Figure 3. Explorers’ routes. CartoGIS, Australian National University.

      Cook’s experiences led him to see the natives’ setting “no value” on anything, nor parting with anything.

      In subsequent exploration, by others, interest in the natives was subordinate in the range of purposes with which the outsiders came; they were a lower priority than we might expect from our present perspectives. They were to be placated, kept on good terms, and made useful where possible. They might usefully supply information about the country, such as availability of water and information concerning terrain. Once they set about colonizing the continent, outsiders largely had exploration of the country on their minds and explicit instructions to find arable and usable country (Wolfe 1999). Journals of continental explorers (such as Baudin, Péron, Grey, Sturt, Edward John Eyre, John Lort Stokes, and many others) contain sections such as “Visited by the natives,” “Our intercourse with them,” “Description of their weapons and other implements.” Though the basic plot of their writings is one of exploration, their stories of encounters with natives are a hazardous and emotionally fraught subplot—far removed from Cook’s calm echoes of the Enlightenment and his Rousseauian view of a people without wants.

       Watching Emotions for Trouble

      Emotion is often understood as intersubjectively and interactively constructed (Wilce 2009:481) and emotions as forms of expressive response to our shared life. In many outbursts in unexpected encounter on the part of indigenous people, however, we mainly see surges of overpowered surprise and alarm, to some extent couched in culturally conventional form (dancing in place, singly or together), but often also in evidently unintentional, raw physical reactions (trembling, shaking).

      Charles Napier Sturt (1795–1869), starting from Sydney and later on from Adelaide, traced several of the westward-flowing rivers, hoping to find an “inland sea.” He determined that these rivers all merged into the Murray River. His third expedition in 1844 from Adelaide northward never reached the center of the continent as he had intended; he returned to Adelaide in poor health with the expedition under another’s command. On that final expedition into uncharted territory, he encountered indigenous people who had seemingly had no prior contact with outsiders. He and his men “saw a party of natives assembled on a sand hill, to the number of fourteen. As we advanced towards them they retreated, but at length made a stand as if to await our approach. They were armed with spears, and on Mr. Browne dismounting to walk towards them, formed themselves into a circle, in the centre of which were two old men, round whom they danced” (Sturt 1849: vol. 1, pp. 340–41). Regarding his party’s approach to an old man who had become aware of the Europeans advancing on him (they were on horseback), Sturt reports: “In order to allay his fears Mr. Browne dismounted and walked up to him, whilst I kept back. On this the poor fellow began to dance, and to call out most vehemently, but finding that all he could was to no purpose, he sat down and began to cry” (ibid., 1:339). Sturt goes on to report of this old man, however, that within a short time: “We managed to pacify him, so much that he mustered courage to follow us, with his two companions to our halting place” (ibid.).

      On coming upon some natives at a river, Sturt observed that several of them “trembled greatly” (ibid., 1:110); and of another man whom the outsiders interrupted in collecting wood, that he expressed “horror and amazement—down went his branches—out went his hands—and trembling head to foot, he began to shout as loud as he could bawl” (ibid., 2:63).

      It was once believed and fervently hoped that a great river entered the Indian Ocean on the northwest of Australia, and that the country it drained might be suitable for colonization. In 1837 and 1839 George Grey (1812–98) led hardship-plagued expeditions, the first an ill-prepared exploration of northwest Australia from Cape Town—only one man of his party had seen northern Australia before. Wrecked, almost drowned, and completely lost, Grey was wounded in a skirmish with Aborigines. The party traced the course of the Glenelg River, in the Kimberley region of Western Australia, before retreating to Mauritius to recover. Two years later, Grey returned and was again wrecked with his party in Western Australia. Though they were the first Europeans to see the Gascoyne River, they had survived the subsequent near-waterless journey on foot to the present location of Perth only with the help of Kaiber, a Whadjuk Nyungar man mentioned in Chapter 1 as Grey’s guide. Grey (1841: vol. 1, pp. 362–63) records that first-contacted natives he approached began singing in an effort to “sing them away.”

      Péron (2006:177) describes a young man who sighted the Baudin party of exploration (in Tasmania) from a promontory and was apparently so excited by this unexpected appearance and so encouraged by “our signs of friendship” (what those may have been, is not recorded), that he “jumped rather than climbed down the rock and was with us in the blink of an eye…. There was nothing stern or wild in his features; his glance was keen and lively, and his air expressed both goodwill and surprise. M. Freycinet embraced him, and so I did the same; but from the indifference with which he received this demonstration of our interest, it was easy to see it held no significance for him.” These