Sacrifice Cannibalism
Small Number killed in Fights
Corrobborees
“Full Dress”
Women’s Ornaments
Painted Bodies
Burying the Nuts
Change of Food
Teaching Corrobborees
Making new ones
How Brown’s Creek got its Name
Kulkarawa
“Mi-na” (Mee-na)
It has often been given out as a fact that the blacks grew so tired of nuts and vegetable foods during a bon-yi feast that to satisfy the craving that grew upon them for animal food, they terminated the meeting by the sacrifice of one gin or more. This is quite untrue, according to my father. As I have shown, the blacks had plenty of variety in the way of food during these gatherings, and, besides, on their way to the Bon-yi Mountains they travelled along the coast as much as was possible, and got fish and oysters as they went along. Then, after the feast was all over, they repaired again to the coast, where they lived for some time on the change of food.
The following passage from Dr. Lang’s “Queensland,” issued in 1864, was quoted once by a gentleman (Mr. A. W. Howitt), who doubted its accuracy and wished my father’s opinion on the subject:-” At certain gatherings of some tribes of Queensland young girls are slain in sacrifice to propitiate some evil divinity, and their bodies likewise are subjected to the horrid rite of cannibalism. The young girls are marked out for sacrifice months before the event by the old men of the tribe.” Dr. Lang, says Mr. Howitt, gave this on the authority of his son, Mr. G. D. Lang, who, as the good doctor puts it, “happened to reside for a few months in the Wide Bay district.”
My father says there is no truth in this statement; it is just hearsay, as there was no such thing as sacrifice among the Queensland aborigines, neither did they ever kill anyone for the purpose of eating them. They were most certainly cannibals, however, as they never failed to eat any one killed in fight, and always ate a man noted for his fighting qualities, or a “turrwan” (great man), no matter how old he was, or even if he died from consumption! It was very peculiar, but they said they did it out of pity and consideration for the body-they knew where he was then-” he won’t stink!” The old tough gins had the best of it; no one troubled to eat them; their bodies weren’t of any importance, and had no pity or consideration shown them! On the other hand, for the consumer’s own benefit this time, a young, plump gin would always be eaten, or any one dying in good. condition.
I do not mean to infer that the aborigines ate no human flesh during a bon-yi feast, for some one might die and be eaten at any time, and then, too, they always ended up with a big fight, and at least one combatant was sure to be killed. People speak of the great numbers killed in fight, but after all they were but few, though wounds, and big ones, too, were plentiful enough.
At night during the bon-yi season the blacks would have great corrobborees, the different tribes showing their special corrobboree (song and dance) to each other, so that they might all learn something fresh in that way. For instance, a Northern tribe would show theirs to a Southern one, and so on each night, till at last when they left to journey away again, they each had a fresh corrobboree to take with them, and this they passed on in turn to a distant tribe. So from tribe to tribe a corrobboree would go travelling for hundreds of miles both North and South, and this explains, I suppose, how it was that the aborigines would often sing songs the words of which they did not understand in the least, neither could they tell you where they had first come from.
When about to have a corrobboree, the women always got the fires ready, and the tribe wishing to show or teach, their special corrobboree to the others, would rig themselves. out in full dress. This meant they had their bodies painted in different ways, and they wore various adornments, which were not used every day. Men always had their noses pierced (women never had), and it was considered a great thing to have a bone through one’s nose! This bone was generally taken from a swan’s wing, but it might be from a hawk’s wing, or a small bone from the kangaroo’s leg; and was supposed to be about four inches long. It was only worn during corrobborees or fights, and was called the “buluwalam.”
In every day life a man always wore a belt or “makamba,” in which he carried his boomerang. This belt measured from six feet to eight feet in length, and was worn twisted round and round the waist. It was netted either from ‘possum or human hair-but only the great men of the tribe wore human hair belts. A man could also wear “grass-bugle” necklaces (“kulgaripin “) at any time; these being made from reeds cut into little pieces and strung together on a string of fibre. But in addition to his everyday dress, during a corrobboree a blackfellow would wear round his forehead a band made from root fibre, very nicely plaited, and painted white with clay; also the skin of a native dog’s tail (cured with charcoal and dried in the sun), or, rather, a part of one, for one tail made three headdresses when cut up the middle. This piece of tail stuck round the head like a beautiful yellow brush the natives called it “gilla,” and the forehead band ” tinggil.” Then on his arm kangaroo- skin bands were worn, and these had to be made from the underbody part of the skin, which was of a much lighter colour than the back. Lastly, a man was ornamented with swan’s down stuck in his hair and beard, and in strips up and down his body and legs, back and front; or, if he was an inland black, parrot feathers took the place of the down.
Women wore practically no ornaments except necklaces, and feathers stuck in their short hair in bunches, with bees’ wax. (The feathers and bees’ wax were always ready in their dillies.) Their hair was always kept short, as they were apt to tear at each other when fighting. Men’s hair grew long, and some of the great men had theirs tied up in a knob on the top of the head, and when such was the case they wore in this knob little sticks ornamented with yellow feathers from the cockatoo’s topknot. The feathers were fastened to the ends of the sticks with bees’ wax, and these sticks were stuck here and there in the knob of hair, as Japanese places little fans; and they looked quite nice.
When a good fire was raging the gins all sat in rows of three or four deep behind the fire. The old and married gins would have an opossum rug folded up between their thighs, which they beat with the palms of their hands, and so kept time with the song they sang. The young women beat time on their naked thighs. They held the left wrist with the right hand, and then, with the free hand open, slapped their thighs, making a wonderful noise and keeping excellent time. A pair of blackfellows standing up in front of the gins between them and the fire, would beat two boomerangs together, and these men were in “full dress,” as were those who danced on the other side of the fire. First these latter stood some distance off in the dark, but so soon as the singing and beating of time began they would dance up to the others.
The men and women learning the corrobboree stood behind the rows of gins seated on the ground, and two extra men, other than those with boomerangs, stood placed like sentinels before the women, with torches in their hands, and they were generally also strangers learning. The torches were fashioned from tea-tree bark, and made a splendid blaze, aiding the fire in its work of lighting up the dancers for the benefit of those concerned. Some few women would dance, but they kept rather apart in front of the others, and their movements were different to those of the men somewhat stiffer. Always there were two or three funny men among the dancers, men who caused mirth and amusement by their antics even the blacks had members who could “act the goat.”
The aborigines painted their bodies according to the tribe to which they belonged, so in a corrobboree or fight they were recognised at once by one another. In the former there would perhaps be ever so many different tribes mixed up, for they might all know the same dance. Father says it was a grand sight to see about 300 men at a time dancing in and out, painted all colours. There they would be, men white and black, men white and red, men white and yellow, and yet others a shiny black with just white spots all over them, or, in place of the spots, rings of white round legs and body, or white strips up and down. Yet again there were those who would have strange figures painted on their dark skins, and no matter which it was, one or the other, they were all neatly, and even beautifully, got up. There they would dance with their head-dress waving in the air-the swan’s down, the parrot feathers, or the little sticks with the yellow cockatoo feathers. And, of course, the rest of the dress added to the spectacle-the native dogs’ tails round their heads, the bones in their noses, and the various belts and other arrangements.
The dancers would keep up these gaieties for a couple of hours and then all would return to camp, where they settled down to a sort of meeting somewhat after the style of a Salvation Army gathering. One man would stand up and start a story or lecture of what had happened in his part of the country, speaking in a loud tone of voice, so that all could hear. When he had finished, another man from a different tribe stood forth and gave his descriptions, and so on till all the tribes had been represented. Then perhaps a man of one tribe would accuse one from another of being the cause of the death of a friend, and this would lead to a challenge and fight.
Things would be kept going sometimes up to midnight, when quiet reigned supreme again till the daybreak cry for the dead. And if this was a strange sound when two or three tribes were gathered together, what must it have been coming from all these many peoples assembled for a bon-yi feast. It would start perhaps by one old man wailing out, and then in another direction some one would answer, then another would take up the cry, and so on, till the different crying and chanting of all the different tribes rose on the air, with the loud “swears” and threats of what they would do when the enemy was caught, relieving the wailing, monotony.
So the days went on for a month or more, and the blacks employed their time in various ways; some would hunt, while others made weapons preparing for the great fight which always came off at the finish When a time for this was fixed, all would repair to an open piece of country and there would keep the fight going for a week or so of the way this was managed I will speak another time.
At the finish of the great fight the tribes would start off homewards, parting the very best of friends with each other, and carrying large supplies of bon-yi nuts with them. The blacks of the district sought out a damp and boggy place- soft mud and water, with perhaps a spring and buried their nuts there, placed in dilly-bags. Then off they went to the coast, living there on fish and crabs for the space of a month, when they returned, and, digging up the nuts, had another feast, relishing them all the more no doubt because of the change to the seaside! The nuts when unearthed would have a disagreeable, musty smell, and would be all sprouting, but when roasted were improved greatly. The blacks from afar would also go to the coast if they had friends there who invited them, and they would be glad of a corrobboree that took them seawards, if only for the one reason that they might have a change of food.
I omitted to mention that on the way to these feasts the blacks in those days would often catch emus in the vicinity of the Glass House Mountains, and also get their eggs. This my father knew from what was told him, though none were found when he accompanied them. The feathers the gins used to stick in their hair on state occasions.
At any time when a certain tribe had learnt a new corrob- boree they would take the trouble to go even a long distance in order to pass it on. They first sent messengers-two men and their gins-to say they had learnt, or perhaps made, a fresh song and dance, and were coming to teach it. They would very likely stay a week and then go home again, or perhaps a number of tribes would all congregate. Father has seen about five hundred aborigines at a corrobboree on Petrie’s Creek, and they came from all parts-some from the far interior. Some of them there had never seen a boat before, and made a great wonder of it, looking it over and examining it everywhere.
Father knew an old Moreton Island man, a great character, head of that tribe, who was a good hand at making corrobborees. He would disappear at times to a quiet part of the island (the others saying he had gone into the ground), and when he reappeared he had a fresh song and dance to impart. The blacks would sing sometimes of an incident which had happened, and in the dance make movements to carry out the song; for instance, if they sang of rowing they moved in the dance like an oarsman At times if the words were decided upon, the whole tribe would suggest movements which best carried them out One of the songs my father can sing was composed by a man at the Pine, and was based upon an incident which really happened. Father heard of the happening at the time, and afterwards learnt the corrobboree. Here is the whole story :-
Three boats went out in winter time turtling from Coochi-mudlo Island (“Kutchi-mudlo “-red stone). It was after the advent of the whites, and the natives wanted the turtles for sale, not for their own use. In one of the boats was a man called Bobbiwinta, who was always successful in his ventures after turtle, being very good at diving, and clever in handling the creatures. Presently this boatload espied a turtle, and gave chase, and whenever Bobbiwinta got a chance he jumped overboard, diving after it. However, it was an extra big one, and he could not manage to bring it up. Those watching above saw bubbles rise to the surface, and knew he was blowing beneath the water to cause the bubbles, so that some one would come down to his assistance. Two more men jumped in at this, and catching the turtle, they managed to turn him over, and bring him alongside the boat. Others in the boat got hold of the creature, and between them all it was hauled on board. Then the men in the water got in.
It was not till now, when the excitement was passed, that they found a man was missing-Bobbiwinta. All looked and could see him nowhere; men jumped overboard and searched, and the other boats coming up helped, but to no avail, he was gone. A great wailing and crying arose then, and by-and-bye a shark was seen floating quietly about, and all remaining hope went.
What seemed to strike the blacks was that they had seen no sign of the man, not even a particle of anything-it was such a complete disappearance. Natives are exceedingly tender-hearted in anything like this, and they were dreadfully cut up. Bobbiwinta’s wife was in one of the boats. All camped that night at Kanaipa (towards the south end of Stradbroke), and next morning the beach was searched and searched, but nothing, not even a bone, was found.
The story of Bobbiwinta’s mysterious disappearance was told from tribe to tribe; the natives seemed as though they could never get over the sadness of it. One night the man already mentioned belonging to the Pine was supposed to have had a dream, in which a corrobboree came to him descriptive of the event. The song ran as though the man from under the water, appealed for help-pitifully, pleadingly, all in vain. This corrobboree was sung and danced everywhere, and years afterwards the mere mention of it was enough to cause tears and wailings. The words had this meaning: “My oar is bad, my oar is bad; send me my boat, I’m sitting here waiting,” and so on, sung slowly. Then quickly, “dulpai- i-la ngari kimmo-man” (jump over for me friends), and so to the finish. The following is the first portion of the song.
* Music arranged by W. A. OGG.
Another good corrobboree was based on an incident which happened when my father was a boy. This time it had reference to a young gin-Kulkarawa-who belonged to the Brisbane or Turrbal tribe. A prisoner, a coloured man (an Indian), Shake Brown by name, stole a boat, and making off down the bay, took with him this Kulkarawa, without her people’s immediate knowledge or consent. The boat was blown out to sea, and eventually the pair were washed ashore at Noosa Head-or as the blacks called it then, “Wantima,” which meant “rising up,” or “climbing up.” They got ashore all right with just a few bruises, though the boat was broken to pieces. After rambling about for a couple of days, they came across a camp of blacks, and these latter took Kulkarawa from Shake Brown, saying that he must give her up, as she was a relative of theirs; but he might stop with them and they would feed him. So he stayed with them a long time, and the bon-yi season coming round, he accompanied them to the Blackall Range, joining in the feast there.
Before the bon-yi gathering had broken up, Shake Brown, grown tired of living the life of the blacks, left them to make his way to Brisbane. He got on to the old Northern Road going to Durundur, and followed it towards Brisbane. Coming at length to a creek which runs into the North Pine River, there, at the crossing, were a number of Turrbal blacks, who, recognising him, knew that he was the man who had stolen Kulkarawa. They asked what he had done with her, and he replied that the tribe of blacks he had fallen in with had taken her from him, and that she was now at the bon-yi gathering with them. But this, of course, did not satisfy the feeling for revenge that Shake Brown had roused when he took off the young gin from her people, and they turned on him and killed him, throwing his body into the bed of the creek at the crossing. A day or two later, men with a bullock dray going up to Durundur with rations, passing that way, came across Brown’s body lying there, and they sent word to Brisbane, also christening the creek Brown’s Creek, by which name it is known to this day.
Kulkarawa, living with the Noosa blacks, fretted for her people, and she made a song which ran as follows: “Oh, flour, where oh where are you now that I used to eat? Oh, oh, take me back to my mother, there to be happy, and roam no more.” She evidently missed the flour which her own tribe got from the white people. The Noosa blacks made a dance to suit the song, and the corrobboree was considered a grand one.
Kulkarawa, after living with the Noosa blacks for about two years, was at length brought back to her own people. Father happened to be out at the Bowen Hills or “Barrambin” camp, with two or three black boys, looking for some cows, at the time she arrived. The strange blacks bringing her, both went and sat down at the mother’s hut without speaking, and the parents of the young gin, and all her friends, started crying for joy when they saw her, keeping the cry going for some ten minutes in a chanting sort of fashion, even as they do when mourning for the dead. Then a regular talking match ensued, and Kulkarawa was told all that had happened during her absence, including the finding and murder of Shake Brown (or “Marri-dai-o” the blacks called him), on his way to Brisbane. Then she told her news, and Father heard afterwards again from her own lips of her experiences.
The Noosa blacks introduced the corrobboree at the “Barrambin” camp, and so it was sung and danced all round about, spreading both near and far.
In the song of a corrobboree there were not generally many words, but these were repeated over and over again with different shades of expression. Once my father had the honour of being the subject of a corrobboree; they sang of him as he was seen sailing with a native crew through the breakers over Maroochy Bar. The incident and its danger I will mention later. The song described the way he threw the surf from his face, etc. Who knows but what it lives somewhere yet, for it was possible for a corrobboree to travel to the other end of the continent.
A Manila man (who afterwards died at Miora, Dunwich, and whose daughter lives there now) once taught a song he knew to the Turrbal blacks. They did not understand its meaning in the least, but learnt the words and the tune, and it became a great favourite with all. My father also picked it up when a boy, and it has since soothed to sleep in turn all his children and two grandchildren. Indeed Baby Armour (the youngest of the tribe) at one time refused to hear anything else when his mother sang to him. “Sing Mi-na” (Mee-na), he would say, if she dared try to vary the monotony. Here is the song:
In learning a fresh corrobboree some of the young fellows were very smart, and, as to going to a dance, they were just as keen about it as many white boys are.