MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE NATIVES — DRESS AND ORNAMENTS OF NORTHERN AUSTRALIA — MODE OF DRESSING THE HAIR — THE “DIBBI-DIBBI” — TATTOOING AND CICATRIZING — PATTERN OF THE SCARS — SIGNIFICATION OF THE VARIOUS PATTERNS — POMP AND VANITY — THE NOSE-BONE — NECKLACES — THE GIRDLE AND TASSEL — TATTOOS AND SCARS AMONG THE WOMEN — THE TURTLE SCAR — HIGH SHOULDERS OF THE AUSTRALIANS — INDIFFERENCE TO DRESS — THEIR FUR MANTLES, AND THEIR USES — THE SEA-GRASS MANTLE — FOOD OF THE AUSTRALIANS — VEGETABLE FOOD — MODE OF PROCURING ROOTS — THE BIYU — THE NARDOO PLANT AND ITS USES — THE “BURKE AND WILLS” EXPEDITION — THE BULRUSH ROOT, ITS USE FOR FOOD AND ROPE MAKING — SUBTERRANEAN WATER STORES — MOLLUSCS, AND MODE OF COLLECTING THEM — HARD WORK FOR THE WOMEN — DIVING FROM THE RAFT — RELAXATION WHEN THEY RETURN HOME — COOKING THE MOLLUSCS AND CRUSTACEA — FISH CATCHING WITH LINE, NET, AND SPEAR — INSECT FOOD — THE BEE CATCHERS — TREE AND EARTH GRUBS, AND MODE OF CATCHING THEM — THE PILEYAH — THE DUGONG — ITS LOCALITIES, AND MODES OF TAKING AND COOKING IT — CAPTURING AND COOKING THE GREEN TURTLE — CURIOUS USE OF THE SUCKING FISH — TAMING THE TURTLE — THE HAWKSBILL TURTLE, AND MODE OF CATCHING IT — TURTLE OIL AND DRIED FLESH — SALE OF TORTOISE-SHELL — TWO FORMS OF AUSTRALIAN OVENS — COOKING AND EATING SNAKES — CATCHING THE SNAKE ALIVE — THE CLOAK AND THE SHIELD — THE DUGONG, AND ITS CAPTURE — SMALL TENACITY OF LIFE — A SAVORY FEAST.

We will now proceed to the various manners and customs of the Australians, not separating them into the arbitrary and fluctuating distinctions of tribes, but describing as briefly as is consistent with justice, the most interesting of their habits, and mentioning those cases where any particular custom seems to be confined to any one tribe or district.

We have in the illustration No. 1, on page 707, a good example of a native of North Western Australia. The sketch was kindly made by Mr. T. Baines. A profile of the man is given, in order to show the peculiar contour of the face, which, as the reader may see, has nothing of the negro character about it; the boldly prominent nose, the full beard, and the long hair fastened up in a top-knot being the distinguishing features. The man carries in his belt his provisions for the day, namely, a snake and one of the little kangaroo-rats, and having these he knows no care, though of course he would prefer larger game.

Round his neck may be seen a string. This supports an ornament which hangs upon his breast. Several forms of this ornament, which is called in the duplicative Australian language a “dibbi-dibbi,” are employed, and there are in my collection two beautiful specimens made from the shell of the pearl-oyster. The ordinary dibbi-dibbi is fan-shaped, and does not depart very much from the original outline of the shell. There is, however, one kind of dibbi-dibbi which is valued exceedingly, and which is shaped like a crescent. The specimen in my possession is almost as large as a cheese plate, and must have been cut from an enormous shell, economy, whether of material or time, not being understood by these savages. Owing to the shape of the shell, it is slightly convex, and was worn with the concave side next the body.

Not being satisfied with the natural smooth polish of the nacre, the native has ornamented the dibbi-dibbi with a simple but tolerably effective pattern. Along the margin of the scooped edge he has bored two parallel rows of small and shallow holes about half an inch apart, and on either side of each row he has cut a narrow line. From the outer line he has drawn a series of scalloped patterns made in a similar fashion; and, simple as this pattern is, its effect is really remarkable. The man has evidently begun a more elaborate pattern on the broad surface of the shell, but his mind seems to have misgiven him, and he has abandoned it. The cord by which it is suspended round the neck is nearly an inch wide, and is made of string and a sort of rattan plaited together.

On the shoulder of the man may be seen a number of raised marks. These are the scars of wounds with which the Australians are in the habit of adorning their bodies, and which they sometimes wear in great profusion. The marks are made by cutting deeply into the skin, and filling the wounds with clay and other substances, so that when the wound heals an elevated scar is made. These scars are made in patterns which partly differ according to the taste of the individual, and partly signifying the district to which the tattooed person belongs. For example, the scars as shown in the illustration are the mark of a Northern Australian; and, although he may have plenty other scars on his body and limbs, these will always appear on his shoulder as the distinguishing mark of his tribe.

In my photographs, which represent natives from various parts of the continent, these scars are very prominent, and there is not an individual who does not possess them. Some have them running longitudinally down the upper arm, while others have them alternately longitudinal and transverse. They occasionally appear on the breast, and an old man, remarkable for the quantity of hair which covered his breast and arms, has disposed them in a fan shape, spreading from the centre of the body to the arms. He has evidently spent a vast amount of time on this adornment, and suffered considerable pain, as scars, although not so large as in many other instances, are exceedingly numerous; the man has adorned his arms and shoulders with little scars of the same character arranged in regular lines.

In some parts of Australia the scars assume a much more formidable appearance, being long and heavy ridges. One chief, who was very proud of his adornments,—as well he might be, seeing that their possession must nearly have cost him his life,—was entirely covered from his neck to his knees with scars at least an inch broad, set closely together, and covering the whole of the body. The front of the chest and stomach was adorned with two rows of these scars, each scar being curved, and reaching from the side to the centre of the body, where they met. The man was so inordinately proud of this ornament that nothing could induce him to wear clothing of any kind, and he stalked about in his grandeur, wearing nothing but his weapons. The photograph of this man has a very singular aspect, the light falling on the polished ridge of the scars having an effect as if he were clad in a suit of some strange armor.

By way of adding to the beauty of their countenances, they are in the habit of perforating the septum of the nose, and of thrusting through it a piece of bone or stick, the former being preferred on account of its whiteness. It is almost impossible to describe the exceedingly grotesque appearance presented by an Australian dandy, who has his body covered with scars, and his face crossed by a wide piece of bone some six inches in length, making his naturally broad nose wider, and seeming as it were to cut his face in half. The hole through which this ornament is thrust is made when a child is a fortnight old.

As to other ornaments, they consist of the usual necklaces, bracelets, and anklets which are common to savage tribes in all parts of the world. Some of these necklaces which are in my collection are really pretty, and some skill is shown in their manufacture. One is made of pieces of yellow reed as thick as quills and almost an inch in length, strung alternately with scarlet reeds; another is made entirely of the same reeds, while a third is, in my opinion, the handsomest, though not the most striking of them. At first sight it appears to be made entirely of the reeds already mentioned, but on a closer examination it is seen to be composed entirely of the antennæ of lobsters, cut into short lengths and strung together. To the necklaces is attached a small mother-of-pearl dibbi-dibbi four inches long and one inch wide, and the pieces of lobster antennæ are so disposed that the thinner parts of the antennæ, taken from the extremities, come next to the dibbi-dibbi and hang on the breast, while the larger and thicker parts, taken from the base of the antennæ, come on the neck. The native basket in which these necklaces were kept is more than half filled with bright colored seeds of various hues, that are evidently intended for the manufacture of necklaces.

Girdles of finely twisted human hair are often worn by the men, and the native who is represented in the engraving No. 1, on page 707, is wearing one of these girdles. Sometimes, as in the present instance, a small tassel made of the hair of a phalangist or “flying-squirrel,” as it is wrongly termed, is hung to the front of the girdle, by no means as a covering, but as an ornament.

The scars are so highly valued that the women wear them nearly as profusely as the men. In my photographs, there are portraits of many women of all ages, not one of whom is without scars. They do not wear them so large as the men, but seem to be more careful in the regularity of the pattern.

Taking a series of three women, the first has three cuts on the shoulder showing her northern extraction, and a row of small horizontal and parallel scars along the front of the body from the breast-bone downward. The second, in addition to the shoulder cuts, has several rows of scars extending from the breast to the collar-bones, together with a central line as already described, and some similar rows of cuts on the ribs and sides. The third woman, a mere girl of fourteen or so, has been very careful in the arrangement of the scars, which descend in regular and parallel rows from the breast downward, and then radiate fan-wise in six rows from the breast upward to the collar bones.

Mr. M’Gillivray, who accompanied H. M. S. Rattlesnake in her voyage, writes as follows concerning the scar ornaments and their uses:—“The Torres Straits islanders are distinguished by a large complicated oval scar, only slightly raised, and of neat construction. This, which I have been told has some connection with a turtle, occupies the right shoulder, and is occasionally repeated on the left. (See engraving at foot of page 722.) At Cape York, however, the cicatrices were so varied that I could not connect any particular style with an individual tribe. At the same time, something like uniformity was noticed among the Katchialaigas, nearly all of whom had, in addition to the horned breast mark, two or three long transverse scars on the chest, which the other tribes did not possess.

“In the remaining people the variety of marking was such that it appeared fair to consider it as being regulated more by individual caprice than by any fixed custom. Many had a simple two-horned mark on each breast, and we sometimes saw upon them a clumsy imitation of the elaborate shoulder mark of the islanders.”

Well-shaped as are these women, they have one defect in form, namely, the high and square shoulder, which detracts so much from feminine beauty, and which is equally conspicuous in the child of six, the girl of thirteen or fourteen, and the old woman. The men also exhibit the same defective form.

The reader will have noticed the elaborate manner in which the hair of the Australian savage is sometimes dressed. The style of hair-dressing varies with the locality, and often with the time, fashion having as absolute a reign among the native Australians, and being quite as capricious, as among ourselves. Sometimes the hair is twisted up into long and narrow ringlets, and, if the savage should not happen to have enough hair for this fashion, he straightway makes a wig in imitation of it. Now and then the head is shaved, except a transverse crest of hair, and sometimes the natives will take a fashion of rubbing red ochre and turtle-fat into their heads until they are saturated with the compound, and will then twist up the hair into little strands.

The men of this part of Australia never wear any dress, and the women are often equally indifferent to costume. At Cape York, however, they mostly wear an apology for a petticoat, consisting of a tuft of long grass or split pandanus leaves suspended to the front of the girdle. On great occasions, and especially in their dances, they wear over this a second petticoat mostly made of some leaf, and having the ends woven into a sort of waistband. The material of the petticoat is generally pandanus leaf, but, whatever may be the material, the mode of plaiting it and the general form are the same among all the tribes of Torres Straits. From this useful leaf, the women also make the rude sails for their canoes, which serve the double purpose of sails and coverings under which the natives can sleep in wet weather.

The women have rather a curious mode of wearing one of their ornaments. This is a very long belt, composed of many strands of plaited or twisted fibre, and passed round the body in such a manner that it crosses on the breast like the now abolished cross-belts of the soldier. It is drawn rather tight, and may perhaps be of some service in supporting the bosom. In neither case does clothing seem to be worn as a mode of concealing any part of the body, but merely as a defence against the weather or as an ornament. Even when dress is worn it is of a very slight character, with one or two exceptions. These exceptions are the fur cloaks, with which the women sometimes clothe themselves, and a remarkable garment which presently will be described.

The fur cloaks are made almost universally from the skin of the opossum, and, as the animal is a small one, a considerable number are sewed together to make a single robe. The mode of manufacture is exactly similar to that which was described when treating of the kaross of the Kaffir tribes, the skins being cut to the proper shape, laid side by side, and sewed laboriously together with threads formed of the sinews of the kangaroo’s tail, or often with those which are drawn out of the tails of the very creatures which furnish the skin.

Sometimes a piece of kangaroo skin is used for the same purpose, but in neither case does it fulfil the office of a dress according to our ideas. The cloak is a very small one in proportion to the size of the women, and it is worn by being thrown over the back and tied across the chest by a couple of thongs, so as to leave the whole front of the body uncovered. If the garment in question be the skin of the kangaroo, it is slung over one shoulder, and allowed to fall much as it likes, the only object seeming to be that it shall cover the greater part of the back and one shoulder. Occasionally a man wears a fur cloak, but he seems to be very indifferent as to the manner in which it hangs upon his body, sometimes draping it about his shoulders, sometimes letting it fall to his waist and gathering it about his loins, and sometimes, especially if walking, holding two corners together with his left hand in front of his breast, while his right hand grasps his bundle of weapons.

Mr. Angas mentions one instance of a singularly perfect dress in use among the Australians—the only dress in fact that is really deserving of the name. It is a large cloak made from the zostera or sea grass, a plant that is remarkable for being the only true flowering plant that grows in the sea. It has very long grass-like blades, and is found in vast beds, that look in a clear sea like luxuriant hay-fields just before mowing.

The fibre of the zostera is long, and wonderfully tough, and indeed the fibre is so good, and the plant so abundant, that the uses to which it is now put, such as packing and stuffing, are far below its capabilities, and it ought to be brought into use for purposes for which a long and strong fibre are needed. Some time ago, when the supply of rags for paper seemed to be failing, there was an attempt made to substitute the zostera for rags; and, although it was not a perfectly successful experiment, it had at all events the elements of success in it.

With this long grass the Australian native occasionally makes a large cloak, which will cover the whole body. It is made by laying the fibres side by side, and lashing them together at regular intervals, much as the well-known New Zealand mantle is made from the phormium. Anxious to avoid trouble, the native only fastens together a sufficient quantity to make a covering for his body as low as the knees, the loose ends of the zostera being left as a kind of long fringe that edges the mantle all round, and really has a very graceful effect.

The illustration No. 2, on the next page, shows one of those curious mantles, which was sketched while on the body of the wearer. As the manufacture of such a mantle involves much trouble, and the Australian native has the full savage hatred of labor, very few of these cloaks are to be seen. Indeed, nothing but a rather long inclement season will induce a native to take the trouble of making a garment which he will only use for a comparatively short period, and which is rather troublesome to carry about when not wanted.

We now come to the food of the natives. As has already been stated, they eat almost anything, but there are certain kinds of food which they prefer, and which will be specially mentioned.

As to vegetable food, there are several kinds of yams which the more civilized tribes cultivate—the nearest approach to labor of which they can be accused. It is almost exclusively on the islands that cultivation is found, and Mr. M’Gillivray states that on the mainland he never saw an attempt at clearing the ground for a garden. In the islands, however, the natives manage after a fashion to raise crops of yams.

When they want to clear a piece of ground, they strew the surface with branches, which are allowed to wither and dry; as soon as they are thoroughly dried, fire is set to them, and thus the space is easily cleared from vegetation. The ground is then pecked up with a stick sharpened at the point and hardened by fire; the yams are cut up and planted, and by the side of each hole a stick is thrust into the ground, so as to form a support for the plant when it grows up. The natives plant just before the rainy season. They never trouble themselves to build a fence round the simple garden, neither do they look after the growth of the crops, knowing that the rains which are sure to fall will bring their crops to perfection.

There are also multitudes of vegetable products on which the natives feed. One of them, which is largely used, is called by them “biyu.” It is made from the young and tender shoots of the mangrove tree. The sprouts, when three or four inches in length, are laid upon heated stones, and covered with bark, wet leaves, and sand. After being thoroughly stewed, they are beaten between two stones, and the pulp is scraped away from the fibres. It then forms a slimy gray paste, and, although it is largely eaten, the natives do not seem to like it, and only resort to it on a necessity. They contrive, however, to improve its flavor by adding large quantities of wild yams and other vegetable products.

Perhaps the most celebrated wild food of the Australians is the “nardoo,” which has become so familiar to the British reader since the important expedition of Burke and Wills. The nardoo is the produce of a cryptogamous plant which grows in large quantities, but is rather local. The fruit is about as large as a pea, and is cleaned for use by being rubbed in small wooden troughs. It is then pounded into a paste, and made into cakes, like oatmeal.

The nardoo plant is one of the ferns, and those of my readers who are skilled in botany will find it in the genus Marsilea. Like many of the ferns, the plant presents a strangely unfernlike aspect, consisting of upright and slender stems, about twelve inches high, each having on its tips a small quadruple frond, closely resembling a flower. The fruit, or “sporocarp” of the nardoo is the part that is eaten; and it is remarkable for its powers of absorbing water, and so increasing its size. Indeed, when the fruit is soaked in water, it will in the course of a single hour swell until it is two hundred times its former size.

The nardoo is useful in its way, and, when mixed with more nutritious food, is a valuable article of diet. Taken alone, however, it has scarcely the slightest nutritive powers, and though it distends the stomach, and so keeps off the gnawing sense of hunger, it gives no strength to the system. Even when eaten with fish, it is of little use, and requires either fat or sugar to give it the due power of nourishment. With the wonderful brightness of spirit which Mr. Wills managed to keep up, even when suffering the severest hardships, and feeling himself gradually dying, he gives in his diary a curiously accurate picture of the effects of living for a length of time on an innutritious substance. He liked the nardoo, and consumed considerable quantities of it, but gradually wasted away, leaving a record in his diary that “starvation on nardoo is by no means unpleasant but for the weakness one feels, and the utter inability to rouse one’s self; for as far as appetite is concerned, it gives the greatest satisfaction.”

The death of this fine young man affords another proof of the disadvantage at which a stranger to the country is placed while traversing a new land. Many native tribes lived on the route along which the travellers passed, and, from their knowledge of the resources of the country, were able to support themselves; whereas the white travellers seem to have died of starvation in the midst of plenty.

The chief vegetable food, however, is furnished by the bulrush root, which is to the Australians who live near rivers the staff of life. As the task of procuring it is a very disagreeable one, it is handed over to the women, who have to wade among the reeds and half bury themselves in mud while procuring the root.

It is cooked after the usual Australian manner. A heap of limestones is raised, and heated by fire. The roots are then laid on the hot stones, and are covered with a layer of the same material. In order to produce a quantity of steam, a heap of wet grass is thrown on the upper layer of stones, and a mound of sand heaped over all.

As the root, however well cooked, is very fibrous, the natives do not swallow it, but, after chewing it and extracting all the soft parts, they reject the fibres, just as a sailor throws aside his exhausted quid; and great quantities of these little balls of fibre are to be found near every encampment. The same fibre is convertible into string, and is used in the manufacture of fishing lines and nets.

The singular knowledge of vegetable life possessed by the natives is never displayed with greater force than in the power which they have of procuring water. In an apparently desert place, where no signs of water are to be found, and where not even a pigeon can be seen to wing its way through the air, as the guide to the distant water toward which it is flying, the native will manage to supply himself with both water and food.

He looks out for certain eucalypti or gum-trees, which are visible from a very great distance, and makes his way toward them. Choosing a spot at three or four yards from the trunk, with his katta he digs away at the earth, so as to expose the roots, tears them out of the ground, and proceeds to prepare them. Cutting them into pieces of a foot or so in length, he stands them upright in the bark vessel which an Australian mostly carries with him, and waits patiently. Presently a few drops of water ooze from the lower ends of the roots, and in a short time water pours out freely, so that an abundant supply of liquid is obtained.

Should the native be very much parched, he takes one of the pieces of root, splits it lengthwise, and chews it, finding that it gives as much juice as a water-melon. The youngest and freshest-looking trees are always chosen for the purpose of obtaining water, and the softest-looking roots selected. After the water has all been drained from them, they are peeled, pounded between two stones, and then roasted; so that the eucalyptus supplies both food and drink.

As, however, has been stated, the chief reliance of the natives is upon animal food and fish, molluscs, crustacea, reptiles, and insects form a very considerable proportion of their food. Collecting the shell-fish is the duty of the women, chiefly because it is really hard work, and requires a great amount of diving. Throughout the whole of this vast continent this duty is given to the women; and whether in the Gulf of Carpentaria, on the extreme north, or in the island of Van Diemen’s Land, in the extreme south, the same custom prevails. During Labillardière’s voyage in search of La Perouse, the travellers came upon a party of the natives of Van Diemen’s Land while the women were collecting shell-fish, and the author gives a good description of the labors to which these poor creatures were subjected:—

“About noon we saw them prepare their repast. Hitherto we had but a faint idea of the pains the women take to procure the food requisite for the subsistence of their families. They took each a basket, and were followed by their daughters, who did the same. Getting on the rocks that projected into the sea, they plunged from them to the bottom in search of shell-fish. When they had been down some time, we became very uneasy on their account; for where they had dived were seaweeds of great length, among which we observed the fucus pyriferus, and we feared that they might have been entangled in these, so as to be unable to regain the surface.

“At length, however, they appeared, and convinced us that they were capable of remaining under water twice as long as our ablest divers. An instant was sufficient for them to take breath, and then they dived again. This they did repeatedly till their baskets were nearly full. Most of them were provided with a little bit of wood, cut into the shape of a spatula, and with these they separated from beneath the rocks, at great depths, very large sea-ears. Perhaps they chose the biggest, for all they brought were of a great size.

“On seeing the large lobsters which they had in their baskets, we were afraid that they must have wounded these poor women terribly with their large claws; but we soon found that they had taken the precaution to kill them as soon as they caught them. They quitted the water only to bring their husbands the fruits of their labor, and frequently returned almost immediately to their diving till they had procured a sufficient meal for their families. At other times they stayed a little while to warm themselves, with their faces toward the fire on which their fish was roasting, and other little fires burning behind them, that they might be warmed on all sides at once.

“It seemed as if they were unwilling to lose a moment’s time; for while they were warming themselves, they were employed in roasting fish, some of which they laid on the coals with the utmost caution, though they took little care of the lobsters, which they threw anywhere into the fire; and when they were ready they divided the claws among the men and the children, reserving the body for themselves, which they sometimes ate before returning into the water.

“It gave us great pain to see these poor women condemned to such severe toil; while, at the same time, they ran the hazard of being devoured by sharks, or entangled among the weeds that rise from the bottom of the sea. We often entreated their husbands to take a share in their labor at least, but always in vain. They remained constantly near the fire, feasting on the best bits, and eating broiled fucus, or fern-roots. Occasionally they took the trouble to break boughs of trees into short pieces to feed the fire, taking care to choose the dryest.

“From their manner of breaking them we found that their skulls must be very hard; for, taking hold of the sticks at each end with the hand, they broke them over their heads, as we do at the knee, till they broke. Their heads being constantly bare, and often exposed to all weathers in this high latitude, acquire a capacity for resisting such efforts: besides, their hair forms a cushion which diminishes the pressure, and renders it much less painful on the summit of the head than any other part of the body. Few of the women, however, could have done as much, for some had their hair cut pretty short, and wore a string several times round the head; others had only a simple crown of hair. We made the same observation with respect to several of the children, but none of the men. These had the back, breast, shoulders, and arms covered with downy hair.”

Sometimes a party of women will go out on a raft made of layers of reeds, pushing themselves along by means of very long poles. When they arrive at a bed of mussels, they will stay there nearly all day diving from the raft, with their nets tied round their necks, and, after remaining under water for a considerable time, come up with a heavy load of mussels in their nets.

They even manage to cook upon this fragile raft. They make a heap of wet sand upon the reeds, put a few stones on it, and build their fire on the stones, just as if they had been on shore. After remaining until they have procured a large stock of mussels, they pole themselves ashore, and in all probability have to spend several hours in cooking the mussels for the men. The mussels are usually eaten with the bulrush root.

There is a sort of crayfish which is found in the mud-flats of rivers and lakes. These are also caught by the women, who feel for them in the mud with their feet, and hold them down firmly until they can be seized by the hand. As soon as the creatures are taken, the claws are crushed to prevent them from biting, and they are afterward roasted, while still alive, on the embers of the fire. Tadpoles are favorite articles of diet with the Australians, who fry them on grass.

The ordinary limpet, mussel, and other molluscs, are largely eaten by the natives, who scoop them out by means of smaller shells, just as is done by boys along our own coasts—a plan which is very efficacious, as I can testify from personal experience. Sometimes they cook the molluscs by the simple process of throwing them on the embers, but as a general rule they eat them in a raw state, as we eat oysters.

Fish they catch in various ways. The usual method is by a hook and line; the former of which is ingeniously cut out of the shell of the hawksbill turtle. Two of these hooks are now before me, and raise a feeling of wonder as to the fish which could be induced to take such articles into its mouth. It is flat, very clumsily made, and there is no barb, the point being curved very much inward, so as to prevent the fish from slipping off the hook. In fact the whole shape of the hook is almost exactly identical with that of the hook which is found throughout Polynesia and extends to New Zealand.

The hook is fastened to a long and stout line, made by chewing reeds, stripping them into fibres, and rolling them on the thighs. Two of these strings are then twisted together, and the line is complete. My own specimen of a line is about as thick as the fishing lines used on our coasts, and it is very long, having a hook at either end. The hook is lashed to the line by a very firm but rather clumsy wrapping. Sometimes the line is made of scraped rattan fibres.

Another mode of fishing is by the net. This requires at least two men to manage it. The net is many feet in length, and about four feet in width. It is kept extended by a number of sticks placed a yard or so apart, and can then be rolled up in a cylindrical package and be taken to the water. One man then takes an end of the net, unrolls it, and with the assistance of his comrade drops it into the water. As soon as the lower edge of the net touches the bottom, the men wade toward the shore, drawing with them the two ends of the net and all the fish that happen to be within its range. As soon as they near the shore, they bring the two ends of the net to the land, fix them there, and are then able to pick up and throw ashore all the fish that are in the net. Some of the more active fish escape by leaping over the upper edge of the net, and some of the mud-loving and crafty wriggle their way under the lower edge; but there is always a sufficiency of fish to reward the natives for their labor.

Like the fishing line, the net is made of chewed reeds, and the labor of chewing and twisting the string belongs exclusively to the women.

A third mode of fishing is by employing certain traps or baskets, ingeniously woven of rattan, and made so that the fish can easily pass into them, but cannot by any possibility get out again. Sometimes fish are speared in the shallow water, the native wading in, and with unerring aim transfixing the fish with his spear. Even the children take part in this sport, and, though armed with nothing better than a short stick, sharpened at one end, contrive to secure their fish. With the same stick they dig molluscs out of the mud, and turn crustacea out of their holes; and when they can do this, they are supposed to be able to shift for themselves, and their parents take no more trouble about feeding them.

They are not more fastidious in the cooking of fish than of crustacea or molluscs, but just throw them on the fire, turn them once or twice with a stick, and when they are warmed through and the outside scorched, they pick them out of the fire, scrape off the burnt scales, and eat them without further ceremony.

Insect food is much used among the Australians. As might be expected, honey is greatly valued by them, and they display great ingenuity in procuring it. When a native sees a bee about the flowers, and wishes to find the honey, he repairs to the nearest pool, selects a spot where the bank shelves very gradually, lies on his face, fills his mouth with water, and patiently awaits the arrival of a bee. These insects require a considerable amount of moisture, as every one knows who has kept them, and the bee-hunter reckons on this fact to procure him the honey which he desires. After a while a bee is sure to come and drink, and the hunter, hearing the insect approaching him, retains his position and scarcely breathes, so fearful is he of alarming it. At last it alights, and instantly the native blows the water from his mouth over it, stunning it for the moment. Before it can recover itself, he seizes it, and by means of a little gum attaches to it a tuft of white down obtained from one of the trees.

As soon as it is released, the insect flies away toward its nest, the white tuft serving the double purpose of making it more conspicuous and retarding its flight. Away goes the hunter after it at full speed, running and leaping along in a wonderful manner, his eyes fixed on the guiding insect, and making very light of obstacles. (See illustration No. 1, on the 716th page.) Sometimes a fallen tree will be in his way, and if he can he jumps over it; but at all risks he must get over without delay, and so he dashes at the obstacle with reckless activity. Should he surmount it, well and good; but if, as often happens, he should fall, he keeps his eyes fixed, as well as he can, on the bee, and as soon as he springs to his feet he resumes the chase. Even if he should lose sight of it for a moment, he dashes on in the same direction, knowing that a bee always flies in a straight line for its home; and when he nears it, the angry hum of the hampered insect soon tells him that he has recovered the lost ground.

The reader will see that this mode of tracking the bee to its home is far inferior to that of the American bee-hunters, and is rather a business of the legs than of the head. The Australian bee-hunter waits until a bee happens to come to the spot where he lies; the American bee-hunter baits an attractive trap, and induces the insect to come to the spot which he selects. Then the Australian bee-hunter only runs after the single bee; whereas the American bee-hunter economizes his strength by employing two bees, and saving his legs.

He puts honey on a flat wooden slab, having drawn a circle of white paint round it. The bee alights on the honey, and, after filling its crop, crawls through the white paint and sets off homeward. The hunter follows the “bee-line” taken by the insect, and marks it by scoring or “blazing” a few trees. He then removes his honeyed trap to a spot at an angle with his former station and repeats the process. There is no need for him to race after the flying bee, and to run considerable risk of damaging himself more or less seriously; he simply follows out the lines which the two bees have taken, and, by fixing on the point at which they meet, walks leisurely up to the nest.

Having found his bee nest, the Australian loses no time in ascending to the spot, whether it be a cleft in a rock, or, as is usually the case, a hole in a tree. This latter spot is much favored by the bees, as well as by many of the arboreal mammals, of which there are so many in Australia. The sudden and violent tempests which rage in that part of the world tear off the branches of trees and hurl them to the ground. During succeeding rainy seasons, the wet lodges in the broken branch, and by degrees rots away the wood, which is instantly filled with the larvæ of beetles, moths, flies, and other insects that feed upon decaying wood. Thus, in a few years, the hollow extends itself until it burrows into the tree itself, and sometimes descends nearly from the top to the bottom, thus forming an admirable locality for the bees.

Taking with him a hatchet, a basket, and a quantity of dry grass or leaves, the native ascends, lights the grass, and under cover of the smoke chops away the wood until he can get at the combs, which he places in the basket, with which he descends. Should he be too poor to possess even a basket, he extemporizes one by cutting away the bark of the tree; and should the nest be a very large one, he is supplied by his friends from below with a number of vessels, and passes them down as fast as they are filled.

Perhaps some of my readers may remark that honey cannot be rightly considered as insect food, and that it ought to have been ranked among the vegetable productions. The Australian, however, does not content himself with extracting the honey from the comb, but eats it precisely in the state in which it is brought from the nest. As the bees are not forced, as amongst English bee-masters, to keep their honey-cells distinct from those which contain the hoard and the “bee-bread,” each comb contains indiscriminately bee-bread, young bee-grubs, and honey, and the Australian eats all three with equal satisfaction.

Another kind of insect food is a grub which inhabits the trunks of trees, and of which the natives are inordinately fond. They have a wonderful faculty of discovering the presence of this grub, and twist it out of its hole with an odd little instrument composed of a hook fastened to the end of a slender twig. This implement is carried in the hair so as to project over the ear, like a clerk’s pen, and for a long time puzzled travellers, who thought it to be merely an ornament, and could not understand its very peculiar shape.

The larva is the caterpillar of a moth which is closely allied to the goat-moth of our own country, and has the same habit of burrowing into the wood of living trees. The hooked instrument which is used for drawing them out of their holes is called the “pileyah,” and is employed also for hooking beetles, grubs, and other insects out of their holes in the ground. When the pileyah is used for extracting grubs from the earth, the ground is first loosened by means of a wooden scoop that looks something like a hollowed waddy. The pileyah is then tied to the end of a polygonum twig of sufficient length, and by such means can be introduced into the holes.

Perhaps the most celebrated of the various insect banquets in which the Australians delight is that which is furnished by the bugong moth, as the insect is popularly, but wrongly, called. Instead of belonging to the moth tribe, it is one of the butterflies, and belongs to the graceful family of the Heliconidæ. Its scientific name is Euplœa hamata. The bugong is remarkable for the fact that its body, instead of being slender like that of most butterflies, is very stout, and contains an astonishing amount of oily matter. The color of the insect is dark brown, with two black spots on the upper wings. It is a small insect, measuring only an inch and a half across the wings.

It is found in the New South Wales district, and inhabits a range of hills that are called from the insect the Bugong Mountains. The Australians eat the bugong butterflies just as locusts are eaten in many parts of the world, and, for the short time during which the insect makes its appearance, feast inordinately upon it, and get quite fat. The following account is given by Mr. G. Bennett:—

“After riding over the lower ranges, we arrived a short distance above the base of the Bugong Mountain, tethered the horses, and ascended on foot, by a steep and rugged path, which led us to the first summit of the mountain: at this place, called Ginandery by the natives, enormous masses of granite rock, piled one upon another, and situated on the verge of a wooded precipice, excited our attention. An extensive and romantic view was here obtained of a distant, wooded, mountainous country.

“This was the first place where, upon the smooth sides or crevices of the granite blocks, the bugong moths congregated in such incredible multitudes; but, from the blacks having recently been here, we found but few of the insects remaining. At one part of this group of granite rocks were two pools, apparently hollowed naturally from the solid stone, and filled with cool and clear water; so, lighting a fire, we enjoyed a cup of tea previous to recommencing our further ascent. On proceeding we found the rise more gradual, but unpleasant, from the number of loose stones and branches of trees strewed about; several of the deserted bark huts of the natives (which they had temporarily erected when engaged in collecting and preparing the bugong) were scattered around. Shrubs and plants were numerous as we proceeded, but, with few exceptions, did not differ from those seen in other parts of the colony.

“Near a small limpid stream a species of Lycopodium grew so dense as to form a carpet over which we were able to walk. The timber trees towered to so great an elevation that the prospect of the country we had anticipated was impeded. At last we arrived at another peculiar group of granite rocks in enormous masses and of various forms; this place, similar to the last, formed the locality where the bugong moths congregate, and is called ‘Warrogong’ by the natives. The remains of recent fires apprised us that the aborigines had only recently left the place for another of similar character a few miles further distant.

“Our native guides wished us to proceed and join the tribe, but the day had so far advanced that it was thought more advisable to return, because it was doubtful, as the blacks removed from a place as soon as they had cleared it of the insects, whether we should find them at the next group, or removed to others still further distant.

“From the result of my observations it appears that the insects are only found in such multitudes on these insulated and peculiar masses of granite, for about the other solitary granite rocks, so profusely scattered over the range, I did not observe a single moth, or even the remains of one. Why they should be confined only to these particular places, or for what purpose they thus collect together, is not a less curious than interesting subject of inquiry. Whether it be for the purpose of emigrating, or any other cause, our present knowledge cannot satisfactorily answer.

“The bugong moths, as I have before observed, collect on the surfaces, and also in the crevices, of the masses of granite in incredible quantities. To procure them with greater facility, the natives make smothered fires underneath these rocks about which they are collected, and suffocate them with smoke, at the same time sweeping them off frequently in bushelfuls at a time. After they have collected a large quantity, they proceed to prepare them, which is done in the following manner.

“A circular space is cleared upon the ground, of a size proportioned to the number of insects to be prepared; on it a fire is lighted and kept burning until the ground is considered to be sufficiently heated, when, the fire being removed, and the ashes cleared away, the moths are placed upon the heated ground, and stirred about until the down and wings are removed from them; they are then placed on pieces of bark, and winnowed to separate the dust and wings mixed with the bodies; they are then eaten, or placed into a wooden vessel called ‘walbum,’ or ‘calibum,’ and pounded by a piece of wood into masses or cakes resembling lumps of fat, and may be compared in color and consistence to dough made from smutty wheat mixed with fat.

“The bodies of the moths are large and filled with a yellowish oil, resembling in taste a sweet nut. These masses (with which the ‘netbuls,’ or ‘talabats,’ of the native tribes are loaded during the season of feasting upon the bugong) will not keep more than a week, and seldom even for that time; but by smoking they are able to preserve them for a much longer period. The first time this diet is used by the native tribes, violent vomiting and other debilitating effects are produced, but after a few days they become accustomed to its use, and then thrive and fatten exceedingly upon it.

“These insects are held in such estimation among the aborigines, that they assemble from all parts of the country to collect them from these mountains. It is not only the native blacks that resort to the bugong, but crows also congregate for the same purpose. The blacks (that is, the crows and the aborigines) do not agree about their respective shares: so the stronger decides the point; for, when the crows (called ‘arabul’ by the natives) enter the hollows of the rocks to feed upon the insects, the natives stand at the entrance and kill them as they fly out; and they afford them an excellent meal, being fat from feeding upon the rich bugong. So eager are the feathered blacks or arabuls after this food that they attack it even when it is preparing by the natives; but as the aborigines never consider any increase of food a misfortune, they lay in wait for the arabuls with waddies or clubs, kill them in great numbers, and use them as food.”

Reptiles form a very considerable part of an Australian’s diet, and he displays equal aptitude in capturing and cooking them. Turtle is an especial favorite with him, not only on account of its size, and of the quantity of meat which it furnishes, but on account of the oil which is obtained from it.

On the coast of Australia several kinds of turtle are found, the most useful of which are the ordinary green turtle and the hawksbill. They are caught either in the water, or by watching for them when they come on shore for the purpose of laying their eggs, and then turning them on their backs before they can reach the sea. As, however, comparatively few venture on the shore, the greater number are taken in the water. Along the shore the natives have regular watchtowers or cairns made of stones and the bones of turtles, dugongs, and other creatures. When the sentinel sees a turtle drifting along with the tide, he gives the alarm, and a boat puts out after it. The canoe approaches from behind, and paddles very cautiously so that the reptile may not hear it. As soon as they come close to it, the chief hunter, who holds in his hand one end of a slight but tough rope, leaps on the turtle’s back, and clings to it with both hands on its shoulders. The startled reptile dashes off, but before it has got very far the hunter contrives to upset it, and while it is struggling he slips the noose of the rope over one of its flippers. The creature is then comparatively helpless, and is towed ashore by the canoe.

In some districts the turtle is taken by means of a harpoon, which is identical in principle with that which is used by the hippopotamus hunters of Africa. There is a long shaft, into the end of which is loosely slipped a movable head. A rope is attached to the head, and a buoy to the other end of the rope. As soon as the reptile is struck, the shaft is disengaged, and is picked up by the thrower; while the float serves as an indication of the turtle’s whereabouts, and enables the hunters to tow it toward the shore.

One of the natives, named Gi’ôm, told Mr. M’Gillivray that they sometimes caught the turtle by means of the remora, or sucking-fish. One of these fish, round whose tail a line has been previously made fast, is kept in a vessel of water on board the boat, and, when a small turtle is seen, the remora is dropped into the sea. Instinctively it makes its way to the turtle, and fastens itself so firmly to the reptile’s back that they are both hauled to the boat’s side and lifted in by the fishermen. Only small turtles can be thus taken, and there is one species which never attains any great size which is generally captured in this curious manner.

The hawksbill turtle is too dangerous an antagonist to be chased in the water. The sharp-edged scales which project from its sides would cut deeply into the hands of any man who tried to turn it; and even the green turtle, with its comparatively blunt-edged shell, has been known to inflict a severe wound upon the leg of the man who was clinging to its back. The native, therefore, is content to watch it ashore, and by means of long, stout poles, which he introduces leverwise under its body, turns it over without danger to himself.

When the Australians have succeeded in turning a turtle, there are great rejoicings, as the very acme of human felicity consists, according to native ideas, in gorging until the feasters can neither stand nor sit. They may be seen absolutely rolling on the ground in agony from the inordinate distension of their stomachs, and yet, as soon as the pain has abated, they renew their feastings. Mostly they assemble round the turtle, cook it rudely, and devour it on the spot; but in Torres Straits they are more provident, and dry the flesh in order to supply themselves with food during their voyages. They cut up the meat into thin slices, boil the slices, and then dry them in the sun.

During the process of cooking, a considerable amount of oil rises to the surface, and is skimmed off and kept in vessels made of bamboo and turtles’ bladders. The cook, however, has to exercise some vigilance while performing his task, as the natives are so fond of the oil that, unless they are closely watched, they will skim it off and drink it while in an almost boiling state. The boiling and subsequent drying render the flesh very hard, so that it will keep for several weeks; but it cannot be eaten without a second boiling.

The shell of the hawksbill turtle is doubly valuable to the natives, who reserve a little for the manufacture of hooks, and sell the rest to shippers or traders, who bring it to Europe, where it is converted into the “tortoise-shell” with which we are so familiar. There is in my collection a beautiful specimen of one of these scales of tortoise-shell as it was purchased from the natives. It is about eleven inches in length and seven in width, and has a hole at one end by which they string the scales together. There are the scars of eight large limpet shells upon it, showing the singular appearance which the animal must have presented when alive.

The cooking of turtle is a far more important process than that of boiling fish, and a sort of oven is required in order to dress it properly. In principle the oven resembles that which is in use in so many parts of the world, and which has been already described when shewing how the hunters of South Africa cook the elephant’s foot. Instead, however, of digging a hole and burning wood in it, the Australian takes a number of stones, each about the size of a man’s fist, and puts them into the fire. When they are heated, they are laid closely together, and the meat placed upon them. A second layer of heated stones is arranged upon the meat, and a rim or bank of tea-tree bush, backed up with sand or earth, is built round this primitive oven. Grass and leaves are then strewn plentifully over the stones, and are held in their places by the circular bank. The steam is thus retained, and so the meat is cooked in a very effectual manner.

In some parts of the country, however, a more elaborate oven is used. It consists of a hole some three feet in diameter and two feet in depth, and is heated in the following manner:—It is filled to within six inches of the top with round and hard stones, similar to those which have already been described, and upon them a fire is built and maintained for some time. When the stones are thought to be sufficiently heated, the embers are swept away, and the food is simply laid upon the stones and allowed to remain there until thoroughly cooked.

This kind of oven is found over a large range of country, and Mr. M’Gillivray has seen it throughout the shores of Torres Straits, and extending as far southward as Sandy Cape on the eastern side.