Now, as the governor, for the time being, was
the first and most important person in the
colony, it was from that functionary that King
Bungaree took his cue. And, after having
seen the governor several times, and talked to
him, Bungaree would adopt his excellency's
manner of speech and bearing to the full extent
of his wonderful power. When I first knew
Bungaree, General Darling was Governor of
New South Wales. Bungaree then walked the
streets with his arms folded across his breast,
his body erect, his pace slow and measured, with
something of a military swagger in it, and the
only salute he vouchsafed was a dignified, but
very slight, inclination of his head. Even when
his Majesty was so intoxicated that he could
not walk straight, it was impossible not to
recognise the faithfulness of the copy to the
original. His mode of speech, too, was curt and
somewhat abrupt. Even the words, "Len' it
glass o' grog," came forth, rather in the tone of
a command than of a request. But when
General Darling left, and General Bourke became
his successor, how very different was the
demeanour and the deportment of King Bungaree!
He walked briskly up George-street, with his
left hand on his hip and his right arm moving
to and fro, took off his cocked-hat periodically
in recognition of salutes (most of them
imaginary), and, when he neared the guard-house
at the bottom of Church-hill, he would raise
his right hand in the air and shake it, as a
signal to the sentry not to turn out the guard
to present arms to him.

The reader will have gleaned that King
Bungaree was not temperate in his habits.
Candour compels me to say that he was
by no means particular as to the nature of
his beverage. The only liquid to which he had,
seemingly, any aversion, was pure water. Rum,
gin, brandy, wine, beer, Chili vinegar, mushroom
catsup, or "bull,"* he would take in any
quantity, from any person who could be
prevailed upon to "lend" it to him; and, unfortunately,
in order to get rid of his Majesty, the
supply, in many instances, immediately
followed the demand, and the king was too
often to be seen, stretched, at full length, on a
dust-heap near the wharfs, fast asleep, and
covered by myriads of flies, his cocked-hat doing
the duty of a pillow: except when some little
boy tore out the crown, and then pulled
it over the king's ankles: putting him, in fact,
in felt stocks. So strong was this monarch's
passion for drink, that I am perfectly satisfied
that he would, at any moment, have abdicated
his sovereignty for an old sugar mat, wherewith
to make "bull," although he would never have
renounced his right to the title of "King of the
Blacks," or that brass plate, which he regarded
as his "patent."

*Coarse brown sugar, dissolved in water. It
intoxicates the aborigines as effectually as alcohol.

With the cares of state Bungaree never
troubled himself. His sovereignty, to all
intents and purposes, was a matter of sound
and of mere form. His subjects never
treated him with respect or obedience. His
tyranny, in the strictly classical acceptation
of the term, was confined simply to his Queens,
five in number. These ladies were all much
younger than the king, and were named
respectively "Onion," "Boatman," "Broomstick,"
"Askabout," and "Pincher." These names, of
course, were not given to them in their baptism
(whatever may have been the aboriginal
character of that rite), but were dictated, most
probably, by the caprice of some of King
Bungaree's European advisers, on the various
occasions of his consulting them on the point, and
"borrowing" something of which he fancied
he stood in need. Whether the Queens
were much attached to the monarch, or the
monarch to them, I cannot venture to say, nor
can I form an opinion whether they bore the
king company in his inebriation, out of courtesy,
or from a natural desire to drink; but this I can
state, with the positiveness of a biographer who
derives his sources of information from personal
knowledge, that I never saw their majesties (the
Queens) sober when his majesty King Bungaree
was drunk. The dress of these royal ladies
was exceedingly grotesque. With the exception
of a faded satin slip, an old bedgown, or a flannel
petticoat, whatever beauty King Bungaree's
Queens possessed, was, in every sense of the
word, in its unadornment "adorned the most."
The only "foreign aid of ornament" that even
Onion, the most fastidious of them as regarded
personal appearance, ever resorted to, was a short
clay pipe, intertwined with her hair: which, in
point of colour and fineness, bore a strong
resemblance to the tail or mane of an unbroken,
unhandled, bay colt.

I have mentioned that I sometimes, when a
boy, accepted the invitations of King Bungaree
to go out with him in his boat to "kedge fiss."
His was a very old boat, a "loan" from
Governor Macquarie, who cultivated Bungaree's
acquaintance, if not Bungaree himself; and,
upon all these occasions the Queens used to pull
the rickety craft, while the king sat in the
stern-sheets, and steered. The Queens, by
turns, not only pulled the oars (only two)
of the boat; but, when the anchor—a
large piece of stone tied to an old rope—
was let go they baited the hooks, threw over
the lines, and caught the bream and yellowtails,
with which the harbour abounded in those
days. Bungaree, meanwhile, sat still, smoked
his pipe, and occasionally gave an approving
nod or a kind word to the wife who hooked the
fish fastest. When out in his boat—during Sir
Richard Bourke's administration—King Bungaree
bore a stronger resemblance to Charles the
Second than to any other monarch of whom I
have read in history. He was cheerful, merry,
facetious, gallant (except as to pulling and
fishing), and amorous, without anything like
coarseness in his outbreaks of affection. Fish
constituted King Bungaree's coin. The harbour
of Port Jackson was his treasure-chest. When
a sufficient quantity had been caught to