192 TROPIC DAYS 



relied on a single weapon. It seldom failed, for his 

 right arm was strong and disciplined to a nicety. 



On a shallow tidal creek a settler had made a corduroy 

 crossing of the fibrous trunks of the Pandanus palms, 

 which the blacks of the neighbourhood turned to account 

 in the capture of fish. A few frail sticks, artlessly 

 interwoven with grass, formed a primitive weir at the 

 down-stream end of the crossing. Fish which went up 

 with the tide frequently found themselves stranded on 

 the way down, for the water passed freely between 

 the palm-tree trunks without affording them right of 

 way, and the rude weir often stopped for ever belated 

 bream, mullet, and barramundi. This simple trap, 

 though it does not appear to be put into use on the coast 

 generally, seems almost to indicate an instinctive 

 knowledge of a studied design described to me by an 

 observant friend who has travelled into many an odd 

 nook and corner of Queensland. On a deep but narrow 

 tributary of the Georgina River a permanent trap 

 on a large scale was wont to be maintained. A tree 

 had been felled across the stream so that each end of 

 the trunk was supported by the respective bank. 

 Straight stakes were driven firmly into the bed of the 

 creek as closely together as possible, the heads resting 

 against the horizontal tree-trunk. This palisading 

 formed the base of an embankment of packed grass 

 and rubbish, sufficiently tight to raise the level of the 

 stream about three feet. In the middle of the embank- 

 ment, and about one foot below water-level, a hole about 

 one foot square had been cut. A platform about ten 

 feet long by three feet wide, having a fall of about one 

 foot and formed of a number of straight saplings laid 

 parallel with the stream, and supported by a couple 

 of transverse bearers on four stout forked sticks, re- 

 ceived the escape from the sluice. At the lower end of 



