in four acts, intended to pourtray the leading events m human 



childhood, the seriousness and absurdities often seen in courtship, 

 the excitements of hunting, and the fiery passions of a tierce 

 triljal conflict. Unlike the plays of civilization death was not 

 mimicked, — that was with them no subject for jest nor even for 

 serious conversation, it was for the contemplation of the mind in 

 mournful silence. The whole affair was highly instructive, and 

 was kept up with interest from shortly after dark until near 



Adelaide. It was specially got up at Christmas time, but oh ! 

 what a contrast, " what a falling-ofF was here." The terrible 

 scourge of both white man and black, drink, had done its deadly 

 work, and the drunken remnants of a broken and non-propagating 

 tribe, vainly attempted to perform, with European i 

 and European tinware, a villainous compound of ; 

 civilized rant and drivel— a hideous insult to their brave old 

 forefathers' names and memories ; and all for what ? — tlfe hat was 

 passed round for cash to purchase more drink, and they got it. 



Continuing our course still eastward fi'om where we saw the 

 first grand corroboree, we pass on our left the house tlicu occupied 

 by an old and respected identity, Mr. Nathaiiifl Jhih's. and on 

 our right land held by another identity eiiualiy well known and 

 loved for his large-hearted benevolence, .Mr. Dean, a London 

 brewer. Still continuing the same course we reach a small creek 

 just before the road turns off to the right. This portion of 

 Mr. Dean's land was unfenced and covered with magnificent 

 wattle trees. Mr. Hales' land was also open here, Vjut almost 

 hare of undergrowth. On the north side of this road, only a few 



is the western boundary of an anoient native buvyiiiu-ground, 

 covering possibly an acre of land ; it was one of thr oldi.vt and 

 the most sacred burying-grounds of tlx^ Adcl.iidi' tribe, the 

 Westminster Abbey of the aborigines ; it wis sacred to the last 

 rest of aboriginal royalty, and the most distinguished men and 

 women of tlie tribe. The queen had died away down by the 

 Torrens, and some distance north-east from where St. Peter's 

 College now stands, I do not know the distance from thence to 

 the burying-ground, but I should think it to be at least four miles. 

 Devoted men of the tribe— not attended by the women— carried 

 the remains of their queen, on a sort of litter, all that distance to 

 her grave. The grave was dug by a few men, who used their 



