The Explorers (50 page)

23 January—Left M Lagoon at half past five a.m. Passed Diary Creek and camped on Packsaddle Creek where the mosquitoes were something terrible…Diary Creek gets its name from an old diary being found there, and Packsaddle Creek from an old saddle being found there, both articles supposed to have belonged to Leichhardt's party. Nicely timbered country.

24 January—Left Packsaddle at half past eight a.m., the horses having got away and the men were from half past five looking for them. Travelled all the morning, passed Margaret Lagoon and are now camped on the banks of the River Leichhardt. There is an old tumbled-down public house close to the river crossing. The country is again plains and not much timber. The heat is intense, no rain yet but every appearance of it. Yesterday we did about twenty miles and today eighteen. There are plenty of crocodiles in the rivers but I have not seen many. Mr Warner had a fearful headache when we got to camp and we hope he has not had a touch of the sun.

25 January—Left the Leichhardt camp at 7 a.m. and arrived at ‘The Rocky' at half past ten, a distance of fourteen or fifteen miles. Warner (Mr Murray's man) who had not been well last night got some terrible fits and has evidently had a sunstroke. He managed to drive the packhorses into camp but got ill immediately on arrival. Mr Watson and two men from his station twelve miles distant came up and he, being a friend of Harry's, stopped all day and night with us. He gave us an account of his being speared by the blacks some little time ago. He was of great assistance in trying to hold Warner during his fits. We are afraid Warner won't get over it, as he is still unconscious.

26 January—A plague of beetles last night. Warner is slightly better and has not had a return of the fits, but our going any further this morning is quite out of the question. We did not put up the tents last night for the first time as it looked so very unlike rain and it was too hot to sleep in it, so when a thunderstorm broke in the middle of the night, we all had to turn out and put them up as fast as we could and only just put the finishing touches when down it came. Mr Watson went off before we were up. It is fine and very hot today (evening). Warner is much worse this evening. He is quite unconscious and has been so since 10 a.m. It is most painful to hear his groans. A terrific thunderstorm this evening at eight, got a little wet.

27 January—Warner died at three this morning. He never became conscious but his groans were something terrible at night. Poor Mr Murray sat with him. A death in a camping party is an awful thing. Mr Murray went away at 7 a.m. to Augustus Downs and brought back Mr Watson and two men with pick and shovel to dig a grave. Harry and I spent a miserable day until half past three by ourselves in camp guarding the body from native dogs. They have just sewn up his body in his blanket in the midst of a heavy thunderstorm, while some of the others are digging the grave. The poor fellow was quite young, strong, tall and healthy three days ago. ‘In the midst of life we are in death.' Mr Watson and men will camp all night with us, and we shall leave early tomorrow morning.

Mr Watson brought us some milk, bread, plain cake and a watermelon which were great treats; at least the milk was. I have got into that state from not eating that I could not manage even cake. Our food in camp consists of nasty dirty hairy dried salt beef, dark brown sugar (half dust) and hard dry damper. There are some tinned meats, but the jolting has made them uneatable. There is some jam, but who can eat it with hard dry damper and no butter.

28 January—They finished the grave at 2 a.m. and so poor Warner was buried in the dead of night. The horses were troublesome so we did not start till twenty to nine this morning. Only went seven miles as the heat became so intense it was dangerous to travel, and camped till five o'clock at the side of a waterhole. Travelled till half past eight and them camped at the Ridgepoll on Fiery Creek about nineteen miles from the Rocky. The food we are living upon is something horrible, and I have scarcely touched a thing since we left Normanton; just two or three mouthfuls at each meal, but make up for the want of food by drinking any amount of tea (without milk) which is detestable…

20 February—The rainy season seems to have set in properly. Mr Shadforth and Ernest came home…They brought a new black gin with them who can't speak a word of English. The usual method here of bringing in a new wild gin is to put a rope around her neck and drag her along from horseback, the gin on foot.

21 February—The new gin whom they call Bella is chained up to a tree a few yards from the house, and is not to be loosed until they think she is tamed.

23 February—Still raining heavily. The new gin Bella made Topsy (an old one) jealous and the latter threw a firestick at her and said she would kill her. The stick flew past Mrs Shadforth's face, so Madame Topsy got a thrashing.

24 February—Bella, the new gin, decamped in the night, whether it was because of Topsy's threat to kill her, or discontent at this life we don't know. They tracked her as far as the O'Shanassy but that river is a ‘banker' so they could not afford to go after her any further. There is no mail expected for two months owing to the floods…

2 May—Mr Favenc and Mr Crawford took the horses back to the waterhole we were at yesterday to get a drink as they could not go on, as it was so probable we might be some time in finding more water. They left at half past six and returned at three and we packed up immediately after they had had a hurried lunch and left at four. Harry and I remained about the camp doing odd jobs all the morning. We are reduced to damper and honey as we have finished our cooked meat and have no water with which to boil the one piece that remains. We have some anchovy paste, but are afraid to eat it owing to its tendency to create thirst. We came on until about eight tonight, Mr Favenc carrying the lantern as on the previous night. We have not come upon water, but the horses can do without it for some hours tomorrow and we trust we shall come upon it soon.

I had a tiny scrap of water spared me this morning to rinse my hands and face, but I feel extremely ‘grubby'. We came over very rough country this afternoon, and at times we all had narrow escapes from being thrown off our horses, for the holes were so numerous and deep that it was only by holding on tightly and being on our guard that we managed to stay in our saddles when the horses stumbled into the holes.

3 May—It has been a very eventful day. We left camp soon after 8 a.m., anxious to hurry on as much as possible to reach water early. We continued our right course (west) for an hour and seeing no signs of water (viz. emus and native dog tracks or flocks of birds), we changed our course north. We went on till 2 p.m. and were despairing of getting water, when we saw not three miles straight ahead of us a blacks' fire (or smoke rather) and we made for it in desperation, knowing there would be water where niggers were.

We reached the fire and were going round it, when Favenc made a gallop and Crawford followed from behind with us, and we knew they must have seen blacks. Presently we got up to them and saw Favenc holding a man with one hand and in the other pointing his revolver at him, and Crawford holding a gin. They were a peculiar sight. The blacks had never seen a white man before, we soon found out by their showing no fear when Favenc pulled out his revolver.

When Mr Favenc came upon them, they climbed a small tree, and when he made signs for them to come down the nigger threw his gin down, thinking that might satisfy him, and it was some time before the black was induced to come down himself. Favenc tied him with a strap to prevent his running away before he had led us to water.

We were not going to do them any harm, so they remained captives till we had shown them, by giving them some drops of water to drink (which we had kept specially for the purpose) and signing to them what we wanted them to do. They then went on with a great many gesticulations which we suppose meant fright, and after taking us about three miles we came upon the main blacks' camp and a waterhole. There were seven men and nine gins and some piccaninnies. The gins bolted at our appearance and we saw nothing of them. One poor little baby was left by the mother in her fright and it was toddling about crying.

The blacks wear no clothing of any sort, and one of them had a carpet snake which he had killed tied round his waist ready to cook for his supper. The poor things were quiet and frightened, but not having been molested by white men they did not attempt to do us any harm. When we went down to the waterhole they all took up their boomerangs, so Harry remained on the bank with his revolver ready to fire at the first throw. They soon put them down however and came and stood about twenty yards away while we had dinner. We gave them some damper and they seemed pleased.

We left their camp at 4 p.m. and came on till eight through a dreadful scrub. How we got through in the dark without accident I don't know. We soon had the fire lit and the billy boiling for our meagre supper. We saw spears and things lying on the ground in the blacks' camp, but we took nothing away as harm has been done so often by white men stealing the blacks' only means of gaining their food. The man we caught first had a white plaited string made of bark round his head, and he threw it down when Favenc let him loose, as a sign of submission and peace. All the men amongst these blacks are circumcised.

C
ARL
L
UMHOLTZ

I Was Perfectly Shocked, 1883

A Norwegian student of theology, Carl Lumholtz travelled to the rainforests of north Queensland in 1880 in search of zoological and ethnographic specimens. His search was spectacularly successful, for he collected most of the larger mammals of the Atherton forests, many of which were then new to science, during his sojourns with the Aborigines. His account of the discovery, then loss, in March 1883 of the tree kangaroo which was eventually to bear his name, is a classic of Australian biological exploration.

The blacks had for several days been talking about a dance to be held in a remote valley.

A tribe had learned a new song and new dances, and was going to make an exhibition of what it had learned to a number of people. The Herbert Vale tribe had received a special invitation to be present, and the natives assured me that there would be great fun. My action was determined by the fact that Nilgora, who owned the splendid dog Balnglan…would be there. But I had my misgivings on account of the horses, for as we were in the midst of the rainy season I ran some risk of not being able to bring them back again.

Early one morning we set out, a large party of men, women and children. A short time before reaching our destination we were met by a number of natives, for they expected us that night. Some of the strangers were old acquaintances of my people, but this fact was not noticeable, for they exchanged no greetings. In fact an Australian native does not know what it is to extend a greeting. When two acquaintances meet, they act like total strangers, and do not even say ‘good-day' to each other. Nor do they shake hands. After they have been together for some time they show the first signs of joy over their meeting.

If a black man desires to show how glad he is to meet his old friend, he sits down, takes his friend's head into his lap, and begins to look for the countless little animals that annoy the natives, and which they are fond of eating. When the one has had his head cleaned in this manner, the two change places, and the other is treated with the same politeness. I accustomed myself to many of the habits of the natives during my sojourn among these children of nature, but this revolting operation, I confess, was a great annoyance to me.

A more emphatic sign of joy at meeting again is given by uttering shrieks of lamentation on account of the arrival of strangers to the camp. I was frequently surprised at hearing shrieks of this sort in the evenings, and found upon examination that they were uttered in honour of some stranger who had arrived in the course of the day. This peculiar salutation did not last more than a few moments, but was repeated several evenings in succession during the visit of the stranger. The highest token of joy on such occasions is shown by cutting their bodies in some way or other.

Later in the afternoon we arrived in the valley where the dance was to be. Those who were to take part in the dance had already been encamped there for several days. We had also taken time by the forelock, for the festivities were not to begin before the next evening. Several new arrivals were expected in the course of the next day, among them Nilgora. A proposition was made that two men should be sent to meet him on the mountain and request him to look for boongary on the way down, and early the next morning before sunrise they actually started, after being supplied with a little tobacco.
^†

My men and I had encamped about 200 paces from the others. I made a larger and more substantial hut than was my usual custom. It did not reach higher than my chest, but the roof was made very thick and tight on account of the rain. At first the blacks were very timid, but gradually the bravest ones among them began to approach my hut. As was their wont, they examined everything with the greatest curiosity. Yokkai walked about in the most conscious manner possible, and assumed an air of knowing everything. He brought water from the brook, put the tin pail over the fire, and accompanied by one or two admirers went down to the brook to wash the salt out of some salt beef which was to be boiled. The matches, the great amount of tobacco, my pocket handkerchief, my clothes, and my boots—all made the deepest impression upon the savages. After unpacking, a newspaper was left on the ground. One of the natives sat down and put it over his shoulders like a shawl, examining himself to see how he looked in it; but when he noticed the flimsy nature of the material, he carelessly let it slip down upon the ground again.