he means of subsistence." Yet,
melancholy though the reflection may appear, it is but too true, that
scarcely any hope of improving and civilizing these barbarous people can
be at present reasonably indulged. What a picture does the same humane
traveller already quoted draw of the tribes about the lower part of the
Darling, of whose character the Spitting Tribe may serve for a specimen.
"It seldom happened," he says, "that I was particularly engaged with a
map, a drawing, or a calculation, but I was interrupted by them or
respecting them. Our gifts seemed only to awaken on their part a desire
to destroy us, and to take all we had. While sitting in the dust with
them, according to their custom, often have they examined my cap,
evidently with no other view than to ascertain whether it would
resist the blow of a _waddy_, or short stick. Then they would feel the
thickness of my dress, and whisper together, their eyes occasionally
glancing at their spears and clubs. The expression of their countenances
was sometimes so hideous, that, after such interviews, I have found
comfort in contemplating the honest faces of the horses and sheep; and
even in the scowl of 'the patient ox,' I have imagined an expression of
dignity, when he may have pricked up his ears, and turned his horns
towards these wild specimens of the 'lords of the creation.' Travellers
in Australian deserts will find that such savages cannot remain at rest
when near, but are ever anxious to strip them by all means in their
power of every thing. It was not until we proceeded as conquerors, that
we knew any thing like tranquillity on the Darling; and I am now of
opinion, that to discourage at once the approach of such natives, would
tend more to the safety of an exploring party than presenting them with
gifts."

_Mulligo's Death._--The following curious account of the death of a
certain native of Western Australia is given by Captain Grey. Mulligo,
for such was the name of the unfortunate man, had severely hurt his
spine by a fall from a tree, and having lost the use of his lower limbs,
he gradually wasted away, until, in about two months' time, he became a
perfect skeleton, and was evidently dying. Soon after day-break, Captain
Grey came to the hut of Mulligo, and found him alive indeed, but
breathing so slightly that it was scarcely to be perceived. His head
rested on his aged mother's knees, who leaned over him in tears, while
other women were seated around, thei