heir bodies on these occasions are covered with oil, red
paint, and green leaves. I have seen two hundred at a meeting, but they
assemble double that number at times. The festival concludes in pitched
battle. There is a grand fight with clubs, or arrows and spears. Three or
four are generally killed in the onslaught, and as many of the survivors
as are fortunate enough to get a bite, feast upon the fat of the victims'
hearts. This fat is their richest dainty. Those who are able to form an
opinion on the subject, pronounce the aborigines of this colony to be
_cannibals_. Many of their children disappear, and it is generally
supposed that they are devoured by their friends and acquaintances. In
many districts of the interior, the blacks have lately committed many
depredations amongst the sheep, and many of the devils are shot without
judge or jury. Two natives are now in the jail of Melbourne under sentence
of death, for committing a dreadful murder upon two sailors who were cast
ashore from a whaler. These savages had been for thirteen years under the
instruction of a protector and others. They belonged originally to Van
Diemen's Land, but migrated to a part of this colony called Portland Bay.
They spoke English quite well, yet, notwithstanding all their advantages,
they perpetrated this cruel and cold-blooded murder, and then cunningly
hid the bodies in the ground. They were detected by the merest chance, in
consequence of their having in possession of a few articles which had
formerly belonged to the unhappy mariners. None of the natives is allowed
to carry fire-arms, and a heavy fine is inflicted upon any individual who
is known to give them spirits. They are passionately fond of spirits, and
next to these of _loaf bread_. The females are called by the males
"_Loubras_," and the males are designated "_Coolies_." There is not
promiscuous cohabitation. When a _Coolie_ reaches the age of twenty-one,
he is allowed to choose his own "_Loubra_." Every male who then takes
unto himself a helpmate, loses a front tooth, which is knocked out of him.
The natives generally tattoo their arms and breasts, but not their faces;
many carry a long white wooden pin, or a feather, pierced through the thin
part of the nose; and they all twist kangaroo teeth and the bones of
fishes more or less in their hair. Every thing small and diminutive they
call "_Pickaninnie_," and any thing very good, "_Merri jig_." Their
language is a queer, rattling,