MANNERS AND HABITS OF THE NATIVES.

The shyness which the savages of Australia frequently exhibit in their first intercourse with Europeans is not at all surprising; indeed, it is rather remarkable how soon they get over this feeling, if they are not interfered with, and no unpleasant occurrences take place. As Captain Flinders has very justly observed, “were we living in a state of nature, frequently at war with our neighbours, and ignorant of the existence of any other nation, on the first arrival of strangers, so different in complexion and appearance to ourselves, having power to transport themselves over, and even living upon an element which to us was impassable,[56] the first sensation would probably be terror, and the first movement flight.” We should watch these extraordinary people from our retreats, and if we found ourselves sought out or pursued by them, their designs would be suspected; otherwise, upon seeing them quietly engaged in their own occupations, curiosity would get the better of fear, and, after observing them more closely, we should ourselves seek to open a communication. This is precisely what takes place with the native tribes in New Holland, when the discoverers conduct themselves prudently, and no particular cause of offence or dislike occurs. But where all appears equally strange and suspicious to them, it cannot be wondered if they often mistake the meaning of European customs and actions. For example, when Major Mitchell was desirous of taking the portrait of a native in Eastern Australia, the terror and suspicion of the poor creature, at being required to stand steadily before the artist were such, that, notwithstanding the power of disguising fear, so remarkable in the savage race, the stout heart of Cambo was overcome, and beat visibly; the perspiration streamed from his breast, and he was about to sink to the ground, when he at length suddenly darted away; but he speedily returned, bearing in one hand his club, and in the other his boomerang or kiley, with which he seemed to gain just fortitude enough to be able to stand on his legs until the sketch was finished.

To the observer of human nature it is, indeed, a curious spectacle to watch the several contrary feelings and impulses by which the Australian savage is actuated in his intercourse with the more civilised portions of our race. Attachment, very strong attachment to his own customs, and wild roving mode of life,—admiration of the evident superiority, the luxury, abundance and comfort, enjoyed by Europeans,—doubt and alarm respecting the final issue of the changes which he sees taking place before his eyes,—an increasing taste for many of the useful or agreeable articles which are to be procured only from the hands of the strangers,—these and other similar feelings alternately sway the mind, and prompt the actions, of the native of the bush in Australia, so as to give an appearance of inconsistency, not merely to the varying conduct of different persons, but frequently to the behaviour of the very same person at different times. Sometimes the perplexed savage decidedly prefers his piece of whale to all the luxuries of English fare;[57] at another time he despises the common food of the bush—kangaroo flesh, or fish,—and presuming upon his usefulness as a guide, nothing but wheaten flour, at the rate of two pounds and a half a day, will satisfy his desires.[58] One day, fired with a wish to emulate his betters, the black man assumes the costume of an European, likes to be close-shaved, wears a white neck-cloth, and means to become entirely “a white fellow.” Another day, wearied with the heat and thraldom of dress, and tempted by the cool appearance, or stung by the severe taunts of his brethren in the bush, off he flings his encumbrances and civilisation, and gladly returns to a state of nature again.

The barber’s art appears, in several cases, to have caught the attention of these savages. The following ridiculous account of an operation of this kind, performed upon some natives of the country a little southward of Port Jackson, is given by Flinders. “A new employment arose up on our hands. We had clipped the hair and beards of the two Botany Bay natives, at Red Point; and they were showing themselves to the others, and persuading them to follow their example. While, therefore, the powder was drying, I began with a large pair of scissors to execute my new office upon the eldest of four or five chins presented to me; and as great nicety was not required, the shearing of a dozen of them did not occupy me long. Some of the more timid were alarmed at a formidable instrument coming so near to their noses, and would scarcely be persuaded by their shaven friends to allow the operation to be finished. But when their chins were held up a second time, their fear of the instrument, the wild stare of their eyes, and the smile which they forced, formed a compound upon the rough savage countenance, not unworthy the pencil of a Hogarth. I was almost tempted to try what effect a little snip would produce, but our situation was too critical to admit of such experiments.”[59]

It has been repeatedly stated, upon good authority, that the health of the natives of the bush has suffered greatly, and that their lives have been frequently shortened, by the habits and indulgences which they have learned from their more civilized neighbours. In their original state, although beyond question the average duration of life was considerably below that of European nations, yet an advanced age was not uncommonly attained among them. Numbers die during the period of infancy, for none except very strong children can possibly undergo the hardships, the privations, and the perpetual travelling, which most of the infants born in the bush must brave and endure. Besides which, there is the chance of a violent death in some of the frequent quarrels which arise and include in their consequences all the relatives of the contending parties. But, due allowance having been made for these causes by which the average duration of life in those wild regions is shortened, it does not appear that their inhabitants are a particularly short-lived race, although by some persons this has been thought to be the case. It is impossible exactly to ascertain the age of the Australian savages, who have no mode of keeping account of this themselves; but from instances of youths, their father, grandfather, and great uncle being alive, and in the enjoyment of tolerably good health, or from similar cases, it may be safely concluded that they frequently reach, or even pass beyond, the boundary term of life, three score years and ten. To one horrible mode of departing from life, which is strangely common in more polished nations, these barbarians are, happily, strangers. Captain Grey says, “I believe they have no idea that such a thing as a man’s putting an end to his own life could ever occur; whenever I have questioned them on this point, they have invariably laughed at me, and treated my question as a joke.” The period of old age must be as happy as any other time in the life of a savage, if not more so, since aged men are always treated with much respect, and rarely take an active part in any fray. They are allowed to marry young wives, and to watch them as jealously, and treat them as cruelly, as they please; and they appear to suffer less from weakness and disease than the aged amongst us usually endure. The old, too, are privileged to eat certain kinds of meat forbidden to the young. Thus Piper, a native, who accompanied Major Mitchell, would not eat the flesh of emu, even when food was scarce; but when he had undergone the ceremony of being rubbed over with the fat of that bird by an old man, he had thenceforth no objection to it. The threatened penalty was, that young men, after eating it, would be afflicted with sores all over the body; but the fact is, that it is too rich and oily for the old men to allow any but themselves to partake of it. So that, upon the whole, in New Holland, as in most other uncivilised countries, old age is a period of much dignity, and of considerable enjoyment of life.

But, whatever may be the troubles, or whatever the enjoyments, of old age, they are, in their very nature, even above our other troubles or enjoyments, brief and transitory. The aged warrior of Australia can plead no exemption from the common lot of mortality, and death draws a veil over the chequered existence,—the faults and follies, the talents and virtues, of every child of Adam. The various customs and superstitions, connected with the death and burial of their friends, are very numerous among the tribes of Australia, and some of them are curious and peculiar. It would be impossible to give a full account of them, but a few of the most remarkable may be selected. Throughout all the funeral solemnities of savage and heathen nations the same distinguishing mark is to be observed,—they are the vain devices, the miserable inventions of men who sorrow for their departed friends as those that have no hope. Nothing, it is asserted, can awake in the breast more melancholy feelings than the funeral chants of the Australians. They are sung by a whole chorus of females of all ages, and the effect produced upon the bystanders by this wild music surpasses belief. The following is a chant, which has been heard upon several such occasions, and which, simple though it be, fully expresses the feelings of a benighted heathen mourning over the grave of a friend whom he has lost (as he thinks) for ever:—

But previously to our entering upon the subject of the funeral rites practised in New Holland, it will be necessary to notice the superstitions respecting sorcerers, which in that country are so intimately connected with the very idea of death. When an individual life is taken away by open violence, then, as we have seen, it is avenged upon the supposed murderer, or his relatives. But when death occurs from accidental or natural causes, it is usually attributed to the influence of sorcery, and not unfrequently is it revenged upon some connexion of the parties believed to have practised that art. So that, generally speaking, the death of one human being involves that of another, which is no small check to population. In truth, it would almost seem that the natives have no idea of death occurring, except by violence or sorcery;[60] and these strange notions must not be dealt with too severely, in a country like England, where (within the last 200 years, and in no uncivilised state of society) persons have been burnt for witchcraft; and in which, even in the present day, every vile imposture and godless pretence of supernatural power is sure of finding eager listeners and astonished admirers. The Boyl-yas, or native sorcerers, are objects of mysterious dread, and are thought to have the power of becoming invisible to all eyes but those of their brethren in the same evil craft. As our northern witches were supposed to have the power of riding upon a broom-stick, so these southern sorcerers are said to be able to transport themselves at pleasure through the air. If they have a dislike to any one they can kill him, it is said, by stealing on him at night and consuming his flesh, into which they enter like pieces of quartz-stone, and the pain they occasion is always felt. Another sorcerer, however, can draw them out, and the pieces of stone pretended to be thus obtained are kept as great curiosities. Perhaps the clearest ideas of the imaginary powers of these sorcerers, and of the dread in which they are held, will be found from the following account, obtained from a native with the utmost difficulty, (for the subject is never willingly mentioned,) and reported verbatim by Captain Grey.

“‘The Boyl-yas,’ said the trembling Kaiber, ‘are natives who have the power of boyl-ya; they sit down to the northward, the eastward, and southward; the Boyl-yas are very bad, they walk away there’ (pointing to the east). ‘I shall be very ill presently. The Boyl-yas eat up a great many natives,—they eat them up as fire would; you and I will be very ill directly. The Boyl-yas have ears: by and by they will be greatly enraged. I’ll tell you no more.’

“‘The Boyl-yas move stealthily,—you sleep and they steal on you,—very stealthily the Boyl-yas move. These Boyl-yas are dreadfully revengeful; by and by we shall be very ill. I’ll not talk about them. They come moving along in the sky,—cannot you let them alone? I’ve already a terrible headache; by and by you and I will be two dead men.’

“‘The natives cannot see them. The Boyl-yas do not bite, they feed stealthily; they do not eat the bones, but consume the flesh. Just give me what you intend to give, and I’ll walk off.’

What secrets can the human breast contain,
When tempted by thy charms, curst love of gain!

“‘The Boyl-yas sit at the graves of natives in great numbers. If natives are ill, the Boyl-yas charm, charm, charm, charm, and charm, and, by and by, the natives recover.’” Nothing further could be learned from this terrified and unwilling witness. The custom spoken of in the last part of his evidence, that of sitting at the graves of the dead, is found in nearly all the known portions of Australia, and the object of this practice is to discover by what person the death of the deceased individual has been caused, which is supposed to be declared by dreams or visions. A similar custom among the Jews is reproved by the prophet Isaiah, chap. lxv. 4, 5.

Once, when Major Mitchell had been harassed, and two of his party killed by the hostile natives, he reached a spot of security, where, while admiring the calm repose of the wild landscape, and the beauteous beams of the setting sun, he was anticipating a night free from disturbance. He was alone, waiting the arrival of his party, but his reveries were dissipated in the most soothing manner, by the soft sounds of a female voice, singing in a very different tone from that generally prevailing among the Australians. It sounded like the song of despair, and, indeed, it was the strain of a female mourning over some deceased relative; nor could the loud “hurra” of the men, when they came up, angry at the recent pillage and murder of some of the party, put to flight the melancholy songstress of the woods. On these occasions it is usual for the relatives of the deceased to continue their lamentations, appearing insensible of what people may be doing around them.

The rude verses, given below, and forming the substance of a chant, sung by an old woman to incite the men to avenge the death of a young person, may serve at once for a specimen of the poetry and superstition of the Australian wilderness:—

“The blear-eyed sorcerers of the north
Their vile enchantments sung and wove,
And in the night they sallied forth,
A fearful, man-devouring drove.

“Feasting on our own lov’d one
With sanguinary jaws and tongue,
The wretches sat, and gnaw’d, and kept
Devouring, while their victim slept.
Yho, yang, yho yang, yang yho.

“Yes, unconsciously he rested
In a slumber too profound;
While vile Boyl-yas sat and feasted
On the victim they had bound
In sleep:—Mooligo, dear young brother,
Where shall we find the like of thee?
Favourite of thy tender mother,
We again shall never see
Mooligo, our dear young brother.
Yho, yang yho, ho, ho.

“Men, who ever bold have been,
Are your long spears sharpened well?
Fix anew the quartz-stone keen,
Let each shaft upon them tell.
Poise your meer-ros, long and sure,
Let the kileys whiz and whirl
Strangely through the air so pure;
Heavy dow-uks at them hurl;
Shout the yell they dread to hear.
Let the young men leap on high,
To avoid the quivering spear;
Light of limb and quick of eye,
Who sees well has nought to fear.
Let them shift, and let them leap,
While the quick spear whistling flies,
Woe to him who cannot leap!
Woe to him who has bad eyes!”

When an old woman has commenced a chant of this kind, she will continue it until she becomes positively exhausted; and upon her ceasing, another takes up the song. The effect some of them have upon the assembled men is very great; indeed, it is said that these addresses of the old women are the cause of most of the disturbances which take place. Thus, even amid the forests of New Holland, the influence of woman will, in one way or another, make itself felt.

The ceremonies observed at the funeral of a native vary, as might be expected, in so great a space, but they are wild and impressive in every part of New Holland. According to Collins, the natives of the colony called New South Wales were in the habit of burning the bodies of those who had passed the middle age of life, but burial seems the more universal method of disposing of their dead among the Australians. Some very curious drawings and figures cut in the rock were discovered by Captain Grey, in North-Western Australia, but whether these were burying-places does not appear. For the account of these works of rude art, which is extremely interesting, but too long to transcribe, the reader is referred to the delightful work of the traveller just mentioned.

The shrieks and piercing cries uttered by the women over their dead relatives, are said to be truly fearful, and agreeably to the ancient custom of idolatrous eastern nations mentioned in 1 Kings xviii. 28, and in Jer. xlviii. 37,[61] they tear and lacerate themselves most frightfully, occasionally cutting off portions of their beards, and, having singed them, throwing them upon the dead body. With respect to their tombs, these are of various sorts in different districts. In the gulph of Carpentaria, on the Northern coast, Flinders found several skeletons of natives, standing upright in the hollow trunks of trees; the skulls and bones, being smeared or painted partly red and partly white, made a very strange appearance. On the banks of the river Darling, in the interior of Eastern Australia, Major Mitchell fell in with a tribe, which had evidently suffered greatly from small-pox,[62] or some similar disease, and in the same neighbourhood he met with some remarkable mounds or tombs, supposed to cover the remains of that portion of the tribe which had been swept off by the same disease that had left its marks upon the survivors. On a small hill, overlooking the river, were three large tombs, of an oval shape, and about twelve feet across in the longest diameter. Each stood in the centre of an artificial hollow, the mound in the middle being about five feet high; and on each of them were piled numerous withered branches and limbs of trees, forming no unsuitable emblems of mortality. There were no trees on this hill, save one quite dead, which seemed to point with its hoary arms, like a spectre, to the tombs. A melancholy waste, where a level country and boundless woods extended beyond the reach of vision, was in perfect harmony with the dreary foreground of the scene.

Indeed, to those who have been from infancy accustomed to the quiet consecrated burying places of our own land,—spots which, in rural districts, are usually retired, yet not quite removed from the reach of “the busy hum of men;” to those who have always looked upon a Christian temple,

“Whose taper spire points, finger-like, to heaven,”

as the almost necessary accompaniment of a burial-place, the appearance of the native tombs in the desolate wilds of a savage and uncultivated country, must be dreary in the extreme. Scenes of this character must appear to the eye of a Christian almost emblematical of the spiritual blank—the absence of any sure and certain hope—in the midst of which the natives, whose remains are there reposing, must have lived and died. How striking is Captain Grey’s description of another tomb, which was found in a totally different part of New Holland, near the western coast, and at no great distance from the Swan River settlement! The scenery, not, indeed, in the immediate vicinity, but very near to the newly-made grave, is thus described. Even at mid-day, the forest wore a sombre aspect, and a stillness and solitude reigned throughout it that were very striking. Occasionally, a timid kangaroo might be seen stealing off in the distance, or a kangaroo-rat might dart out from a tuft beneath your feet, but these were rare circumstances. The most usual disturbers of these wooded solitudes were the black cockatoos; “but I have never, in any part of the world,” adds the enterprising traveller, “seen so great a want of animal life as in these mountains.” It was not far from this lonely district, in a country nearly resembling it, only less wooded and more broken into deep valleys, that a recent grave was found, carefully constructed, with a hut built over it, to protect the now senseless slumberer beneath from the rains of winter. All that friendship could do to render his future state happy had been done. His throwing-stick was stuck in the ground at his head; his broken spears rested against the entrance of the hut; the grave was thickly strewed with wilgey, or red earth; and three trees in front of the hut, chopped with a variety of notches and uncouth figures, bore testimony that his death had been bloodily avenged. The native Kaiber, who acted as guide to the travellers, gazed upon this scene with concern and uneasiness. Being asked why the spears were broken, the trees notched, and the red earth strewed upon the grave, his reply was, “Neither you nor I know: our people have always done so, and we do so now,”—quite as good a reason as many who think themselves far more enlightened are able to give for their actions. When a proposal was made to stop for the night at this solitary spot, poor Kaiber resisted it; “I cannot rest here,” said he, “for there are many spirits in this place.”[63]

When Mr. Montgomery Martin was in Australia, he obtained with some difficulty the dead body of an old woman, who had long been known about Sydney. Hearing of her death and burial in the forest, about twenty-five miles from his residence, he went thither, and aided by some stock-keepers, found the grave,—a slightly elevated and nearly circular mound. The body was buried six feet deep, wrapped in several sheets of bark, the inner one being of a fine silvery texture. Several things which the deceased possessed in life, together with her favourite dog, were buried with her,—all apparently for use in another world. The skull of this poor creature was full of indentations, as if a tin vessel had been struck by a hammer; light might be seen through these hollows, which had been caused by blows of whaddies (hard sticks) when she was young, and some bold youths among the natives courted her after this strange fashion. It seemed scarcely possible that marks so extraordinary could have been made in the human skull without fracturing it.[64]

In a society of men so simple and so little advanced in refinement or civilisation as the inhabitants of New Holland, it is evident that their wants must be few and easily satisfied, their stock of earthly riches very small and humble. Indeed, these people nearly always carry the whole of their worldly property about with them, and the Australian hunter is thus equipped: round his middle is wound a belt spun from the fur of the opossum, in which are stuck his hatchet, his kiley or boomerang, and a short heavy stick to throw at the smaller animals. In his hand he carries his throwing-stick, and several spears, headed in two or three different manners, so that they are equally suitable to war or the chase. In the southern parts, a warm kangaroo-skin cloak, thrown over his shoulders, completes the hunter’s outfit; but this is seldom or never seen northwards of 29° south latitude. These, however, are not quite all the riches of the barbarian, a portion of which is carried by his wife, or wives, as the case may be; and each of these has a long thick stick, with its point hardened in the fire, a child or two fixed upon their shoulders, and in their bags, in which also they keep sundry other articles, reckoned valuable and important for the comfort of savage life. For example; a flat stone to pound roots with, and earth to mix with the pounded roots;[65] quartz, for making spears and knives; stones, for hatchets; gum, for making and mending weapons and tools; kangaroo sinews for thread, and the shin-bones of the same animal for needles;—these and many similar articles, together with whatever roots, &c. they may have collected during the day, form the total of the burden of a female Australian; and this, together with the husband’s goods, forms the sum and substance of the wealth of an inhabitant of the southern land. In Wellesley’s Islands, on the north coast of New Holland, the catalogue of a native’s riches appears somewhat different, from his maritime position.[66] A raft, made of several straight branches of mangrove lashed together, broader at one end than at the other;—a bunch of grass at the broad end where the man sits to paddle,—a short net to catch turtle, or probably a young shark,—and their spears and paddles seem to form the whole earthly riches of these rude fishermen.[67] But one essential thing must not be overlooked in the enumeration of a native’s possessions. Fire, of procuring which they have not very easy means, is usually carried about with them; and the women commonly have the charge of the lighted stick, in addition to their other cares.

It is no very easy matter for civilized man to realise the perfectly free and unencumbered way in which these natives roam from place to place, accordingly as seasons or provisions may serve, constantly carrying with them a home wherever they go; and (what is far more difficult in civilised society) leaving no cares of home behind them in the spot from which they may have recently removed. Certainly there must be something very delightful in this wild sort of life to every one, who has from his early infancy been accustomed to its pleasure and inured to its hardships, neither of which are by any means to be measured by the standard of the cold and changeable climate of England. The grand objects of the savage, in almost every part of the globe, are to baffle his human enemies, and to assert his dominion over the lower races of animals. For these purposes, the activity, secrecy, acuteness, and sagacity of man in an uncivilised state are almost incredible; nor could we have supposed, were not the truth shown in numberless instances, that the senses of human beings were capable of so great perfection, their bodies and limbs of such exertion and agility, as they gain by continual practice and early training in the forests of America or Australia. In these bodily excellencies, the inhabitants of the last-named continent might safely challenge the whole world to surpass them. The natives once approached Major Mitchell’s camp by night; and though nine fire-sticks were seen in motion, no noise was heard. At length when the lights had approached within 150 yards, every one suddenly disappeared; the bearers preserving, all the while, the most perfect silence. It was then thought advisable to scare these noiseless visitors away, and a rocket was sent up, at which signal the English party rushed forward with a shout; and this had the desired effect. It is said that the natives regard, as an important matter, the falling of a star, which would account for their alarm at the rocket. On another occasion, when an English exploring party had discovered a few traces of natives near their place of encampment, an active search after them immediately took place; and it appeared that they had crept up within about one hundred yards of the camp, after which they had been disturbed, and had made off. Their mode of approach was by a stream of water, so as to conceal their trail; after which they had turned out of the stream up its right bank, and had carefully trod in one another’s footmarks, so as to conceal their number, although traces of six or seven different men could be perceived as far as the spot where they had been disturbed. From this point these children of the Bush had disappeared, as it were, by magic: not a twig was broken, not a stone was turned, nor could it be observed that the heavy drops of rain had been shaken from a single blade of grass. All efforts to hit upon the direction in which they had fled were to no purpose, except to put the explorers more constantly on the watch against beings who were often near them when they least dreamed of their presence. Human wisdom would enforce this lesson from such circumstances; but how often does heavenly wisdom lift up its voice to us in vain, teaching us by what is passing around us to be upon our watch constantly over our own conduct, since we are never very far from the Almighty presence of God himself!

To the quick-sighted natives, the surface of the earth is, in fact, as legible as a newspaper, so accustomed are they to read in any traces left upon it the events of the day.[68] For once, Major Mitchell informs us, he was able to hide so that these people could not find; but then his buried treasure was only a collection of specimens of stones and minerals, of the use of which they could know nothing, and concerning which they were little likely to have any suspicions. The notes written by the traveller, and concealed in trees, seldom escaped notice;[69] nor did provisions, nor, in short, any article which they could either use or suspect pass unobserved.

In Western Australia, Captain Grey, having galloped after some wild cattle which he had met in his journey, found, upon wishing to ascertain the hour, that his watch had fallen from his pocket during the chase. He waited until the rest of his party came up, and then requested Kaiber, their native guide, to walk back and find the watch. This, Kaiber assured the traveller, was utterly impossible, nor could his assertion be gainsaid; nevertheless, the watch was too valuable to be given up without an effort for its recovery. “Well, Kaiber,” said the captain, “your people had told me you could see tracks well, but I find they are mistaken; you have but one eye,—something is the matter with the other,” (this was really the case)—“no young woman will have you, for if you cannot follow my tracks, and find a watch, how can you kill game for her?” This speech had the desired effect, and the promise of a shilling heightened his diligence, so they went back together in search of the lost article. The ground that had been passed over was badly suited for the purpose of tracking, and the scrub was thick; nevertheless, to his delight and surprise, the captain had his watch restored to his pocket in less than half an hour.

Even in the simple arts and rude habits of the people of New Holland there are different degrees of advancement and progress to be observed. On the west coast, a few degrees to the north of the British settlement at Swan River, a great difference was noticed by Captain Grey in the arrangements of the native population. The country near the Hutt River is exceedingly beautiful and fertile, and it supports a very numerous population, comparatively with other districts. The exploring party found a native path or road, wider, more used, and altogether better than any before seen in that region. Along the side of this path were seen frequent wells, some of them ten or twelve feet in depth, which were made in a superior manner. Across the dry bed of a stream they then came upon a light fruitful soil, which served the inhabitants as a warran ground. Warran is a sort of yam like the sweet potato, and its root is a favourite article of food with some of the native tribes. For three miles and a half the travellers passed over a fertile tract of land full of the holes made by the natives in digging this root; indeed, so thick were they, that it was not easy to walk, and this tract extended east and west, as far as they could see. The district must have been inhabited a great many years, for more had been done in it to secure a provision from the ground by hard manual labour than it would have appeared to be in the power of uncivilised man to accomplish. It can be no subject of surprise that the various tribes of Australia, living in a wild country, and blessed with no clear nor adequate ideas of their Maker, should be exceedingly superstitious, as well as ignorant and simple. The strange aversion felt by some of them to a sort of muscle or oyster, found in fresh water, has already been mentioned; and the horror of the native population at the supposed effects of sorcery has also been detailed. Kaiber, Captain Grey’s guide, was bidden to gather a few of these muscles to make a meal for the party of hungry travellers in the Bush, but at first he would not move, declaring that if he touched these shell-fish, the Boyl-yas would be the death of him. Unable to bring any instance of mischief arising from them, he shrewdly answered, that this was because nobody had been “wooden-headed” enough to meddle with them, and that he intended to have nothing whatever to do with them. At last, with much difficulty he was prevailed to go, but whilst occupied in his task, he was heard most bitterly deploring his fate. It was his courage and strong sinews, he said, that had hitherto kept him from dying either of hunger or thirst, but what would these avail him against the power of sorcery? However, the muscles were brought, and Kaiber’s master made his meal upon them, but no persuasions could prevail upon him to partake of them. The same evening, the half-starved, half-clothed party of travellers were overtaken by a tremendous storm, which put out their fires, and they continued during the night in a most pitiable state from exposure to the cold and weather. All these misfortunes were set down by the sagacious native to the account of the muscles, nor was it till his master threatened him with a good beating, that Kaiber left off chattering to himself, while his mouth moved with the effect of the extreme cold:—

“Oh, wherefore did he eat the muscles?
Now the Boyl-yas storms and thunder make;
Oh, wherefore would he eat the muscles?”

Among the superstitions of Australia, that feeling of awe which revolts from mentioning even the name of a deceased person is very remarkable; and the custom of silence upon this subject is so strictly enforced, that it renders inquiry respecting the family or ancestors of a native extremely difficult.[70] The only circumstance enabling the inquirer to overcome this hindrance is the fact, that, the longer a person has been dead, the less unwilling do they appear to name him. Thus did Captain Grey obtain some curious information respecting their pedigrees and family customs; for he began with endeavouring to discover only the oldest names on record, and then, as opportunity served, he would contrive to fill up the blanks, sometimes, when they were assembled round their fires at night, encouraging little disputes among them concerning their forefathers, by means of which he was able to gain much of the information he wanted.

One very singular notion prevailing among the native population of Australia, and proving that the belief in a spiritual world and in a future state, is not quite extinct even among them, is the idea which they entertain of white people being the souls of departed blacks. This supposition may serve to explain the reason of the disagreeable process complained of by Sturt, who says, that every new tribe examined them, pulling them about, measuring the hands and feet of the strangers with their own, counting their fingers, feeling their faces, and besmearing them all over with dirt and grease. A more powerful feeling than curiosity even may have prompted this conduct, and they may have sought, impelled by superstition, to recognise in the foreigners their own kindred. But however that may have been, most travellers in Australia mention the peculiar idea alluded to. Captain Grey was once vehemently attacked by the caresses of an old, ugly, and dirty black woman, who recognised him as her son’s ghost, and was obliged to endure them. His real mother, the captain says, could scarcely have expressed more delight at his return, while his sable-coloured brothers and sister paid their respects to him, when the vehemence of a mother’s affection had somewhat subsided. He was convinced that the old woman really believed him to be her son, whose first thought, upon his return to earth, had been to revisit his old mother, and bring her a present!

The natives believe that the night-mare—a subject likely enough to give birth to superstition—is caused by some evil spirit, in order to get rid of which they jump up, seize a lighted brand from the fire, and, after whirling it round the head with a variety of imprecations, they throw the stick away in the direction where they suppose the evil spirit to be. They say the demon wants a light, and that when he gets it, he will go away. However, besides supplying this his need, they likewise take the precautions of changing their position, and of getting as near as they can into the middle of the group of their companions who are sleeping round the fire. If obliged to move away from the fire after dark, either to get water or for any other purpose, they carry a light with them, and set fire to dry bushes as they go along.

A profound respect, almost amounting to veneration, is paid in many districts of Australia to shining stones or pieces of crystal, which they call “Teyl.” These are carried in the girdles of men, especially of the sorcerers or corad-jes, and no woman is allowed to see the contents of the round balls made of woollen cord from the fur of the opossum in which these crystals are enclosed. They are employed as charms in sickness, and are sometimes sent from tribe to tribe for hundreds of miles on the sea-coast or in the interior. One of these stones, which was examined by an Englishman, to whom it was shown privately by a black, was of a substance like quartz, about the size of a pigeon’s egg, and transparent, like white sugar-candy. The small particles of crystal which crumble off are swallowed in order to prevent illness. Many other instances of the like superstitious folly might very easily be gathered from the writings of those who have had the best opportunities of becoming acquainted with the manners of the Australian tribes.

The following is from the pen of the Rev. G. King, a missionary of the Society for Propagating the Gospel, who speaks thus of the natives near Fremantle, in Western Australia: “The native children are intelligent and apt to learn, but the advanced men are so far removed from civilisation, and so thoroughly confirmed in roving habits, that all the exertions made in their behalf have found them totally inaccessible; but we have no reason to conclude that they have not a vague idea of a future state. They are exceedingly superstitious; they never venture out of their huts from sunset till sunrise, for fear of encountering goblins and evil spirits. When any of their tribe dies they say, ‘He’ll soon jump up, white man, and come back again in big ship;’ and when a stranger arrives, they examine his countenance minutely, to trace the lineaments of some deceased friend; and when they think they have discovered him they sometimes request him to expose his breast, that they may see where the spear entered which caused the life to fly away so long.”[71] Altogether, experience bears witness, in their case, of the same fact which is to be perceived in other parts of the globe, namely, that where there is little religion, there is often a great deal of superstition, and that those who do not “believe the truth,” almost always fall into the snares of falsehood, so as to “believe a lie.”

With all the disadvantages of having two races of men (one of which is thought inferior to the other) occupying the same territory; with the evils, likewise, unavoidably arising from the ease with which what is bad in Europeans may be learned and copied, and the difficulty of understanding or imitating what is good in us, the natives are placed in a very peculiar and unhappy situation. Their intercourse with the white men has hitherto, certainly, been productive of more injury, both moral and temporal, than benefit to them. Into the sad and disgusting details, affording a proof of this truth, which may be found in the evidence before the committees of the House of Commons upon the subject of transportation it will neither be suitable nor possible to enter. The fact is, indeed, acknowledged by men of all parties and opinions, while, by all right-minded men, it is deeply deplored.

Drunkenness and its attendant vices prevail to a fearful extent among the Europeans in New Holland, the lower orders especially; and what sins are more enticing than these to the ignorant, sensual savage? Tobacco and spirits, which the poor natives call “tumbledown,” are articles in constant request; and to purchase these of Europeans, the blacks will give almost anything they possess, even their wives.[72] Thus, a regular traffic in what is evil is carried on, and almost all that the heathen people of Australia learn from the so-called Christians with whom they associate, is to practise, with tenfold aggravation, sins which God abhors, and will not allow to go unpunished. Like children that have been always brought up in a family of foul-tongued transgressors, the very first words of English which the natives learn are words of wickedness and blasphemy; the only introduction to the name of their God and Saviour is in order that they may insult that holy Name, and blaspheme the Divine Majesty. And these lessons are taught them, let us remember, by men calling themselves, and perhaps even thinking themselves, civilised, enlightened, and Christian persons;—by men, certainly, belonging to a nation, which justly lays claim to these honourable epithets! But enough has been stated on this painful subject to fill every thoughtful mind with humiliation and fear, when it contemplates the “much” that “has been given” to civilised nations, and recalls the fixed rule of truth and justice, that so much the “more” will be required of them. Nor is this a matter concerning the British inhabitants of the colonies alone, and with which the nation at large has little or no concern. For if we inquire, who corrupt the natives? the answer is, our vile and worthless population, the very scum of mankind, whom we have cast out as evil from the bosom of their native land. But a further question naturally offers itself. Who were, in many instances, the passive, if not the active, corrupters of these very corrupters themselves? Who have neglected to provide means for their christian instruction, and so let them grow up to be worse than heathens, until they could be endured no longer in the land? What nation had within a single century more than doubled its population without having built or endowed a score of new churches? To whose neglect is it, partly, though not entirely, owing, that when heathens meet, in far distant countries, with our lower classes, or when their homes are visited in our great towns and cities, the very heathens are sometimes forced to yield the palm to them in wickedness and in sin? Such questions very nearly concern every Englishman, and they are, even now, only beginning to command the attention they deserve. High and low, rich and poor, clergy and laity, we are all alike implicated in those evils, which have arisen from national neglect and forgetfulness of God, and which are not unlikely to lead to national confusion and ruin. But we are still, thank God, blessed with a pure and apostolical Church in our native country, and this is a mighty instrument for good, if we will but support it, and render it as efficient as it ought to be. The children of our little sea-girt isle may almost be called the salt of the earth, so extensively is our naval and our moral power spread. If we can bring those children up in the right way, as dutiful children of God and faithful members of the Church of England, then, indeed, the blessings resulting from our efforts may make themselves felt in the very ends of the earth—in the solitary wilds of New Holland. But otherwise, if we continue to neglect our own people, and disgrace our profession of Christianity by encouraging tacitly the growth of heathenism around us, then we may judge by the moral and social evils which have already resulted from this course what the final consequences are likely to be. “If the salt have lost its savour wherewith shall it be salted: it is therefore good for nothing, but to be cast out and trodden under foot of men.” (Matt. v. 13.) With savages resembling those that dwell in the Australian forests, having no means of religious instruction among themselves, the only hope of producing an improvement in their moral and social character, must arise from their intercourse with christian people. But it must be repeated, unhappily, the great majority of christian people (especially in that country and among those classes where the native is most likely to have intercourse) are by no means adorning by their lives the faith and doctrine of that Master whose name they bear. Hence arises the deplorable condition of the natives, who are brought into contact chiefly with the lowest and worst of the Europeans, and who, beside many other hindrances, have the great stumbling-block of bad examples, and evil lives, constantly before them in their intercourse with the Christians. And, as though that were not enough, as though fresh obstacles to the conversion of these nations to God’s truth were needed and required, our holy religion is presented to them, not as it came from the hands of its Founder and his Apostles, inculcating “one Lord, one faith, and one baptism,” but such as man’s weakness and wickedness delight in representing it,—a strange jumble of various “denominations.” And this unworthy course has been followed by government itself. Without any pleas arising from conscience, or the principle of toleration to excuse this, the British government, in what little they have done for converting to Christianity some of the natives, have afforded their help to bodies of Christians bearing different names. Nor can it be said that the Church of England and Ireland was without any zealous ministers ready to undertake this most difficult task, trusting in God’s strength for help to accomplish it, at least in some degree. It is the confession of Dr. Lang himself, who is no friend to the Church of England, that the only two missions[73] to the natives existing in 1837 were, as all ought to be, episcopalian; but one of these was stated, on the best authority, in 1841 to be “not in an encouraging state,”[74] although a third mission, to belong to the Presbyterians, was about to be commenced under the auspices of Government, among the natives in another station. It is fearlessly asserted that all missions to the heathen supported by Government ought to be subject to episcopal control; and the reasons for this may be briefly added. First, there is no tenderness of conscience, nor claim to toleration, which can stand in the way of an English government spreading among its native subjects the doctrine and discipline of the English Church; supposing these willing to become Christians at all, they cannot have a prior claim upon us to be brought up as dissenters from the Church. Secondly, since the Scotch discipline, though it prevails over a very small part of our population, is yet established by law in one portion of the island, it may put in (as it has done) its claim for help from Government; but, without entering into argument respecting this, might we not safely put it to every wise and rightly judging Presbyterian, whether it is not better to waive this claim of theirs, than to perplex the progress of Christianity, by offering to the heathen Australians, at the same time, and by the same temporal authority, the Bible, which speaks of one Church, and the choice between two churches? And lastly, whatever unhappy scruples and divisions among Christians have arisen respecting episcopacy, surely, if men had a truly christian spirit within them, they would quietly consent to the instruction of the natives being placed in the hands of a Church which they cannot deny to be scriptural, and of a ministry, which for 1500 years from Christ’s birth no sect of men ever thought of denying to be the only apostolical ministry. It is indeed a strange spectacle which our Christianity must offer to the eyes of those that are really desirous of becoming converts. Either we “bite and devour one another,” or else we quietly set aside our Lord’s commands and prayers for our union, and contentedly agree to divide ourselves into as many parties, sects, or denominations, as we please; and having done so, we go and inoculate our heathen converts with our own love of separation. St. Paul was shocked at hearing of divisions in the Church of Corinth, but enlightened statesmen of the nineteenth century appear to be shocked at the idea of allowing Christianity to be offered to the heathens without its unhappy divisions! What, it may be asked with all reverence, would have been the success of the Apostles in evangelizing the Gentile world, if the gospel of Christ had been offered to the heathens of that age, under the same disadvantages with which men of the present age prefer to clog and impede their missionary efforts? Can we wonder, under these circumstances, at the slow progress of the gospel? Is it not rather wonderful that it should make any progress at all? If the world is reluctant to believe in Christ’s mission, would not His own words, (John xvii. 21,) suggest to us our miserable divisions as a chief cause of this?