CHAPTER VII

COLOUR OF ABORIGINAL’S SKIN

Unsuitable nomenclature—Aboriginal of Australia not

a “Nigger”—Colour normally chocolate-brown—Lighter

in infancy—Variations of shade due to several

causes—Colour-classification schemes obsolete—Pigmentation very

superficial in aboriginal’s skin—“White blackfellows”—Pigment

destroyed by disease and lesion—Actual colour—Its intensity

and distribution—Effect of environment on aboriginal’s skin

colour—Climatic influence.

The Australian aboriginal is popularly spoken of as a blackfellow; at

times one even hears him referred to as a nigger! Strictly speaking, the

former appellation is not in accordance with obvious fact, and the latter

in addition is scientifically grossly incorrect. The aboriginal is no

more black than the average modern European is white, and, apart from

his darker colour, he certainly has not many negroid features which we

do not also possess, at any rate more or less sporadically. Under normal

conditions, the colour of the Australian is a velvety chocolate-brown,

somewhat lighter or more coppery in the female than in the male. The skin

of a newly-born piccaninny is very much paler, with a distinct tint of

fleshy red about it, which many people maintain reminds one of the skin

of young murines, as it appears before it developes fur. For this reason,

too, the inexperienced observer often accuses an aboriginal mother of

infidelity; the colour of the infant’s skin, when compared with that of

its parent, indeed suggests a mixing of her blood with that of another

lighter coloured race. The child’s skin, however, soon darkens in colour;

and, within a few weeks, attains a shade not appreciably different from

that of the adults of its tribe.

Apparent gradations in colour are occasionally observed among different

members of one and the same tribe. As with ourselves, circulatory

disorders are not absent among the aborigines, and such materially affect

the quality of colour in the aboriginal’s skin. Simple anaemia, or even a

temporary blanching of the tissues, through nervousness or fright during

the time of an examination, will affect the appearance of the skin. In

the same way, full-bloodedness, or a passing flush, will deepen the

shade, the injection of blood into the underlying tissues being clearly

noticeable through the epidermis. Pathological conditions like jaundice

are also frequently developed in the aborigines, and impart to their skin

a sickly ashen hue; in this case the yellow colour of the conjunctiva

usually indicates the disorder. The likelihood of any such conditions

being present should be carefully investigated before applying the

standard colour tables of modern anthropologists.

The oldest systems of colour-classification divided the races of man into

five groups—the white, the yellow, the red, the brown, and the black.

But nowadays, even the layman knows that such hard and fast divisions

are impossible. We find that among individuals of one particular race,

whatever its so-called, and somewhat arbitrary, colour might be, there

exist noticeable variations in shade. Red Indians have yellow or brown

skins almost as frequently as a genuine red; the “white” races of Europe

often have so dark a “complexion” that they are in reality brown; and the

skin of a negro at times has a distinctly reddish or brownish hue.

Early anthropologists thought that the “dust or tawny” colour was due to

the accumulation of carbon in the external layers of the integument. But

since the introduction of the microscope, which made the study of thin

sections of human skin under great magnification possible, it was found

that the colour is due to living cells, which carry pigment in their

protoplasm, and are more or less migratory.

In the Australian aboriginal, these pigment-cells lie quite superficially

in the skin. Some years ago Professor Klaatsch, of Heidelberg University,

when in Australia, managed to obtain the corpse of an aboriginal, which

he consigned to a large tank holding an ordinary preserving fluid.

Hermetically sealing the lid of the tank, the Professor shipped the

specimen to Europe, where it was to be dissected. Some months later,

I joined him at Breslau University, and together we opened the tank.

Imagine our surprise when we beheld what one might describe as an

anthropological contradiction—a “white blackfellow!” It took us some

time to recognize in the form in front of us that of the aboriginal we

had seen in Australia. What had happened was that, during the continued

movement of the preserving solution during the transport, the superficial

layers of the skin had been removed, and, with them, the colour too. In

other parts, the skin had blistered and become detached, leaving more or

less adherent strips of epidermis in which the colouring matter could be

recognized.

I have seen a similar condition of things in corpses of aborigines, in

the remoter districts of the Australian bush, where the dead are placed

to rest on artificial platforms in the branches of trees. When, during

the processes of decomposition, the skin peels off, and is washed away by

the rain, the corpse assumes a pinkish white colour, resembling the body

of a white man, some time dead. No doubt it was on this account that,

in the early days of European settlement, it was a general belief among

the aborigines that the white man was one of their own dead warriors

returned to life in a different colour. We have a classical example in

the experience of the escaped convict, William Buckley, who lived for

thirty-two years among the natives of Victoria, the latter regarding him

as their dead chief returned to life transformed. It is quite possible

that this belief, which is so common among the tribes, originated from

the fact that the natives themselves had observed, as Professor Klaatsch

and I did, that the decomposing bodies of their dead might, under certain

conditions, become very much lighter in colour.

Throughout the Northern Kimberley district the natives maintain that a

dead tribesman will “jump up all-the-same whitefellow” in colour.

A singular case, illustrative of the shallowness of pigmentation in

the epithelium of an aboriginal’s skin, was reported from Canowie

Sheep Station by the late Rev. Tenison Woods. A native, suffering from

an obstinate skin disease, was “dipped,” like a sheep, in a solution

containing soft soap, tobacco, and arsenic, the last-named in the

proportion of one ounce to the gallon of water. The native became very

ill, lost his hair, and his finger and toe-nails. Eventually he became

better, but his skin peeled off. He was then described as “presenting the

appearance of a magpie during the time the process of decortication was

going on.” Finally his skin became “smooth and as glossy as marble.”

In pemphigoid skin-eruptions, when blister-like bullae develop over

different parts of the body, the lesions left in the skin for a while are

pinkish and unpigmented. Scars resulting from a cut or burn remain red

for a considerable time, but eventually turn the same uniform colour as

the rest of the skin.

Under normal conditions, one may often find patches of pigment on mucous

surfaces of the inner lips and mouth. The pathological condition known as

leucoderma is, on the other hand, rather frequently observed among the

different tribes of Australia. I have seen natives, both in the north

and south of this continent, whose skin over certain areas was devoid of

pigment; the hands and feet seem particularly prone to be thus affected.

So much for the seat of the pigmentation. If we now enquire into the

actual complexion, or colour-tint, of the aboriginal’s skin, the question

is not so easily satisfied as one might have thought. The colour is, of

course, brown—a soft, velvety brown, like chocolate. Scientists tell

us it is about the same as tint No. 3 of the colour scheme on Plate

III, Notes and Queries on Anthropology, London. But the matter is not

so simple as one might be led to believe. To begin with, we have not a

homogeneous colouration before us. If, for instance, we wanted to paint

a picture of an aboriginal, we would mix a fundamental chocolate-brown

to deck the surface with; to obtain the shade of the back we should

have to mix a blue or green with the brown; whereas the cheeks and chin

would require a yellow or red. The intensity of pigmentation varies to

a noticeable degree; it is deepest on the back and neck, and along the

folds of the skin. The soles and palms are always very much lighter in

colour than the rest of the body.

Environment plays an important role, because a native’s skin has the

remarkable power of what might be termed complimentary colour-adaptation,

as a result of which a hard and fast definition, or fixing, of the shade

is practically impossible. For this same reason it is conceivable why the

sombre hue of the hunter’s skin becomes neutralized by the sallowness

of the arid Central Australian scrub, as well as by the deeply-shaded

verdure of the tropical jungle. Upon a clear day, with an open, blue sky,

an aboriginal always appears dark or dingy, while on a dull and cloudy

day, his skin is more of a chocolate-brown; when he is swimming in the

open sea, his colour may even become coppery and seem not much darker

than that of a Javanese.

The adaptable tone-characteristics of their skin are well-known to the

natives themselves, not only while in the hunting field and on the

warpath, but also on the playground. At Opparinna, in the Musgrave

Ranges, children were seen indulging in a game resembling “hide and

seek,” and often, in an endeavour to avoid the keen eye of the “seeker,”

one would duck in amongst the boulders of granite and imitate the

rust-coloured contours of a boulder to perfection.

[Illustration: _PLATE VI_

1. Wongapitcha woman, wearing “_ungwaina_” (nose-stick), and fur-string

bandeau.

2. Wongapitcha woman, wearing bloodwood seed pendants called “_dindula_.”

Note “Semitic” nose.]

We know that the climate has an important bearing upon the subject of

pigmentation in all races. Most of us have had our faces, hands, and

other exposed parts of our body bronzed when holiday-making at the

seaside. If we come straight from indoor life in the city, we might,

in addition, find our skin develop a badly blistered condition known

as sunburn. Yet the bushman, the coach-driver, or the sailor, who, by

long exposure, has acquired a more or less permanent tan, can bask with

impunity in the severest rays of the sun.

Exactly the same processes take place in the coloured man’s skin. When

cruising about the north coast, I frequently had occasion to observe

that my Malay crew were more bronzed above than below the belt. This was

obviously caused through continued exposure to the tropical sun, since

during the heat of day they would work, or lie about on deck, wearing

nothing else than a serong hanging from their waist.

When aborigines are taken from their wild outdoor life, and kept

under European conditions, more or less confined, their skin becomes

unquestionably lighter; this is particularly noticed in their faces.

These phenomena indicate to us the method Nature adopts in protecting our

skin, and with it our system, against scorching rays of the sun; and we

also realize why it is that the coloured man can endure the disadvantages

of a tropical climate so much better than we.

The same phenomena might also be made responsible for the wonderful

absence of pigment in the skin of modern white peoples of European

origin. There is no doubt, the great Ice Age and the living in caves

and shelters (and huts) were the essential factors which ultimately

established the “white” skin in man. In this hypothesis, we naturally

assume that our Diluvial or earlier Tertiary ancestor had a moderately

dark-coloured skin, which protected him against the tropical sun, which

Geology has taught us, shone over Europe at the beginning or middle of

that great period.

The Australian aboriginal · 第 7 / 31 章