The Aborigines of Victoria and Riverina/Chapter 10
CHAPTER X[1]
THE ABORIGINAL MODES OF FISHING BY HOOK AND LINE, AND BY DIVING AFTER THE FISH AND SPEARING THEM UNDER WATER; BAIT USED FOR THE HOOK, AND HOW PROCURED.
One morning just before dawn, in the month of March, after having made all the necessary arrangements the night previous for a day's sport with the aborigines of the Lower Murrry River, we were roused from our peaceful slumbers and pleasant dreams by old King Pinbocoroo rapping at our window, and with no gentle voice shouting pykie, pykie (get up, get up). Sorely loth, we tumbled out of the sheets, shook ourselves into our raiment, and joined the hoary-headed king, whom we found awaiting our advent with ill-concealed impatience. As our preparations had all been made over night, we had nothing to do but accompany the patriarchal Pinbocoroo to his camp, from whence the fishing party was to start. When we reached the camp it was all astir. Men and women were bustling from the camp to the canoes on the river, backwards and forwards, carrying the necessary implements, lines, spears, &c., which would be required during the day's expedition. Chubby little balls of ebon-hued humanity rolled about, too, in every one's way, thereby materially assisting to swell the almost unbearable din made by those preparing the canoes for a start, and mongrel, mangey, flat-sided curs belonging to the camp, with yelp and howl, did not tend to lessen the atrocious noise. However, ere the broad red disc of the sun had become plainly perceptible above the horizon, the canoes were packed, and a start effected, we, with our good King Pinbocoroo, leading the van.
Altogether there were eight canoes employed in the excursion, each at least having three occupants, and as the flimsy barks (barks in two senses) left the bank and glided gracefully away on the broad surface of the mighty river, whose peaceful waters never yet disturbed by steamboat paddle, glittered and sparkled in the early sunlight, until the flotilla presented a scene so quaintly striking as to be well worthy of an artist's pencil. Like unto muscular athletes those propelling the canoes stood up, nude from the waist, plying their tough and lengthy maroongies (canoe sticks) with a grace and elegance quite equal to that displayed by gymnasts whilst balancing their poles during an airy pas seul. The showers of spray which flashed from the ends of the paddles as they were alternately raised and depressed, formed tiny rainbows, lovely as they were evanescent.
Besides those in the canoes there were about a dozen lyoors, with quite as many youngsters, who trudged along the bank of the river towards the selected fishing grounds, keeping pace with the canoes most admirably, each lyoor as a matter of course carrying her mocre mocre (bag), containing all sorts of notions, comprising the most incongruous assemblage of articles, ranging from a fishook up to the carefully preserved packet of kidney fat, which latter, according to their undoubted belief, is a talisman potent enough to keep nyambacootchala (devil) and all his attendant imps at more than arm's length. Besides that, which is considerable, a small portion rubbed over the bait previous to the hook being thrown into the water is a certain attraction to the scaley denizens of the river. After paddling against the stream for about four miles the canoes were brought up to the bank, when their occupants, ourselves included, joined the lyoors and wirtiwoos (children) on shore. As a matter of course the universal aboriginal habit, whenever they happen to stop, if only for a few minutes even, was followed here, so a fire was lighted, round which the masculine portion of our excursionists gathered themselves, and ere long the air became redolent with the fumes of the fragrant narcotic so dearly loved by all nations, even from the frigid to the torrid zone. There in idle ease they squatted on their haunches, or lolled in lazy attitudes, quizzing each other, or recounting marvels performed on other fishing expeditions, either by themselves or ancestors of generations long since passed away.
The lyoors and wirtiwoos were meanwhile all in the river, some of them on shallow shelving banks, digging away with their yamsticks most energetically, with the view to the exhumation of the great Murray lobster, whose delicate flesh was destined to tempt the voracious codfish, the brilliant golden perch and his silver-scaled congener, together with the ugly, but at the same time lusciously oleaginous catfish. Others, again, displayed their activity by diving into deeper water in search of mussels, which were also intended (after having been partially roasted to facilitate the opening of their shells) to form baits for the hooks.
Half an hour devoted to this fun, accompanied by much laughter, and not infrequently by screams of genuine pain caused by some poor lyoor, more clumsy than usual, allowing the nippers of a giant lobster to pinch her finger to the bone, resulted in the collection of sufficient bait for the day's operations.
When the bait had been thus procured the canoes were moved half a mile further up the river to a deep pool, where the water lay comparatively still. The canoes were made fast to the bank there, about ten feet apart, and then the business of the day began in right down earnest.
The lines, each twenty or thirty yards long, to which the baited hooks were attached were carefully coiled up in the hands of the fishermen and dexterously thrown towards the middle of the river, one small coil only being left in each canoe, these coils being left as tell-tales, for the moment the bait was taken, these coils running out immediately denoted the fact, so that a strong, quick pull was only necessary to hook the scaley victim; then a smart haul, hand over hand, soon placed the glistening fish safely in the canoe.
This mode of procedure was carried on for some hours, with more or less success, until, indeed, the sun had gained so high an altitude that the heat became more powerful than pleasing; therefore the fish sought deeper pools, caring little for the baits which up to that time they had so greedily swallowed. Even the most delicate piece of lobster, though plentifully smeared with the irrisistible kidney fat, failed to tempt them from their cool retreats; therefore the fishermen coiled away their lines, and landed 'mid their scaley prey, huge cutlets from which were soon frizzling and seething on the glowing coals, emitting such appetising odours as are seldom experienced, apart from the camp fire, in the free wilds of the mighty bush, where air and exercise combine to give food such zest as epicures whose lives are laid in cities vainly sigh for. We, in common with our aboriginal brethren, having partaken sumptuously of the luscious cutlets, supplemented by a good-sized bunch of "pigfaces"[2] by way of bread, charged our pipe, and then, under the influence of the soothing weed, we felt as though children might play with us and not elicit a single growl by reason of their juvenile temerity.
When our pipes had demonstrated that even they could come to an end, there was a stir amongst the male portion of the party. Everything in the shape of clothes was doffed by them, and when reduced to perfect nudity they stood up, spear in hand, waiting for old Pinbocoroo to give the word of command; they represented a group in bronze far surpassing in their just proportions the puny efforts of a mundane modeller. Another phase of our sport was about to commence.
The sluggish fish had sought the cool depths of the river, and were not to be tempted therefrom by any kind of bait, however delectable or cunningly devised. The aboriginal fishermen were therefore determined to seek them in their cool retreats. To that end all those in Adam's first attire stole quietly into the river, each with his short, keen fish-spear grasped firmly in the hand. The spot, chosen for their stealthy immersion was near the point, where their knowledge told them that the scaley denizens of the river were enjoying their midday siesta; and there they stood in the river, shoulder deep, still as though they had been mere images instead of men, making Pinbocoroo's reiteration of cuppa cuppa (hush, hush), superfluous quite. Not a single muscular tremor was to be seen in any one of the expertant savage divers until the word was given by the king, when they simultaneously sank from sight, leaving scarcely a ripple behind to tell the spot from whence they had disappeared. After the lapse of what seemed to us an endless time, though by the clock it could not have been very great, the divers began to reappear, by ones, by twos, and threes, until the whole number were once more on the surface, some struggling with immense fish transfixed upon their spears, requiring considerable assistance to land them safely; others, again, with lesser prey wriggling about on their spears like great entimological specimens on immense pins, required no aid in the landing of their fish. Still, they made as much noise and splutter on the occasion as the landing of a sixty-pounder would warrant; but so it is with these aborigines, even as it is with the greater portion of human kind—plenty of cry and little wool.
This under-water spearing continued with varying success until the sun had declined considerably, when it was abandoned, and the canoes shifted to fresh feasting grounds, then the hooks and lines again became the order of the day. By this time the fish had become as lively as it is their nature to be, consequently they took the delicate pieces of lobster, or coarser mussel, with which the hooks were baited quite as readily as they had done in the morning; therefore it was one continuous floundering and spluttering of great fish as the natives kept pulling them into their conoes one after another, nearly as fast, in fact, as the hooks could be rebaited and thrown out; until tired with the long day's successful fun, it was mooted that a start should be made campwards. As the sun was then rapidly approaching the western horizon, the proposal was unanimously agreed to. Therefore, ere long the frail but graceful canoes were once more floating calmly on the bosom of the great river. This time, however, they were not propelled as when outward bound, but were allowed instead to drift along with the current. An occasional touch of the charroongie as they chanced to near either shore too much kept them well in mid stream. All on board the canoes had their lines towing astern, baited ready to haul in such fish as had temerity enough to snatch at the tempting morsels as they twirled along in the wakes of the canoes.
All at once our line was hauled tight by a sudden jirk, which nearly pulled us overboard amongst the fishes. We shouted frantically to Pinbocoroo to back water, as we had got fast to a log; Pinbocoroo, however, only hurriedly replied to our urgent request, "Kurka, tumoo kurka, waty kulk, koorongiadoo mungie tine" (pull, again pull; it's no log, but a big fish biting). Following his advice, we did pull in right down earnest, when, to our unqualified delight, a monster whale-like codfish was soon floundering alongside of the canoe. The old king, watching his opportunity, quickly drove his spear through its vertibræ, close to the head, and the great brute was then safely hauled into our tiny craft.
The capture of this immense fish seemed to the natives a fitting finale to our successful day's sport, so the lines were all drawn up at once, and the long, slender canoe poles came gracefully into play, which sent the flotilla along in splendid style, rivalling in beauty and celerity a flock of moulting swans when being chased; and just as old Sol sank to rest, mid a blaze of gorgeous colours, we landed at the port from whence we started in the morning.
The result of our day's sport was ninety-three fish, beside those demolished at our midday meal, and a few lobsters, whose aldermanic proportions were the means of their being reserved for the delectation of animals, possessing a higher organisation than the giant codfish of the Murray River.