Unsuitable nomenclature—Aboriginal of Australia not a “Nigger”—Colour normally chocolate-brown—Lighter in infancy—Variations of shade due to several causes—Colour-classification schemes obsolete—Pigmentation very superficial in aboriginal’s skin—“White blackfellows”—Pigment destroyed by disease and lesion—Actual colour—Its intensity and distribution—Effect of environment on aboriginal’s skin colour—Climatic influence.
The Australian aboriginal is popularly spoken of as a blackfellow; at times one even hears him referred to as a nigger! Strictly speaking, the former appellation is not in accordance with obvious fact, and the latter in addition is scientifically grossly incorrect. The aboriginal is no more black than the average modern European is white, and, apart from his darker colour, he certainly has not many negroid features which we do not also possess, at any rate more or less sporadically. Under normal conditions, the colour of the Australian is a velvety chocolate-brown, somewhat lighter or more coppery in the female than in the male. The skin of a newly-born piccaninny is very much paler, with a distinct tint of fleshy red about it, which many people maintain reminds one of the skin of young murines, as it appears before it developes fur. For this reason, too, the inexperienced observer often accuses an aboriginal mother of infidelity; the colour of the infant’s skin, when compared with that of its parent, indeed suggests a mixing of her blood with that of another lighter coloured race. The child’s skin, however, soon darkens in colour; and, within a few weeks, attains a shade not appreciably different from that of the adults of its tribe.
Apparent gradations in colour are occasionally observed among different members of one and the same tribe. As with ourselves, circulatory disorders are not absent among the aborigines, and such materially affect the quality of colour in the aboriginal’s skin. Simple anaemia, or even a temporary blanching of the tissues, through nervousness or fright during the time of an examination, will affect the appearance of the skin. In the same way, full-bloodedness, or a passing flush, will deepen the shade, the injection of blood into the underlying tissues being clearly noticeable through the epidermis. Pathological conditions like jaundice are also frequently developed in the aborigines, and impart to their skin a sickly ashen hue; in this case the yellow colour of the conjunctiva usually indicates the disorder. The likelihood of any such conditions being present should be carefully investigated before applying the standard colour tables of modern anthropologists.
The oldest systems of colour-classification divided the races of man into five groups—the white, the yellow, the red, the brown, and the black. But nowadays, even the layman knows that such hard and fast divisions are impossible. We find that among individuals of one particular race, whatever its so-called, and somewhat arbitrary, colour might be, there exist noticeable variations in shade. Red Indians have yellow or brown skins almost as frequently as a genuine red; the “white” races of Europe often have so dark a “complexion” that they are in reality brown; and the skin of a negro at times has a distinctly reddish or brownish hue.
Early anthropologists thought that the “dust or tawny” colour was due to the accumulation of carbon in the external layers of the integument. But since the introduction of the microscope, which made the study of thin sections of human skin under great magnification possible, it was found that the colour is due to living cells, which carry pigment in their protoplasm, and are more or less migratory.
In the Australian aboriginal, these pigment-cells lie quite superficially in the skin. Some years ago Professor Klaatsch, of Heidelberg University, when in Australia, managed to obtain the corpse of an aboriginal, which he consigned to a large tank holding an ordinary preserving fluid. Hermetically sealing the lid of the tank, the Professor shipped the specimen to Europe, where it was to be dissected. Some months later, I joined him at Breslau University, and together we opened the tank. Imagine our surprise when we beheld what one might describe as an anthropological contradiction—a “white blackfellow!” It took us some time to recognize in the form in front of us that of the aboriginal we had seen in Australia. What had happened was that, during the continued movement of the preserving solution during the transport, the superficial layers of the skin had been removed, and, with them, the colour too. In other parts, the skin had blistered and become detached, leaving more or less adherent strips of epidermis in which the colouring matter could be recognized.
I have seen a similar condition of things in corpses of aborigines, in the remoter districts of the Australian bush, where the dead are placed to rest on artificial platforms in the branches of trees. When, during the processes of decomposition, the skin peels off, and is washed away by the rain, the corpse assumes a pinkish white colour, resembling the body of a white man, some time dead. No doubt it was on this account that, in the early days of European settlement, it was a general belief among the aborigines that the white man was one of their own dead warriors returned to life in a different colour. We have a classical example in the experience of the escaped convict, William Buckley, who lived for thirty-two years among the natives of Victoria, the latter regarding him as their dead chief returned to life transformed. It is quite possible that this belief, which is so common among the tribes, originated from the fact that the natives themselves had observed, as Professor Klaatsch and I did, that the decomposing bodies of their dead might, under certain conditions, become very much lighter in colour.
Throughout the Northern Kimberley district the natives maintain that a dead tribesman will “jump up all-the-same whitefellow” in colour.
A singular case, illustrative of the shallowness of pigmentation in the epithelium of an aboriginal’s skin, was reported from Canowie Sheep Station by the late Rev. Tenison Woods. A native, suffering from an obstinate skin disease, was “dipped,” like a sheep, in a solution containing soft soap, tobacco, and arsenic, the last-named in the proportion of one ounce to the gallon of water. The native became very ill, lost his hair, and his finger and toe-nails. Eventually he became better, but his skin peeled off. He was then described as “presenting the appearance of a magpie during the time the process of decortication was going on.” Finally his skin became “smooth and as glossy as marble.”
In pemphigoid skin-eruptions, when blister-like bullae develop over different parts of the body, the lesions left in the skin for a while are pinkish and unpigmented. Scars resulting from a cut or burn remain red for a considerable time, but eventually turn the same uniform colour as the rest of the skin.
Under normal conditions, one may often find patches of pigment on mucous surfaces of the inner lips and mouth. The pathological condition known as leucoderma is, on the other hand, rather frequently observed among the different tribes of Australia. I have seen natives, both in the north and south of this continent, whose skin over certain areas was devoid of pigment; the hands and feet seem particularly prone to be thus affected.
So much for the seat of the pigmentation. If we now enquire into the actual complexion, or colour-tint, of the aboriginal’s skin, the question is not so easily satisfied as one might have thought. The colour is, of course, brown—a soft, velvety brown, like chocolate. Scientists tell us it is about the same as tint No. 3 of the colour scheme on Plate III, Notes and Queries on Anthropology, London. But the matter is not so simple as one might be led to believe. To begin with, we have not a homogeneous colouration before us. If, for instance, we wanted to paint a picture of an aboriginal, we would mix a fundamental chocolate-brown to deck the surface with; to obtain the shade of the back we should have to mix a blue or green with the brown; whereas the cheeks and chin would require a yellow or red. The intensity of pigmentation varies to a noticeable degree; it is deepest on the back and neck, and along the folds of the skin. The soles and palms are always very much lighter in colour than the rest of the body.
Environment plays an important role, because a native’s skin has the remarkable power of what might be termed complimentary colour-adaptation, as a result of which a hard and fast definition, or fixing, of the shade is practically impossible. For this same reason it is conceivable why the sombre hue of the hunter’s skin becomes neutralized by the sallowness of the arid Central Australian scrub, as well as by the deeply-shaded verdure of the tropical jungle. Upon a clear day, with an open, blue sky, an aboriginal always appears dark or dingy, while on a dull and cloudy day, his skin is more of a chocolate-brown; when he is swimming in the open sea, his colour may even become coppery and seem not much darker than that of a Javanese.
The adaptable tone-characteristics of their skin are well-known to the natives themselves, not only while in the hunting field and on the warpath, but also on the playground. At Opparinna, in the Musgrave Ranges, children were seen indulging in a game resembling “hide and seek,” and often, in an endeavour to avoid the keen eye of the “seeker,” one would duck in amongst the boulders of granite and imitate the rust-coloured contours of a boulder to perfection.
PLATE VI
1. Wongapitcha woman, wearing “ungwaina” (nose-stick), and fur-string bandeau.
2. Wongapitcha woman, wearing bloodwood seed pendants called “dindula.” Note “Semitic” nose.
We know that the climate has an important bearing upon the subject of pigmentation in all races. Most of us have had our faces, hands, and other exposed parts of our body bronzed when holiday-making at the seaside. If we come straight from indoor life in the city, we might, in addition, find our skin develop a badly blistered condition known as sunburn. Yet the bushman, the coach-driver, or the sailor, who, by long exposure, has acquired a more or less permanent tan, can bask with impunity in the severest rays of the sun.
Exactly the same processes take place in the coloured man’s skin. When cruising about the north coast, I frequently had occasion to observe that my Malay crew were more bronzed above than below the belt. This was obviously caused through continued exposure to the tropical sun, since during the heat of day they would work, or lie about on deck, wearing nothing else than a serong hanging from their waist.
When aborigines are taken from their wild outdoor life, and kept under European conditions, more or less confined, their skin becomes unquestionably lighter; this is particularly noticed in their faces.
These phenomena indicate to us the method Nature adopts in protecting our skin, and with it our system, against scorching rays of the sun; and we also realize why it is that the coloured man can endure the disadvantages of a tropical climate so much better than we.
The same phenomena might also be made responsible for the wonderful absence of pigment in the skin of modern white peoples of European origin. There is no doubt, the great Ice Age and the living in caves and shelters (and huts) were the essential factors which ultimately established the “white” skin in man. In this hypothesis, we naturally assume that our Diluvial or earlier Tertiary ancestor had a moderately dark-coloured skin, which protected him against the tropical sun, which Geology has taught us, shone over Europe at the beginning or middle of that great period.