Corroboree

Last night nearly all the township turned
out to see a corroboree held by the blacks.
The spectators sat on almost precipitous rocks
that rose above the flat which the natives had
chosen. The" actors, naked from the waist,
were painted with broad white bands over
face, neck, arms, and body. Some of them
had great feather erections on their heads and
wore a kind of sporran made of wool. The
leader carried in each hand a Maltese cross of
wood, each point having a bunch of white
feathers attached, and others had the same
shaped frame with scarlet threads wound
across and across. An old man, clothed in a
long coat that looked something like a high
priest's robe, stood in front beating two
boomerangs and chanting a low monotonous
song, to whose time the naked feet of the
warriors stamped and beat in unison. A
number of women squatted round the fire and
kept it supplied with brushwood, and one of
them assisted the "high priest" by joining in
the chant and beating her hands. The weird
character of the scene was one to haunt one's
dreams. The moon shining through the
background of trees, the blazing fire, with its
circle of women and the hideous forms of
black and white that simulated the stealthy
march, the rush on the foe, the ferocious
massacre, the dance of triumph, then the
packing up the plunder, the return march
through the arid desert, and the slaking of
their burning thirst when the longed-for pool
was reached.