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( 061 ) December 10th, 1838.
Started my first letter from South Australia; Contents: Description of the sea voyage.
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Native burial ceremony
( 063 ) February 20th, 1839.
On the last Thursday evening, the native
Wariato, one of the two wives of her husband
Munaitya, died. She was one of the tallest and strongest women of all her compatriots in the prime of her life, and was about 25 to 30 years old. The cause of her illness and death was such as would not be expected among the natives, namely, a miscarriage. She spent most of the last day of her life without rational consciousness; For example, she called as loudly as she could to her mother, who was standing close to her. When her end was approaching after sunset and there was a general howl, I rushed over and found her not quite dead, but struggling with death and wheezing loudly. I fetched some wine, but the men would not allow me to give it to her, pretending that her teeth were already closed, as was the case. Since the breath lingered in her for quite a long time, perhaps because the men kept her in an upright position, I left before she passed away.
On Friday morning my first business was to look around for the dead
Wariato, and was astonished to see her so wrapped up in an old piece of stuff that she was no longer half her natural length; I inquired later
( 064 ) wherefore she was so short, and heard that her arms were folded against her breast, and her legs were folded against her body. Many natives sat around the deceased, some with their heads resting on her body, and expressed their sympathy with loud howls and a stream of tears. Afterwards she was placed on a stretcher tied together with poles covered with dry grass and covered with green branches and carried by 8 to 10 men. At first they walked around the spot where she had died, now and then standing still for a moment and one of them put his mouth close to her head and lisped as if he wanted to say something in her ear. Sometimes, remaining in the same spot, they turned around several times, stopped again and one whispered; turned again in the opposite direction and repeated the same thing. All this led me to suspect that people were making attempts to find out something about the deceased; So I asked what those movements and especially the whispers mean. To this I received an answer, of which I understood at least enough that the natives believed that one of the Eastmen had killed the woman. These hikes continued on Saturday, in all the places where their camp had previously been.