a horseshoe-shaped line. They are quite naked, and each holds on her knees an opossum rug, neatly folded up and stretched tightly, skin outwards. The leader appears in the ordinary costume of a native. He wears his opossum rug, and is not painted or otherwise decorated. He carries a corrobboree-stick in each hand. His station is between the group of women and the fire. When all things are prepared, he advances carelessly towards the women, making a droning sound as he walks, and suddenly strikes his two sticks together, which is the signal for the performers to come forward. These arrange themselves in a straight line, and then there is a pause. The leader eyes the line attentively, and, if all of them are present, he commences to beat his sticks together; the performers strike their sticks in time with the leader, and the grand dance commences. The time kept by the performers and the women who beat the opossum skins—which are the only drums they possess—and the exactness with which all the movements are conducted, are astonishing. The dancers, acting strictly in concert, put themselves into all kinds of postures, moving sideways, advancing slightly, retreating, extending their limbs, and anon standing straight in line. The leader, all this time, is not idle. He beats his sticks vigorously, and keeps up the nasal drone, raising his voice occasionally as he takes a few steps to and fro, now turning his face towards the dancers and now towards the women. As he faces the women, they raise their voices in song. After posturing for some time, and getting heated with their exertions, the chief performers become violent; they hasten their movements in obedience to the more rapid beating of the leader's sticks; they shake themselves, and jump to an incredible height, and at last, each taking a deep inspiration and inflating his lungs, utters a loud, shrill noise. The sound, so accurate is the time, appears to come from one mouth. This is the signal for retreat. Without any hint from the leader, but in this instance in obedience to their own instinct, probably feeling that they have done enough for the time, they precipitately flee to the shelter of their bushes, where they rest for a short period. When they re-appear, they arrange themselves in a curved line, and go through the same strange antics as before, with such variations as may have been agreed upon. The women remain seated in their places, beating time with their hands on their rugs, and singing occasionally as the leader turns towards them. The singing of the women adds much to the delight of the natives, and it certainly tends to soften what may be regarded as rather a harsh entertainment. The women at times raise their voices to the loudest pitch, and again sink them so low as scarcely to be heard.
The men and women who are not engaged in the ceremony form groups at some distance away, and watch the proceedings with the greatest interest. The women sit with their rugs on their knees, and the men stand or sit, their spears being stuck in the ground or lying by their sides. The spectators are invariably greatly delighted with the entertainment. The women keep beating their rugs in time to the music, and the men talk in low voices, criticising the performance, and generally praising the dancers. One tall black has imposed upon him the duty of keeping the spectators in their proper places. If any should encroach on the space appropriated to the corrobboree, this black would
