The Australian aboriginal

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.

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).

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.

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.

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.