mp nearer water.

THE PARTY HALT AT CUDDULDURY.

We passed a small pond, the name of which was Burdenda, and afterwards
came to Cudduldury where we encamped with the intention of making what
further search we could for Mr. Cunningham.

INTERVIEW WITH THE KING OF THE BOGAN.

While the men were pitching the tents at this place I rode with the
natives, at their request, towards some ponds lower down. There, by their
cooeys and their looks, they seemed to be very anxious about somebody in
the bush beyond the Bogan. I expected to see their chief; at all events
from these silent woods something was to emerge in which my guides were
evidently much interested, as they kept me waiting nearly an hour for

The unseen genius of the wood.

At length a man of mild but pensive countenance, athletic form, and
apparently about fifty years of age, came forth, leading a very fine boy,
so dressed with green boughs that only his head and legs remained
uncovered; a few emu-feathers being mixed with the wild locks of his
hair. I received him in this appropriate costume, as a personification of
the green bough, or emblem of peace.*

(*Footnote. The Grecians used to supplicate with green boughs in their
hands, and crowns upon their heads, chiefly of olive or laurel, whence
Statius says:

Mite nemus circa ----
Vittatae laurus, et supplicis arbor olivae.)

One large feather decked the brow of the chief; which with his nose, was
tinged with yellow ochre. Having presented the boy to me, he next
advanced with much formality towards the camp, having Tackijally on his
right, the boy walking between, and rather in advance of both, each
having a hand on his shoulder.

The boy's face had a holiday look of gladness, but the chief remained so
silent and serious, without however any symptoms of alarm, that my
recollections of him then, and as he appeared next day, when better
acquainted, are as of two distinct persons.

To this personage all the others paid the greatest deference, and it is
worthy of remark that they always refused to tell his name, or that of
several others, while those of some of the tribe were familiar in our
mouths as household words. The boy, who was called Talambe Nadoo, was not
his son; but he took particular care of him. This tribe gloried in the
name of Myall, which the natives nearer to the colony apply in terror and
abhorrence to the wild blackfellows, to whom they usually attribute the
most savage propensities.