refuses spears her in some part of the body. The attractive native female shows many scars. The Rev. C. G. Nicolay, of Fremantle, mentions an instance in the Victoria district (W.A.) where two young people regarded each other with such affection that they willingly received three severe punishments so that the native law would allow them to live together. That a wife often bestows bewitching smiles on other men than her husband is known, but if she be caught the least punishment is a spear in the thigh; while if it be safe, the irate husband throws spears at the legs of the paramour.
The natives are divided into great families with distinctive names such as Ballaroke, Pdonarup, Ngotak, Nagarnook, Nogonyuk, Mongalung, Narrangur, &c. Every tribe is descended from stems of these families, and marriage is allowed with particular ones. Nearly every family possesses a cognizance, or family sign, or Kobong, as the natives term it. This represents some animal, bird, or vegetable, and a mysterious connection exists between the Kobong and the tribe. Grey writes that if the animal or bird is killed or the vegetables gathered at certain periods, dire are the results, for these are their omniscient gods or goddesses. Indeed, they believe that some individual of the species is their nearest friend.
The hut or mia is easily constructed, and demands no ingenuity and little labour. A few boughs obtained in the woods are stuck into the ground around an area of a few feet, and meet at the top in the form of a tent. In the colder regions a more durable hut is erected by placing pronged sticks some distance from each other, and a pole is run from prong to prong. Strong sticks lean against these, and the crevices are carefully filled with boughs and bark of trees to prevent the wind from entering. Some huts have an oval form, and, on the coast, are roofed with dry weeds and boughs of trees, and at the base have a diameter (in one instance) of 14 feet. The huts nearer Perth were about 4 feet high. Occasionally the hut is a mere break or shelter from the wind. More often the natives do not trouble about the erection of a hut at all, and lie by their fires where they cook their food. One place is their home but for a short while, and they roam over their district in search of food, and when found rest until they have eaten it. They may go in companies or they may go alone. At night when they are together the darkness of the plain or hill is dotted here and there with the bright lights from their fires. An indispensable desideratum of native life at nights is a roaring fire, which serves not only for warmth, but to frighten away the hovering spirits which inhabit the darkness. At these camps each family has a separate hut, and the husband sleeps in his hut with his wife and children, or should they have no hut they lie within the light of the fire. Some vista in the woods or convenient station beneath the jarrah, the banksia, or the mangrove is picked upon, so that ample firewood may be obtained. The early part of the night is made merry by communion, tale-telling, and singing. There are several fires, and the married men sit, perhaps in solemn dignity, amid the chatter and singing of their wives and children. Each married man has a separate fire, and the unmarried gather round still another one, the brightest of all, and there the chief merriment is centred. The great receding shadows of the trees, the play of light on their faces, and the constant moaning of the wind among the leaves, make a spectacle and an impression to be remembered by the European. One young fellow relates the instances of a journey, of a battle or duel; another describes the exciting chase of a kangaroo, or the cunning spearing of one while it browsed on the good pasture. Much applause greets their tales, and presently the husbands are attracted by the shouts of delight, and with lighted sticks in their hands, leave the bosoms of their families and join the gay young fellows. Other tales are told, generally in a monotonous chant, and the dark faces beam in concentrated interest as each huntsman or warrior recounts his exploits. The women gather near and chant the deeds of some relative, or incite in stirring tones the warriors to some act of revenge. Then, as the night progresses, sleep encompasses one after another, until all are still, and nothing is to be seen but their dark forms lighted by the flickering flames of the dying fires.
Perhaps they may elect to hold a corroboree, than which no more attractive display is made by natives. It is a dramatic representation and rude opera, and imitates the hunt for the timid kangaroo, or verges on the lascivious, or represents the fight. As in the classic days the ancients piped and sang and acted in some verdant grove, so the Australian aborigines act and sing amid the eucalyptus woods, upon the banks of some stream, in a valley, or a declivity of the hills. Their theatre is not bounded with stone walls erected by man, and covered with a roof—a vista in the forest made by Nature supplies a more healthful and beautiful resort. The close forest ranks make their walls; the blue canopy, their ceiling; and the green sward, the resplendent stars, the shivering leaves, their stage effects. And while the sable performers are lost in the turns of the dance, or intensely excited in showing the audience their dexterity in the hunt, they inhale the pure air and are fanned by the invigorating night breeze. Previous to the beginning of the performance the men retire to a secluded spot, and there take infinite trouble to gorgeously paint themselves in red and yellow stripes, but whether to make themselves appear more grotesque, or more attractive, is not known. Round their loins strings from the hair of the opossum are wound, from which hang pendants which almost produce the effect of a kilt. Fresh grease, sticks, feathers, shells, or other ornaments are placed in the hair. When after some time their toilets are adjusted to a nicety and the perfection of native vanity, they repair to the scene of the corroboree, their eyes already glistening in the expectancy of applause and approving glances from assembled females. In the centre of the arena a large fire tosses the flames into space, the light glistens on the leaves and brings into bolder relief the fantastic striped colours of red, white, and natural black on their almost naked bodies, and also supplies light for the performance. On one side is erected a thick and impenetrable break of bushes, semi-circular in shape, about 4 feet high and 30 feet long. The break is used for two things, either as a barricade from which the performers make their entrance, or as a protection for the audience against a cold night wind. On another side are the audience, men and women sometimes sitting apart, and sometimes together. The young women are adorned with ornaments of feathers and shells on their heads, the wales and scars on their bodies, and a loin-cloth to cover their nakedness, but many of the older ladies are satisfied that "Nature unadorned is adorned the most." Across their knees is a taut opossum skin, on which the time to dance or chant is beaten. An old native stands apart who may be looked upon as the leader of the orchestra.
All is ready. Anticipation is shown in every face. No imperfectly painted curtain rises to herald the opening. The leader opens with a slow, soft, weird refrain, and marks time with a wand in his hand. His song is gradually swelled by women and men joining in, until all sing with irresistible vigour.
