dy, just as a mark of love. But generally speaking, it is
only their _enemies_ they eat, and they _do_ eat them whenever they can
kill them. There are a great many tribes of natives, and they look upon
one another as enemies. If a man of one tribe dare to come, and hunt in
the lands of another tribe, he is immediately killed, and his body is
eaten.

The bodies of dear friends--are treated with great honor, placed for some
weeks on a high platform, and then buried. Mothers prize highly the dead
bodies of their children. A traveller met a poor old woman wandering in
search of roots, with a stick for digging in her hand, and with no other
covering than a little grass mat. On her back she bore a heavy load. What
was it? The dead body of her child,--a boy of ten years old; this burden
she had borne for three weeks, and she thought she showed her love, by
keeping it near her for so long a time. Alas! she knew nothing of the
immortal spirit, and how, when washed in Jesus' blood, it is borne by
angels into the presence of God.

But though these savages are so wicked, and so wild, they have their
amusements. Dancing is the chief amusement. At every full moon, there is
a grand dance, called the Corrobory. It is the men who dance, while the
women sit by and beat time. Nothing can be more horrible to see than a
Corrobory. It is held in the night by the light of blazing fires. The men
are made to look more frightful than usual, by great patches, and stripes
of red and white clay all over their bodies; and they play all manner of
strange antics, and utter all kinds of strange yells; so that you might
think it was a dance in HELL, rather than on earth.

It may surprise you to hear these wild creatures have a turn both for
music and drawing. There are figures carved upon the rocks, which show
their turn for drawing. The figures represent beasts, fishes, and men,
and are much better done than could have been supposed. There are few
savages who can sing as well as these natives; but the _words_ of their
songs are very foolish. These are the words of one song,

"Eat great deal, eat, eat, eat;
Eat again, plenty to eat;
Eat more yet, eat, eat, eat."

If a pig could sing, surely this song would just suit its fancy. How sad
to think a man who is made to praise God forever and ever, should have no
higher joy than eating!

And what is the appearance of these people?

They are ugly, with flat noses, and wide mouths, but their