four or five months old, and seemed to have
partaken of its mother's illness. I think it could not have lived.]

I have said that these women were namesakes. Bennillong's wife was called
Ba-rang-a-roo Daring-ha; Cole-be's, Daring-ha Ba-rang-a-roo. A
peculiarity in their language occurs to me in this place. The males of
the same name call each other Da-me-li, the women call each other
Da-me-li-ghen.

I have mentioned their taking particular names on certain occasions. The
mutual friend who attends them to the field is styled Ca-bah-my; the
persons who at their funerals are painted red and white, are named Moo-by;
the namesake of a deceased person, if a male, is styled Bo-rahng; if a
woman, Bo-rahn-gal-le-on. When Nor-roo-ing came into the town to acquaint
us with the death of Yel-lo-way, she was perfectly a dismal sorrowing
figure. She had covered herself entirely with ashes, was named while she
continued so Go-lahng, and refused all kinds of sustenance.

The annexed Plate represents the burning of the corpse of a native who
was killed by a limb of a tree falling on him. He was brought to the spot
with all the preceding ceremonies. His head was laid to the northward,
and in his hands were deposited his spear and his throwing-stick. His
ashes were afterwards raked together, and a tumulus erected over them,
similar to that which Bennillong had raised over his wife.

APPENDIX XII--LANGUAGE

In giving an account of an unwritten language many difficulties occur.
For things cognizable by the external senses, names may be easily
procured; but not so for those which depend on action, or address
themselves only to the mind: for instance, a spear was an object both
visible and tangible, and a name for it was easily obtained; but the use
of it went through a number of variations and inflexions, which it was
extremely difficult to ascertain; indeed I never could, with any degree
of certainty fix the infinitive mood of any one of their verbs. The
following sketch is therefore very limited, though, as far as it does
proceed, the reader may be assured of its accuracy.

Their language is extremely grateful to the ear, being in many instances
expressive and sonorous. It certainly has no analogy with any other known
language (at least so far as my knowledge of any other language extends),
one or two instances excepted, which will be noticed in the specimen. The
dialect spoken by the natives at Sydney not only differs entirely