Spinifex and Sand<br />A Narrative of Five Years' Pioneering and Exploration in Western Ausralia by David Wynford Carnegie (non fiction books to read TXT) 📖

man before 1892. And yet this little chap in a few months is as spruce and clever as any white boy of the same size, and, far from showing any fear or respect, evinces a distinct inclination to boss any white children with whom he comes in contact. The Australian aboriginal is indeed a puzzle: he lives like a beast of the field, using neither clothes nor house, and to the casual observer is a savage of the lowest type, without brains, or any senses other than those possessed by animals; yet he has his peculiar laws and customs—laws of which the Mosaic rule of “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” is the foundation.

In some districts, and probably all over the continent, were inquiry made, marriage laws of the most intricate kind are strictly adhered to; and though his ceremonies and rites are unique in their barbarity, yet when properly handled he is capable of becoming a useful and intelligent member of the community. Great tact is necessary in the education of the aboriginals. Neglect turns them into lazy, besotted brutes who are of no use to anybody; too kind treatment makes them insolent and cunning; too harsh treatment makes them treacherous; and yet without a certain amount of bullying they lose all respect for their master, and when they deserve a beating and do not get it, misconstrue tender-heartedness into fear. The “happy medium” is the great thing; the most useful, contented, and best-behaved boys that I have seen are those that receive treatment similar to that a highly valued sporting dog gets from a just master; “to pet” stands for “to spoil.” Like most black races, the native soon develops a love for liquor; but fortunately there exists a stringent law which prohibits the giving of drink to a black-fellow, except at the request of his master.

It is marvellous how soon a tame boy comes to despise his own people, when he far outstrips any white man in his contemptuous manner of speaking about a “—— black fella.”

One visitor to Bayley's Reward Claim, brought with him from Victoria, a highly educated aboriginal who had been born in civilisation, and who afterwards married his master's parlourmaid. Jim was a tremendously smart boy, could ride, shoot, box, bowl, or keep wicket against most white men, and any reference to his colour or family was deeply resented. On his first appearance the cook at Bayley's (the wife of one of the miners) proceeded to converse with him in the sort of pigeon-English commonly used, and handed him a plate of scraps for his dinner, calling out, “Hi, Jacky-Jacky, this one your tucker,” to which Jim replied with stern dignity, “Who the h— are you calling Jacky-Jacky? Do you think I'm a —— black-fellow?” The cook, a quiet and ladylike little woman, who had been a schoolmistress “at home” was not less astounded by the excellent English, than by the delicate way in which his disapprobation was expressed. This story of Jim reminds me of one about his master. He was a man who liked to have everything about him smart and showy, and was quite willing that every one should look upon him as a tremendous swell with the purse of a Croesus. I heard some diggers discussing him: one said he had come to buy up all the mines in the place and must be a man of importance. “Oh,” said his mate, “any one could see 'e was a toff—I seed him black 'is boots and brush his teeth.” “Yes, and 'e wears a —— collar too.” Thus was exemplified the old adage “Fine feathers make fine birds.”

Camped near Bayley's was Godfrey Massie, a cousin of Brownes and brother of the once famous cricketer. He had taken a contract to sink a shaft on the adjoining lease, but, owing to the death of one of his mates and his own incapacity to work, due to a “jarred” hand, he was forced to throw up the job, and quickly agreed to my proposal that he should form one of my party. People get to a very casual way of doing things on the goldfields. There was no formality about my arrangements; Godfrey helping me pack at a store, and during our work I said without preface, “You'd better come too;” “Right,” said he, and the matter was settled. Godfrey, a son of one of the leading Sydney families, had started life in an insurance office, but soon finding that he was not cut out for city life, went on to a Queensland cattle-station, where he gained as varied a knowledge of bush life as any could wish for; tiring of breeding and fattening cattle for somebody else's benefit, he joined the rush to the Tasmanian silver-fields and there he had the usual ups and downs—now a man of wealth, and now carrying his load of bacon and oatmeal through the jungle on the steep Tasmanian mountains. While a field continues to boom, the up-and-down business does not so much signify, but when the “slump” comes it is distinctly awkward to be in a state of “down.” It is then that the average speculator bemoans his hard fate, can't think how he is to live; and yet manages to do so by borrowing from any more fortunate fellow, and almost invariably omitting to pay him back. A most lively and entertaining class of men when shares are up, but a miserable, chicken-hearted lot when the luck turns.

Some, however, of these wandering speculators, who follow from “boom” to “boom,” are of very different mettle and face their luck like men. Such a one was Godfrey, who, when he found himself “broke” in Tasmania, set to work and burned charcoal until he had saved enough money to pay his passage to Perth; and from there he “humped his bluey” to Coolgardie, and took a job as a miner on his uncle's mine until brighter times should come. The Australian can set us a good example in some matters, and I must confess with sorrow that nine out of every ten young Englishmen on the goldfields, of the same class, would not only be too haughty to work, but would more readily take to billiards, cards, and borrowing when they found themselves in low water—and no man sinks lower than an English “gentlemen” who has gone to the bad, and no one despises him more than an Australian miner, or is more ready to help him when he shows signs of trying to help himself by honest work. I had known Godfrey long enough to be sure that, in the bush, he was as good a man as I could get, hard as nails, and willing to work for other people, as energetically as he would for himself, so long as they treated him fairly.

My party was now complete, and included a little fox terrier, “Val” by name, whose parents belong to Tom and Gerald Browne, and come of the best stock in Australia. I had intended to take another man, but, since I could not get one of the right sort, I had no idea of handicapping the party with one of the wrong. At the last minute, however, Charlie Stansmore changed his mind, greatly to my delight, for I knew him to be as sterling a fellow as one could hope to find. Charlie, too, had knocked about from Queensland to West Australia, now on a station, now a miner, and now engine-driver. His people were amongst the earliest settlers on the Swan River, and could well remember the great massacre of whites by the blacks; subsequently they moved to Victoria, where they have farming land at the present time. A very quiet, reserved man was Charlie, who took a great interest in mechanical work and astronomy, a strong man physically and mentally. Thus at last we were ready to tackle whatever the “great unknown” had in store for us.

With hearty wishes for success from the few friends who knew where we were bound for, we shook the mud of Coolgardie from our feet and took the northern road to Menzies on July 9, 1896. Breaden, Stansmore, Massie, Warri, nine heavily laden camels, and a dog made a fine show, and I confess I was near bursting from pride as I watched them.

Who could foresee that one of us was destined never to return?

Acting on the principle of making mention of matters which I have noticed excite an amount of interest in “Home” people, though to us, who are used to them, their importance hardly seems to warrant it, I subjoin a list of the articles and provisions with which we started:—

8 pack-camels. Bulls. South Australian bred. Of ages varying from five to fifteen years. 1 riding-camel. Bull. S.A. bred. Age five years. Average value of camels; £72 10 shillings each. 8 pack saddles of Afghan make. 1 riding saddle, made to order by Hardwick, Coolgardie, specially light, and stuffed with chaff. A very excellent saddle. 1 camel brand. D.W.C. 1 doz. nose pegs. 6 coils of clothes line. 3 coils of wallaby line (like window-blind cord) for nose lines. 5 hanks of twine. 2 long iron needles for saddle mending (also used as cleaning-rod for guns). 2 iron packers for arranging stuffing of saddle. Spare canvas. Spare calico. Spare collar-check. Spare leather, for hobbles and neck-straps. Spare buckles for same. Spare bells. Spare hobble-chains. 6 lbs. of sulphur. 2 gallons kerosene, to check vermin in camels. 2 gallons tar and oil, for mange in camels. 2 galvanised-iron water casks (15 gallons each). 2 galvanised-iron water casks (17 gallons each), made with bung on top side, without taps, for these are easily broken off. 1 India-rubber pipe for drawing water from tanks. 1 funnel. 3 three-gallon buckets. 1 tin canteen (2 gallons). 2 canvas water tanks, to be erected on poles to hold water baled from soak, etc. 4 canvas water-bags (10 gallons each.) 4 canvas water-bags (1 1/2 gallons each) slung on camels' necks. 6 Ballarat picks and handles. 3 shovels. 1 axe (7 lbs.). 1 hammer (7 lbs.). 1 engineer's hammer. 3 tomahawks. 1 saw. 1 small flat iron anvil. 1 small pair of bellows. 1 iron windlass-handle and fittings. 1 1-inch chisel. 1 brace and bits. 1 3/4 inch auger bit. 1 emery stone. 4 iron dishes. 1 sieve-dish. 1 iron dolly. 1 soldering iron for mending water casks. 2 sticks solder for mending water casks. 1 bottle spirits of salts for mending water casks. 1 case of tools. Screwdriver, small saw, hammer, chisel, file, gimlet, leather-punch, wire nipper, screw wrench, large scissors, etc. 1 case of tools for canvas work (sewing needles, etc.). 2 lbs. of copper rivets. Screws. Bolts. 1 box copper wire. Strong thread. 1 1/2 lbs. 3-inch nails. 1 lb. 2-inch nails. 50 feet of rope. 1 duck tent, 6 ft. x 8 ft. 4 flies, 10 ft. x 12 ft., for covering packs. 4 mosquito nets. 3 saucepans. 3 quart pots. 6 pannikins. 6 plates, enamelled tin. 6 knives, forks, and spoons. 1 stewpan. 1 frying pan, 1 small medicine case (in tabloid form). 7 lbs. Epsom salts. 6 bottles of Elliman's embrocation. 3 bottles of carbolic oil. 3 bottles of eye lotion. 3 bottles of eucalyptus oil. 2 galvanised-iron concertina-made boxes for perishable goods, e.g., ammunition, journals, etc. 2 twelve-bore shot-guns. 4 colt revolvers, .380 calibre. 4 Winchester repeaters, .44 calibre. 200 twelve-bore cartridges. 300 Winchester do. 200 revolver do. 1 bicycle lamp (for night observations). 1 5-inch theodolite and tripod. 2 prismatic compasses. 2 steering compasses (Gregory's pattern). 1 telescope. 1 pair field-glasses. 1 map case. 1 drawing-board. Drawing materials, note-books, etc. 1 binocular camera, with films. (N.B. Not good in hot climate.) 1 tape measure. 14 50-lb. bags of flour (700 lbs.). 35 doz. 1-lb. tins of meat (420 lbs.). 5 doz. 1-lb. tins of fish (60 lbs.). (N.B.—Not fit for consumption—thrown away.) 200 lbs. rice. 70 lbs. oatmeal. 6 doz. tins of milk (condensed). 8 doz. tins baking powder. 4 doz. 1-lb tins of jam. 140 lbs. sugar, 40 lbs. salt (for salting down meat—kangaroo, etc.). 30 lbs. tea. 2 doz. tinned fruit. 2 doz. tinned vegetables. 10 lbs. currants. 10 lbs. raisins 40 lbs. dried apricots. 6 doz. 1-lb. tins butter. 4 doz. Liebig's Extract. 1 1/2 doz. pepper (1/4-lb. tins). 1/2 doz. curry-powder (1/4-lb. tins). 9 packets Sunlight soap. 1 box of candles. 6 lbs. cornflour. 28 doz. matches. 50 lbs. tobacco. 100 lbs. preserved potatoes. 4 bottles good brandy. 1 bottle good rum. 1 hair clipper. Blankets, boots, flannel shirts, trousers (Dungaree and moleskin); etc.

The stores were calculated to last six months with care and longer should we encounter good country where game could be shot. Everything that could be was packed in large leather bags, made to order. Other expeditions have carried wooden brass-bound boxes; I do not approve of these—first on account of their own weight and bulk; second, when empty they are equally bulky and awkward; third, unless articles are of certain shapes and dimensions they cannot be packed in the boxes, which do not “give”