CHAPTER XVII.

Miscellaneous Remarks on the country. On its vegetable productions. On its

climate. On its animal productions. On its natives, etc.

The journals contained in the body of this publication, illustrated by the

map which accompanies it (unfortunately, there is no map accompanying this

etext), are, I conceive, so descriptive of every part of the country known

to us, that little remains to be added beyond a few general observations.

The first impression made on a stranger is certainly favourable. He sees

gently swelling hills connected by vales which possess every beauty that

verdure of trees, and form, simply considered in itself, can produce; but

he looks in vain for those murmuring rills and refreshing springs which

fructify and embellish more happy lands. Nothing like those tributary

streams which feed rivers in other countries are here seen; for when I

speak of the stream at Sydney, I mean only the drain of a morass; and the

river at Rose Hill is a creek of the harbour, which above high water mark

would not in England be called even a brook. Whence the Hawkesbury, the

only fresh water river known to exist in the country, derives its supplies,

would puzzle a transient observer. He sees nothing but torpid unmeaning

ponds (often stagnant and always still, unless agitated by heavy rains)

which communicate with it. Doubtless the springs which arise in Carmarthen

mountains may be said to constitute its source. To cultivate its banks

within many miles of the bed of the stream (except on some elevated

detached spots) will be found impracticable, unless some method be devised

of erecting a mound, sufficient to repel the encroachments of a torrent

which sometimes rises fifty feet above its ordinary level, inundating the

surrounding country in every direction.

The country between the Hawkesbury and Rose Hill is that which I have

hitherto spoken of. When the river is crossed, this prospect soon gives

place to a very different one. The green vales and moderate hills disappear

at the distance of about three miles from the river side, and from Knight

Hill, and Mount Twiss,* the limits which terminate our researches, nothing

but precipices, wilds and deserts, are to be seen. Even these steeps fail

to produce streams. The difficulty of penetrating this country, joined to

the dread of a sudden rise of the Hawkesbury, forbidding all return, has

hitherto prevented our reaching Carmarthen mountains.

[*Look at the Map. (There is no map accompanying this etext)]

Let the reader now cast his eye on the relative situation of Port Jackson.

He will see it cut off from communication with the northward by Broken Bay,

and with the southward by Botany Bay; and what is worse, the whole space

of intervening country yet explored, (except a narrow strip called the

Kangaroo Ground) in both directions, is so bad as to preclude cultivation.

The course of the Hawkesbury will next attract his attention. To the

southward of every part of Botany Bay we have traced this river; but how

much farther in that line it extends we know not. Hence its channel takes a

northerly direction, and finishes its course in Broken Bay, running at

the back of Port Jackson in such a manner as to form the latter into a

peninsula.

The principal question then remaining is, what is the distance between the

head of Botany Bay and the part of the Hawkesbury nearest to it? And is the

intermediate country a good one, or does it lead to one which appearances

indicate to be good? To future adventurers who shall meet with more

encouragement to persevere and discover than I and my fellow wanderer[s]

did, I resign the answer. In the meantime the reader is desired to look

at the remarks on the map (there is no map accompanying this etext), which

were made in the beginning of August 1790, from Pyramid Hill, which bounded

our progress on the southern expedition; when, and when only, this part of

the country has been seen.

It then follows that from Rose Hill to within such a distance of the

Hawkesbury as is protected from its inundations, is the only tract of land

we yet know of, in which cultivation can be carried on for many years

to come. To aim at forming a computation of the distance of time, of the

labour and of the expense, which would attend forming distinct convict

settlements, beyond the bounds I have delineated; or of the difficulty

which would attend a system of communication between such establishments

and Port Jackson, is not intended here.

Until that period shall arrive, the progress of cultivation, when it shall

have once passed Prospect Hill, will probably steal along to the southward,

in preference to the northward, from the superior nature of the country in

that direction, as the remarks inserted in the map will testify.

Such is my statement of a plan which I deem inevitably entailed on the

settlement at Port Jackson. In sketching this outline of it let it not be

objected that I suppose the reader as well acquainted with the respective

names and boundaries of the country as long residence and unwearied

journeying among them, have made the author. To have subjoined perpetual

explanations would have been tedious and disgusting. Familiarity with the

relative positions of a country can neither be imparted, or acquired, but

by constant recurrence to geographic delineations.

On the policy of settling, with convicts only, a country at once so

remote and extensive, I shall offer no remarks. Whenever I have heard this

question agitated, since my return to England, the cry of, "What can we do

with them! Where else can they be sent!" has always silenced me.

Of the soil, opinions have not differed widely. A spot eminently

fruitful has never been discovered. That there are many spots cursed with

everlasting and unconquerable sterility no one who has seen the country

will deny. At the same time I am decidedly of opinion that many large

tracts of land between Rose Hill and the Hawkesbury, even now, are of a

nature sufficiently favourable to produce moderate crops of whatever may

be sown in them. And provided a sufficient number of cattle* be imported to

afford manure for dressing the ground, no doubt can exist that subsistence

for a limited number of inhabitants may be drawn from it. To imperfect

husbandry, and dry seasons, must indubitably be attributed part of the

deficiency of former years. Hitherto all our endeavours to derive advantage

from mixing the different soils have proved fruitless, though possibly only

from want of skill on our side.

[*In my former narrative I have particularly noticed the sudden

disappearance of the cattle, which we had brought with us into the country.

Not a trace of them has ever since been observed. Their fate is a riddle,

so difficult of solution that I shall not attempt it. Surely had they

strayed inland, in some of our numerous excursions, marks of them must have

been found. It is equally impossible to believe that either the convicts or

natives killed and ate them, without some sign of detection ensuing.]

The spontaneous productions of the soil will be soon recounted. Every part

of the country is a forest: of the quality of the wood take the following

instance. The 'Supply' wanted wood for a mast, and more than forty of the

choicest young trees were cut down before as much wood as would make it

could be procured, the trees being either rotten at the heart or riven by

the gum which abounds in them. This gum runs not always in a longitudinal

direction in the body of the tree, but is found in it in circles, like a

scroll. There is however, a species of light wood which is found excellent

for boat building, but it is scarce and hardly ever found of large size.

To find limestone many of our researches were directed. But after repeated

assays with fire and chemical preparations on all the different sorts of

stone to be picked up, it is still a desideratum. Nor did my experiments

with a magnet induce me to think that any of the stones I tried contained

iron. I have, however, heard other people report very differently on this

head.

The list of esculent vegetables, and wild fruits is too contemptible

to deserve notice, if the 'sweet tea' whose virtues have been already

recorded, and the common orchis root be excepted. That species of palm tree

which produces the mountain cabbage is also found in most of the freshwater

swamps, within six or seven miles of the coast. But is rarely seen farther

inland. Even the banks of the Hawkesbury are unprovided with it. The inner

part of the trunk of this tree was greedily eaten by our hogs, and

formed their principal support. The grass, as has been remarked in former

publications, does not overspread the land in a continued sward, but arises

in small detached tufts, growing every way about three inches apart, the

intermediate space being bare; though the heads of the grass are often so

luxuriant as to hide all deficiency on the surface. The rare and beautiful

flowering shrubs, which abound in every part, deserve the highest

admiration and panegyric.

Of the vegetable productions transplanted from other climes, maize

flourishes beyond any other grain. And as it affords a strong and nutritive

article of food, its propagation will, I think, altogether supersede that

of wheat and barley.

Horticulture has been attended in some places with tolerable success. At

Rose Hill I have seen gardens which, without the assistance of manure, have

continued for a short time to produce well grown vegetables. But at Sydney,

without constantly dressing the ground, it was in vain to expect them; and

with it a supply of common vegetables might be procured by diligence in

all seasons. Vines of every sort seem to flourish. Melons, cucumbers and

pumpkins run with unbounded luxuriancy, and I am convinced that the grapes

of New South Wales will, in a few years, equal those of any other country.

'That their juice will probably hereafter furnish an indispensable article

of luxury at European tables', has already been predicted in the vehemence

of speculation. Other fruits are yet in their infancy; but oranges, lemons

and figs, (of which last indeed I have eaten very good ones) will, I dare

believe, in a few years become plentiful. Apples and the fruits of colder

climes also promise to gratify expectation. The banana-tree has been

introduced from Norfolk Island, where it grows spontaneously.

Nor will this surprise, if the genial influence of the climate be

considered. Placed in a latitude where the beams of the sun in the

dreariest season are sufficiently powerful for many hours of the day to

dispense warmth and nutrition, the progress of vegetation never is at a

stand. The different temperatures of Rose Hill and Sydney in winter, though

only twelve miles apart, afford, however, curious matter of speculation.

Of a well attested instance of ice being seen at the latter place, I never

heard. At the former place its production is common, and once a few flakes

of snow fell. The difference can be accounted for only by supposing that

the woods stop the warm vapours of the sea from reaching Rose Hill, which

is at the distance of sixteen miles inland; whereas Sydney is but four.*

Again, the heats of summer are more violent at the former place than at the

latter, and the variations incomparably quicker. The thermometer has been

known to alter at Rose Hill, in the course of nine hours, more than 50

degrees; standing a little before sunrise at 50 degrees, and between one

and two at more than 100 degrees. To convey an idea of the climate in

summer, I shall transcribe from my meteorological journal, accounts of two

particular days which were the hottest we ever suffered under at Sydney.

[*Look at the journal which describes the expedition in search of the

river, said to exist to the southward of Rose Hill. At the time we felt

that extraordinary degree of cold were not more than six miles south west

of Rose Hill, and about nineteen miles from the the sea coast. When I

mentioned this circumstance to colonel Gordon, at the Cape of Good Hope, he

wondered at it; and owned, that, in his excursions into the interior parts

of Africa, he had never experienced anything to match it: he attributed

its production to large beds of nitre, which he said must exist in the

neighbourhood.]

December 27th 1790. Wind NNW; it felt like the blast of a heated oven, and

in proportion as it increased the heat was found to be more intense, the

sky hazy, the sun gleaming through at intervals.

At 9 a.m. 85 degrees

At noon 104

Half past twelve 107 1/2

From one p.m. until 20

minutes past two 108 1/2

At 20 minutes past two 109

At Sunset 89

At 11 p.m. 78 1/2

[By a large Thermometer made by Ramsden, and graduated on Fahrenheit's

scale.]

December 28th.

At 8 a.m. 86

10 a.m. 93

11 a.m. 101

At noon 103 1/2

Half an hour past noon 104 1/2

At one p.m. 102

At 5 p.m. 73

At sunset 69 1/2

[At a quarter past one, it stood at only 89 degrees, having, from a sudden

shift of wind, fallen 13 degrees in 15 minutes.]

My observations on this extreme heat, succeeded by so rapid a change, were

that of all animals, man seemed to bear it best. Our dogs, pigs and fowls,

lay panting in the shade, or were rushing into the water. I remarked that a

hen belonging to me, which had sat for a fortnight, frequently quitted

her eggs, and shewed great uneasiness, but never remained from them many

minutes at one absence; taught by instinct that the wonderful power in the

animal body of generating cold in air heated beyond a certain degree,

was best calculated for the production of her young. The gardens suffered

considerably. All the plants which had not taken deep root were withered by

the power of the sun. No lasting ill effects, however, arose to the

human constitution. A temporary sickness at the stomach, accompanied with

lassitude and headache, attacked many, but they were removed generally in

twenty-four hours by an emetic, followed by an anodyne. During the time it

lasted, we invariably found that the house was cooler than the open air,

and that in proportion as the wind was excluded, was comfort augmented.

But even this heat was judged to be far exceeded in the latter end of the

following February, when the north-west wind again set in, and blew with

great violence for three days. At Sydney, it fell short by one degree

of what I have just recorded: but at Rose Hill, it was allowed, by every

person, to surpass all that they had before felt, either there or in any

other part of the world. Unluckily they had no thermometer to ascertain its

precise height. It must, however, have been intense, from the effects it

produced. An immense flight of bats driven before the wind, covered all the

trees around the settlement, whence they every moment dropped dead or in a

dying state, unable longer to endure the burning state of the atmosphere.

Nor did the 'perroquettes', though tropical birds, bear it better. The

ground was strewn with them in the same condition as the bats.

Were I asked the cause of this intolerable heat, I should not hesitate to

pronounce that it was occasioned by the wind blowing over immense deserts,

which, I doubt not, exist in a north-west direction from Port Jackson, and

not from fires kindled by the natives. This remark I feel necessary, as

there were methods used by some persons in the colony, both for estimating

the degree of heat and for ascertaining the cause of its production, which

I deem equally unfair and unphilosophical. The thermometer, whence my

observations were constantly made, was hung in the open air in a southern

aspect, never reached by the rays of the sun, at the distance of several

feet above the ground.

My other remarks on the climate will be short. It is changeable beyond any

other I ever heard of; but no phenomena sufficiently accurate to reckon

upon, are found to indicate the approach of alteration. Indeed, for the

first eighteen months that we lived in the country, changes were supposed

to take place more commonly at the quartering of the moon than at other

times. But lunar empire afterwards lost its credit. For the last two years

and a half of our residing at Port Jackson, its influence was unperceived.

Three days together seldom passed without a necessity occurring for

lighting a fire in an evening. A 'habit d'ete', or a 'habit de demi

saison', would be in the highest degree absurd. Clouds, storms and sunshine

pass in rapid succession. Of rain, we found in general not a sufficiency,

but torrents of water sometimes fall. Thunder storms, in summer, are common

and very tremendous, but they have ceased to alarm, from rarely causing

mischief. Sometimes they happen in winter. I have often seen large

hailstones fall. Frequent strong breezes from the westward purge the air.

These are almost invariably attended with a hard clear sky. The easterly

winds, by setting in from the sea, bring thick weather and rain, except

in summer, when they become regular sea-breezes. The 'aurora australis' is

sometimes seen, but is not distinguished by superior brilliancy.

To sum up: notwithstanding the inconveniences which I have enumerated, I

will venture to assert in few words, that no climate hitherto known is more

generally salubrious*, or affords more days on which those pleasures which

depend on the state of the atmosphere can be enjoyed, than that of New

South Wales. The winter season is particularly delightful.

[*To this cause, I ascribe the great number of births which happened,

considering the age and other circumstances, of many of the mothers. Women

who certainly would never have bred in any other climate here produced as

fine children as ever were born.]

The leading animal production is well known to be the kangaroo. The natural

history of this animal will, probably, be written from observations made

upon it in England, as several living ones of both sexes, have been brought

home. Until such an account shall appear, probably the following desultory

observation may prove acceptable.

The genus in which the kangaroo is to be classed I leave to better

naturalists than myself to determine. How it copulates, those who pretend

to have seen disagree in their accounts: nor do we know how long the period

of gestation lasts. Prolific it cannot be termed, bringing forth only one

at a birth, which the dam carries in her pouch wherever she goes until the

young one be enabled to provide for itself; and even then, in the moment

of alarm, she will stop to receive and protect it. We have killed

she-kangaroos whose pouches contained young ones completely covered with

fur and of more than fifteen pounds weight, which had ceased to suck and

afterwards were reared by us. In what space of time it reaches such a

growth as to be abandoned entirely by the mother, we are ignorant. It is

born blind, totally bald, the orifice of the ear closed and only just the

centre of the mouth open, but a black score, denoting what is hereafter to

form the dimension of the mouth, is marked very distinctly on each side

of the opening. At its birth, the kangaroo (notwithstanding it weighs when

full grown 200 pounds) is not so large as a half-grown mouse. I brought

some with me to England even less, which I took from the pouches of the old

ones. This phenomenon is so striking and so contrary to the general laws of

nature, that an opinion has been started that the animal is brought forth

not by the pudenda, but descends from the belly into the pouch by one of

the teats, which are there deposited. On this difficulty as I can throw

no light, I shall hazard no conjecture. It may, however, be necessary

to observe that the teats are several inches long and capable of great

dilatation. And here I beg leave to correct an error which crept into my

former publication wherein I asserted that, "the teats of the kangaroo

never exceed two in number." They sometimes, though rarely, amount to four.

There is great reason to believe that they are slow of growth and live many

years. This animal has a clavicle, or collar-bone, similar to that of the

human body. The general colour of the kangaroo is very like that of the

ass, but varieties exist. Its shape and figure are well known by the

plates which have been given of it. The elegance of the ear is particularly

deserving of admiration. This far exceeds the ear of the hare in quickness

of sense and is so flexible as to admit of being turned by the animal

nearly quite round the head, doubtless for the purpose of informing the

creature of the approach of its enemies, as it is of a timid nature, and

poorly furnished with means of defence; though when compelled to resist, it

tears furiously with its forepaws, and strikes forward very hard with

its hind legs. Notwithstanding its unfavourable conformation for such a

purpose, its swims strongly; but never takes to the water unless so hard

pressed by its pursuers as to be left without all other refuge. The noise

they make is a faint bleat, querulous, but not easy to describe. They are

sociable animals and unite in droves, sometimes to the number of fifty

or sixty together; when they are seen playful and feeding on grass, which

alone forms their food. At such time they move gently about like all other

quadrupeds, on all fours; but at the slightest noise they spring up on

their hind legs and sit erect, listening to what it may proceed from, and

if it increases they bound off on those legs only, the fore ones at the

same time being carried close to the breast like the paws of a monkey;

and the tail stretched out, acts as a rudder on a ship. In drinking, the

kangaroo laps. It is remarkable that they are never found in a fat state,

being invariably lean. Of the flesh we always eat with avidity, but in

Europe it would not be reckoned a delicacy. A rank flavour forms the

principal objection to it. The tail is accounted the most delicious part,

when stewed.

Hitherto I have spoken only of the large, or grey kangaroo, to which

the natives give the name of 'patagaran'.* But there are (besides the

kangaroo-rat) two other sorts. One of them we called the red kangaroo,

from the colour of its fur, which is like that of a hare, and sometimes is

mingled with a large portion of black: the natives call it 'bagaray'. It

rarely attains to more than forty pounds weight. The third sort is

very rare, and in the formation of its head resembles the opossum. The

kangaroo-rat is a small animal, never reaching, at its utmost growth, more

than fourteen or fifteen pounds, and its usual size is not above seven

or eight pounds. It joins to the head and bristles of a rat the leading

distinctions of a kangaroo, by running when pursued on its hind legs only,

and the female having a pouch. Unlike the kangaroo, who appears to have no

fixed place of residence, this little animal constructs for itself a

nest of grass, on the ground, of a circular figure, about ten inches in

diameter, with a hole on one side for the creature to enter at; the inside

being lined with a finer sort of grass, very soft and downy. But its manner

of carrying the materials with which it builds the nest is the greatest

curiosity: by entwining its tail (which, like that of all the kangaroo

tribe, is long, flexible and muscular) around whatever it wants to remove,

and thus dragging along the load behind it. This animal is good to eat; but

whether it be more prolific at a birth than the kangaroo, I know not.

[*kangaroo was a name unknown to them for any animal, until we introduced

it. When I showed Colbee the cows brought out in the Gorgon, he asked me if

they were kangaroos.]

The Indians sometimes kill the kangaroo; but their greatest destroyer is

the wild dog,* who feeds on them. Immediately on hearing or seeing this

formidable enemy, the kangaroo flies to the thickest cover, in which, if

he can involve himself, he generally escapes. In running to the cover, they

always, if possible, keep in paths of their own forming, to avoid the high

grass and stumps of trees which might be sticking up among it to wound them

and impede their course.

[*I once found in the woods the greatest part of a kangaroo just killed by

the dogs, which afforded to three of us a most welcome repast. Marks of its

turns and struggles on the ground were very visible. This happened in the

evening, and the dogs probably had seen us approach and had run away. At

daylight next morning they saluted us with most dreadful howling for the

loss of their prey.]

Our methods of killing them were but two; either we shot them, or hunted

them with greyhounds. We were never able to ensnare them. Those sportsmen

who relied on the gun seldom met with success, unless they slept near

covers, into which the kangaroos were wont to retire at night, and watched

with great caution and vigilance when the game, in the morning, sallied

forth to feed. They were, however, sometimes stolen in upon in the day-time

and that fascination of the eye, which has been by some authors so much

insisted upon, so far acts on the kangaroo that if he fixes his eye upon

any one, and no other object move at the same time, he will often continue

motionless, in stupid gaze, while the sportsman advances with measured

step, towards him, until within reach of his gun. The greyhounds for a long

time were incapable of taking them; but with a brace of dogs, if not near

cover a kangaroo almost always falls, since the greyhounds have acquired

by practice the proper method of fastening upon them. Nevertheless the dogs

are often miserably torn by them. The rough wiry greyhound suffers least in

the conflict, and is most prized by the hunters.

Other quadrupeds, besides the wild dog, consist only of the flying

squirrel, of three kinds of opossums and some minute animals, usually

marked by the distinction which so peculiarly characterizes the opossum

tribe. The rats, soon after our landing, became not only numerous but

formidable, from the destruction they occasioned in the stores. Latterly

they had almost disappeared, though to account for their absence were not

easy. The first time Colbee saw a monkey, he called 'wurra' (a rat); but on

examining its paws he exclaimed with astonishment and affright, 'mulla' (a

man).

At the head of the birds the cassowary or emu, stands conspicuous. The

print of it which has already been given to the public is so accurate for

the most part, that it would be malignant criticism in a work of this kind

to point out a few trifling defects.

Here again naturalists must look forward to that information which longer

and more intimate knowledge of the feathered tribe than I can supply, shall

appear. I have nevertheless had the good fortune to see what was never seen

but once, in the country I am describing, by Europeans--a hatch, or flock,

of young cassowaries with the old bird. I counted ten, but others said

there were twelve. We came suddenly upon them, and they ran up a hill

exactly like a flock of turkeys, but so fast that we could not get a shot

at them. The largest cassowary ever killed in the settlement, weighed

ninety-four pounds. Three young ones, which had been by accident separated

from the dam, were once taken and presented to the governor. They were not

larger than so many pullets, although at first sight they appeared to be

so from the length of their necks and legs. They were very beautifully

striped, and from their tender state were judged to be not more than three

or four days old. They lived only a few days.

A single egg, the production of a cassowary, was picked up in a desert

place, dropped on the sand, without covering or protection of any kind.

Its form was nearly a perfect ellipsis; and the colour of the shell a dark

green, full of little indents on its surface. It measured eleven inches and

a half in circumference, five inches and a quarter in height, and weighed a

pound and a quarter. Afterwards we had the good fortune to take a nest. It

was found by a soldier in a sequestered solitary situation, made in a patch

of lofty fern about three feet in diameter, rather of an oblong shape and

composed of dry leaves and tops of fern stalks, very inartificially put

together. The hollow in which lay the eggs, twelve in number, seemed made

solely by the pressure of the bird. The eggs were regularly placed in the

following position.

O

O O O

O O O O O

O O O

The soldier, instead of greedily plundering his prize, communicated the

discovery to an officer, who immediately set out for the spot. When they

had arrived there they continued for a long time to search in vain for

their object, and the soldier was just about to be stigmatized with

ignorance, credulity or imposture, when suddenly up started the old bird

and the treasure was found at their feet.

The food of the cassowary is either grass, or a yellow bell-flower growing

in the swamps. It deserves remark, that the natives deny the cassowary to

be a bird, because it does not fly.

Of other birds the varieties are very numerous. Of the parrot tribe alone

I could, while I am writing, count up from memory fourteen different sorts.

Hawks are very numerous, so are quails. A single snipe has been shot.

Ducks, geese and other aquatic birds are often seen in large flocks, but

are universally so shy, that it is found difficult to shoot them. Some

of the smaller birds are very beautiful, but they are not remarkable for

either sweetness, or variety of notes. To one of them, not bigger than

a tomtit, we have given the name of coach-whip, from its note exactly

resembling the smack of a whip. The country, I am of opinion, would abound

with birds did not the natives, by perpetually setting fire to the grass

and bushes, destroy the greater part of the nests; a cause which also

contributes to render small quadrupeds scarce. They are besides ravenously

fond of eggs and eat them wherever they find them. They call the roe of a

fish and a bird's egg by one name.

So much has been said of the abundance in which fish are found in the

harbours of New South Wales that it looks like detraction to oppose a

contradiction. Some share of knowledge may, however, be supposed to belong

to experience. Many a night have I toiled (in the times of distress) on the

public service, from four o'clock in the afternoon until eight o'clock next

morning, hauling the seine in every part of the harbour of Port Jackson:

and after a circuit of many miles and between twenty and thirty hauls,

seldom more than a hundred pounds of fish were taken. However, it

sometimes happens that a glut enters the harbour, and for a few days they

sufficiently abound. But the universal voice of all professed fishermen

is that they never fished in a country where success was so precarious and

uncertain.

I shall not pretend to enumerate the variety of fish which are found. They

are seen from a whale to a gudgeon. In the intermediate classes may be

reckoned sharks of a monstrous size, skait, rock-cod, grey-mullet, bream,

horse-mackarel, now and then a sole and john dory, and innumerable others

unknown in Europe, many of which are extremely delicious, and many highly

beautiful. At the top of the list, as an article of food, stands a fish,

which we named light-horseman. The relish of this excellent fish was

increased by our natives, who pointed out to us its delicacies. No epicure

in England could pick a head with more glee and dexterity than they do that

of a light-horseman.

Reptiles in the swamps and covers are numerous. Of snakes there are two

or three sorts: but whether the bite of any of them be mortal, or even

venomous, is somewhat doubtful. I know but of one well attested instance

of a bite being received from a snake. A soldier was bitten so as to draw

blood, and the wound healed as a simple incision usually does without

shewing any symptom of malignity. A dog was reported to be bitten by a

snake, and the animal swelled and died in great agony. But I will by no

means affirm that the cause of his death was fairly ascertained. It is,

however, certain that the natives show, on all occasions, the utmost horror

of the snake, and will not eat it, although they esteem lizards, goannas,

and many other reptiles delicious fare. On this occasion they always

observe that if the snake bites them, they become lame, but whether by this

they mean temporary or lasting lameness I do not pretend to determine.

I have often eaten snakes and always found them palatable and nutritive,

though it was difficult to stew them to a tender state.

Summer here, as in all other countries, brings with it a long list of

insects. In the neighborhood of rivers and morasses, mosquitoes and

sandflies are never wanting at any season, but at Sydney they are seldom

numerous or troublesome. The most nauseous and destructive of all the

insects is a fly which blows not eggs but large living maggots, and if

the body of the fly be opened it is found full of them. Of ants there are

several sorts, one of which bites very severely. The white ant is

sometimes seen. Spiders are large and numerous. Their webs are not only the

strongest, but the finest, and most silky I ever felt. I have often thought

their labour might be turned to advantage. It has, I believe, been proved

that spiders, were it not for their quarrelsome disposition which irritates

them to attack and destroy each other, might be employed more profitably

than silk-worms.

The hardiness of some of the insects deserves to be mentioned. A beetle was

immersed in proof spirits for four hours, and when taken out crawled away

almost immediately. It was a second time immersed, and continued in a glass

of rum for a day and a night, at the expiration of which period it still

showed symptoms of life. Perhaps, however, what I from ignorance deem

wonderful is common.

*****

The last but the most important production yet remains to be considered.

Whether plodding in London, reeking with human blood in Paris or wandering

amidst the solitary wilds of New South Wales--Man is ever an object of

interest, curiosity and reflection.

The natives around Port Jackson are in person rather more diminutive and

slighter made, especially about the thighs and legs, than the Europeans. It

is doubtful whether their society contained a person of six feet high. The

tallest I ever measured, reached five feet eleven inches, and men of his

height were rarely seen. Baneelon, who towered above the majority of his

countrymen, stood barely five feet eight inches high. His other principal

dimensions were as follows:

Girth of the Chest. 2 feet 10 inches

Girth of the Belly. 2 feet 6 1/2 inches

Girth of the Thigh. 18 1/8 inches

Girth of the Leg at the Calf. 12 1/8 inches

Girth of the Leg at the Small. 10 inches

Girth of arm half way between

the shoulder and elbow. 9 inches

Instances of natural deformity are scarce, nor did we ever see one of them

left-handed. They are, indeed, nearly ambidexter; but the sword, the spear

and the fish-gig are always used with the right hand. Their muscular force

is not great; but the pliancy of their limbs renders them very active.

"Give to civilized man all his machines, and he is superior to the savage;

but without these, how inferior is he found on opposition, even more so

than the savage in the first instance." These are the words of Rousseau,

and like many more of his positions must be received with limitation. Were

an unarmed Englishman and an unarmed New Hollander to engage, the latter, I

think, would fall.

Mr. Cook seems inclined to believe the covering of their heads to be wool.

But this is erroneous. It is certainly hair, which when regularly combed

becomes soon nearly as flexible and docile as our own. Their teeth are not

so white and good as those generally found in Indian nations, except in the

children, but the inferiority originates in themselves. They bite sticks,

stones, shells and all other hard substances, indiscriminately with them,

which quickly destroys the enamel and gives them a jagged and uneven

appearance. A high forehead, with prominent overhanging eyebrows, is

their leading characteristic, and when it does not operate to destroy all

openness of countenance gives an air of resolute dignity to the aspect,

which recommends, in spite of a true negro nose, thick lips, and a wide

mouth. The prominent shin bone, so invariably found in the Africans, is

not, however, seen. But in another particular they are more alike. The

rank offensive smell which disgusts so much in the negro, prevails strongly

among them when they are in their native state, but it wears off in those

who have resided with us and have been taught habits of cleanliness. Their

hands and feet are small*, especially the former.

[*I mentioned this, among other circumstances, to colonel Gordon when I

was at the Cape, and he told me that it indicated poverty and inadequacy

of living. He instanced to me the Hottentots and Caffres. The former fare

poorly, and have small hands and feet. The Caffres, their neighbours, live

plenteously and have very large ones. This remark cannot be applied to

civilized nations, where so many factitious causes operate.]

Their eyes are full, black and piercing, but the almost perpetual strain in

which the optic nerve is kept, by looking out for prey, renders their sight

weak at an earlier age than we in general find ours affected. These large

black eyes are universally shaded by the long thick sweepy eyelash, so much

prized in appreciating beauty, that, perhaps hardly any face is so homely

which this aid cannot in some degree render interesting; and hardly any so

lovely which, without it, bears not some trace of insipidity. Their tone

of voice is loud, but not harsh. I have in some of them found it very

pleasing.

Longevity, I think, is seldom attained by them. Unceasing agitation wears

out the animal frame and is unfriendly to length of days. We have seen them

grey with age, but not old; perhaps never beyond sixty years. But it may be

said, the American Indian, in his undebauched state, lives to an advanced

period. True, but he has his seasons of repose. He reaps his little harvest

of maize and continues in idleness while it lasts. He kills the roebuck or

the moose-deer, which maintains him and his family for many days, during

which cessation the muscles regain their spring and fit him for fresh

toils. Whereas every sun awakes the native of New South Wales (unless

a whale be thrown upon the coast) to a renewal of labour, to provide

subsistence for the present day.

The women are proportionally smaller than the men. I never measured but two

of them, who were both, I think, about the medium height. One of them, a

sister of Baneelon, stood exactly five feet two inches high. The other,

named Gooreedeeana, was shorter by a quarter of an inch.

But I cannot break from Gooreedeeana so abruptly. She belonged to the tribe

of Cameragal, and rarely came among us. One day, however, she entered my

house to complain of hunger. She excelled in beauty all their females

I ever saw. Her age about eighteen, the firmness, the symmetry and the

luxuriancy of her bosom might have tempted painting to copy its charms.

Her mouth was small and her teeth, though exposed to all the destructive

purposes to which they apply them, were white, sound and unbroken. Her

countenance, though marked by some of the characteristics of her native

land, was distinguished by a softness and sensibility unequalled in the

rest of her countrywomen, and I was willing to believe that these traits

indicated the disposition of her mind. I had never before seen this elegant

timid female, of whom I had often heard; but the interest I took in her

led me to question her about her husband and family. She answered me

by repeating a name which I have now forgotten, and told me she had no

children. I was seized with a strong propensity to learn whether the

attractions of Gooreedeeana were sufficiently powerful to secure her from

the brutal violence with which the women are treated, and as I found my

question either ill understood or reluctantly answered, I proceeded to

examine her head, the part on which the husband's vengeance generally

alights. With grief I found it covered by contusions and mangled by scars.

The poor creature, grown by this time more confident from perceiving that I

pitied her, pointed out a wound just above her left knee which she told me

was received from a spear, thrown at her by a man who had lately dragged

her by force from her home to gratify his lust. I afterwards observed that

this wound had caused a slight lameness and that she limped in walking. I

could only compassionate her wrongs and sympathize in her misfortunes. To

alleviate her present sense of them, when she took her leave I gave her,

however, all the bread and salt pork which my little stock afforded.

After this I never saw her but once, when I happened to be near the

harbour's mouth in a boat, with captain Ball. We met her in a canoe with

several more of her sex. She was painted for a ball, with broad stripes of

white earth, from head to foot, so that she no longer looked like the same

Gooreedeeana. We offered her several presents, all of which she readily

accepted; but finding our eagerness and solicitude to inspect her, she

managed her canoe with such address as to elude our too near approach, and

acted the coquet to admiration.

To return from this digression to my subject, I have only farther to

observe that the estimation of female beauty among the natives (the men at

least) is in this country the same as in most others. Were a New Hollander

to portray his mistress, he would draw her the 'Venus aux belles fesses'.

Whenever Baneelon described to us his favourite fair, he always painted her

in this, and another particular, as eminently luxuriant.

Unsatisfied, however, with natural beauty (like the people of all

other countries) they strive by adscititious embellishments to heighten

attraction, and often with as little success. Hence the naked savage of New

South Wales pierces the septum of his nose, through which he runs a

stick or a bone, and scarifies his body, the charms of which increase

in proportion to the number and magnitude of seams by which it is

distinguished. The operation is performed by making two longitudinal

incisions with a sharpened shell, and afterwards pinching up with the

nails the intermediate space of skin and flesh, which thereby becomes

considerably elevated and forms a prominence as thick as a man's finger.

No doubt but pain must be severely felt until the wound be healed. But the

love of ornament defies weaker considerations, and no English beau can bear

more stoutly the extraction of his teeth to make room for a fresh set from

a chimney sweeper, or a fair one suffer her tender ears to be perforated,

with more heroism than the grisly nymphs on the banks of Port Jackson,

submit their sable shoulders to the remorseless lancet.

That these scarifications are intended solely to increase personal

allurement I will not, however, positively affirm. Similar, perhaps, to the

cause of an excision of part of the little finger of the left hand in

the women, and of a front tooth in the men;* or probably after all our

conjectures, superstitious ceremonies by which they hope either to avert

evil or to propagate good, are intended. The colours with which they

besmear the bodies of both sexes possibly date from the same common origin.

White paint is strictly appropriate to the dance. Red seems to be used on

numberless occasions, and is considered as a colour of less consequence.

It may be remarked that they translate the epithet white when they speak of

us, not by the name which they assign to this white earth, but by that with

which they distinguish the palms of their hands.

[*It is to be observed that neither of these ceremonies is universal, but

nearly so. Why there should exist exemptions I cannot resolve. The manner

of executing them is as follows. The finger is taken off by means of a

ligature (generally a sinew of a kangaroo) tied so tight as to stop the

circulation of the blood, which induces mortification and the part drops

off. I remember to have seen Colbee's child, when about a month old, on

whom this operation had been just performed by her mother. The little

wretch seemed in pain, and her hand was greatly swelled. But this was

deemed too trifling a consideration to deserve regard in a case of so much

importance.

The tooth intended to be taken out is loosened by the gum being scarified

on both sides with a sharp shell. The end of a stick is then applied to the

tooth, which is struck gently several times with a stone, until it becomes

easily moveable, when the 'coup de grace' is given by a smart stroke.

Notwithstanding these precautions, I have seen a considerable degree of

swelling and inflammation follow the extraction. Imeerawanyee, I remember,

suffered severely. But he boasted the firmness and hardihood with which he

had endured it. It is seldom performed on those who are under sixteen years

old.]

As this leads to an important subject I shall at once discuss it. "Have

these people any religion: any knowledge of, or belief in a deity?--any

conception of the immortality of the soul?" are questions which have been

often put to me since my arrival in England: I shall endeavour to answer

them with candour and seriousness.

Until belief be enlightened by revelation and chastened by reason,

religion and superstition, are terms of equal import. One of our earliest

impressions is the consciousness of a superior power. The various forms

under which this impression has manifested itself are objects of the most

curious speculation.

The native of New South Wales believes that particular aspects and

appearances of the heavenly bodies predict good or evil consequences to

himself and his friends. He oftentimes calls the sun and moon 'weeree,'

that is, malignant, pernicious. Should he see the leading fixed stars (many

of which he can call by name) obscured by vapours, he sometimes disregards

the omen, and sometimes draws from it the most dreary conclusions. I

remember Abaroo running into a room where a company was assembled, and

uttering frightful exclamations of impending mischiefs about to light on

her and her countrymen. When questioned on the cause of such agitation she

went to the door and pointed to the skies, saying that whenever the stars

wore that appearance, misfortunes to the natives always followed. The night

was cloudy and the air disturbed by meteors. I have heard many more of them

testify similar apprehensions.

However involved in darkness and disfigured by error such a belief be, no

one will, I presume, deny that it conveys a direct implication of superior

agency; of a power independent of and uncontrolled by those who are the

objects of its vengeance. But proof stops not here. When they hear the

thunder roll and view the livid glare, they flee them not, but rush out and

deprecate destruction. They have a dance and a song appropriated to this

awful occasion, which consist of the wildest and most uncouth noises and

gestures. Would they act such a ceremony did they not conceive that either

the thunder itself, or he who directs the thunder, might be propitiated by

its performance? That a living intellectual principle exists, capable of

comprehending their petition and of either granting or denying it? They

never address prayers to bodies which they know to be inanimate, either

to implore their protection or avert their wrath. When the gum-tree in a

tempest nods over them; or the rock overhanging the cavern in which they

sleep threatens by its fall to crush them, they calculate (as far as their

knowledge extends) on physical principles, like other men, the nearness and

magnitude of the danger, and flee it accordingly. And yet there is reason

to believe that from accidents of this nature they suffer more than from

lightning. Baneelon once showed us a cave, the top of which had fallen in

and buried under its ruins, seven people who were sleeping under it.

To descend; is not even the ridiculous superstition of Colbee related in

one of our journies to the Hawkesbury? And again the following instance.

Abaroo was sick. To cure her, one of her own sex slightly cut her on the

forehead, in a perpendicular direction with an oyster shell, so as just to

fetch blood. She then put one end of a string to the wound and, beginning

to sing, held the other end to her own gums, which she rubbed until they

bled copiously. This blood she contended was the blood of the patient,

flowing through the string, and that she would thereby soon recover. Abaroo

became well, and firmly believed that she owed her cure to the treatment

she had received. Are not these, I say, links, subordinate ones indeed,

of the same golden chain? He who believes in magic confesses supernatural

agency, and a belief of this sort extends farther in many persons than they

are willing to allow. There have lived men so inconsistent with their own

principles as to deny the existence of a God, who have nevertheless turned

pale at the tricks of a mountebank.

But not to multiply arguments on a subject where demonstration (at least to

me) is incontestable, I shall close by expressing my firm belief that the

Indians of New South Wales acknowledge the existence of a superintending

deity. Of their ideas of the origin and duration of his existence; of

his power and capacity; of his benignity or maleficence; or of their own

emanation from him, I pretend not to speak. I have often, in common with

others, tried to gain information from them on this head; but we were

always repulsed by obstacles which we could neither pass by or surmount.

Mr. Dawes attempted to teach Abaroo some of our notions of religion, and

hoped that she would thereby be induced to communicate hers in return.

But her levity and love of play in a great measure defeated his efforts,

although every thing he did learn from her served to confirm what is here

advanced. It may be remarked, that when they attended at church with us

(which was a common practice) they always preserved profound silence and

decency, as if conscious that some religious ceremony on our side was

performing.

The question of, whether they believe in the immortality of the soul

will take up very little time to answer. They are universally fearful

of spirits.* They call a spirit 'mawn'. They often scruple to approach a

corpse, saying that the 'mawn' will seize them and that it fastens upon

them in the night when asleep.** When asked where their deceased friends

are they always point to the skies. To believe in after existence is to

confess the immortality of some part of being. To enquire whether they

assign a 'limited' period to such future state would be superfluous. This

is one of the subtleties of speculation which a savage may be supposed

not to have considered, without impeachment either of his sagacity or

happiness.

[* "It is remarkable," says Cicero, "that there is no nation, whether

barbarous or civilized, that does not believe in the existence of

spirits".]

[**As they often eat to satiety, even to produce sickness, may not this be

the effect of an overloaded stomach: the nightmare?]

Their manner of interring the dead has been amply described. It is certain

that instead of burying they sometimes burn the corpse; but the cause of

distinction we know not. A dead body, covered by a canoe, at whose side

a sword and shield were placed in state, was once discovered. All that we

could learn about this important personage was that he was a 'Gweeagal'

(one of the tribe of Gweea) and a celebrated warrior.

To appreciate their general powers of mind is difficult. Ignorance,

prejudice, the force of habit, continually interfere to prevent

dispassionate judgment. I have heard men so unreasonable as to exclaim at

the stupidity of these people for not comprehending what a small share

of reflection would have taught them they ought not to have expected. And

others again I have heard so sanguine in their admiration as to extol for

proofs of elevated genius what the commonest abilities were capable of

executing.

If they be considered as a nation whose general advancement and

acquisitions are to be weighed, they certainly rank very low, even in the

scale of savages. They may perhaps dispute the right of precedence with the

Hottentots or the shivering tribes who inhabit the shores of Magellan.

But how inferior do they show when compared with the subtle African; the

patient watchful American; or the elegant timid islander of the South

Seas. Though suffering from the vicissitudes of their climate, strangers

to clothing, though feeling the sharpness of hunger and knowing the

precariousness of supply from that element on whose stores they principally

depend, ignorant of cultivating the earth--a less enlightened state we

shall exclaim can hardly exist.

But if from general view we descend to particular inspection, and examine

individually the persons who compose this community, they will certainly

rise in estimation. In the narrative part of this work, I have endeavoured

rather to detail information than to deduce conclusions, leaving to the

reader the exercise of his own judgment. The behaviour of Arabanoo, of

Baneelon, of Colbee and many others is copiously described, and assuredly

he who shall make just allowance for uninstructed nature will hardly accuse

any of those persons of stupidity or deficiency of apprehension.

To offer my own opinion on the subject, I do not hesitate to declare that

the natives of New South Wales possess a considerable portion of that

acumen, or sharpness of intellect, which bespeaks genius. All savages hate

toil and place happiness in inaction, and neither the arts of civilized

life can be practised or the advantages of it felt without application and

labour. Hence they resist knowledge and the adoption of manners and customs

differing from their own. The progress of reason is not only slow, but

mechanical. "De toutes les Instructions propres a l'homme, celle qu'il

acquiert le plus tard, et le plus difficilement, est la raison meme." The

tranquil indifference and uninquiring eye with which they surveyed our

works of art have often, in my hearing, been stigmatized as proofs of

stupidity, and want of reflection. But surely we should discriminate

between ignorance and defect of understanding. The truth was, they often

neither comprehended the design nor conceived the utility of such works,

but on subjects in any degree familiarised to their ideas, they generally

testified not only acuteness of discernment but a large portion of good

sense. I have always thought that the distinctions they shewed in their

estimate of us, on first entering into our society, strongly displayed the

latter quality: when they were led into our respective houses, at once to

be astonished and awed by our superiority, their attention was directly

turned to objects with which they were acquainted. They passed without

rapture or emotion our numerous artifices and contrivances, but when they

saw a collection of weapons of war or of the skins of animals and birds,

they never failed to exclaim, and to confer with each other on the subject.

The master of that house became the object of their regard, as they

concluded he must be either a renowned warrior, or an expert hunter. Our

surgeons grew into their esteem from a like cause. In a very early stage of

intercourse, several natives were present at the amputation of a leg. When

they first penetrated the intention of the operator, they were confounded,

not believing it possible that such an operation could be performed without

loss of life, and they called aloud to him to desist; but when they saw the

torrent of blood stopped, the vessels taken up and the stump dressed,

their horror and alarm yielded to astonishment and admiration, which they

expressed by the loudest tokens. If these instances bespeak not nature and

good sense, I have yet to learn the meaning of the terms.

If it be asked why the same intelligent spirit which led them to

contemplate and applaud the success of the sportsman and the skill of the

surgeon, did not equally excite them to meditate on the labours of the

builder and the ploughman, I can only answer that what we see in its remote

cause is always more feebly felt than that which presents to our immediate

grasp both its origin and effect.

Their leading good and bad qualities I shall concisely touch upon. Of

their intrepidity no doubt can exist. Their levity, their fickleness, their

passionate extravagance of character, cannot be defended. They are indeed

sudden and quick in quarrel; but if their resentment be easily roused,

their thirst of revenge is not implacable. Their honesty, when tempted

by novelty, is not unimpeachable, but in their own society there is good

reason to believe that few breaches of it occur. It were well if similar

praise could be given to their veracity: but truth they neither prize nor

practice. When they wish to deceive they scruple not to utter the grossest

and most hardened lies.* Their attachment and gratitude to those among us

whom they have professed to love have always remained inviolable, unless

effaced by resentment, from sudden provocation: then, like all other

Indians, the impulse of the moment is alone regarded by them.

[*This may serve to account for the contradictions of many of their

accounts to us.]

Some of their manufactures display ingenuity, when the rude tools with

which they work, and their celerity of execution are considered. The

canoes, fish-gigs, swords, shields, spears, throwing sticks, clubs,

and hatchets, are made by the men. To the women are committed the

fishing-lines, hooks and nets. As very ample collections of all these

articles are to be found in many museums in England, I shall only briefly

describe the way in which the most remarkable of them are made. The

fish-gigs and spears are commonly (but not universally) made of the long

spiral shoot which arises from the top of the yellow gum-tree, and bears

the flower. The former have several prongs, barbed with the bone of

kangaroo. The latter are sometimes barbed with the same substance, or with

the prickle of the sting-ray, or with stone or hardened gum, and sometimes

simply pointed. Dexterity in throwing and parrying the spear is considered

as the highest acquirement. The children of both sexes practice from the

time that they are able to throw a rush; their first essay. It forms their

constant recreation. They afterwards heave at each other with pointed

twigs. He who acts on the defensive holds a piece of new soft bark in the

left hand, to represent a shield, in which he receives the darts of the

assailant, the points sticking in it. Now commences his turn. He extracts

the twigs and darts them back at the first thrower, who catches them

similarly. In warding off the spear they never present their front, but

always turn their side, their head at the same time just clear of the

shield, to watch the flight of the weapon; and the body covered. If a spear

drop from them when thus engaged, they do not stoop to pick it up, but hook

it between the toes and so lift it until it meet the hand. Thus the eye is

never diverted from its object, the foe. If they wish to break a spear or

any wooden substance, they lay it not across the thigh or the body, but

upon the head, and press down the ends until it snap. Their shields are

of two sorts. That called 'illemon' is nothing but a piece of bark with

a handle fixed in the inside of it. The other, dug out of solid wood, is

called 'aragoon', and is made as follows, with great labour. On the bark

of a tree they mark the size of the shield, then dig the outline as deep

as possible in the wood with hatchets, and lastly flake it off as thick as

they can, by driving in wedges. The sword is a large heavy piece of wood,

shaped like a sabre, and capable of inflicting a mortal wound. In using

it they do not strike with the convex side, but with the concave one, and

strive to hook in their antagonists so as to have them under their blows.

The fishing-lines are made of the bark of a shrub. The women roll shreds

of this on the inside of the thigh, so as to twist it together, carefully

inserting the ends of every fresh piece into the last made. They are not

as strong as lines of equal size formed of hemp. The fish-hooks are chopped

with a stone out of a particular shell, and afterwards rubbed until they

become smooth. They are very much curved, and not barbed. Considering the

quickness with which they are finished, the excellence of the work, if it

be inspected, is admirable. In all these manufactures the sole of the foot

is used both by men and women as a work-board. They chop a piece of wood,

or aught else upon it, even with an iron tool, without hurting themselves.

It is indeed nearly as hard as the hoof of an ox.

Their method of procuring fire is this. They take a reed and shave one side

of the surface flat. In this they make a small incision to reach the pith,

and introducing a stick, purposely blunted at the end, into it, turn it

round between the hands (as chocolate is milled) as swiftly as possible,

until flame be produced. As this operation is not only laborious, but the

effect tedious, they frequently relieve each other at the exercise. And to

avoid being often reduced to the necessity of putting it in practice, they

always, if possible, carry a lighted stick with them, whether in their

canoes or moving from place to place on land.

Their treatment of wounds must not be omitted. A doctor is, with them, a

person of importance and esteem, but his province seems rather to

charm away occult diseases than to act the surgeon's part, which, as a

subordinate science, is exercised indiscriminately. Their excellent habit

of body*, the effect of drinking water only, speedily heals wounds without

an exterior application which with us would take weeks or months to close.

They are, nevertheless, sadly tormented by a cutaneous eruption, but we

never found it contagious. After receiving a contusion, if the part

swell they fasten a ligature very tightly above it, so as to stop all

circulation. Whether to this application, or to their undebauched habit, it

be attributable, I know not, but it is certain that a disabled limb among

them is rarely seen, although violent inflammations from bruises, which in

us would bring on a gangrene, daily happen. If they get burned, either from

rolling into the fire when asleep, or from the flame catching the grass

on which they lie (both of which are common accidents) they cover the part

with a thin paste of kneaded clay, which excludes the air and adheres to

the wound until it be cured, and the eschar falls off.

[*Their native hardiness of constitution is great. I saw a woman on the day

she was brought to bed, carry her new-born infant from Botany Bay to Port

Jackson, a distance of six miles, and afterwards light a fire and dress

fish.]

Their form of government, and the detail of domestic life, yet remain

untold. The former cannot occupy much space. Without distinctions of rank,

except those which youth and vigour confer, theirs is strictly a system of

'equality' attended with only one inconvenience--the strong triumph over

the weak. Whether any laws exist among them for the punishment of offences

committed against society; or whether the injured party in all cases seeks

for relief in private revenge, I will not positively affirm; though I am

strongly inclined to believe that only the latter method prevails. I have

already said that they are divided into tribes; but what constitutes the

right of being enrolled in a tribe, or where exclusion begins and ends,

I am ignorant. The tribe of Cameragal is of all the most numerous and

powerful. Their superiority probably arose from possessing the best fishing

ground, and perhaps from their having suffered less from the ravages of the

smallpox.

In the domestic detail there may be novelty, but variety is unattainable.

One day must be very like another in the life of a savage. Summoned by

the calls of hunger and the returning light, he starts from his beloved

indolence, and snatching up the remaining brand of his fire, hastens with

his wife to the strand to commence their daily task. In general the canoe

is assigned to her, into which she puts the fire and pushes off into deep

water, to fish with hook and line, this being the province of the women.

If she have a child at the breast, she takes it with her. And thus in her

skiff, a piece of bark tied at both ends with vines, and the edge of it

but just above the surface of the water, she pushes out regardless of

the elements, if they be but commonly agitated. While she paddles to

the fishing-bank, and while employed there, the child is placed on her

shoulders, entwining its little legs around her neck and closely grasping

her hair with its hands. To its first cries she remains insensible, as she

believes them to arise only from the inconvenience of a situation, to which

she knows it must be inured. But if its plaints continue, and she supposes

it to be in want of food, she ceases her fishing and clasps it to her

breast. An European spectator is struck with horror and astonishment at

their perilous situation, but accidents seldom happen. The management of

the canoe alone appears a work of unsurmountable difficulty, its breadth is

so inadequate to its length. The Indians, aware of its ticklish formation,

practise from infancy to move in it without risk. Use only could reconcile

them to the painful position in which they sit in it. They drop in the

middle of the canoe upon their knees, and resting the buttocks on the

heels, extend the knees to the sides, against which they press strongly,

so as to form a poise sufficient to retain the body in its situation, and

relieve the weight which would otherwise fall wholly upon the toes. Either

in this position or cautiously moving in the centre of the vessel, the

mother tends her child, keeps up her fire (which is laid on a small

patch of earth), paddles her boat, broils fish and provides in part the

subsistence of the day. Their favourite bait for fish is a cockle.

The husband in the mean time warily moves to some rock, over which he can

peep into unruffled water to look for fish. For this purpose he always

chooses a weather shore, and the various windings of the numerous creeks

and indents always afford one. Silent and watchful, he chews a cockle and

spits it into the water. Allured by the bait, the fish appear from beneath

the rock. He prepares his fish-gig, and pointing it downward, moves it

gently towards the object, always trying to approach it as near as

possible to the fish before the stroke be given. At last he deems himself

sufficiently advanced and plunges it at his prey. If he has hit his mark,

he continues his efforts and endeavours to transpierce it or so to entangle

the barbs in the flesh as to prevent its escape. When he finds it secure

he drops the instrument, and the fish, fastened on the prongs, rises to the

surface, floated by the buoyancy of the staff. Nothing now remains to be

done but to haul it to him, with either a long stick or another fish-gig

(for an Indian, if he can help it, never goes into the water on these

occasions) to disengage it, and to look out for fresh sport.

But sometimes the fish have either deserted the rocks for deeper water, or

are too shy to suffer approach. He then launches his canoe, and leaving the

shore behind, watches the rise of prey out of the water, and darts his gig

at them to the distance of many yards. Large fish he seldom procures by

this method; but among shoals of mullets, which are either pursued by

enemies, or leap at objects on the surface, he is often successful.

Baneelon has been seen to kill more than twenty fish by this method in an

afternoon. The women sometimes use the gig, and always carry one in each

canoe to strike large fish which may be hooked and thereby facilitate the

capture. But generally speaking, this instrument is appropriate to the men,

who are never seen fishing with the line, and would indeed consider it as a

degradation of their pre-eminence.

When prevented by tempestuous weather or any other cause, from fishing,

these people suffer severely. They have then no resource but to pick up

shellfish, which may happen to cling to the rocks, and be cast on the

beach, to hunt particular reptiles and small animals, which are scarce,

to dig fern root in the swamps or to gather a few berries, destitute of

flavour and nutrition, which the woods afford. To alleviate the sensation

of hunger, they tie a ligature tightly around the belly, as I have often

seen our soldiers do from the same cause.

Let us, however, suppose them successful in procuring fish. The wife

returns to land with her booty, and the husband quitting the rock joins

his stock to hers; and they repair either to some neighbouring cavern or

to their hut. This last is composed of pieces of bark, very rudely piled

together, in shape as like a soldier's tent as any known image to which I

can compare it: too low to admit the lord of it to stand upright, but

long and wide enough to admit three or four persons to lie under it.

"Here shelters himself a being, born with all those powers which education

expands, and all those sensations which culture refines." With a lighted

stick brought from the canoe they now kindle a small fire at the mouth of

the hut and prepare to dress their meal. They begin by throwing the fish

exactly in the state in which it came from the water, on the fire. When it

has become a little warmed they take it off, rub away the scales, and then

peal off with their teeth the surface, which they find done and eat. Now,

and not before, they gut it; but if the fish be a mullet or any other which

has a fatty substance about the intestines, they carefully guard that part

and esteem it a delicacy. The cooking is now completed by the remaining

part being laid on the fire until it be sufficiently done. A bird, a

lizard, a rat, or any other animal, they treat in the same manner. The

feathers of the one and the fur of the other, they thus get rid of.*

[*They broil indiscriminately all substances which they eat. Though they

boil water in small quantities in oyster shells for particular purposes,

they never conceived it possible until shown by us, to dress meat by this

method, having no vessel capable of containing a fish or a bird which would

stand fire. Two of them once stole twelve pounds of rice and carried it

off. They knew how we cooked it, and by way of putting it in practice they

spread the rice on the ground before a fire, and as it grew hot continued

to throw water on it. Their ingenuity was however very ill rewarded, for

the rice became so mingled with the dirt and sand on which it was laid,

that even they could not eat it, and the whole was spoiled.]

Unless summoned away by irresistable necessity, sleep always follows the

repast. They would gladly prolong it until the following day; but the

canoe wants repair, the fish-gig must be barbed afresh, new lines must be

twisted, and new hooks chopped out. They depart to their respective tasks,

which end only with the light.

Such is the general life of an Indian. But even he has his hours of

relaxation, in seasons of success, when fish abounds. Wanton with plenty,

he now meditates an attack upon the chastity of some neighbouring fair one;

and watching his opportunity he seizes her and drags her away to complete

his purpose. The signal of war is lighted; her lover, her father, her

brothers, her tribe, assemble, and vow revenge on the spoiler. He tells

his story to his tribe. They judge the case to be a common one and agree to

support him. Battle ensues; they discharge their spears at each other, and

legs and arms are transpierced. When the spears are expended the combatants

close and every species of violence is practiced. They seize their

antagonist and snap like enraged dogs, they wield the sword and club,

the bone shatters beneath their fall and they drop the prey of unsparing

vengeance.

Too justly, as my observations teach me has Hobbes defined a state of

nature to be a state of war. In the method of waging it among these people,

one thing should not, however, escape notice. Unlike all other Indians,

they never carry on operations in the night, or seek to destroy by ambush

and surprise. Their ardent fearless character, seeks fair and open combat

only.

But enmity has its moments of pause. Then they assemble to sing and dance.

We always found their songs disagreeable from their monotony. They are

numerous, and vary both in measure and time. They have songs of war, of

hunting, of fishing, for the rise and set of the sun, for rain, for thunder

and for many other occasions. One of these songs, which may be termed

a speaking pantomime, recites the courtship between the sexes and is

accompanied with acting highly expressive. I once heard and saw Nanbaree

and Abaroo perform it. After a few preparatory motions she gently sunk on

the ground, as if in a fainting fit. Nanbaree applying his mouth to her

ear, began to whisper in it, and baring her bosom, breathed on it several

times. At length, the period of the swoon having expired, with returning

animation she gradually raised herself. She now began to relate what she

had seen in her vision, mentioning several of her countrymen by name, whom

we knew to be dead; mixed with other strange incoherent matter, equally new

and inexplicable, though all tending to one leading point--the sacrifice of

her charms to her lover.

At their dances I have often been present; but I confess myself unable to

convey in description an accurate account of them. Like their songs, they

are conceived to represent the progress of the passions and the occupations

of life. Full of seeming confusion, yet regular and systematic, their wild

gesticulations, and frantic distortions of body are calculated rather to

terrify, than delight, a spectator. These dances consist of short parts,

or acts, accompanied with frequent vociferations, and a kind of hissing,

or whizzing noise. They commonly end with a loud rapid shout, and after a

short respite are renewed. While the dance lasts, one of them (usually

a person of note and estimation) beats time with a stick on a wooden

instrument held in the left hand, accompanying the music with his voice;

and the dancers sometimes sing in concert.

I have already mentioned that white is the colour appropriated to the

dance, but the style of painting is left to every one's fancy. Some are

streaked with waving lines from head to foot; others marked by broad

cross-bars, on the breast, back, and thighs, or encircled with spiral

lines, or regularly striped like a zebra. Of these ornaments, the face

never wants its share, and it is hard to conceive any thing in the shape

of humanity more hideous and terrific than they appear to a stranger--seen,

perhaps, through the livid gleam of a fire, the eyes surrounded by large

white circles, in contrast with the black ground, the hair stuck full of

pieces of bone and in the hand a grasped club, which they occasionally

brandish with the greatest fierceness and agility. Some dances are

performed by men only, some by women only, and in others the sexes mingle.

In one of them I have seen the men drop on their hands and knees and

kiss the earth with the greatest fervor, between the kisses looking up to

Heaven. They also frequently throw up their arms, exactly in the manner in

which the dancers of the Friendly Islands are depicted in one of the plates

of Mr. Cook's last voyage.

Courtship here, as in other countries, is generally promoted by this

exercise, where every one tries to recommend himself to attention and

applause. Dancing not only proves an incentive, but offers an opportunity

in its intervals. The first advances are made by the men, who strive

to render themselves agreeable to their favourites by presents of

fishing-tackle and other articles which they know will prove acceptable.

Generally speaking, a man has but one wife, but infidelity on the side of

the husband, with the unmarried girls, is very frequent. For the most part,

perhaps, they intermarry in their respective tribes. This rule is not,

however, constantly observed, and there is reason to think that a more

than ordinary share of courtship and presents, on the part of the man,

is required in this case. Such difficulty seldom operates to extinguish

desire, and nothing is more common than for the unsuccessful suitor to

ravish by force that which he cannot accomplish by entreaty. I do not

believe that very near connections by blood ever cohabit. We knew of no

instance of it.

But indeed the women are in all respects treated with savage barbarity

Condemned not only to carry the children but all other burthens, they meet

in return for submission only with blows, kicks and every other mark of

brutality. When an Indian is provoked by a woman, he either spears her

or knocks her down on the spot. On this occasion he always strikes on the

head, using indiscriminately a hatchet, a club or any other weapon

which may chance to be in his hand. The heads of the women are always

consequently seen in the state which I found that of Gooreedeeana. Colbee,

who was certainly, in other respects a good tempered merry fellow, made no

scruple of treating Daringa, who was a gentle creature, thus. Baneelon did

the same to Barangaroo, but she was a scold and a vixen, and nobody pitied

her. It must nevertheless be confessed that the women often artfully study

to irritate and inflame the passions of the men, although sensible that the

consequence will alight on themselves.

Many a matrimonial scene of this sort have I witnessed. Lady Mary Wortley

Montague, in her sprightly letters from Turkey, longs for some of the

advocates for passive obedience and unconditional submission then existing

in England to be present at the sights exhibited in a despotic government.

A thousand times, in like manner, have I wished that those European

philosophers whose closet speculations exalt a state of nature above

a state of civilization, could survey the phantom which their heated

imaginations have raised. Possibly they might then learn that a state of

nature is, of all others, least adapted to promote the happiness of a

being capable of sublime research and unending ratiocination. That a savage

roaming for prey amidst his native deserts is a creature deformed by all

those passions which afflict and degrade our nature, unsoftened by the

influence of religion, philosophy and legal restriction: and that the more

men unite their talents, the more closely the bands of society are drawn

and civilization advanced, inasmuch is human felicity augmented, and man

fitted for his unalienable station in the universe.

Of the language of New South Wales I once hoped to have subjoined to this

work such an exposition as should have attracted public notice, and

have excited public esteem. But the abrupt departure of Mr. Dawes, who,

stimulated equally by curiosity and philanthropy, had hardly set foot on

his native country when he again quitted it to encounter new perils in the

service of the Sierra Leona company, precludes me from executing this part

of my original intention, in which he had promised to co-operate with

me; and in which he had advanced his researches beyond the reach of

competition. The few remarks which I can offer shall be concisely detailed.

We were at first inclined to stigmatised this language as harsh and

barbarous in its sounds. Their combinations of words in the manner they

utter them, frequently convey such an effect. But if not only their proper

names of men and places, but many of their phrases and a majority of their

words, be simply and unconnectedly considered, they will be found to abound

with vowels and to produce sounds sometimes mellifluous and sometimes

sonorous. What ear can object to the names of Colbee, (pronounced exactly

as Colby is with us) Bereewan, Bondel, Imeerawanyee, Deedora, Wolarawaree,

or Baneelon, among the men; or to Wereeweea, Gooreedeeana, Milba*, or

Matilba, among the women. Parramatta, Gweea, Cameera, Cadi, and Memel, are

names of places. The tribes derive their appellations from the places they

inhabit. Thus Cemeeragal, means the men who reside in the bay of Cameera;

Cedigal, those who reside in the bay of Cadi; and so of the others. The

women of the tribe are denoted by adding 'eean' to any of the foregoing

words. A Cadigaleean imports a woman living at Cadi, or of the tribe of

Cadigal. These words, as the reader will observe, are accented either on

the first syllable or the penultima. In general, however, they are partial

to the emphasis being laid as near the beginning of the word as possible.

[*Mrs. Johnson, wife of the chaplain of the settlement, was so pleased with

this name that she christened her little girl, born in Port Jackson, Milba

Maria Johnson.]

Of compound words they seem fond. Two very striking ones appear in the

journal to the Hawkesbury. Their translations of our words into their

language are always apposite, comprehensive, and drawn from images familiar

to them. A gun, for instance, they call 'gooroobeera', that is, a stick of

fire. Sometimes also, by a licence of language, they call those who

carry guns by the same name. But the appellation by which they generally

distinguished us was that of 'bereewolgal', meaning men come from afar.

When they salute any one they call him 'dameeli', or namesake, a term which

not only implies courtesy and good-will, but a certain degree of affection

in the speaker. An interchange of names with any one is also a symbol of

friendship. Each person has several names; one of which, there is reason to

believe, is always derived from the first fish or animal which the child,

in accompanying its father to the chase or a fishing, may chance to kill.

Not only their combinations, but some of their simple sounds, were

difficult of pronunciation to mouths purely English. Diphthongs often

occur. One of the most common is that of 'ae', or perhaps, 'ai', pronounced

not unlike those letters in the French verb 'hair', to hate. The letter 'y'

frequently follows 'd' in the same syllable. Thus the word which signifies

a woman is 'dyin'; although the structure of our language requires us to

spell it 'deein'.

But if they sometimes put us to difficulty, many of our words were to them

unutterable. The letters 's' and 'v' they never could pronounce. The latter

became invariably 'w', and the former mocked all their efforts, which in

the instance of Baneelon has been noticed; and a more unfortunate defect in

learning our language could not easily be pointed out.

They use the ellipsis in speaking very freely; always omitting as many

words as they possibly can, consistent with being understood. They inflect

both their nouns and verbs regularly; and denote the cases of the former

and the tenses of the latter, not like the English by auxiliary words, but

like the Latins by change of termination. Their nouns, whether substantive

or adjective, seem to admit of no plural. I have heard Mr. Dawes hint his

belief of their using a dual number, similar to the Greeks, but I confess

that I never could remark aught to confirm it. The method by which they

answer a question that they cannot resolve is similar to what we

sometimes use. Let for example the following question be put: 'Waw Colbee

yagoono?'--Where is Colbee to-day? 'Waw, baw!'--Where, indeed! would be the

reply. They use a direct and positive negative, but express the affirmative

by a nod of the head or an inclination of the body.

Opinions have greatly differed, whether or not their language be copious.

In one particular it is notoriously defective. They cannot count with

precision more than four. However as far as ten, by holding up the fingers,

they can both comprehend others and explain themselves. Beyond four every

number is called great; and should it happen to be very large, great great,

which is an Italian idiom also. This occasions their computations of time

and space to be very confused and incorrect. Of the former they have no

measure but the visible diurnal motion of the sun or the monthly revolution

of the moon.

To conclude the history of a people for whom I cannot but feel some share

of affection. Let those who have been born in more favoured lands and who

have profited by more enlightened systems, compassionate, but not despise

their destitute and obscure situation. Children of the same omniscient

paternal care, let them recollect that by the fortuitous advantage of birth

alone they possess superiority: that untaught, unaccommodated man is the

same in Pall Mall as in the wilderness of New South Wales. And ultimately

let them hope and trust that the progress of reason and the splendor

of revelation will in their proper and allotted season be permitted to

illumine and transfuse into these desert regions, knowledge, virtue and

happiness.