A Single Tree
Page 33
The verses [of the Aranda Rain Songs] below refer to the mythical rain ancestor of Kaporilja. He is imagined as sitting on the cracked rock-plates whence the spring waters are still flowing out at the present day. Above him the sky is always dark with clouds. His hair is wound around tightly with hairstring lest the rain that is continually pouring forth from it should turn into violent cloudbursts. Sometimes he pulls out a lock from the encircling headband, and then a flash of lightning illuminates the rain-dark landscape. Here are some of the verses:
Among the rippling waters he sits without a move,
It is Kantjia himself who is sitting without a move.
Moveless like a boulder he is sitting;
His hair bedewed with rain he is sitting.
On the fissured rock-plates he is sitting;
On rock-plates welling with water he is sitting.
Bedrizzled with rain he sits without a move;
Among the rippling waters he sits without a move.
Bedrizzled with rain, a reddish glow overspreads him;
Among the rippling waters a reddish glow overspreads him.
The sky is clouded with water-moss;
The sky sends down scattered showers.
Over the rock-plates the flow is echoing,
Over the rock-plates green with moss.
“Moss-covered one,
Spread forth your waters!”
“Come, moss-covered one,
Pour forth your waters!”
“Come, foam-crests,
Come, spread over the waters!”
“Come, drifting twigs,
“Come, spread over the waters!”
Over the sun-darkened river sands calls the voice of the thunder, the voice of the thunder;
From billowing storm-clouds calls the voice of the thunder, the voice of the thunder.
The first storm-showers.
The first storm-showers are falling here and there, are falling here and there.
The first storm-showers.
The first storm-showers are pouring down in torrents, are pouring down in torrents.
A flash of lightning
Shivers trees in pieces.
A flash of lightning
Shocks and terrifies.
Overflowing its banks into side-channels,
The flood rolls down its waves.
An Australian Viewpoint, Hawthorn Press, Melbourne, 1950
Charles Sturt
1846
1
At ten miles we came to a ridge rather higher than the rest, which we ascended. From it we could see about eight miles to the North, the same gloomy desert extending. I was anxious to pass into the 27th Meridian, and had started in the hope of gaining the 26th but that anticipation had early been crushed, I might have been in the line of 28°, a mile or two above or a mile or two below and I was debating whether I should go on to the present limit of our vision, when a trifling event decided me on returning to the Cart. A parrot flew over us from the hills and passed away to the North, but, he was screaming and his flight was indicative of perplexity and alarm. He flew about bewildered like a bird that has been blown out to sea during a gale, and after going out of sight returned with the same loud cry and went back to the hills. It was a trifling circumstance but it had a powerful effect in convincing me of the utter desolation of that terrible desert. Had the bird seen a tree like one he frequented he would have pitched but from his [airly?] eminence he could see nothing. “Well Joseph,” I said, “if that quick racer of the Sky can find no place of rest, I am sure we shall not. I have seen enough of this dreary region so we will turn back.” We accordingly did so, and stopped for the Night after going four or perhaps five miles.
2
The Camp of the Natives at night was a fine and interesting spectacle. It was on the brow of a long slope up which there was a line of fires, between which we could see the dark figures of the Men moving about. The noise of the women pounding the Seed for Cakes was like that of a Manufacturing town, and they kept up until after 10 oclock. These people had no covering of any kind that we could see, nor did they bring forward a weapon.They appear to live on Seeds principally at this season of the year with roots, and such wild fowl and fish as they can catch.
3
This Native is circumcised and not lost a tooth. I am therefore in hopes that he has come in from the Westward and that we shall induce him to accompany us. I took him this afternoon to the Boat, the use of which he evidently understands and he pointed directly to the North west as the point in which there was water, making motions as if swimming and explaining the roll of waves, and that the water was deep. If we should indeed find an inland sea it would make up to us for every delay, but whether or no I humbly look to the guidance of Providence at this to us important juncture. It appears or it will appear to me almost providential indeed if this old man should be the means of guiding us on coming to us as he had done, a lonely and a solitary being, at a moment when we most want him after all our efforts to encourage the Natives near us have failed. This man is no ordinary man to have come to us as he did, and he appears to have great presence of Mind & to be exceedingly intelligent.
4
That the Interior was once covered with the waters of the Ocean, there can be no doubt. Its depression and barreness, its salsolaceous productions and absence of all timber, its sands, and the manner and direction in which those sands are laid or have similar to that occurring on the Murray cliffs, are so many proofs not only that such was the Case, but that the same phenomena were in operation both in the Latitude of the Murray and here at the same time.
The Central Australian Expedition, 1844–1846: The Journals of Charles Sturt,
Richard C. Davis (ed.), The Hakluyt Society, London, 2002
Fraser Sutherland
1930s
On one of those Sundays I was driving from Manangatang to Piangil, a matter of twenty-five miles. I used to allow more than two hours for that journey in the T Ford – half an hour at least for a possible puncture, and time to get myself into some sort of shape for the service. There was a hot north wind blowing and I had the two parts of the glass windscreen pushed out in order to get as much wind as possible, even though the air was fiery. There were magpies crouching on the side of the track in what little shade they could find. Their mouths open, they were almost unwilling to move out of the way. What other birds or animals I saw were in like distress. There were cows huddling in what little shade the farm sheds could give, and fowls, dogs, horses – all much the worse for the weather. I may not have been moaning but I certainly felt that I was having a thin time, and was pretty sorry for myself. Was this a real place for a civilized gentleman like myself? On the road past Prooinga, and now more than half way to Piangil, I made a discovery. I was watching the Mallee scrub; I had been conscious of it on each side of the road during the past hot months but now I began to see the Mallee with the eyes of understanding. It dawned on me how fresh and spry it was, giving out glorious purple green shoots, and showing a brave beauty in this harsh, hot, desolate countryside. Here, while we humans and animals were sorry for ourselves and moaning, this queer Eucalypt was growing in a new profusion of life and freshness. In these conditions the Mallee was coming into its own – in the heat of a very dry February.
As I thought of this, I realized that underneath the soil, hidden from sight, is the big Mallee root, which stores quite large quantities of moisture during the year. In the hot dry times the moisture is drawn up, and the beauty and wonder of the Mallee is revealed.
This very simple discovery came to me with great force – just when I needed it. Here was I at the commencement of my ministry, privileged to be up amongst these people, helping with them to shape the Kingdom of God in this pioneer district. I was faced with plenty of problems, opportunities, decisions, responsibilities, for I was far away from other ministerial advice. It was up to me, it was my work, my struggle; and it was easy to sweat and wonder, and groan, and grow ineffective, a
nd feel lonely – particularly when so many conditions made it difficult. It came to me amazingly that I was not alone. Like the Mallee I had resources – the tremendous unlimited unseen resources of God.
Sand, Sweat and Sermons, Hornet Publications, Melbourne, 1974
Abel Tasman
1642
2 December
Early in the morning we sent our own pilot Major Francoys Jacobz in command of our pinnace manned with 4 musketeers and 6 rowers, all of them furnished with pikes and side arms together with the cockboat of the Zeehaen, with one of her second mates and six musketeers in it, to a bay situated N.W. of us at upwards of a mile’s distance in order to ascertain what facilities (as regards fresh water, refreshments, timber and the like) may be available there. About three hours before nightfall the boats came back, bringing various samples of vegetables, which they had seen growing there in great abundance, some of them in appearance not unlike a certain plant growing at the Cabo de Bona Esperance, and fit to be used as pot-herbs; and another species with long leaves and brackish taste strongly resembling persil de mer or samphou. The pilot Major and second mate of the Zeehaen made the following report, to wit:
That they had rowed the space of upwards of a mile round the said point where they had found high but level land, covered with vegetation and not cultivated but growing naturally (by the will of God) abundance of excellent timber and a gently sloping watercourse in a barren valley; the said water though of good quality being difficult to procure, because the watercourse is so shallow that the water could be dipped with bowls only.
That they had heard certain human sounds, and also sounds resembling the music of a small trump or a small gong not far from them though they had seen no one.
That they had seen two trees about 2 or 21/2 fathoms in thickness measuring from 60–65 feet from the ground to the lowermost branches, which trees bore notches made with flint implements, the bark having been removed for the purpose; these notches forming a kind of steps to enable persons to get up the trees and rob birds’ nests in their tops were fully five feet apart; so that our men concluded that the natives here must be of very tall stature or must be in possession of some sort of artifice for getting up the said trees. In one of the trees these notched steps were so fresh and new that they seemed to have been cut less than four days ago.
That on the ground they discovered the footprints of animals, not unlike those of a tiger’s claws. They also brought on board a small quantity of gum, of a seemingly very fine quality, which had exuded from trees, and bore some resemblance to gum-lac. That at one extremity on the point of the way they had seen large numbers of gulls, wild ducks, and geese, but had perceived none further inward though they had heard their cries, and had found no fish except different kinds of mussels forming small clusters in various places.
That the land is pretty generally covered with trees, standing so far apart that they allow a passage everywhere and a look-out to a great distance, so that when landing, our men could always get sight of natives or wild beasts unhindered by dense shrubbery or underwood, which would prove a great advantage in exploring the country.
That in the interior they had in several places observed numerous trees which had deep holes burnt into them at the upper end of the foot, while the earth had here and there been dug out with the fist so as to form a fireplace; the surrounding soil having become as hard as flint through the action of fire. A short time before we got sight of our boats returning to the ships, we now and then saw clouds of dense smoke rising up from the land (it was nearly always north of us) and surmised this must be a signal given by our men because they were so long coming back. When our men came on board again, we inquired of them whether they had been there and made a fire, to which they returned a negative answer; adding, however, that at various times and points in the wood they had also seen clouds of smoke ascending. So there can be no doubt there must be men here of extraordinary stature.
Abel Jansz Tasman's Journal of His Discovery of Van Diemen's Land and New Zealand
in 1642 With Documents Relating to His Exploration of Australia in 1644,
Fascimile of a book published by Frederik Muller and Co.
(F. Adama Van Scheltema and Anton Mensing), Amsterdam, 1898.
Thomas Griffith Taylor
1911
Forecast Future Close Settlement In Australia
Australians must always bear in mind that a large part of the continent, somewhere about 40%, will never support aught but a nomadic pastoral occupation, flourishing in occasional (and exceptional) rainy seasons, and only in the case of large holdings, managing to tide over the lean years. Indeed, what can be expected with the 10-inch isohyet, sweeping from North-West Cape across the heart of the continent almost to Cloncurry, and then bending southwards towards Bourke and the Murray mouth? All to the south and west of this line, except two broad coastal areas in the west (Perth and Pilbarra), and another around the South Australian Gulfs, are beyond reclamation for profitable settlement on any large scale.
With the United States as an example of what will presumably eventuate in Australia, let us attempt to define the limits of close settlement more accurately. We may omit all areas receiving less than 20 inches of rain per annum in this broad investigation. The question of temperature is also of importance, and admits of several methods of treatment. One may use a definite mean annual isotherm as a criterion. Referring to U.S.A. it is seen that the line 68°F. passes just north of New Orleans and Florida. It will be admitted that these districts are not well suited for continuous out-of-door white labour, or at any rate British labour; and the white Australia policy at present does not favour ‘dago’ immigration from Southern Europe. In Australia this isotherm of 68° passes south of the Tropic of Capricorn so that one may safely take the latter as the northern limit of the most favourable areas for closer settlement in Australia.
Now let us tabulate these areas available for settlement by the British farmer. They are shown by the diagonally-ruled areas on the map (Fig. 59). (It is useful to remember that the British Isles have an area of 120,000 square miles.)
TABLE A.
Areas suitable for close settlement.
(Temperate lands with annual rainfall over 20".)
New South Wales 113,000 sq. miles.
Queensland 80,000 "
Victoria 52,000 "
West Australia 33,000 "
Tasmania 26,000 "
South Australia 15,000 "
Total 319,000 sq. miles.
No exception is made for rugged or heavily timbered country in this list. Such will naturally be later portions of the State to be settled.
Let us now compare this area with the similar tract in U.S.A., and endeavour to draw a parallel between the growth of the latter and that foreshadowed in Australia.
In 1800 the United States had a population of 5,000,000 – which is much the same as that occupying Australia now – and during the past century (1800–1900) it has increased to 76,000,000. The distribution of the latter is controlled to a very great extent by the rainfall, as will be seen from the sketch-map where the ‘6 to the square mile’ population line almost coincides with the 20-inch isohyet and the 18 isopleth runs parallel and less than 100 miles to the east.
This 20-inch isohyet practically divides U.S.A. into equal areas of some 1,500,000 square miles each. In the western half (i.e. the twelve States including and west of Dakota, Nebraska, Colorado, and New Mexico) are distributed only seven per cent. of the whole population while 70,000,000 have settled in the well-watered eastern half.
In Australia, as we have seen, there are about 400,000 square miles of well-watered temperate country, or about one-quarter of that in U.S.A. So that given the same rate of increase as in U.S.A. – which, however, is not likely to occur – Australia should have a population of some 19,000,000 white people at the end of the century.
Australia in its Physiographic and Economic Aspects,
Oxford Geographies, Clarendon Press
, Oxford, 1911
Colin Thiele
1975
For the lowan is unquestionably unique. No other mound-building bird in the world inhabits such a difficult environment for natural incubation – heat, summer drought, low humidity, wide fluctuations of temperature. No other bird has to work so hard and so long to adjust his mound to such conditions.
And the lowan has a distinctiveness and a beauty of his own. No one lucky enough to see him working at close quarters – and it is the male who does most of the work – could ever forget him. There is too much about him that is unforgettable: his design, his stance, his dignity, his incredible industry, his wisdom. He is a fine shapely bird, sixty centimetres long and forty-five high, and perhaps two kilograms in weight. Although mainly grey in body colour, he is strikingly patterned on wings and back with serried patches of black, brown, and white – a combination that gives him the purity of black-and-white art rather than the flamboyance of colour. In clear sunlight he is magnificent, in sunlit scrub suddenly invisible. For the dappled patterns of light and shadow under his native mallee trees disperse him, catch him up mysteriously, merge and melt about him with a kind of woodland sleight-of-hand. And he completes the camouflage by his stateliness, his measured movement, his habit of pausing motionless as if listening to some faint far message before moving on. He walks rather than flies, although he may take to the air for a hundred metres or so in times of sudden danger or alarm.