Baffin 2007

6th.—Have been beset all day by natives. They pull the blossoms of the red gum tree (now in flower), steep them in water, and drink the water, which acquires a taste like sugar and water by this process. Some came here, bringing a young kangaroo dog of a fine breed. I had often (in my own mind) contemplated poisoning him. To my surprise, the natives called my attention suddenly to the dog, when I saw that some one had been beforehand with me. I told them all manner of stories about our dogs going mad, and that their bite was then fatal. They were greatly alarmed. I put my hand cautiously over his mouth, put him into the boat, and carried him to the other side of the river, where he soon died. They thought a snake had bit him. In the evening, there was a crying of natives at a distance. I ran with Weeip and some others to see. A number of strangers had arrived; the child of one had died, and they must have some spearing match about it. I begged them not to throw spears, but it appeared to be a very friendly or ceremonious transaction—some spears having been thrown harmlessly. After a little, it was mentioned to the owner of the dog that it had died—that his dog was dead by the bite of a snake. He had not been at my place before during the day, and had not heard of it till then. Instantly, there was a change of scene—he and his brother seized their spears, and seemed about to commence in good earnest, when others threw their arms round them and held them with difficulty. Angry feeling seemed to spread among them: the vengeance of these two seemed directed against a woman, whose husband was held also. When I left them, one of the natives was walking round and round this woman, while two had placed themselves on either side of her, and walked round in a circle, so as to keep one still between his spear and her. It was a strange sight. I asked Weeip what it meant. He said the owner was a little angry, and he would only spear her a little on the lower part of the leg. I have heard their voices very loud ever since. They will have troubled rest. All parties seemed to look upon me as a friend—though I confess I felt a little afraid at one time when they began to pronounce my name with great vehemence; it was in asserting that I had seen the dog die of snake bite. I held Mauli for a while, when he first snatched his spear, till another came to the rescue. One part of the scene was singular—the mother of the child that had died clung to the knees of one old man and uttered a long weeping recitative, while he stood apparently unmoved; at other times she threw herself on the bosom of another and wept out the same sort of droning song, which, from some detached words I caught, reminds me of the Irish keen, as a sort of address to the departed. It is ringing in my ears even now, while I write, at the distance of half a mile from them. - Diary of ten years eventful life of an early settler in Western Australia by George Fletcher Moore