It has often been written that the Australian aboriginal is without religious ideas and without religious ceremonies. Such assertions are grossly incorrect and by no means portray the psychological side of the primitive man in its true light. He has, on the contrary, religious institutions and obligations which verge on the basis of all modern conceptions and recognition of divine supremacy. If we can class Nature-worship, Ancestor-worship, and Sex-worship as the beginnings of all religious teachings, then the Australian aboriginal has certainly inherited by instinct and tradition a very solid foundation from which we might trace the origin of many, if not most, of our most sacred beliefs in Christianity. At the same time, it must not be forgotten that it is really a difficult matter to distinguish clearly between mythological beliefs and what we class as religion. Religious thought has fluctuated with the advance of civilization and science to such a degree that, even within the short space of time covered by the more reliable records of our history, several revolutionary modifications have come about. As time advances, man becomes more sceptical and more exacting in his demand for proofs, and in his despair over finding nothing tangible to worship, he resorts to the recognition, by instinct or persuasion, of a God who is a Spirit. But all the while, as this secular metamorphosis is proceeding, he keeps his innermost feelings and faith alive by appealing to his knowledge of the gospel or his belief in salvation, in the manner it was presented to him by myth, by legend, or by the Scriptures. His principal guide is his intellect; the less it is trained the stronger his inherited conviction; the more scientific it becomes, the greater his desire to probe the truth.

The modern man has so accustomed himself to an artificial environment that he takes the so-called “elements” of Nature, especially water and fire, in a strictly matter-of-fact sort of way. But the primitive man, who realizes that his very existence is dependent upon these factors, has learned to respect, preserve, and worship them as legacies he imagines to have been left him by some of his illustrious forbears who, he supposes, have gone to an unknown realm where they live in peace and can only return temporarily to their former haunts in the invisible form or through the medium of some other object which is related to the individual in some mysterious way.

The aboriginal looks upon fire as one of the great indispensible quantities of his social existence; it is the element which dispels the evil spirits from his camp; it is the means by which comfort and friendship are made accessible to him; it is his universal companion. More than this, it is the fire, with its warmth and its light, which draws individuals, families, groups, and tribes together and through its agency and influence that social concourse is established which lies at the bottom of all conviviality, oracular discussion, and ceremony. How well this sentiment agrees with the knowledge we possess of the origin of civilization! Indeed the appreciation of fire together with the knowledge of its preservation is perhaps the mightiest factor responsible for making our species human. Once man learned to nurse an original flame he found through accidental cause and kept it constantly by his side, his progress became an established fact. His crude camp-fire talks developed into discussions which he further expanded by means of drawings on the walls of caves he occupied. The free exchange of thought brought about by congregation round the cheerful flame could not fail to incite the intellect; and thus he ascended to the high road of civilization and gathered the fruits of culture he now enjoys.

The Aluridja, Wongapitcha, and some of the north-western coastal tribes believe that many years ago, a party of ancestral creatures, more animal than human, came down from the sky through the branches of tall gum-trees to confer with the spirits which roam about at night and conceal themselves in inanimate objects during the day. These monsters brought a fire-stick with them and when they reached the earth, they lit a fire to cook some grubs which they had taken from the bark of the trees during their descent. As they were feasting, the spirits called them and they went with them to a cave where the bones of the persons rested, originally occupied by the spirits themselves. Whilst they were away, the fire which had been left unguarded, decided to run into the bush and, being in a mischievous mood, started an enormous blaze which burned down much of the forest and the tall gum-trees as well. The spirit-ancestors and the heavenly monsters beheld the disaster with consternation and called upon the fire to come back. This it did. But it so happened that some of the tribes’ fathers were hunting in the area, and when they saw the fire, which was strange to them, they snatched portion of it away and ran with it to their camp, where they kept it and fed it with dry grass and sticks. The spirits and their visitors were very angry and never left the fire out of their sight, lest it might abscond again; they were compelled to live on earth for a very long time until the trees grew up again to their lofty domain. The hunters, on the other hand, zealously guarded their prize fearing that it might run away from them. Even to the present day, this belief exists among the older folks, and they always take great care that the ground is cleared of inflammable matter to stop the fire from bolting; to be on the safe side, they invariably carry or keep near to them a fair-sized, glowing fire-stick.

Among the Minning this legend is circulated in a slightly modified form. Two ancestral spirits had their fires burning in the sky at points represented by the pointers of the Southern Cross constellation, when one day they decided to come down to the earth to hunt opossum. They took their fires with them, but while engaged in the chase they left them at their camp. When they had obtained a sufficient number of opossums to make a good meal, they returned to their camp, where they noticed six young men sitting around the fires, who immediately made off, and, in doing so, each took a fire-stick away with him. The spirits gave chase and re-captured five of the thieves, but the sixth, who was named “Warrupu,” reached the camp of his tribe and handed the fire-stick to his mother, “Wenoinn.” The woman ran with it to the white sand hills about Eucla in which she intended hiding it. But the spirits had noticed her and came towards her from above with a spear. In her predicament, the woman threw the fire-stick away, which immediately set the whole of the country ablaze between Eucla and Israelite Bay. All the tribes were thus enabled to seize some of the fire which they have carefully watched over ever since.

A similar tradition is perpetuated by the north-western tribes referred to and affords the motive of one of the most earnest and sacred fire-ceremonies known in Australia. The performance takes place during the night. It is introduced by two men; the one represents a mischievous spirit trying to steal back the sacred fire which is being carefully guarded by a number of men impersonating the ancestral tribesmen who originally discovered it; the other is a warrior who has accidentally come upon the would-be thief and overpowered him. The spirit crouches at the feet of the warrior, sitting upon his heels, with his head drooping upon his chest and his hands hanging loosely between his thighs. The warrior stands erect behind his supposed captive, with his legs apart, and continues striking the fellow with small bundles of brushwood, one of which he holds in either hand. The beating is done regularly, both hands rising simultaneously, high above the warrior’s head, and falling together upon the spirit’s head.

Some two chains away, the tribal ancestors are grouped by the fire-side and are chanting the following lines:

The men sit in a row at the back of the fire, with their thighs asunder and their legs bent in the knees; their chins are resting upon their chests whilst they beat the backs of their heads with small bundles of brushwood, keeping time with their song and with the performance of the warrior.

When, after a while, the music ceases, the warrior is seen to be lying asleep beside his captive. The ancestors become restless and begin to move sideways, first in a body to the left and then to the right; then they move backwards and forwards. This movement is peculiarly weird since the performers do it by shuffling over the ground in the sitting posture, with their arms held erect, but bent in the elbow.

Presently the music starts again, and the spirit known as “Ngardaddi” is seen to be stealthily creeping towards the fire, his body lying flat upon the ground and his legs dragging behind. He advances very slowly, turning his face towards the ground, in search of the fire which escaped from heaven. He wears a tall head-dress quite thirty-two inches long, which consists of a tightly fitting hemispherical cap carrying a column in its centre, at the top of which a bundle of split black-cockatoo feathers is attached. The feathers are from the male bird’s tail, and the brilliant red patches in them are representative of fire. The whole structure is made of paper-bark and human hair-string, the outer surface being decorated with ochre, pipeclay, charcoal, and vegetable-down. Vide Plate XXXII.

All the time the men at the fire-side are beating time with their hands and simultaneously turn their heads from side to side, to all intents and purposes quite unconcerned about the Ngardaddi who is gradually crawling near to them. This is done to entice the thief nearer and lead him to believe that he is unobserved. All of a sudden, however, when the spirit is about to touch the fire and is in the act of snatching it from the tribesmen, one of the group on either side of the fire throws a handful of dry grass upon the smouldering heap. The flame responds immediately and casts a bright light all around.

Alarm is raised by the tribesmen by clapping their hands together violently. The spirit collapses and lies flat upon the ground at full length. Two or three of the men nearest by seize some of the burning grass and hit the prostrate figure over the head. The spirit jumps to his feet and treads the ground as if endeavouring to make his escape. Seeing this, the men at the fire rise quickly and treat their victim most unmercifully with bundles of burning grass and twigs. Eventually each of them seizes a fire-brand and digs the burning end deeply into the spirit’s back and the unfortunate fellow eventually decamps into the darkness amidst the bellowing whoops of his victors.

The air is fouled for some distance around by the smell of the burned skin, reminding one of the stench in a smithy when horses are being shod. The back of the spirit-impersonator is naturally severely scored by the cruel treatment it is subjected to, but the fellow takes it all in good faith and without flinching.

The object of the ceremony is twofold. Firstly all members of the community who are present, men, women, and children, are taught to appreciate the value of fire, and secondly it is believed that the exemplification of so harsh and drastic a treatment for attempted theft will tend to make abortive any schemes of the evil spirits.

The Arunndta are quite convinced in their own minds that in the days of their tribal fathers there was no water on the surface of the ground they occupied; their ancestors in those times were compelled to live on grass and succulent plants, no consideration being given to the fact, as we have learned, that the vegetation derives its moisture from outside sources. But it happened one day, when their forefathers were out hunting, that they met with a number of strange-looking men who were sitting around a pool of pure water from which they were drinking. At the sight of the men, the strangers fled, leaving the water behind. The hunters gave chase but all except one disappeared and he made for a cave in the hills. The hunters closed the mouth of the cave with a big stone and went back to the pool of water to quench their thirst, but when they reached the spot, the water had turned into a massive, round stone. The men made back to the cave and removed the obstruction, but imagine their surprise when they found the cave empty. Upon making a careful search, however, they discovered a long cylindrical stick which had some peculiar markings on it. They took the stick and walked once more towards the petrified pool, and, lo, they beheld the stranger they were looking for walking in the sky. When he saw the stick in the hands of the hunters, he took the form of a cloud, and as he bent his body towards the stick, his long matted hair fell forwards and from it water poured upon the earth beneath. The hunters drank freely of the precious fluid and when they looked skywards again the cloudman had vanished.

From that day onwards the Arunndta medicine men (“Nangarri”) have kept that spot sacred and taboo to the women and children; they call the big stone “Imbodna” which means “the hailstone.” The man who fled to the cave and then escaped from the hunters as a vapour they call “Nangali,” the name for a cloud. The tribe has never since been without water because Nangali left his magic wand in the hands of their ancient sorcerers and whenever the country was suffering from drought they could call upon him to appear in the sky and bring forth rain.

Nangali is one of a group of celestial beings who have been termed “Atoakwatje,” that is Water-Men; they are now looked upon as Demigods who control all terrestrial supplies of water from their abode in the clouds. The Atoakwatje are believed to have certain mysterious connections with some of the tribal sorcerers who in a sense parade on earth as their disciples and attend to the rain-making ceremonies through which they are able to commune with each other.

When the people are in need of water, the rain-makers assemble around the Imbodna and one or two of them produce the sacred stick, known to the Arunndta as “kwatje-purra,” literally meaning “the reproductive organ of water,” and to the Aluridja as “kapi-wiyinna.” Nowadays these sticks, which strictly speaking are of phallic significance, are flat and more like a tjuringa in shape, and have a number of peculiar markings on them. For a time the stick is laid beside the great water-stone, and the sorcerers kneel while they chant with a barely audible voice. They rise to their feet and the most influential individual who is decorated with stripes of yellow vegetable-down and wears a dog-tail tassel on his belt, lifts the stick towards the sky and continues mumbling. The other members kneel again and all present chat together. The man who is standing poises the stick horizontally between his hands and rocks it one way, then another; and this performance is frequently repeated.

When at length the principal performer sits down, the other men leave the spot and run in a single file towards the camp, loudly crying “kurreke ta ta” in imitation of the call of the spur-winged plover.

In the evening a general corroboree is indulged in; and all grown-up persons, male and female, are allowed to join in. Several refrains are forthcoming which are connected with ordinary rain or water festivals. The principal rainmaker does not attend but joins the camp again during the night. It appears that in the interim he has visited the sacred cave, in company of one or two of his brother-sorcerers, to hide the magic stick and preserve it for future use. Any representative of the Atoakwatje group inherits the power to fashion and use the rain-stick, but it is imperative that he learns the art under the direction of a senior and duly qualified nangarri.

A ceremony directly connected with sun-worship belongs to the old Arunndta people and is known as “Ilpalinja.” When the weather has been and continues to be unpleasantly cold, and the mating season of birds and animals has on that account been long delayed, the men construct a large colored design upon the selected ceremonial ground. Radiating from a point upon a cleared space, many lines are drawn with red and white vegetable-down to represent the rays of the sun; and these are intersected at different distances from the central point by a number of concentric circles which represent the fathers of the tribe. The centre of the design is occupied by a stick which is supposed to incorporate some mystical and sacred sun-creature known as “Knaninja Arrerreka.” The same Ilpalinja-design is occasionally carved as the crest of the Knaninja upon a sun-tjuringa. Vide Fig. 6.

A most impressive function might occasionally be witnessed on the north coast, which is associated with the setting sun; it is known to at least two tribes, the one living on the upper reaches of the Victoria River and the other on the western shores of Carpentaria Gulf, including some of the islands. It is usually performed in conjunction with demonstrations calling upon a fabulous being which lives in the sky to fecundate certain species of plants and animals necessary for their daily life. The Carpentaria tribes, moreover, keep their sacred poles, akin to the tjuringas of central Australia, not in caves but in special huts which they construct upon chosen spots absolutely taboo to the general public. These slabs of wood are up to five feet long and are covered with peculiar carvings and markings; they are of the two sexes. Ordinarily they are kept “asleep” by laying them on the floor of the hut side by side, and covering them with sand. When the hour of the ceremony arrives, they are brought out by the “Sun-Men” and stuck in the ground in the full light of the sinking sun. Just as the orb is about to touch the horizon, the tenders of the sacred implements kneel, with their faces turned towards the sun and, lifting their hands, bend their bodies to the ground much after the fashion of an Eastern salaam. We have before us a true form of worship recognizing the supreme powers of the sun, but aimed primarily at calling upon a demigod or Deity in supplication for making a needed article of diet, animal or vegetable, fruitful or prolific.

Mythologically the sun is regarded as a female having human form and a fiery exterior, who walks daily across the firmament and returns at night to rest at her sacred haunts on earth. Some of the central tribes, like the Aluridja, split the sun’s identity into an indefinite number of such women, a different one of which makes the journey every day.

The moon on the other hand is thought to be a man who originally inhabited the earth but was one day chased off it by a gigantic dog the Aluridja call “Tutrarre.” The man jumped into space and walked among the clouds until he reached the earth again. His long walk had made him so hungry and thin that he ravenously ate a great number of opossums which he found in the trees at night. In consequence he swelled out, and became fat and round. Then it was his bad fortune to fall in with the dog again, and this time his obesity prevented his escape. The dog tore him to pieces and swallowed him, bone and all. But it so happened that one of his arm-bones flew from the dog’s jaws and found its way to the sky. There it floated from east to west as a luminous sickle and gradually swelled until it was perfectly round. The dog stood looking up at the bone and howled in anger, but the moon-man reappeared in the sky and converted the dog into stone.

The Kakatu natives believe in a moon-man who lives in the sky and controls the clouds. On a certain day, very long ago, this man was seen by the ancestors of the tribe. It happened thus: Just about dusk, a cloud was observed descending from the sky which came to rest upon the summit of a hill; it was glowing red. A big man, a woman, and two girls stepped upon the earth, and the man took a fire-stick from the cloud which then became black and ascended again. It was the moon-man and his family. The party walked down on to the plain and camped, the old man making a fire with his torch whereby his feminine escort could warm themselves. The moon-man left, taking a new fire-stick with him. In a deep, green water-hole lived a monstrous snake whose colour was much like that of the slime which covered the surface of the water. A lengthy and secret interview took place between the moon-man and the snake on the bank of the lagoon, and the snake produced many tubers of water-lily, and mussels also, for the moon-man to eat. Then the two heard a rustling noise. The snake exclaimed: “What is that? Who dares approach our trysting place?” The moon-man snatched a fire-brand and held it high in the air; this made it light as day. The moon-man’s daughters could be seen creeping towards the men to hear the secret discussion! With a curse upon his mouth, the angry father hurled the fire-stick at his deceitful daughters. The stick struck the ground and sent a shower of sparks over the girls. In an instant everything became dark as night, but every now and again there came from the spot the girls had last been seen at long-drawn growls; from the same spot flashes of light shot forth and illumined the clouds. The snake and the moon-man had disappeared, but the daughters remained just where they had last been seen, for they had been turned to stone and had assumed the rigid form of a dog whose head was directed skywards as if to rebuke the moon-man for the curse he had brought upon them. For a long time the clouds remained dark; then the moon-man re-appeared among them and cast a mournful beam upon the canine image of his daughters. From then till now he has continued to appear periodically in the sky, and his repentant daughters gaze at him; but at times, when the sky is covered with heavy black clouds, the daughters become angry and growl aloud. At these times, too, bright flashes dart from their eyes across the clouds like spears of fire threatening revenge. The stone has remained to the present day, and is known by the name of “Koreno kardjo (dog) gambi” (stone).

The snake is an important character in the mythology of practically every tribe of Australia; in fact most of the permanent water-holes are supposed to be inhabited by great serpents which guard the supplies, destroy unlawful consumers or polluters thereof, and frequently communicate with those spirit ancestors of the tribes who are descended from the original snake-man still living in the sky. In many cases the mythic snakes can be recognized in some characteristic features of the landscape. Take, for instance, the great artesian spring near Coward Springs Station which is known as Blanche Cup. This is looked upon as the mouth of a snake, while the hill immediately at the back of it (Mt. Hamilton) is its head. In consequence the formation is called “Worma-Kadiabba” (snake’s head) by the local Arrabonna tribe. The natives have a dread of these imaginary snake-monsters and prefer not to visit a water-hole at night; in fact, at any time, day or night, they feel safer in the company of a man who is “related” to the snake, because he can protect them and give them the right of approach. The snake is possessed of evil and will molest any but its totemic “relatives.”

The fundamental conception of the kobong (or totem), so far as the Australian aboriginal is concerned, is of a religious nature. In the beginning of all things, the Aluridja say a number of exalted creatures of human form came out of the earth and were gracious to their tribes-people. Then appeared a menace in the shape of a gigantic dog which chased the good people from one place to another, until they decided to adopt the forms of various animals and plants, and thereby became either too fleet for the dog or were not recognized by it. Other good people now descended from the hills and drove the dog back to its hiding place in a cave where the evil spirit dwells. The newcomers kindled a fire at the mouth of the cave and kept the evil beings in captivity whilst the original Deities re-assumed the human form. Ever after, however, these good creatures were able to alter their appearance from human to animal at will; but each individual in his choice adhered to the particular animal or plant which had saved him from the ravages of the great evil dog. Eventually they formed themselves into flat slabs of stone or wood, upon the surfaces of which they scratched the emblems of their animal representation and the traditions of their long wanderings on earth. The spirits of these Deities now live in the sky but can return at any time to re-enter the slab generally known as the “tjuringa.” Among the Minning at Eucla the larger of these objects are known as “wagal-wagal,” the smaller as “bobi,” whilst further west, in the Laverton district, “kaidi” is the prevailing word. It is true, the tjuringa is not known to all tribes; in which case the Deities are supposed to have entered such natural objects as rocks, hills, and conspicuous trees.

The Roper River natives believe that their deified forbears were molested not by a dog, but by a hideous old woman or witch, who, by the influence of evil, entrapped them and subsequently ate them. On one occasion, however, a party of warriors were successful in decoying her away from her haunts and slaying her. The jubilant victors decided to cut out the old woman’s tongue as a trophy, but as they were thus engaged, the tongue flew out of the mouth and spun round in the atmosphere above them, making a terrible noise as it did so. The men chased the tongue, but it flew towards a beefwood tree and embedded itself deeply in the butt; in vain they looked for it and tried to cut it out; it had become part of the tree. Before returning, however, the men took a piece of wood out of the tree, shaped like the woman’s tongue, which they tied to a piece of human hair-string and swung round their heads with joy. Behold their mixed feelings of delight and fear when the piece of wood began to howl with a voice like that of the slain witch! The tribe retained that piece of wood as a sacred memento of their victory, and they gave to it the name the witch was known by, namely “Kunapippi.” Nowadays this object is the equivalent of the central Australian tjuringa.

All tribes recognize the existence of deified ancestors, now real or spiritual, whom they regard as sacred and worship accordingly. All ancestors stand in a definite, intricate, and intimate relationship to some animal, plant, water-hole, or other natural object which they have at some time or other represented; some indeed in the first place appeared as animals and later took the human form. They are now looked upon as being those powers who by virtue of sacred ceremonial can produce the species they have at some time incarnated, in plenty or allow it to proliferate. As a matter of fact, some of the sorcerers of the tribes often declare that they can see the inside of a sacred rock or tjuringa teeming with young, ready to be produced.

The Arunndta refer to their “Knaninja” (i.e. “totem” Deities) as “Altjerrajara,” meaning the Supreme Number; the Aluridja as “Tukurata” or “Tukutita”; and the Dieri as “Muramura.”

Just as the “totem” ancestor is connected with an animal, plant, or other natural object, and is embodied in the sacred form of the tjuringa, so the individual who traces his descent from such ancestor recognizes a close and mysterious affinity between himself and the tjuringa which has become his by heredity; henceforth it becomes his sacred talisman which protects him from evil and procures for him the means of maintaining his existence.

The emblematic representation of the deified ancestor, based upon the form of an animal or plant living to-day and in some way “connected” with the individual, is the “kobong” of the north-western tribes first referred to by Sir George Grey.

The “totem” is very dear and sacred to the native, and is religiously protected by him. I well remember on one occasion on the Alberga River I discovered a small black and yellow banded snake which I killed. An Aluridja man who was attached to the party at the time was greatly shocked at this, and, with genuine sorrow, told me that I had killed his “brother.” Turning to an Arunndta he lamented aloud: “Kornye! Nanni kallye nuka kalla illum,” which literally translated means: “Oh dear! This brother of mine is dead.”

One thing is always essential and that is that a native performs frequent, prolonged, and reverential ceremonies, remote from the women and children, and in the presence of his tjuringa. Under these conditions the tjuringa is believed to have powers similar to those of the Deity it embodies.

When not in use, the tjuringas are stored in caves, the entrances to which are small and not easily discernible; the ground is proclaimed taboo to any but initiated tjuringa holders and is strictly regarded as a sanctum sanctorum. Although the sticks and stones are the individual property of the tribesmen, the objects are generally kept together, and only brought out during a religious ceremony. The old men are the authorized custodians of the sacred collection. The female tjuringas are included, because even though a woman may possess one, she must never see it; if she does, accidentally or otherwise, she is in imminent danger of being killed. No unauthorized hunter is allowed near the prohibited area under any pretext at all; even if an animal he has wounded should by accident make for the sacred ground to breathe its last, the hunter is required by tribal law and usage to sacrifice it to the divine factors incorporated in the tjuringa, by leaving it on the spot.

When on the warpath, a warrior always craves to carry his tjuringa with him, even though this is not always possible. He firmly believes that with the talisman kept on his person, or at any rate knowing that it is nearby, no deadly missile thrown by an enemy will penetrate his body. The mere knowledge of the fact that his opponent has a tjuringa with him, and he not, is sufficient to make a coward of the bravest fighter. Should he be wounded or take ill, one of his “totem-brothers” endeavours to produce a tjuringa, from which, if the medicine man considers it necessary, a little powder is scraped and handed to the patient to swallow with water.

With regard to “totem” animals which form the objects of hunting expeditions, a man is allowed to kill and eat thereof with some restriction. He must kill only one animal at a time, and only in accordance with the method prescribed by the tribal fathers and handed down to them by tradition. This is usually a straightforward hunting method, with as little loss of blood as possible. If much blood should flow, the hunter is obliged to cover it without delay with sand. If possible, other men should cut up the carcase, and only certain portions be handed to the “brother” of the slain animal.

Each tribe has an endless variety of objects (animal, vegetable, terrestrial, meteoric, mythic, and so forth), which may figure as a “totem.” Any one of these may be the primary motive of a separate cult or sacred ceremony, but here again the variety is usually reduced to the number corresponding to the most sanctimonious and most useful creations affecting the affairs of the particular tribe.

The ceremonies take the form of either a direct worship or a prayer for increased productivity of a certain plant or animal, either being offered to the Knaninja or “totem” ancestors living as spirits in the sky. Usually the two ideas are embodied in one grand ceremony, and the method of procedure is governed by tradition. Such ceremonies have been particularly elaborated by the Arunndta tribe, who refer to them by the same name as that of the sacred object, namely “Tjuringa”; less frequently they call them “Intitjuma,” the latter name being applied more to ceremonies without worship.

The Tjuringa ceremonies are divided into grades according to their importance and sacredness. The water ceremony is ordinarily called “Kwatje Tjuringa,” but if the “totem” spirit ancestor is invoked to attend, it goes by the name of “Kwatje Tjuringa Knaninja”; if the principal spirit ancestor is assumed to be present, the title becomes “Kwatje Tjuringa Knaninja Knurrendora”; and finally the most sacred water ceremony of all is the “Kwatje Tjuringa Altjerra Knaninja Knurrendora.”

As a typical illustration we shall discuss the “Illiya Tjuringa” or Great Emu Ceremony of the eastern Arunndta groups. The date of the performance is decided by the senior emu “brother” of the tribe, the oldest member who claims to be related to the Illiya Knaninja. Somewhat extensive preparations are made beginning a few days prior to the opening event. Only fully initiated men take part, but the women are allowed to witness certain of the most awe-inspiring stages from a distance. Whilst the younger men are out collecting leaves, out of which they make the down later to adorn the bodies of the performers, the older men prepare the sacred ground. Others slay a number of brown hawks, off which they pull the feathers and then pluck the down. A suitable site having been selected, the old men clear it by removing all grass and bush from the surface and smoothing the sand with their feet. The “brothers” who claim relationship alike to the great Emu-Man, the Emu-Knaninja, and the emu itself, thereupon proceed to anoint the sacred ground with their blood, for which purpose they puncture the median basilic vein of the forearm with a quartzite chip and allow the fluid of kinship to sprinkle upon the sand. It is surprising to see the amount of blood sacrificed by the men on occasions like this; and time after time, when such is required, the process is repeated. By examining the forearms of an old stager, one can usually count a number of small scars along the course of a vein indicating places where a perforation has at different times been made. A venesection is made after much the same manner among the various tribes.

The following Arunndta method will serve as an example. A ligature of hair-string is in the first place tied tightly round the upper arm, a little above the biceps muscle, after the style of a tourniquet to check the flow of blood in the veins and thereby distend the vessels. The man then makes a small longitudinal cut through the skin and punctures the vein beneath it lengthwise; the blood spurts forth immediately and is collected in the handle-pit of a shield. When the flow is to be stopped, the native removes the ligature, and this in most cases is all that is needed. Should, however, the blood continue to come, he places a small amount of down over the incision and presses it against the vein, or winds three or four strands of fur-string around it. The little pad of down is usually left on the arm until it dries and falls off. None of the women are allowed to witness this operation, which is called “Ilgarukna.” The blood, when it is to be used as an adhesive for the down-decoration, is applied with a small brush (“ipinja”) made of twigs tied together with fur-string. Vide Plate XXXIII.

The principal among the emu group is called “Illiyakuta,” and it is he who directs the performance. He takes his followers to a secluded place, such as a clump of timber or down a creek-bed, and there the wooden tjuringas belonging to the ceremony are produced and painted afresh with red ochre and emu fat.

Down is made out of the white, felty leaves and twigs of Kochia bush, which the Arunndta call “kemba.” Small quantities of these are placed upon a flat slab of stone and pounded with a pebble. The fluffy material which results is next mixed and rubbed by hand with powdered kaolin or ochre according to the colour required, the white being known as “wadua,” the red as “wanjerra.”

A sacred object is now constructed which encloses the painted tjuringas and is called the “Tjilbakuta.” It is about three feet high and is made in the following way. The tjuringas are laid one on top of the other and bound together with many lengths of human hair-string, which completely obscure the shape of the separate pieces. A thick layer of the stalks of the kangaroo grass (Anthistiria) is laid around the parcel and kept in position with a few lengths of twine, and then the whole structure is covered with great masses of human hair-string wound spirally from top to bottom. A cylinder results which is decorated with alternate vertical bands of red and white vegetable down. Into the top of this Tjilbakuta one bundle of emu feathers and one of black cockatoo tail-feathers are stuck; and often additional plumes are hung beneath them. The moment the sacred object is completed, the Illiyakuta delegates one of his group to act as its attendant or guardian. For the time being his body is decorated with symmetrically placed, curved ochre bands upon the chest and vertical bands down the arms; at a later stage he ornaments his body more elaborately, prior to taking part in the principal performance; but all the time he remains in his place of hiding beside the Tjilbakuta. Vide Plate XXXIV.

At the sanctified place close by the other men have been stacking firewood at different points to illuminate the proceedings during the evening. Occasionally, too, the Illiyakuta group of men cover a portion of the ground with a coloured emblem of the traditional emu.

Early in the afternoon of the festive day the men who will take part in the ceremony at night begin to prepare themselves. Many of the non-performers help them.

Large quantities of down, both vegetable and birds’, are used to decorate the bodies. The design is shaped much like a cobbler’s apron, extending from the neck down the front to the level of the knees. The greater part of this surface is red, but it is lined with white and split along the centre by two parallel lines of white. The back is not decorated at all. The entire surface of the face, including the eye-lids and beard, is thickly covered with down which is white, except for an oval red patch around the mouth.

The principal attraction, however, of the sacred emu ceremony is the head-dress, which is both elaborate and imposing. To prepare it, the attendant combs back the actor’s hair with his fingers, and interlaces it with stalks of grass and small twigs in such a way that a tall conical structure results right on top of the head. This is made secure and of a uniform exterior by winding much human hair-string around it, at the same time taking in a plume of emu feathers at the apex of the cone. The headgear is completely enveloped in red and white down, extending upwards from the head as alternate vertical bands. The chief emu-man is distinguished by an extra large headdress called the “Illiya Altjerra Kuta”; this measures a good three feet in length, and it embodies, between the apex and the emu plume, deeply enshrouded with hair-string and down, the sacred “Illiya Tjuringa.” Other members who are of the same rank as the “Tjilbakuta” guardian, wear their insignia beneath the emu feathers in the form of a sickle-shaped rod, which carries at each of its points a tuft of white cockatoo feathers. All performers cover their person with a dog-tail appendage which hangs from a thin waistband of human hair-string. And lastly, they all tie bundles of eucalyptus twigs, with the leaves attached, to their legs just above the ankles. If possible, old or half-dried leaves are selected in order that a more pronounced rustling is produced when the men move about; the noise is made to imitate the rustle of the wiry feathers of an emu. Vide Plate XXXV.

At nightfall the Tjilbakuta is removed from the hiding place and planted on the edge of the ensanguined patch. The guardian is thus given an opportunity to slip away and to attend to his ceremonial toilet, which is similar to that of the rest of the Tjilbakuta group. When he returns, the performance is about to begin, and all except he leave the ground.

The stacks of wood are set fire to by invisible hands, and, so soon as the flames flare upwards, the silence is broken by the booming note of a bull-roarer, which is produced some distance off in the bush.

The Tjilbakuta guardian sits beside the object like a statue, with his eyes rivetted to the ground immediately in front of him. From behind him the thud of stamping feet and the rustle of dry leaves announce the coming of the official performers, while from the other side the non-performing members step from the darkness and take up their position by squatting between two fires. When the decorated men come into view, the latter start beating their boomerangs together in perfect time to the stamping of the feet of the advancing actors. They come as a body of five or six rows, one behind the other, each man holding his hands locked behind his back and uttering a deep guttural note resembling a pig’s grunt. The folded hands held over the stern represent the tail, the guttural noise the call of the emu.

The Illiyakuta, wearing the tall Illiya Altjerra Kuta, is in the front row, and he is attended on either side by a Tjilbakuta man. The chief now starts a chant: “Immara janki darrai,” and all the others, including the sitting men, join in; the same is repeated several times. When the two parties are opposite each other, the performers quicken the pace of their stamping and extend their arms sideways, thereby widening their ranks. After this they retreat to behind the Tjilbakuta and one hears a shrill chirping note resembling the cry of a young emu.

The interpretation of this act needs no special elucidation. The decorated performers are those of the tribe’s manhood who, in all matters pertaining to the emu, have a right to communicate, through the Tjilbakuta, with the astral emu ancestor living in the great celestial domain of the ancestral spirits, which is known as “Altjerringa.” They are invoking the benign Knaninja or originator of their particular “totem” species to increase the numbers of emu on earth for the exclusive benefit of their tribe. It is the Illiyakuta who imagines that he receives the favourable response from above, and, when it comes, it is he who imitates the cry of a young emu. It often happens, however, that the chief persuades himself to believe that the Great Spirit had not heeded the appeal, in which case the last-mentioned cry is wanting. The ceremony is repeated time after time.

Altjerringa, it will be observed, is a compound word consisting of “Altjerra,” the Supreme Spirit, and “inga,” a foot or trail. The implied idea is that Altjerringa is the “walk-about” of the spirit ancestors, where they walk, and have always walked, and where the spirits of all tribes-people eventually hope to find their way.

After this act, the performance becomes less restrained and takes more the form of a corrobboree. Some of the men seize firebrands from the burning stacks and hurl them in the direction of the women’s camp. From the moment of the sounding of the bull-roarer at the beginning of the ceremony until now the women sat huddled together, with their faces buried in their hands, thoroughly cowed by the portentous happenings. When the firebrands come whizzing through the air and crash into the branches of the trees around them, sending sparks flying in all directions, they are almost beyond themselves with fear. But just at this juncture the men call upon them to look towards the festive ground and behold them dancing. In obedience to the order, the women’s fears are dispelled and soon superseded by a noticeable enravishment. They feast their eyes upon the array of manhood in gala dress, and it is not long ere they pick up the rhythm of a dance by beating time to the step. Provided the Tjilbakuta has been removed to a place of secrecy, well out of reach of accidental discovery, the men entreat the women to come up and join in the song. Thus the sublime is eventually reduced to commonplace, and the remainder of the night passes in joviality.

To refer briefly to a vegetable ceremony, we shall select the yam or “Ladjia Tjuringa Knaninja.” The preparations are much the same as those of the emu ceremony. An enclosure is first made in a secluded spot with branches, in the centre of which the “totem” or Knaninja “stick” is erected. Several men immediately set about to decorate it with vegetable down as previously described. The design in this case consists of vertical rows of red circles upon a yellow ochre background. In addition, a large plume of split eagle-hawk feathers is stuck into the top of the stick. All ordinary performers wear conical head-gears or “tdela” made of Cassia twigs, into the apices of which tightly bound bundles of grass stalks (“gortara”) are fixed carrying plumes of emu feathers (“mangalingala”) (Plate XXXVI, 1). Other men have squat, cylindrical bark structures called “elbola” placed over their heads, which are elaborately decorated with vertical coils of human hair-string and coloured down.

One of the principal actors represents the “Kuta Knaninja.” His head-gear consists of two long kutturu, tied together with hair-string and completely covered with gum leaves, the whole being subsequently besmeared with blood and decorated with coloured down. As the assistants are dressing this character, they keep up a chant sounding like “Winni kutcherai.” Vide Plate XXXVI, 2.

The leading figure is the “Ingada Ladjia Knaninja,” who wears a tall vertical head-piece which contains the tjuringa of the Ladjia Knaninja. The tjuringa is, however, not visible, but is covered with pieces of bark, securely tied over it with hair-string, the whole being richly decorated with vertical bands of red and white down.

The Great Spirit of the Yam, called “Knaninja Tjilba Ladjia,” when he leaves Altjerringa, takes up his abode in a cave near Mount Conway, where the tjuringas are kept, but at night, before the fires are lit, he is supposed to come to the ceremonial ground and occupy the decorated “totem” stick described above. During the performance he is surrounded by all the ordinary performers, who are known as “Tjilba Ingarrega,” and are directly under the guidance of the Ingada and Kuta Knaninja.

A group of men who are not decorated sit near one of the fires and sing while the performers are thus encircling the Ladjia stick: