy tadpole slipped into his mouth and fell into his stomach with a painful thud. In desperation he made a final attempt to carefully approach the water’s level, when he beheld what he took to be the image of his face and body reflected from below. Horror overcame him, however, for the image was that of another man! And, as he looked again, he noticed that the body of the image was transparent, and inside of it there were just as many rounded pebbles as he had swallowed tadpoles! He collapsed at the side of the waterhole and slept like a dead man, for how long he could not say. When at length he woke up, he found himself among the reeds of the flowing sheet of water on the Finke River, which the white people call Running Waters. He now quenched his thirst. And when the recollections of his experience at the rock-hole came back to him, he realized that the man who had looked at him through the water had been a spirit, and he could still feel the pebbles he had placed inside of him. Now it was obvious to him that he had been ordained a Nangarri, and he returned to his camp, where his relatives were anxiously awaiting him.

Having been called to the side of a “boned” patient, the Nangarri allows a number of the relatives to be present when he applies his weird method of treatment. At first he cuts some ridiculous antics, during which he mumbles or chants some almost inaudible verses. The patient is, in the meantime, laid flat on the ground. The Nangarri approaches the sufferer from the foot end and, throwing himself upon the ground, crawls right on to the chest of the former, biting the skin of his patient at several places as he crawls on to the body. Having “located” the seat of the trouble, the “doctor” slips on to the ground, and, picking up a fold of the skin with the underlying fatty tissue between his fingers over the vital spot, applies his lips, and, perhaps, his teeth, too, to it. He sucks, bites, and kneads the skin, frequently lifting his head and spitting blood on to the ground. The patient is all the while groaning with pain; if he becomes unmanageable, he is called to order by the Nangarri. At length the climax arrives. The Nangarri withdraws from the patient, his cheeks visibly inflated, and, conscious of the expectant eyes of all present, he empties the contents of his mouth into his hands, which he holds like a receptacle in front of him. The fluid, consisting of saliva and blood, is allowed to trickle to the ground or into the fire. Then a triumphant chuckle announces that the malignant element has been discovered! With feigned exaltation, the great healer steps towards the awe-stricken relatives, holding between the index-finger and thumb of his right hand an article, such as a small stick, a bone, a pebble, a meteoric bomb, or a talon, which he avows is the cause of the “boned” man’s affliction, and, having now been skillfully and permanently removed, the unhappy fellow has nothing more to tear.

The good news is immediately conveyed to the prostrate form on the ground. The effect is astounding. The miserable fellow, until that moment well on the road to death, raises his head to gaze in wonderment upon the object held by the Nangarri, which, in all seriousness, he imagines has been extracted from the inside of his body. Satisfied with its reality, he even lifts himself into a sitting position and calls for some water to drink. The crisis has now been passed, and the patient’s recovery is speedy and complete. Without the Nangarri’s interception, the “boned” fellow would have fretted himself to death for a certainty, but the sight of a concrete object, claimed by the recognized authority of the tribe to be the cause of the complaint, signifies recovery to him, and with its removal comes a new lease of life. The implicit faith a native cherishes in the magic powers of his tribal medicine-man results in cures, which exceed anything recorded by the faith-healing disciples of more cultured communities.

CHAPTER XX
WARFARE

Inter-tribal fights and hereditary feuds—Massacres—Preparations for the fray—On the warpath—Teasing the enemy—Hostilities begun—Treatment of wounded and disabled warriors—Hatred soon forgotten—Blood revenge—Boomerang displays—“Kurdaitja” shoes—Recovering the bodies of fallen warriors—Portions of victims bodies eaten.

Aboriginal warfare might be divided into two classes, according to whether it is of the nature of a true and bloody inter-tribal fight, or of a feud arising between two tribal groups or parties. In any case, the hostilities might be of long standing and the enmity might have existed for generations past. The casus belli is as multifarious as are those of modern peoples. It might be on account of a natural treasure held by one tribe, such as a valuable ochre-deposit, which is coveted by another. Or it might be simply the result of an elopement or an abduction as between two groups or families belonging to different tribes. The cause frequently determines the method to be adopted during the fight.

When the arch-foe is to be faced, nothing is out of order in strategy, provided the plan is effective, and, above all things, as gruesome as possible. The main objective to be achieved is to make an assault as murderous as circumstances will permit, and to establish a record massacre, in order that the enemy might be thoroughly cowed and taught to long remember the affair.

In former days such battles were, according to all accounts, of fairly frequent occurrence, but nowadays, no doubt largely due to the interference by European settlers, and the smaller numbers of natives, one very rarely hears that any warfare is conducted on a large scale. Indeed, many of the one-time bitterest enemies, such as the Larrekiya and Ponga Ponga, Arunndta and Aluridja, Kukata and Wongapitcha, can now be seen living in close proximity to each other, and apparently on the best of terms.

Where inherited hatred sways, treachery brews. The aggressors know that the most radical method to extinguish the enemy is to take them unawares, and to slaughter them before they can retaliate. For this purpose it is best to either steal on them in the earliest hours of morning whilst they are sleeping unsuspectingly, or to lie in ambush at a place, like a waterhole, where the enemy is sure to call.

A council of war, consisting of the oldest and most experienced men, is held to discuss the modus operandi at length. Thereupon all eligible men are apprised of the decisions arrived at. Considerable time is devoted to the preparation of spears, sharpening of blades, and straightening of shafts over a fire. Any weak spots, where the spears are likely to break when put to the test in battle, are carefully bound with kangaroo sinew, and the blades or stone-heads re-embedded in porcupine grass resin. Quantities of red ochre are ground and mixed with emu fat, with which the bodies of all warriors are covered. Each man looks to his own spear-thrower, and makes sure that it has not warped or split, and that the handle and hook are secure; a warrior with a defective spear-thrower would be next to useless on the battlefield. The men tie their hair back tightly with human hair-string, and go absolutely nude. The work is all done in a thorough and conscientious way, yet there is every indication of humour about the camp, and nowhere does one see any sign of fear or nervousness on part of either the men who are going to fight, or of their near relatives. There is even an indication of frivolity, with much jabbering and laughter. The women assist assiduously while the preparations are in progress, and add considerably to the entertainment of their heroes, who are about to depart. Even when at length the expedition makes a start, some of the old gins run at the side of the men and keep on joking with the men at the expense of the opponents, roars of laughter every now and then announcing a particularly clever sally from the lips of an old hag barely able to control herself with excitement in her endeavour to incite the men.

Before leaving their camp in a body, all warriors congregate in a circle on parade, holding their weapons balanced in the spear-thrower. Two or three of the old men make a careful scrutiny of the group and their outfit and give final instructions as to how the campaign is to be conducted. Quite occasionally, indeed, a general discussion might take place, at which any suggestions of younger warriors are received and weighed by the seniors, prior to departure. Then the official start is made.

As the little troop advances, the men begin to gesticulate and brandish their weapons, whilst they dance, with their beards poked between their lips and teeth. Occasionally they send forth a loud, piercing yell resembling a war-whoop; then they poise their weapons, at the same time stamping and vibrating their legs, and deriding the enemy with a scurrilous tongue.

If the enemy is to be met in open battle, the place and time of the proposed encounter are arranged beforehand by means of carved wooden missives and special carriers.

Having arrived at the place, and vis-à-vis to the foe, vociferation and antics continue to the verge of hysterical jactitation. One or two of the most daring warriors, before hostilities have actually begun in earnest, rush to the fore, and, placing themselves in front of what might appear the strongest of the opposite party, continue their antics in contempt of them. Thus the patience of the enemy is harassed time after time; and in a similar way the enemy reciprocates.

The moment will, however, arrive when one becomes a little too daring or forward, and, with intention or otherwise, touches the person opposed to himself. The insulted warrior, who has thus been called out, responds with a tremendous roar, and drives straight at his opponent with his spear, using it as a lance.

In an instant the scene is changed. All participants retreat to a respectable distance, about fifty feet or more, towards their respective sides, amidst fearful yelling. The moment they reach the new positions, the air becomes alive with spears, and the fight has commenced in reality.

The throwing and aiming of the projectiles are good, but the ducking and dodging of the selected victims are equally so. During the whole term of the encounter, terrifying bawls are heard, which are emitted by the enraged fighters, and responded to by the excited women in the background. Thus the conflict may last for an hour or two, without a casualty being recorded. When a man is hit, the hideous yelling reaches its climax. The wounded fellow, unless he be mortally hit or falls to the ground unconscious, immediately backs out of the “firing line” under cover of his shield, and seeks shelter behind the warriors, where he is attended by the women, who still the flow of blood with a packing of clay, gum leaves, powdered bird excrement, and grease. Should a spear, or portion of such, still be lodged in the wound, the assistance of an old man will in all probability be called upon to extricate the piece. If, however, the spear-head breaks in the attempted removal, no further operation is undertaken then, and perhaps not until the natural suppurative processes force the fragment near to the surface of the body. The aborigines, although they use a knife freely in the mutilation of their bodies, are not sufficiently skilful as surgeons that they can make an incision into muscle or other tissue to extricate a foreign body, such as a broken spear-head, even if the point is pressing the skin outwards on the side opposite the laceration, and the barbs prevent it being pulled back.

When a man collapses on the spot, as from a mortal wound, a regular tussle ensues, in an endeavour to secure the body, between his friends and foes. The former run considerable risk while they expose their figures to the bombardment of spears; they are, however, covered by others, who come forth to specially shepherd them; often, too, a confused hand-to-hand skirmish follows, during which one or two more are wounded. Should it so happen that a man now falls on the opposite side, a compromise is effected, which permits either side to carry off their wounded in peace. In fact, if the disabled men happen to be of important position or particular valour, the casualty may lead to a permanent armistice.

The aboriginal of Australia does not bear chronic malice towards an ordinary or casual enemy, but soon finds a plausible excuse to throw a damper on his fighting ardour; very frequently, indeed, a bloodthirsty-looking crowd drown their enmity in a combined and convivial festivity, during which the late enemies jest, dance, and sing together. The past is soon forgotten; his revenge appeased, a native immediately reverts to his daily routine and peaceful life. With him revenge is not necessarily individual; the wrong-doing of one tribesman might have to be suffered for by another, maybe innocent, man of the same blood. This blood-revenge, which of course is practised by even the most civilized nations, is often the cause of the death of an innocent white man, who happens to be travelling through the tribal ground, where recently another white man has maltreated or assaulted the natives.

In districts where the boomerang is used, a number of these weapons is carried in the belts of the belligerents. When the parties are within seeing distance of each other, each side begins to throw its boomerangs, making them fly high in the air towards the enemy and return to their respective owner. The demonstration is repeated time after time, as the contending parties draw near to each other, until at length the boomerangs fly well over the opponents’ heads on either side. This is forsooth an awe-inspiring spectacle and has the desired effect of arousing the fighters’ ire to a very high pitch. At a later stage, boomerangs are employed in actual battle.

In place of the boomerang, the club or the waddy is not infrequently carried as an auxiliary weapon, but its use is restricted to fighting at close quarters.

During the various encounters, as here briefly described, shields are generally carried to parry the missiles directed against the bodies of the combatants. In the case of the light reed-spears, however, the wommera alone is used for such purpose. The fighters’ greatest safety is nevertheless in their wonderful skill at dodging the projectiles. In hand to hand fighting, with club or boomerang, the shield is invariably used to considerable advantage.

Whilst undertaking their reconnoitres, the scouts carry slippers, which they wear when it is necessary to hide the individual tracks of their party. These slippers are generally known as “kurdaitja-shoes”; they consist of a thick pad or sole of emu feathers, knitted together with string and clotted blood, and an “upper” of neatly plaited human hair-string. The wearer of such “kurdaitja-shoes” leaves shallow, oval tracks in the sand, which, if seen by any other natives, occasion much alarm, being immediately recognized as those of an enemy on a treacherous mission; if the enemy is not discovered, the tracks are regarded as those of the “Kurdaitja,” an evil spirit about to molest the tribe.

At the conclusion of a battle, it depends entirely upon the terms, under which arms were laid down, as to who appropriates the bodies of any fallen warriors. If friendly relations are established immediately after cessation of hostilities, a mutual exchange is effected, by means of which the relatives might come in possession of the bodies of any warriors who fell. If, on the other hand, the hatred has not abated after the battle, whatever bodies were captured during the affray belong to that party who were fortunate enough to secure them.

The natives, who have been in the meantime joined by the women, retreat towards their main camp, and carry the corpse or corpses of their fallen upon their shoulders to a place decided upon. There elaborate obsequies are instituted. It is, moreover, the custom to cut portions of the soft parts from a dead warrior’s body, whether he be friend or foe, and to eat them. The belief is that by so doing the brave qualities of the departed soldier will be kept among the tribe and will not all be taken away by the spirit when it migrates to the ancestral hunting grounds. The pieces which are most commonly consumed by the mourners (or victors) are the kidney fat and the marrow of the long bones; the Gulf of Carpentaria tribes eat pieces of the muscle and occasionally of the liver. This is another reason why the Australian aborigines are often referred to as cannibals; but the title is unmerited. The native of Australia does not go head-hunting and does not organize expeditions, whose object is to slay people upon whom they can feast. We are not justified in calling him a cannibal; the most we can say of him is that opportunity might make him an occasional man-eater.

CHAPTER XXI
SPEARS

Spears used for four different purposes—Technically two divisions recognized—Descriptions of types.

Spears made by aboriginal Australians serve for four distinct purposes—for fighting, for hunting, for ceremonial, and for recreation, but it would never do to make these the basis of classification.

Technically, however, we recognize two main divisions, into which Australian spears can be made to fall, the one including all spears made out of a single piece of hard wood, the other those constructed of two or more pieces. With very few exceptions, the former are projected by the hand alone, the latter by means of a specially designed spear-thrower.

The simplest type of spear, found everywhere in Australia, consists merely of a long stick, more or less straightened artificially, and roughly pointed at one or both ends. Along the north coast of Western Australia, the Northern Territory, and Queensland alike, the spear is made of light mangrove wood; in central Australia it is of acacia; and in the south it is, or was, of mallee. Vide [Fig. 5], a.

Some of the tribes spend considerable time at straightening these spears. The method in vogue is to place the stick with its curved portion in hot ashes, and, after a while, to bend it over a stone until the right shape is obtained; a little emu fat is often applied to the spot before it is heated.

Fig. 5. Types of spears.

Others devote much attention to the shaping of the spear by scraping and rasping its surface. Exceptionally straight and smoothed mulga spears were made by the Barcoo natives of the Durham Downs district and by the Dieri (b), whilst on the north coast, the Crocker Islanders’ spears are deserving of the same comments; the latter, in addition, are decorated by a few delicate engravings in the form of circumferential rings and wavy longitudinal bands composed of short parallel transverse lines. The Arunndta groove the spears lengthwise with a stone adze.

An improvement on this type is rendered by the cutting of a pointed blade at one end of the spear (c). Some of the best specimens come from the eastern Arunndta in the Arltunga district. The blade is symmetrically cut, sharply edged, and smooth; the remaining portion of the spear is grooved longitudinally throughout its length.

All the above-mentioned types of spear are thrown by hand.

A straight, single-piece, hard-wood spear is made more effective by splicing a barb on to the point with kangaroo or emu sinew (d). The barb being directed away from the point, the spear cannot be withdrawn without forcibly tearing it through the flesh of the animal or man it has entered. The natives living along the Great Australian Bight, from Port Lincoln to King George Sound in Western Australia, used to make this the principal weapon; the spear was up to twelve feet in length, perfectly straight and smooth, and was thrown with a spear-thrower.

A rare and perhaps unique variety was found at Todmorden on the Alberga River in the possession of an Aluridja. It was a simple, one-piece, bladed spear, like that described of the Arltunga natives, but it had two wooden barbs tied against one and the same side of the blade with kangaroo sinew, one above the other, at distances of three and six inches, respectively, from the point.

The hard-wood spears may have the anterior end carved, on one or two sides, into a number of barbs of different shape and size. The simplest and most rudimentary forms were to be met with among the weapons of the practically extinct tribes of the lower reaches of the River Murray, including Lake Alexandria. The shaft was of mallee and by no means always straight and smooth; its anterior end, for a distance of from twelve to eighteen inches, had from five to six medium-sized, thorn-like barbs or spikes, which were directed backwards and cut out of the wood, on one or two sides. More rarely one would find spears with a three-sided serrature, consisting of something like two dozen small barbs, directed backwards, extending in three longitudinal lines over a distance of about fifteen inches; at the top the serrated lines merged into a single strong point. Vide [Fig. 5], e, f, and g.

PLATE XXIV

A “boned” Man, Minning tribe.

“He stands aghast, with his eyes staring at the treacherous pointer, and with his hands lifted as though to ward off the lethal medium....”

The most formidable weapons of this kind are those still in daily use as hunting and fighting spears on Melville and Bathurst Islands (h). The head of this type has many barbs carved on one side, and occasionally on two diametrically opposite sides. There are from ten to thirty barbs pointing backwards, behind which from four to eight short serrations project straight outwards, whilst beyond them again occasionally some six or more small barbs point forwards. The spears have a long, sharp, bladed point. The barbs are symmetrically carved, and each has sharp lateral edges which end in a point. The size of the barbs varies in different specimens. Many of the spears are longitudinally grooved or fluted, either for the whole length or at the head end only. Usually these weapons are becomingly decorated with ochre, and may have a collar of human hair-string wound tightly round the shaft at the base of the head.

Some of the heaviest of these spears are up to sixteen feet long, and would be more fitly described as lances.

The most elaborate, and at the same time most perfect, specimens of the single-piece wooden spears of aboriginal manufacture are the ceremonial pieces of the Melville Islanders. These have a carved head measuring occasionally over four feet in length and four inches in width, consisting of from twelve to twenty-five paired, symmetrical, leaf-shaped or quadrilateral barbs, whose sides display a remarkable parallelism. The barbs are surmounted by a long tapering point emanating from the topmost pair; and very frequently one finds an inverted pair of similar barbs beneath the series just mentioned. Occasionally, too, the two pairs opposed to each other at the bottom are fused into one, and a square hole is cut into the bigger area of wood thus gained on either side of the shaft (i).

The structure may be further complicated by cutting away the point at the top, and separating the paired series of barbs by a narrow vertical cleft down the middle (j).

We shall now turn our attention to spears whose head and shaft are composed of separate parts. In the construction of these, two principal objects are aimed at by the aboriginal, the first being to make the missile travel more accurately through space, and in accordance with the aim, the second to make the point more cruel and deadly. Whereas, with one exception, all the single-piece spears, so far discussed, are projected or wielded with the hand only, in every instance of the multi-pieced spears, a specially designed spear-thrower is used for that purpose.

The native has learned by experience that weight in the forepart of the spear will enable him to throw and aim with greater precision. One has only to watch the children and youths during a sham-fight to realize how well it is known that the heavier end of a toy spear must be directed towards the target whilst the lighter end is held in the hand. Green shoots of many tussocks, or their seed-stalks, and the straight stems of reeds or bullrushes, are mostly used. They are cut or pulled at the root in order that a good butt-end may be obtained, and carefully stripped of leaves; the toy weapons are then ready for throwing. One is taken at a time and its thin end held against the inner side of the point of the right index finger; it is kept in that position with the middle finger and thumb. Raising the spear in a horizontal position, the native extends his arm backwards, and, carefully selecting his mark, shies his weapon with full force at it.

The simplest type of a combination made to satisfy the conditions of an artificially weighted spear is one in which the shaft consists of light wood and the head of heavier wood (k). Roughly speaking, the proportion of light to heavy wood is about half of one to half of the other. The old Adelaide tribe used to select the combination of the light pithy flower-stalk of the grass-tree with a straight pointed stick of mallee. The western coastal tribes of the Northern Territory construct small, and those of the Northern Kimberleys large spears composed of a shaft of reed and a head of mangrove; the former being four or at most five feet long, the latter from ten to twelve. The joint between the two pieces is effected by inserting the heavier wood into the lighter and sealing the union with triodia-grass resin or beeswax. The Adelaide tribe used the gum of the grass-tree.

The River Murray tribes used to make the point of the mallee more effective by attaching to it a blade-like mass of resin, into both edges of which they stuck a longitudinal row of quartz flakes.

The Northern Kimberleys natives accomplish the same object by fixing on to the top end of the mangrove stick a globular mass of warm, soft resin, in which they embed a stone spear-head (l). In certain parts of the Northern Territory one occasionally meets with a similar type of spear, but such in all probability is imported from the west.

The popular spear of central Australian tribes consists of a light shaft fashioned out of a shoot of the wild tecoma bush (T. Australis), which carries a long-bladed head of hard mulga wood. The junction is made between the two pieces by cutting them both on a slope, sticking these surfaces together with hot resin, and securely binding them with kangaroo tendon. The bottom end is similarly bound and a small hole made in its base to receive the point of the spear-thrower (m).

As often as not the blade has a single barb of wood bound tightly against it with tendon.

It is often difficult to find a single piece of tecoma long enough to make a suitable shaft, in which case two pieces are taken and neatly joined somewhere within the lower, and thinner, half with tendon. The shoots, when cut, are always stripped of their bark and straightened in the fire, the surfaces being subsequently trimmed by scraping.

A very common type of spear, especially on the Daly River, and practically all along the coast of the Northern Territory, is one with a long reed-shaft, to which is attached, by means of a mass of wax or gum, a stone-head, consisting of either quartzite or slate, or latterly also of glass. The bottom end is strengthened, to receive the point of the thrower, by winding around it some vegetable fibre (n).

The natives of Arnhem Land now and then replace the stone by a short piece of hard wood of lanceolate shape.

If now we consider the only remaining type—a light reed-shaft, to which is affixed a long head of hard wood, with a number of barbs cut on one or more edges—we find a great variety of designs. The difference lies principally in the number and size of the barbs; in most cases they point backwards, but it is by no means rare to find a certain number of them pointing the opposite way or standing out at right angles to the length of the head. These spears belong principally to the northern tribes of the Northern Territory.

The commonest form is a spear having its head carved into a number of barbs along one side only, and all pointing backwards (o). The number ranges from three to over two dozen, the individual barbs being either short and straight or long and curved, with the exception of the lowest, which in many examples sticks out at right angles just above the point of insertion. The point is always long and tapering. These spears are common to the Larrekiya, Wogait, Wulna, and all Daly River tribes.

PLATE XXV

1. Dieri grave, Lake Eyre district.

2. Yantowannta grave, Innamincka district.

The same pattern of barbs may be found carved symmetrically on the side diametrically opposite, or, indeed, it may be cut in three planes.

An elegant, but rare, type is found among the weapons of the Ponga Ponga, Mulluk Mulluk, and Wogait tribes on the Daly River. Its hard-wood head is long and uniformly tapering from its point of insertion to its sharp tip. On one side there are very many small barbs, diminishing in size from the shaft upwards; as many as one hundred barbs have been counted; they point either slightly backwards or at right angles to the length (p).

A spear in use on the Alligator River, and in the districts south and west therefrom, has the barbs along the edge of the anterior moiety directed backwards, whereas those of the posterior portion point forwards. And occasionally one finds the barbs arranged asymmetrically on two sides of the spear-head.

Finally, a rather remarkable type will be referred to, which belongs to the Arnhem Land tribes, or rather to the country extending from Port Essington to the Roper River, including Groote Island and smaller groups lying off the coast. It is a neat and comparatively small spear, about eight feet long on an average. The head, instead of possessing a number of barbs, has a series of eye-shaped holes cut along one of its sides, which give the impression of being so many unfinished barbs, or so many barbs with their points joined together (q). The major axes of the holes are parallel and directed backwards; there may be up to thirty holes present. Occasionally there are a few real barbs cut near the shaft end of the head; or a number of incomplete barbs may there be cut with their axes turned towards the front of the spear. The point is always sharp and stands back somewhat from the level of the uncut barbs.

For special purposes, like fishing, two or three of the simple-barbed prongs are frequently affixed to a reed shaft with beeswax or resin, and vegetable fibre. This combination is met with all along the coast of the Northern Territory. The natives know very well that the chances of stabbing a fish with a trident of this description are much greater than with a single prong. As a matter of fact, a barbed spear with less than two prongs is not normally used for fishing purposes, yet a plain, single-pronged spear is often utilized when there is none of the other kind available.

The Australian aboriginals do not poison their spears in the ordinary sense of the word, but the Ponga Ponga and Wogait tribes residing on the Daly River employ the vertebræ of large fish, like the barramundi, which have previously been inserted into decaying flesh, usually the putrid carcase of a kangaroo, with the object of making the weapon more deadly. The bones are tied to the head of a fighting spear. This is not a general practice, however, and the spear never leaves the hands of the owner. The natives maintain that by so doing they can kill their enemy “quick fella.”

CHAPTER XXII
SPEAR-THROWERS

Principle of construction—How held—Some of the common types described—Other uses.

To assist in the projection of a spear, the aboriginal has invented a simple apparatus, which is commonly referred to as a spear-thrower or wommera. In principle it is just a straight piece of wood with a haft at one end and a small hook at the other. In practice the hand seizes the haft, the hook is inserted into the small pit at the bottom of the spear, and the shaft is laid along the thrower and held there with two of the fingers of the hand, which is clasping the haft. In this position, the arm is placed well back, the point of the spear steadied or made to vibrate, and, when the native has taken careful aim, the arm is forcibly shot forwards. The missile flies through space, towards its target, but the thrower is retained by the hand.

One of the simplest types was made by the tribes living along the shores of the Great Australian Bight. It consists of a flat piece of wood, about three feet long, roughly fluted lengthwise and slightly sloped off at either extremity. At one end a mass of resin forms a handle, in which, moreover, a quartzite or flint scraper is embedded. At the other end a wooden peg is affixed with resin against the flat surface of the stick. Both surfaces of the implement are flat or slightly convex; at Esperance Bay they are rather nicely polished, the wood selected being a dark-coloured acacia. Towards the east, however, as for instance at Streaky Bay, the inner side, i.e. the one bearing the hook or peg, becomes concave and the outer side convex. On Eyre Peninsula, the old Parnkalla tribe made the spear-thrower shorter but wider, and its section was distinctly concave.

Northwards, through the territories of the Kukata, Arrabonna, Wongapitcha, Aluridja, Arunndta, and Cooper Creek tribes, the shape becomes leaf-shaped and generally of concave section, with a well-shaped haft and broad flint scraper; the peg is attached with resin and sinew. Within this same area, another type is less frequently met with, which is of similar shape, but flat; it is really used more for show purposes, and for that reason is usually decorated with engraved circles and lines, which during some of the ceremonies are further embellished with ochre and coloured down.

The last-named is the prevalent type, which extends westwards as an elongate form through the Murchison district right through to the Warburton River, where it is again broader. In both the areas mentioned, the inner surface of the spear-thrower is deeply incised with series of parallel, angular bands made up of transverse notches. In the south of Western Australia, the shape remains the same, but the incised ornamentation disappears.

Yet another variety comes from the old Narrinyerri tribe and from the lower reaches of the River Murray, where it was known as “taralje.” It is a small, flat, spatulate form, elongated at both ends, the lower (and longer) prolongation making the handle, the upper carrying a point of bone or tooth deeply embedded in resin. The inner side, against which the spear is laid, is flat, the outer surface being convex. The handle is circular in section and is rounded off at the bottom to a blunt point. The convex side is occasionally decorated with a number of pinholes, arranged in a rudely symmetrical pattern.

All through the northern districts of the Northern Territory and the Northern Kimberleys, the principal type is a long light-wood blade, tapering slightly from the handle end to the point and having comparatively flat or slightly convex sides. A handle is shaped by rounding off the ends and cutting away some of the wood symmetrically on each side, a few inches down. A clumsy-looking peg is attached to one of the flat surfaces at the opposite, narrower end with beeswax. The peg is made big on account of the instrument being exclusively used to propel the reed-spears, which are naturally hollow, and consequently have a large opening or pit at the bottom end. This type of thrower is nearly always decorated in an elaborate way with ochre. When used, the thrower and spear are held by the right hand in such a way that the shaft of the latter passes, and is held, between the thumb and index finger, the remaining fingers holding the handle of the thrower. Vide [Plate XIV], 2.

A spear-thrower used exclusively for projecting the small variety of reed-spear is known to the Larrekiya, Wogait, Wordaman, Berringin, and a few other coastal tribes of the Northern Territory. It consists of a rod of hard wood, four feet or so in length, tapering a little towards either end. A lump of resin is attached to one end, and, whilst warm and plastic, is moulded into a blunt point, which fits into the hole at the bottom of the spear. At about five inches from the opposite end, a rim of resin is fixed, and from it a layer, decreasing in thickness, is plastered around the stick to near the extremity. When using this thrower, the hand is placed above the resin-rim, and the shaft of the spear is held by the thumb against the top of the middle finger, without the aid of the index finger. In addition to this, its principal function, the thrower is often used for making fire, the native twirling its lower point against another piece of wood.

A variety of the above type is found in the Gulf of Carpentaria country, on the MacArthur River, which has a tassel of human hair-string tied with vegetable fibre immediately below the rim of resin around the handle.

One of the most remarkable of all spear-throwers is made by the Larrekiya, and other Northern Territory tribes, consisting of a long, leaf-shaped, and very thin, flexible blade, flat on one side and slightly convex on the other. The peg is pear-shaped, and is fixed with vegetable string and beeswax. The handle is thick and cone-shaped, and covered with a thin layer of resin or wax. It is ornamented with rows of small pits, which are pricked into the mass while warm with the point of a fish bone or sharpened stick. The instrument is so thin and fragile that only experienced men dare handle it. At times the blade is curved like a sabre.

In addition to serving as a projecting apparatus, most of the hard-wood spear-throwers with sharp edges are used for producing fire by the rubbing or sawing process; those of concave section also take the place of a small cooleman, in which ochre, down, blood, and other materials are stored during the “making up” period of a ceremony.

Any of the flat types of spear-thrower may be used for making fire by the “sawing process.” The edge of the implement is rubbed briskly across a split piece of soft wood until the red-hot powder produced by the friction kindles some dry grass which was previously packed into the cleft. The spark is then fanned into a flame, as previously referred to ([page 111]).

CHAPTER XXIII
BURIAL AND MOURNING CUSTOMS

Customs depend upon a variety of circumstances—Child burial—Cremation disavowed—Interment—Graves differently marked—Carved tomb-posts of Melville Islanders—Sepulchral sign-posts of Larrekiya—Platform burial—Mummification of corpse—Skeleton eventually buried—Identification of supposed murderer—Pathetic scenes in camp—Self-inflicted mutilations—Weird elegies—Name of deceased never mentioned—Hut of deceased destroyed—Widowhood’s tribulation—Pipe-clay masks and skull-caps—Mutilations—Second Husbands—Collecting and concealing the dead man’s bones—Treatment of skull—Final mourning ceremony.

The burial and mourning ceremonies, if any, attendant upon the death of a person, depend largely upon the tribe, the age, and the social standing or status of the individual concerned. Old people who have become “silly” (i.e. childish), and who in consequence do not take an active part in any of the tribal functions or ceremonies, are never honoured with a big funeral, but are quietly buried in the ground. The reason for this is that the natives believe that the greater share of any personal charms and talents possessed by the senile frame have already migrated to the eternal home of the spirit. As a matter of fact, the old person’s spirit has itself partly quitted the body and whiles for the most time in the great beyond. For precisely the same reason, it often happens that a tribe, when undergoing hardship and privation brought about by drought, necessitating perhaps long marches under the most trying conditions, knocks an old and decrepit person on the head, just as an act of charity in order to spare the lingering soul the tortures, which can be more readily borne by the younger members. These ideas exist all over Australia.

When infants die, they are kept or carried around by the mothers, individual or tribal, for a while in a food-carrier, and then buried without any demonstration. The extinct Adelaide tribes required of the women to carry their dead children about with them on their backs until the bodies were shrivelled up and mummified. The women alone attended to the burial of the child when eventually it was assigned to a tree or the ground.

But at the demise of a person in the prime of his or her life, and of one who has been a recognized power in life, the case is vastly different. Both before and after the “burial” of the corpus, a lengthy ceremony is performed, during which all sorts of painful mutilations are inflicted amongst the bereaved relatives, amidst the accompaniment of weird chants and horribly uncanny wails. Before proceeding with the discussion of the attendant ceremonies, however, we shall give an outline of the different methods adopted in Australia for the disposal of the dead.

Cremation is nowhere practised for the simple reason that the destruction of the bony skeleton would debar the spirit from re-entering a terrestrial existence.

The spirit is regarded as the indestructible, or really immortal, quantity of a man’s existence; and it is intimately associated with the skeleton. The natives tender, as an analogy, the big larva of the Cossus or “witchedy,” which lies buried in the bark of a gum tree. As a result of its ordinary metamorphosis, the moth appears and flies away, leaving the empty shell or, as the natives call it, the “skeleton” of the “dead” grub behind. It is a common belief on the north coast that the spirit of a dead person returns from the sky by means of a shooting star, and when it reaches the earth, it immediately looks around for its old skeleton. For this reason the relatives of a dead man carefully preserve the skeletal remains, carry them around for a while, and finally store them in a cave.

PLATE XXVI

1. Aluridja widow.

2. Yantowannta widow.

Stillborn children are usually burnt in a blazing fire since they are regarded as being possessed of the evil spirit, which was the cause of the death.

The simplest method universally adopted, either alone or in conjunction with other procedures, is interment.

Most of the central tribes, like the Dieri, Aluridja, Yantowannta, Ngameni, Wongapitcha, Kukata, and others, bury their dead, whilst the northern and southern tribes place the corpse upon a platform, which they construct upon the boughs of a tree or upon a special set of upright poles. The Ilyauarra formerly used to practise tree-burial, but nowadays interment is generally in vogue.

A large, oblong hole, from two to five feet deep, is dug in the ground to receive the body, which has previously been wrapped in sheets of bark, skins, or nowadays blankets. Two or three men jump into the hole and take the corpse out of the hands of other men, who are kneeling at the edge of the grave, and carefully lower it in a horizontal position to the bottom of the excavation. The body is made to lie upon the back, and the head is turned to face the camp last occupied by the deceased, or in the direction of the supposed invisible abode of the spirit, which occupied the mortal frame about to be consigned to the earth. The Arunndta quite occasionally place the body in a natural sitting position. The Larrekiya, when burying an aged person, place the body in a recumbent position, usually lying on its right side, with the legs tucked up against the trunk and the head reposing upon the hands, the position reminding one of that of a fœtus in utero.

The body is covered with layers of grass, small sticks, and sheets of bark, when the earth is scraped back into the hole. But very often a small passage is left open at the side of the grave, by means of which the spirit may leave or return to the human shell (i.e. the skeleton) whenever it wishes.

The place of sepulture is marked in a variety of ways. In many cases only a low mound is erected over the spot, which in course of time is washed away and finally leaves a shallow depression.

The early south-eastern (Victorian) and certain central tribes place the personal belongings, such as spear and spear-thrower in the case of a man, and yam-stick and cooleman in the case of a woman, upon the mound, much after the fashion of a modern tombstone. The now fast-vanishing people of the Flinders Ranges clear a space around the mound, and construct a shelter of stones and brushwood at the head end. They cover the corpse with a layer of foliage and branches, over which they place a number of slabs of slate. Finally a mound is erected over the site.

The Adelaide and Encounter Bay tribes built wurleys or brushwood shelters over the mound to serve the spirit of the dead native as a resting place.

In the Mulluk Mulluk, when a man dies outside his own country, he is buried immediately. A circular space of ground is cleared, in the centre of which the grave is dug. After interment, the earth is thrown back into the hole and a mound raised, which is covered with sheets of paper-bark. The bark is kept in place by three or four flexible wands, stuck into the ground at their ends, but closely against the mound, transversely to its length. A number of flat stones are laid along the border of the grave and one or two upon the mound.

In the Northern Kimberleys of Western Australia, when an unauthorized trespasser is killed by the local tribes, the body is placed into a cavity scooped out of an anthill, and covered up. In a few hours, the termites rebuild the defective portion of the hill, and the presence of a corpse is not suspected by an avenging party, even though it be close on the heels of the murderers.

The Dieri, in the Lake Eyre district of central Australia, dispense with the mound, but in its place they lay a number of heavy saplings longitudinally across the grave. Their eastern neighbours, the Yantowannta, expand this method by piling up an exceptionally large mound, which they cover with a stout meshwork of stakes, branches, and brushwood lying closely against the earth ([Plate XXV], 1 and 2).

One of the most elaborate methods is that in vogue on Melville and Bathurst Islands. The ground immediately encompassing the grave is cleared, for a radius of half a chain or more, and quantities of clean soil thrown upon it to elevate the space as a whole. The surface is then sprinkled with ashes and shell debris. The mound stands in the centre of this space, and is surrounded by a number of artistically decorated posts of hard and heavy wood, or occasionally of a lighter fibrous variety resembling that of a palm. Each of the posts bears a distinctive design drawn in ochre upon it; several of the series in addition have the top end carved into simple or complicated knobs; occasionally a square hole is cut right through the post, about a foot from the top, leaving only a small, vertical strip of wood at each side to support the knob ([Fig. 14]). The designs are drawn in red, yellow, white, and black, and represent human, animal, emblematical, and nondescript forms.

The Larrekiya erect a sort of sign-post, at some distance from the grave, consisting of an upright pole, to the top of which a bundle of grass is fixed. A cross-piece is tied beneath the grass, which projects unequally at the sides and carries an additional bundle at each extremity. The structure resembles a scarecrow with outstretched arms, the longer of which has a small rod inserted into the bundle of grass to indicate the direction of the grave. Suspended from the other arm, a few feathers or light pieces of bark are allowed to sway in the wind and thus serve to attract the attention of any passers-by.

When the body is to be placed upon a platform, it is carried, at the conclusion of the preliminary mourning ceremonies, shoulder high by the bereaved relatives to the place previously prepared for the reception of the corpse. A couple of the men climb upon the platform and take charge of the body, which is handed to them by those remaining below. They carefully place it in position, and lay a few branches over it, after which they again descend to join the mourners. The platform is constructed of boughs and bark, which are spread between the forks of a tree or upon specially erected pillars of wood.

The Adelaide tribe used to tie the bodies of the dead into a sitting position, with the legs and arms drawn up closely against the chest, and in that position kept them in the scorching sun until the tissues were thoroughly dried around the skeleton; then the mummy was placed in the branches of a tree, usually a casuarina or a ti-tree. Along the reaches of the River Murray near its mouth, the mummification of the corpse was accelerated by placing it upon a platform and smoking it from a big fire, which was kept burning underneath; all orifices in the body were previously closed up. When the epidermis peeled off, the whole surface of the corpse was thickly bedaubed with a mixture of red ochre and grease, which had the consistency of an ordinary oil-paint. A similar mummification process is adopted by certain of the coastal tribes of north-eastern Queensland.

The Larrekiya, Wogait, and other northern tribes smear red ochre all over the surface of the corpse, prior to placing it aloft, in much the same manner as they do when going to battle. The mourners, moreover, rub some of the deceased’s fat over their bodies. When eventually all the soft parts have been removed from the skeleton by birds of prey, and by natural processes of decomposition, the relatives take the radius from the left arm, which they carry away with them. The remaining bones are collected and wrapped up in paperbark, and the parcel buried.

PLATE XXVII

Tooth-rapping ceremony, Wongapitcha tribe.

“The novice lies on his back and rests his head against the operator’s thighs, while a number of men sit around in a semi-circle.” The operator is seen in the act of applying the rod with his right hand, while he is striking it with a pebble held in the opposite hand.

In the Northern Kimberleys of Western Australia, the relatives wait until the body has so far decomposed that it begins to drip, at which stage they place a number of pebbles or other articles either in a row or in a circle underneath the platform. Each pebble represents a person who is considered as a likely cause of the death they are bemoaning. Periodical inspections are made of the place, and notice is taken of the drops which have fallen from the corpse. Should it so happen that the wind has blown them in the direction of any one particular stone, which has thereby been moistened, the person represented by that pebble is looked upon as the one responsible for the fellow’s death; a resolution is forthwith carried to “bone” him to death. At the same time the visitors keep a vigilant lookout for any tracks near the grave, which might inform them of the presence of a spirit nearby. Like the Northern Territory tribes they, too, later collect the bones of the deceased and wrap them up in paperbark. These parcels, together with the skull, are deposited in the crevices of rocks outcropping within their haunts, or they are stuck away in a cave, if such be available.

Great is the hullabaloo in a camp when a person of importance breathes his last. Moans and deep sobbing notes are followed by loud yells and spasms of barbarous shrieks, which it is difficult to believe are human; and the yelping hordes of dogs, which are found in every camp, in no small way intensify the din. After a while the pandemonium settles down to a more orderly wailing, although every now and then there might be a spontaneous outburst of the heart-rending yelling again, which can only be likened to a long-drawn canine or, more nearly, a dingo-like howl. The note is taken up by all members of the little community; and the moment the noise is heard by anybody strolling or hunting in the environment he, without deliberation, hastens back to camp to join in the wailing. The men sit with their knees drawn up and their arms thrown around them, covering their faces whilst they are sobbing. The women throw themselves upon the ground, or over the body of the departed, in utter despair; they are later joined by the men. Every now and then the lubras rise, and, seizing a sharp stick with both their hands, they cut deep gashes into the crown of their heads. Then, as the blood pours down over their faces and bodies, the wailing is accentuated with additional vehemence. At times some terrible wounds are inflicted during this part of the obsequies. The widow often cuts a long, median gash right along the scalp. The men, on the other hand, flourish their big stone knives, with which they hack their bodies in a revolting manner. In the Katherine River district, the nearest relatives on the male side not infrequently cut their thighs in such a way that almost the entire mass of muscles on the extensor side is severed, and the man makes himself hors de combat. A general mêlée now ensues, during which women deface themselves and each other without restraint, the places of predilection being the head and back. Each mourner submits to the mutilation voluntarily and without flinching. The women, too, make free use of their nulla-nullas, with which they crack each other over the head. But a short while after they will seat themselves in groups about the body, with their arms tenderly thrown around each other, crying bitterly.

Repeatedly I have been present when sad or distressing news has unexpectedly come to hand, or when one of the tribe meets with a painful accident which may be considered fatal, and have noticed with what amount of undisguised sympathy such are received on the part of the women-folk. On one occasion I remember a young gin falling from a high cliff on the Finke River and sustaining a concussion of the brain. As she lay unconscious on the ground, all other women present at the time tore out great quantities of hair from their scalps, and then threw themselves into some spiny tussocks of porcupine grass which grew close-by. The poisonous sting of the porcupine grass is very painful, even when only one enters the skin; but the agony produced by a large number piercing the naked body must be excruciating.

The Larrekiya men lacerate their upper arms and thighs with stone knives, and cut their foreheads with the embedded flints of any handy implements. Both men and women cover their naked bodies with ashes and pipeclay, and, after the preliminary uproar has calmed down somewhat, the females start a doleful chant which sounds something like: “Nge-e-u, hö-hö-un-un.” To this the men respond with long-drawn monotones resembling: “He-e-ö, he-e-ö, he-e-ö,” the “n” and “un” above, and the “ö” below, sounding like sobs.

The chanting is kept up all the time the corpse is “lying in state,” if one be permitted to make use of this phrase in connection with a primitive burial ceremony. Even whilst the body is being conveyed upon the shoulders of the aboriginal pall-bearers, the wailing continues in a systematic manner.

I remember once attending a native funeral at Brocks’ Creek in the Northern Territory, when a gin had died who came from a far-distant tribe beyond the Victoria River. Being a stranger, the local tribal honours could not be bestowed upon her remains, but the local natives, who volunteered to bury her, could not let the opportunity pass without singing in a mournful strain as they carried her to rest. The gin’s dialect was unknown, and the local tribe had been in the habit of conversing with her in ordinary “pidgin English.” Consequently they concocted a little refrain of their own to suit the occasion. It ran “Poor beggar Jinny, him bin die,” and was rendered in a sing-song style, like a decimal repeater, throughout the ceremony.

Everywhere in Australia it is the custom among the indigenous people never to mention the name of the person whose death is being lamented. This rule is so far-reaching that should there be more than one tribesman holding the same name, the one surviving his namesake immediately changes his appellation. If, too, the name of the dead one happened to be that of an animal or place, a new word is immediately introduced in the vocabulary of the tribe in place of the former. Thus allusion to the dead man’s name is entirely avoided. The reason for this strange custom is that the tribespeople want the spirit of the departed not to be molested; by calling aloud the name of one who has gone beyond, the spirit might be persuaded to come back and haunt the camp; the natives are in constant dread of this. On the other hand, by not addressing the spirit, there is no reason for it to leave the happy ancestral grounds, in which it can consort with all its kin long-departed.

For much the same reason, the hut or wurley of the dead person is immediately destroyed by the relatives of the dead man; if the habitation is allowed to stand, the spirit of the dead will endeavour to come back and occupy it. The natives would be continually encountering the ghost, if not actually then certainly in their imagination, and the fear of such a possibility would make their existence intolerable. Most of the tribes, moreover, so soon as they have destroyed the dead man’s wurley, instantly leave the district and select another camping site, well removed from the latter. The only exception to this general rule is the Adelaide tribe who, as previously mentioned, used to build a special bark hut over the grave for the spirit to dwell in.

The person who fares worst is a widow. To begin with, she is required to absent herself and live apart from the rest of the people in a small humpy of her own; and she is not allowed to eat anything during the term of the mourning ceremonies. Quite apart from the general avoidance of mentioning the deceased’s name, a widow is positively forbidden to speak to anyone for a term of from a week or two to several months. During all that time, she must observe the strictest rules of tribal mourning; for, if she does not, the spirit will see that her late husband’s memory is not sufficiently revered, and it will starve the woman to death.

Directly after the death of her husband, a Yantowannta woman must cut off her hair, short to the scalp, and burn it. In its place, she applies a thick coating of pipeclay paste, which is periodically added to if there be a tendency for it to crumble away. In addition, she covers most of her face with a similar paste which adheres to the skin like a mask. Vide [Plate XXVI], 2.

The early Murray River tribes made a skull-cap of burned gypsum or lime, about three inches thick, which the widows had to wear during the term of mourning. These encumbrances weighed up to sixteen pounds. The hair was generally removed previously by singeing it with hot ashes.

In addition the relict has to regularly cover her body and face with white ashes. In the Daly Waters district, whenever she pays a visit to her late husband’s burial place, she will submit herself to the agony of re-opening the wound in her scalp, until it bleeds profusely, to prove how deep her sorrow is.

The Aluridja widows do not cut their hair short, but smear pipe-clay paste and ashes thickly over the scalp, intimately mixing it with the woolly growth. Often the hair is worked up into a large number of locks or strands, round which the white paste is moulded in such a way that the head is surrounded by an array of pendant, cylindrical masses resembling so many candles ([Plate XXVI], 1).

A woman, upon the decease of her husband, becomes the property of her late partner’s brother; if there are more than one brother surviving, she falls to the senior among them. In the case of no brothers remaining or existing, she is claimed by the dead husband’s nearest (male) tribal relative. The law prevails practically all over the Southern Continent. It is not until she is actually received by her new husband that the woman is permitted to speak to anyone. This usually ends the first period of mourning, so far as the gin is concerned, and she returns to live with the others in the main camp; but in most cases she will continue to smear pipe-clay over her scalp for some time longer.

An Arunndta woman who survives three tribal husbands is not required by law to marry again, and she is, consequently, left unmolested.

The second period of public mourning is a comparatively short one; it is begun by collecting the dead man’s bones from the tree or platform. In nearly every case the bulk of the bones are packed in sheets of paperbark and hidden or buried. In the north-central and north-western districts, the parcels are either hidden in a cave, buried in an anthill, or stuck into the fork of a dead tree. The cranium is often smashed to pieces or the facial skeleton broken away from the skull-roof. In the old Narrinyerri and certain tribes of the Adelaide plains the calvarium was used as a drinking vessel; a handle was attached by fastening a piece of strong fur-string to the occiput through the foramen magnum, on the one side, and to the frontal portion, after breaking a passage through the orbital cavities, on the other. Many tribes besmear the skulls with red ochre before assigning them to their last resting place. In the Northern Kimberleys some of the sepulchral caves are so crowded with skulls, arranged in perfect order, that one is reminded of the classical catacombs.

The women are not present when the bones are collected, but, remaining in camp, they start to wail afresh, and even resort to further mutilating the body. When the men return, carrying with them the radius of the dead man, a ceremony is conducted, in which both sexes participate. The women, including the widow, now discard the white cover of pipe-clay and ashes; and in its place they decorate their bodies with red and yellow ochre, and occasionally with charcoal. These colours are applied in vertical bands or lines over the chest and back; whilst across the shoulders there are usually a few horizontal lines. The men have more elaborate designs worked over their chests and backs with ochre and kaolin. After the ceremony is over, the radius is either buried or claimed by the deceased’s brother, who uses it as a pointing-bone, it playing a particularly important role during any expedition, which may be undertaken against the tribe suspected of foul play in connection with his relative’s death.

CHAPTER XXIV
TRIBAL ORGANIZATIONS

Psychological trend of thought—Primitive and modern systems of nomenclature compared—Multiplicity of Names—Their derivation—Connection with marriage systems—Family crests—“Kobongism” and “Totemism”—Group relationships—Infant betrothals—Business-like courtship—Position of wife—Elopements—Tribal profligates—True wifehood—Hospitable licentiousness—Mutual exchanges of wives.

It is difficult for an European living in the twentieth century to train his mind into the way of thinking like an aboriginal. To require of a person to do so would be like asking his reasoning to slip back through the long ages of progress and mental development, which are primarily responsible for his now being able to hold a foremost position amongst his fellow creatures. The convenience of modern achievements so transcends the awkwardness of primal ways that we might as well suggest to him that the better way of meeting an absent friend would be to walk to a spot he was last seen at, than to catch an electric train bound for the city and despatch a message from the nearest telegraph office to ensure the meeting. The first method would be the primitive, the second the up-to-date. On the other hand, our present systems are satisfied to ascertain a man’s individual identity—his Christian and surnames—but to bother little about anything else. Some of our best families certainly pride themselves upon their ancestral history, and honour the crest which once ranked prominently in the social world, but the general tendency, especially of a democratic world, is to meet this sentiment with a satirical sneer. In consequence, our national history is sacrificing much of its constituent, individual charm, and our nomenclature, so far as any original class-systems are concerned, is daily becoming more meagre and commonplace. Nowadays a Smith is simply a Smith, good or bad, with or without genealogical traditions and records. And this is the point we are leading up to, which is so very different with the aboriginal. His vocabulary bristles with a nomenclature so full of ancestral derivations and traditional origins that a single word combines at once identity with genealogy; the English language does not contain a single word which could convey the same amount of meaning; a number are required to explain the sense. There is no such person as a simple Smith among the aborigines; Smiths there might be, but each is separately described and qualified by his appellation; each person carries his crest, if not his pedigree, embodied in his name. Everybody can understand the significance of the name the moment he hears it; and this understanding is very far-reaching, and as potent as the bonds of freemasonry.

Every individual has a number of names, some of which are never publicly used, but are only known to members of the tribe who stand in very close relationship to him. The names are really more expressions of degree, rank, maturity, and division, rather than personal appellations or addresses. All elders who have officiated during the term of initiation of a novice, or who have instructed or tended a child prior to its attaining its independence, automatically assume a name or title, which, within a restricted circle, explains the social standing of the particular individual.

Then there are factious names, of a religious or sacred character, each of which directly relates to the accepted affinity existing between a living person and an ancestral spirit of semi-human origin. These names are kept very secret, but are embodied in the carved “tjuringas,” which are only exposed to a limited number of persons upon rare occasions, and then very temporarily.

The names which are most commonly applied to individuals are, in reality, pet or nicknames. A special characteristic, a likeness, a scar, or an abnormity is immediately seized upon as a mark of distinction to embody in the individual’s name. Countless examples could be mentioned to illustrate this point. For instance, a man of the Minning tribe at Eucla is called “Jinnabukarre” (Lumpy-foot), an old Arunndta man is known as “Ulgna-bong” (Blind-eye), and a Wongapitcha man as “Jinna-Kularrikna” (Stink-foot). The name I generally travel under amongst the Arunndta is “Atutannya” (Big Man), having been thus christened by them on account of my bodily height. Again, circumstances at birth or any presumed causes of conception often determine the name of the offspring. “Unndulia,” meaning a “shadow,” is both the name of a place with a legend, situated in the MacDonnell Ranges, and of a girl, who is supposed to have entered her mother’s womb there. Many people have names of animals and birds, with which they have some sort of mystic relationship and legendary connections; in the Arunndta such names as “Illiya” (Emu), “Utnguringita” (Witchedy Grub), “Irridja” (Eaglehawk), “Ladjia” (Yam), and the like are daily met with.

Names are frequently compounded, the resulting word embodying locality, peculiarity, ancestry, animal-relationship, and division all in one. As a person grows older his name usually becomes longer, and in a limited sense recounts his biography. There is apparently no limitation to the length of a name, but the whole word is rarely spoken; yet each possessor of a long name commits it well to memory. The longest personal appellation, which has come before our notice, is that of a very aged woman of the Dieri tribe; expressed phonetically it ran: “Yangingurrekupulapaiawattimakantana.”

The intricate and elaborate systems of nomenclature are closely connected with their marriage laws and secret rites. With a few exceptions, these are much the same all over Australia. So far as their marriage systems are concerned, each tribe may be primarily split into two great divisions, between which unions take place; but among members of one and the same division such are forbidden under penalty of death.

Each moiety is further separated into sub-divisions or groups, which are distinguished by a symbol related to a family-crest. The symbol is representative of a natural object, such as animal, bird, or plant, between which and the individual a mysterious relationship is believed to endure. This peculiar belief was first reported to exist among the Australian aborigines by Sir George Grey in 1841, who ascertained that the general name of the mysterious symbol with which an individual identifies himself, was “kobong.” Of later years the word has been replaced in works on Australian anthropology by “totem.” No doubt “Kobongism” and “Totemism” are closely allied conceptions of crude religious significance; but at the same time the “totem” belongs originally to the American Indian, and it is still an open question whether the imported word completely and adequately embraces all fundamental conceptions of the “kobong.”

Among the central tribes the mystical relationship between the present individual and the object (animal or plant) is believed to come through sacred semi-human ancestors which were common to both; the relationship has been handed down from one generation to another. See further, [Chapter XXVII].

Each divisional group has a number of such “kobongs” or “totems,” which practically control their marriage-systems. Descent in a family is always reckoned from the mother’s side, at any rate so far as the majority of tribes is concerned. To take a simple example: A tribe is composed, say, entirely of families named Jones and Smith. A Smith is only allowed to marry a Jones, and a Jones a Smith. But, in addition, each individual member of the two groups of families named has a separate crest or symbol, such as, for instance, the cat, the dog, the fowl, the rose. A further restriction is that no two members of the same crest are allowed to join in matrimony, so that no Cat-Jones can marry a Cat-Smith, nor a Dog-Smith a Dog-Jones, because they are “related.” But a Cat-Jones may marry a Dog-, a Fowl-, or a Rose-Smith, and vice versa, without breaking the law. We will find that there are twelve different combinations possible between the Jones and Smiths of the four crests specified. If there be an issue of the marriage, we have heard that the descent always follows the mother’s side, both as regards family and crest. Consequently, if a Mr. Cat-Jones marries a Miss Dog-Smith, the child will be a Dog-Smith; but should the Dog-Smith children again marry into the Cat-Jones’ family-group, the offspring becomes a Cat-Jones if the child be a boy, but remains a Dog-Smith if a girl.

The north-west central tribes split up each moiety into two sub-divisions, between which marriages can take place, but the progeny always goes to the division different from that of its parents. Let us represent the two pairs of subdivision by A and B, and C and D respectively. A man of the A group is only allowed to marry a woman of the B group, and a B-man only an A-woman. The child resulting from the former union becomes a member of neither of its parents’ groups, but passes over to C, and when one from the latter, that is, when the father is a B-man, becomes a D-member. On the other side, when a C-man marries a D-woman, the issue returns to the A line, and when a D-man marries a C-woman, it goes back to the B. If, for instance, we replace the letters A, B, C, and D by the words “Pultara,” “Kumara,” “Panunga,” and “Purula,” in the order specified, we have the general principle of the Arunndta marriage system.

Among the Minning, the four subdivisions are called “Tjurrega,” “Menuaitja,” “Kakera,” and “Ngadeja.” Let us take a simple illustration. A Tjurrega man marries a Menuaitja woman. A male child is born, which becomes a Kakera. When he grows up, this Kakera man must marry a Ngadeja woman. The progeny of the last-named union goes back to the Tjurrega, and, assuming it to be a female, she will have to marry a Menuaitja, and her child becomes a Ngadeja.

A few tribes of central and north-eastern Australia further divide each sub-class into two, making eight in all, but fundamentally the rules governing inter-marriage are much the same as those just mentioned.

It must not be imagined for one moment that the above simple outline represents the complete, and, in reality, very complicated, system upon which the aborigines work. There are numerous others restrictions, which are more or less variable according to the locality of any particular tribe. In its broadest outline, the scheme is much the same all over Australia, and it is possible therefore for tribes living on a friendly footing with each other to inter-marry and yet to strictly adhere to the fundamental principles controlling their respective laws. On the other hand, it will be realized how easily any white man, who is in the habit of having indiscriminate intercourse with native women, can make himself guilty of a criminal offence, when he cohabits first with a woman of one group and then with one of another. This applies, of course, only to the uncorrupted tribes, who still adhere strictly to their ancestral practices and beliefs.

Occasionally one finds a further splitting up of the intermarrying divisions, whilst some of the south-eastern tribes appear to have been without any hard and fast system at all. Here and there, too, the descent runs in the male line.

A child is generally allotted to its husband early in infancy, but actual possession is not taken until the girl is of a marriageable age, that is, when she is about twelve years old. In the interim, however, the future husband has certain claims on the child, and can supervise her domestication and instruction. He, on the other hand, is required to make presentations to the child’s father and other relatives on the father’s side; at this stage, too, he may promise his sister (if she be available) to his future wife’s brother.

The relationship between man and girl is not a love-affair, in the modern sense of the word, but the whole transaction is regarded more like a pure business-matter. The sexual element plays perhaps the least important role, the man looking upon the budding woman as his future associate, helpmate and servant, and also as a valuable asset to his existence wherewith he might be able to barter. Most of his notions in connection with barter are potential, and possibly will never be carried out; in a sense a man’s wealth is gauged by the number of women he possesses, the younger they are the more valuable. As a lord of the wilds, it is, indeed, a fortunate position for any man to be in to own a number of wives; having himself, as a hunter, to travel unaccoutred, the women become the machinery of his transport. When in camp, they collect and prepare food for him, while he is resting or roaming the woods after game. Moreover, the women assist in the cosmetics of his person, and are the means of the education of his children in all matters, except those pertaining to the chase, warfare, and certain ceremonies taboo to women.