538 



KING George's sound. March, 1836. 



round which the women and children were collected as 

 spectators ; the Cockatoo and King George's men formed 

 two distinct parties, and danced generally in answer to each 

 other. The dancing consisted in the whole set running 

 either sideways or in Indian file, into an open space, and 

 stamping the ground with great force as they marched 

 together. Their heavy footsteps were accompanied by a 

 kind of grunt, and, by beating their clubs and weapons, 

 and various other gesticulations, such as extending their 

 arms, and wriggling their bodies. It was a most rude, bar- 

 barous scene, and, to our ideas, without any sort of meaning ; 

 but we observed that the women and children watched the 

 whole proceeding with the greatest pleasure. Perhaps these 

 dances originally represented some scenes, such as wars and 

 victories; there was one called the Emu dance, in which 

 each man extended his arm in a bent manner, so as to imi- 

 tate the neck of that bird. In another dance, one man 

 took off the movements of a kangaroo grazing in the woods, 

 whilst a second crawled up, and pretended to spear him. 

 When both tribes mingled in the dance, the ground trembled 

 with the heaviness of their steps, and the air resounded with 

 their wild cries. Every one appeared in high spirits, and 

 the group of nearly naked figures, viewed by the light of the 

 blazing fires, all moving in hideous harmony, formed a perfect 

 representation of a festival amongst the lowest barbarians. 

 In Tierra del Fuego, we have beheld many curious scenes 

 in savage life, but never, I think, one where the natives were 

 in such high spirits, and so perfectly at their ease. After . 

 the dancing was over, the whole party formed a great circle 

 on the ground, and the boiled rice and sugar was distributed, 

 to the delight of all. 



After several tedious delays from clouded weather, on the 

 14th of March, we gladly stood out of King George's Sound 

 on our course to Keeling Island. Farewell, Australia ! you 

 are a rising infant and doubtless some day will reign a great 

 princess in the south : but you are too great and ambitious 

 for affection, yet not great enough for respect. I leave your 

 shores without sorrow or regret. 



