262 BUSH WANDERINGS. 



right to it, I never knew them steal. They are a manly, 

 independent race, certainly not cowards. Some of them 

 are the merriest vagabonds under the sun. It would be 

 impossible to make a slave of an Australian Black ; and 

 they always appeared to me to possess a degree of savage 

 intelligence, superior to that of many other wild men. 

 Some of the men are very athletic fellows, far from bad- 

 looking ; but I cannot say much for the personal appear- 

 ance of the females. Strange to say, these ladies seem 

 to care nothing for finery or ornaments, a dirty blanket, 

 or opossum rug wrapped loosely round them, and a short 

 black pipe stuck in their hair completes their toilette. 

 The Black's opinion of the white man is pithy and 

 laconic : — " Big one fool, white fellow, all same working 

 bullock." 



No improvements, or alterations, seem to surprise 

 them. The Australian native, unlike his neighbour the 

 New Zealander, makes no endeavour to keep pace with 

 the times. " To be content, is his natural desire." The 

 easier he can get his bread, the better he likes it ; and if 

 he can obtain suflBcient food for the day, he cares little 

 about the morrow. Nor is this to be wondered at, when 

 he has been accustomed from his birth to lead a careless, 

 wandering life, in a country where Nature has so liberally 

 supplied him with food, and where the climate is such 

 that a bush-gunny, ah, or mia-mia, will shelter him in 

 the most inclement weather. Some of our chaps I used 

 to like very much ; and when my old friend, King Der- 

 mot, is gathered to his fathers, I trust his prediction to 



