Confessions of a Beachcomber - Edmund James Banfield (suggested reading txt) 📗
- Author: Edmund James Banfield
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MYALL'S BAKING
When blacks are introduced to the ways of white men, singular, often grotesque episodes occur. A big, shy, clumsy fellow endeavouring to put on a shirt as a pair of "combinations" does cut an absurd figure, and the first efforts of many meddling and unskilled cooks to make a "damper" are often pathetic failures. Not long since a beche-de-mer fisherman engaged a crew from the tablelands at the back of Princess Charlotte Bay. Never having been on board a schooner before, and being absolutely innocent of the ways of the whites, they found "damper" unpalatable, and flour was given them that they might prepare it after their own methods. Some nuts ("koie-ie," CRYPTOCARIA PALMERSTONI, for example) blacks toast until the shell (impregnated with resin) starts into a blaze and the kernel falls out. The kernels are then chewed and ejected until sufficient dough is available for a cake, which is flattened out between green leaves and toasted. The dough "rises" as though leavened with yeast, but this lightness is considered a fault, for the dough is taken out, squeezed between hands moistened with spittle until it becomes sodden. Then it is bound again tightly in green leaves in long rolls, and buried in the hot ashes till cooked. Such cakes are said to be very nice. They must be nutritious for the blacks among whom Koi-ie is one of the principal foods are fat and agile fellows. These Princess Charlotte Bay boys cooked their flour in a somewhat similar way. The result was a sodden, tough, dirty damper, the sight of which roused the not usually tender susceptibilities of the owner of the boat. Taking pity on the untutored boys, he had a proper damper made with soda and acid and a due proportion of salt. It turned out a beauty, so spongy and light that it almost lifted the lid off the camp oven, in which it was baked. The boys accepted it, but not without manifestations of doubt and suspicion. They presently returned in a solid and unanimous deputation loudly proclaiming that the boss was a humbug, and had cheated them, the bread being full of holes containing no "ki-ki" whatever, while they made "ki-ki" as dense as the deck, which they tapped with their feet significantly and about which there was no palpably hollow fraud. At first the boss failed to understand, for the blacks had little even of pidgin English. When he did realise the true state of the case he wasted no breath in explanations. The blacks catered for themselves in the future, and got fat and saucy on the diet of plain flour and water, so cooked that sometimes it was like half-burnt deal, and as often a sticky, ropy mess.
EVERYTHING FOR A NAME
To the blacks of North Queensland there is a great deal in a name. When a piccaninny is born, the first request is--"You put 'em (or make 'em) name belonga that fella!" When a strange boy, a myall, "comes in" he wants a name, and until he gets it he is as forlorn as an ownerless dog. Anything does, from "Adam" to "Yellow-belly" or "Belle Vue." He seems as proud of the new possession as a white boy of his first pair of trousers, and soon forgets his original name. "What name belonga you, your country?" I asked an alert boy. "I bin lose 'em; I no find 'em. Boss, he catch 'em alonga paper!"
THE KNIGHTLY GROWTH
Wallace, in his MALAY ARCHIPELAGO, gives an amusing account of a native who was superbly vain of an isolated tuft of hair on the one side of his chin, the only semblance of beard he possessed. A black boy on one of the inland stations left with a mob of travelling cattle for the south. When he returned after many days, two hairs had sprouted from a mole on his cheek, and he was for ever fondling them with pride and pleasure.
"Hello! Jacky!" exclaimed the manager of the station, noticing him on his return for the first time. "You catch gem plenty whisker now," and feinted to pluck out the twin hairs.
Jacky started back in dismay. "You no broke 'em! You no broke 'em!"
Another boy showed that the cruel edge of vanity which prompts others to dye their hair is felt by the race. White hairs began to mingle with the black of his moustache, and one by one he plucked them out. The moustache became thinner and thinner, until the lip was as bare as a baby's cheek, while the fraudulently youthful appearance gave obvious satisfaction.
HONOUR AND GLORY
As we sat enjoying the cool moonlight, Mickie announced that Jinny desired an interview. "All right, Mickie, tell her come along." "No, bi'mby. When finish wash 'em plate." That duty disposed of, Mickie--"Now Boss." "Well, come along, Jinny. What you want?" "No, Boss; I no want talk alonga you, Mickie humbug you. What for you humbug Boss, Mickie?" Jinny was bashful, for the subject was momentous, touched her pride, and had been depressing her gaiety for many weeks. Presently she came and with emphatic deliberation said--"Boss--No--good--Missis--call--out-- Jinny! Jinny! When want wash 'em plate. More better you hammer 'em that fella, all asame Essie!" Jinny did not wish that the missis should be chastised, but that she should be summoned to the plate washing with the pomp and ceremony of a dinner gong, as the maid used to do in a more civilised home.
FIRE JUMP UP
Mickie and Jinny once paid a visit to town, and Jinny, making an afternoon call, was invited to have a cup of tea. She said, "Never mind, Missis. Fire, he no burn." A gas stove was available, and Jinny jumped and exclaimed as the blue flame sprang from nowhere. Wherever the lady of the house pleased to apply a match the fire came. Next morning Mickie was brought round to witness the wonder, Jinny asking--"Missis. You show 'em Mickie fire jump up all about!"
SLOP TEETH
A lady up North was asked by her black maid, whose face had been terribly battered by her infuriated husband, to send to the shop for new teeth, in payment of which she tendered half-a-crown, promising "two bob more" as wages accumulated. This is a fact, and therefore comparable with the anecdote which tells that a military bandmaster demanded the return of a set of teeth supplied at the regiment's expense to a cornet player who had been granted his discharge.
A FASCINATED BOY
Seas swamped a small cutter as she was beating across the bar of a Northern river. Exerting themselves to the utmost, the owners, with two black boys, managed to save the boat, but all the food on board was ruined, and blankets and clothing saturated. Hungry and dejected the party prepared to put away the time until the weather calmed. In the afternoon, fortune smiled. Another cutter came in sight, and with the assistance of those on shore, managed to get into safety and shelter. All hands were liberally treated to needful refreshment. "Say when!" said the cheery Boss, as he poured a revivifying dose of whisky into a pannikin held by the expectant but shivering boy. The elixir gurgled and glittered before his fascinated eyes until the pannikin held enough for two stiff nobblers, without evoking any polite verbal restraint. "My word!" said the Boss, at last, "that boy can't say when."
AWKWARD CROSS-EXAMINATION
Mickie and Jinny being privileged became familiar, and spoke all sorts of confidences in the ears of their mistress. Visitors came, an old friend and her daughters, a blonde and a brunette. The contrast in the types of the girls puzzled Mickie. He took an early opportunity to cross-examine one from whom he thought he could obtain confidential information. "What Gwen sister belonga Glad?" he asked. "Yes, Mickie" "Same mother?" queried Mickie. "Yes, of course." Then came without hesitation or reserve the dumbfounding question: "Same father?"
THE ONLY ROCK
Some may sneer when absolute originality is claimed for the following little anecdote, for almost a facsimile of it happens to be among the most time-honoured of jests. Rounding Clump Point in a light centre-board cutter, the Boss, who was steering, asked Willie, whose local knowledge was being relied on: "Any stone here, Willie?" "Yes," was the response, "one fella." The words were yet on the lips of the boy when the centre-board jumped with a clang. "Why you no tell me before?" angrily remonstrated the Boss. Willie--"No more. Only one fella. You catch 'em!"
SAW THE JOKE
Our blacks saw "friends" on the mainland beach, and lit two signal fires. Mickie said, "Me tell 'em that fella bring basket." Cross-examined, he had to admit that the two fires merely signified a general invitation to his mainland friends to come across. Then--"That fella got 'em basket, me get 'em." A friend doubted the range of the black's vision, which was truly telescopic, as we frequently verified with a pair of powerful field glasses, but not to be thought inferior in this respect, he solemnly declared that he saw Jinny's cousin on the beach strike a light for his pipe. At first the irony of the remark was not appreciated, then Jinny (after vainly peering across the sea), saw the joke and gave a wild exhilarating exhibition of amusement. She sat down and rolled about shouting and screeching, hardly able to tell Mickie the fun, and when he was let into it the pantomime was the more extravagant. The outburst continued throughout the day at intervals, Jinny apologising for her boisterousness with reiterations--"Misser Johnssing say he been see 'em cousin belonga me light 'em pipe!" Jinny still rehearses the story at frequent intervals, and with hysterical outbursts.
ZEBRA'S VANITY
To half civilised blacks a racecourse is an earthly paradise; a jockey, a sort of demi-god. A lady shut up her house one race day, leaving "Zebra" in charge. Returning, she was amazed to find one of the big rooms open, and to hear the buzz of a sewing machine. Zebra, trouserless, scarcely took the trouble to look round as he informed her--"Me make 'em trouser all a same Yarraman (horse)." His desire for tight riding breeches was not restrained, and the consequence was in the nature of a disaster.
LAURA'S TRAITS
Laura was a bad girl. Like Topsy, she acknowledged her naughtiness, but never attempted to reform. A considerable quantity of milk had disappeared from a jug, and her mistress asked--"You been drink milk, Laura?" "No, missis, me no drink 'em." But the tell-tale moustache of cream still lingered on her lips. Laura lived in a quiet home, where there were no children, and few dishes to wash. The State Orphanage was not far away, and the children thereof paraded every day on their way to the State school. Gazing at the long procession marching two by two Laura, with a far away look in her eyes, said--"Missis. Me no like wash 'em plate belonga these fellas!" Laura was wont to be sent to Sunday school, where her ways were precise and demure, and where her natural smartness gained her credit, and many good conduct tickets. Once she was overheard at her devotions--"Please, Mr God, make missis strong woman, make missis good woman!" She was sick, and her mistress insisted upon administering castor oil, but Laura made a fuss. At last her mistress said--"All right, Laura, suppose you
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