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RUE COIRIDIS
OlF
CATH
AUSTRALIAN
MUSEUM
VOLUME 34 PART 1
MAY 2001
CONTENTS
BAEHR, M. & HUDSON, P.
New species and a new genus of the subfamily Pogoninae from
South Australia (Coleoptera: Carabidae).
CLARKE, P. A.
The significance of whales to the Aboriginal people of southern South Australia.
CLARKE, P. A.
Review — Warrabarna Kaurna! Reclaiming an Australian Language
JAMES, B. H., DONNELLAN, S. C. & HUTCHINSON, M.N.
Taxonomic revision of the Australian lizard Pygopus nigriceps (Squamata: Gekkonoidea).
KEAR, B. P.
Elasmosaur (Reptilia: Plesiosauria) basicranial remains from the
Early Cretaceous of Queensiand.
McARTHUR, A.
Obituary — Patricia Marietje Thomas
MEGAW, J. V. S.
Australian Aboriginal Cultures Gallery ‘The Speaking Land’: a review article.
PLEDGE, N. S.
Obituary —- June Mavis Scrymgour
REID, A. L.
Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918 (Cephalopoda: Sepiidae): a complete description and
clarification of the status of S. dannevigi Berry, 1918 and S. rex (Iredale, 1926).
STEWART, P. J. & STRATHERN, A.
Timbu Wara figures from Pangia, Papua New Guinea.
UNMACK, P. J.
Corrected identifications and lectotype designation for Porochilus
argenteus (Zietz) (Osteichthyes: Siluriformes: Plotosidae).
WATTS, C.H. S.
A new species of Australian Canthydrus Sharp with a key to the Australian
species of Noteridae (Coleoptera).
WATTS, C. H. S. & HUMPHREYS, W. F.
A new genus and six new species of Dytiscidae (Coleoptera) from underground
waters in the Yilgarn palaeodrainage system of Western Australia.
Volume 34(1) was published on 30 May 2001.
Volume 34(2) was published on 24 December 2001.
ISSN 0376—2750
19-36
135-138
37-52
127-134
53-56
115-126
139-141
79-98
65~78
57-59
61-64
99-114
NEW SPECIES AND A NEW GENUS OF THE SUBFAMILY POGONINAE
FROM SOUTH AUSTRALIA (COLEOPTERA : CARABIDAE)
M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
Summary
A new genus and a new species, Syrdenoidius spinipes gen. nov., sp. nov., and three new species of
the genus Pogonus Dejean from salt lakes in South Australia are described: Pogonus matthewsi, P.
vicunus, and P. perovalis. The first two species are closely related to P. grossi Moore from Lake
Eyre and P. saskiae Baehr from Lake Gairdner and Island Lagoon and together they form a complex
of four very closely related species. Pogonus perovalis sp. nov. is outstanding in its body shape and
absence of wings, but may be remotley related to this complex. The new genus Syrdenoidius is
highly similar in shape and structure to the Palaearctic genus Syrdenus Chaudoir, though it differs
mainly in the asetose prosternum, the markedly spinose tibiae, the absence of wings, and a very
unusual stylomere 2. Syrdenoidius spinipes sp. nov. and Pogonus perovalis sp. nov. are outstanding
in their absence of wings and loss of flying ability, attributes that are extremely rare within
Pogoninae. Most of the new species were collected by excavation of their burrows on the lake
surface, or by pitfall trapping.
NEW SPECIES AND A NEW GENUS OF THE SUBFAMILY POGONINAE FROM
SOUTH AUSTRALIA (COLEOPTERA: CARABIDAE)
M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
BAEHR, M. & HUDSON, P. 2001. New species and a new genus of the subfamily Pogoninae
from South Australia (Coleoptera: Carabidae). Records of the South Australian Museum 34(1):
1-18.
A new genus and species, Syrdenoidius spinipes gen. nov., sp. nov., and three new species
of the genus Pogonus Dejean from salt lakes in South Australia are described: Pogonus
matthewsi, P. vicinus, and P. perovalis. The first two species are closely related to P. grossi
Moore from Lake Eyre and P. saskiae Baehr from Lake Gairdner and Island Lagoon and
together they form a complex of four very closely related species. Pogonus perovalis sp. nov.
is outstanding in its body shape and absence of wings, but may be remotely related to this
complex. The new genus Syrdenoidius is highly similar in shape and structure to the Palaearctic
genus Syrdenus Chaudoir, though it differs mainly in the asetose prosternum, the markedly
spinose tibiae, the absence of wings, and a very unusual female stylomere 2. Syrdenoidius
spinipes sp. nov. and Pogonus perovalis sp. nov. are outstanding in their absence of wings and
loss of flying ability, attributes that are extremely rare within Pogoninae. Most of the new
species were collected by excavation of their burrows on the lake surface, or by pitfall trapping.
Martin Baehr, Zoologische Staatssammlung, Miinchhausenstr. 21, D-81247 Miinchen,
Germany and Peter Hudson, Department of Environmental Biology, University of Adelaide,
South Australia 5005, Australia. Manuscript received 24 July 2000.
INTRODUCTION
Most halophile pogonine species occupy
habitats such as seashores and inland salt lakes
and most are strong fliers that readily come to
lights. Such habitats have been favoured
collecting localities in other parts of the world for
a very long time and there is a general belief that
the taxonomy of the subfamily is well known.
Nevertheless, several new species have been
recently described throughout the world
(Kryzhanovskij & Michailov 1971, Morvan 1973,
Kryzhanovskij 1990, Bousquet & Laplante 1997,
Baehr & Sciaky (in press), Hudson 2000). At
present, there are 11 pogonine genera worldwide
containing about 78 taxa. Pogonus s. str. is by far
the most speciose genus with 49 described taxa
(Lorenz 1998).
In Australia, the number of described pogonines
was surprisingly low for a very long time
(Chaudoir 1871, 1878; Sloane 1895). Moore
(1977) described new species from Lake Eyre and
since then a number of additional species have
been detected and described (Baehr 1984, 1997,
1999; Moore 1991, Hudson 2000) resulting in a
total of 12 species of Pogonus known from
Australia. It is now evident that all parts of
Australia suitable for pogonines are colonised by
at least one or another species. The salt lake belt
from interior Western Australia through the
southern half of South Australia to northwestern
Victoria (and probably westernmost New South
Wales) is the stronghold of pogonines in
Australia, with many closely related but also some
unusual species occurring there.
Four new species are described herein,
including a representative of an unusual new
genus. Although the pogonine fauna of Australia
comprises predominantly the genus Pogonus s.
str., it is one of the most speciose in the world
with high morphological diversity and includes
some very strangely shaped species.
The majority of the Australian pogonines are
depigmented, many are extremely elongate and
depressed (‘syrdeniform’), characters which are
evidence of an obligatory nocturnal and at the
same time psammophile life. Apart from this, very
little is known about habits, ecological
preferences, and life histories of most of the
Australian pogonine species, since most
collections have been made using light traps. It is
the scope of this paper, among other things, to
increase ecological information about the
Australian pogonines.
2 M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
The present paper was prepared when the senior
author (MB) worked through the unidentified
carabid material in the South Australian Museum,
Adelaide, and separated a number of pogonine
specimens that turned out to belong to
undescribed species. They had been mostly
collected by the junior author (PH) during his
ample collecting work on salt lakes throughout
South Australia. Personal contact between MB
and PH during MB’s stay at the Museum revealed
that PH had a number of additional, freshly caught
specimens that were subsequently sent to MB for
identification. Since PH has collected many taxa
using pitfall traps and by excavation of burrows,
both authors agreed to collaborate in a joint paper,
with MB mainly responsible for the taxonomic
section, and PH for the ecological part.
Authorship of the new taxa is in joint names.
Some records of known species from the SAMA
collection and those made by MB during a recent
collecting trip through northwestern Victoria and
southern South Australia are also included, in
cases where they enlarge the known range or add
any other information.
MEASUREMENTS
Measurements were taken using a stereo
microscope with an ocular micrometer. Length has
been measured from apical margin of labrum to
apex of elytra; measurements, therefore, may
slightly differ from those of other authors. Length
of pronotum was taken at the longest distance
(which is not always along midline!), and width
between the posterior lateral angles.
LOCATION OF MATERIAL
The holotypes of the new species are located in
the South Australian Museum, Adelaide (SAMA),
paratypes of all species are kept in the working
collection of the senior author (CBM) at the
Zoologische Staatssammlung Miinchen. Paratypes
of Syrdenoidius spinipes are also kept in the
Australian National Insect Collection, Canberra
(ANIC).
TAXONOMIC PRINCIPLES
Whereas one of the three new taxa of the genus
Pogonus is very specialised in shape and structure
and certainly merits full specific status, two taxa
belong to a group of depigmented, elongate,
depressed, syrdeniform species that so far include
Pogonus grossi Moore and P. saskiae Baehr from
saline inland habitats in South Australia. The four
taxa now known to exist in this group are very
similar and certainly they are closely related. They
have been collected at four different localities
throughout the salt lake belt of South Australia,
and could be either subspecies of one widespread
species, or closely related species. We have decided
to rank them as species rather than subspecies for
two reasons. Firstly there appear to be consistent,
though minor differences, between them (see
Tables 1 and 2). Secondly there are heuristic
TABLE 1. Some distinguishing characters within the Pogonus grossi-group
grossi vicinus
(L. Eyre) (L. Frome)
body size large large
pronotum wide wide
basal angle slightly excised not excised
basal angle not dentiform dentiform
lateral margin
evenly convex
rather straight
anteriorly convex
widest in front
of anterior third
rather depressed
slightly convex
barely punctate
rather shallow
lateral margin widest behind
anterior third
elytra rather depressed
intervals slightly convex
striae distinctly punctate
striae rather deeply impressed
microreticulation _—_ distinct distinct
matthewsi
(Pernatty Lag.)
large
wide
not excised
dentiform
evenly convex
widest at
anterior third
convex
strongly convex
distinctly punctate
deeply impressed
very distinct
saskiae
(Island Lag.)
small
narrow
excised
not dentiform
evenly convex
widest at
anterior third
depressed
slightly convex
distinctly punctate
rather deeply impressed
distinct
NEW POGONINES FROM SOUTH AUSTRALIA 3
TABLE 2. Summary of measurements and ratios for all species of the Pogonus grossi-group. For better recognition
of the species the measurements and ratios for all species of the P. grossi-group are compiled in the following table.
body ratio ratio width ratio ratio ratio
length width/length base/apex width length/width width
(mm) pronotum pronotum pronotum/head elytra elytra/pronotum
grossi 5.2-6.4 1.18-1.21 0.91-0.93 1.13-1.15 1.85-1.91 1.27-1.35
vicinus 5.1-6.0 1.13-1.16 0.98-1.01 1.16-1.21 1.72-1.77 1.30-1.34
matthewsi 5.6-6.2 1.15-1.17 0.96-1.02 1.12-1.16 1.86-1.90 1.26-1.28
saskiae* = 4.65-4.90(4.15) 1.07-1.11(1.21) 0.87-0.88(0.85) 1.03-1.10(1.12) 1.96-1.98(1.90) —_—‘1.29-1.40
* In Pogonus saskiae Baehr one extraordinary small specimen has some rather different proportions of pronotum
and elytra (see Baehr 1997) that are added in brackets.
reasons for doing so since definition of subspecies
is more difficult than that of species and would
require more information about gene flow or hybrid
zones. Further investigations should show which
concept is better applicable to this difficult group.
TAXONOMY
There is no need for an _ extensive
characterization of the subfamily Pogoninae (or
tribe Pogonini, according to the preferred system).
A list of synonymies including the most important
citations, and an extensive diagnosis of the
subfamily was recently given by Bousquet and
Laplante (1997) that should be used by readers
who want to receive more general information
about the group. A summary of the presently
known genera and species has been recently
provided by Lorenz (1998). More information
about the Australian Pogonus species can be
obtained from Moore (1977), and the subsequent
descriptions of additional species by Moore
(1991), Baehr (1984, 1997, 1999), and Hudson
(2000).
ADDITIONAL RECORDS OF DESCRIBED SPECIES
Pogonus grossi Moore
Moore 1977: 63; Moore et al. 1987: 146; Baehr
1997: 3; 1999: 147.
This species is only known from the type
locality Lake Eyre (Moore et al. 1987). In the
SAMA collection there is a large series of
specimens from Madigan Gulf and Prescott Gulf
(both Lake Eyre North). Thus, P. grossi seems to
have colonised a large part of the shores of this
lake.
Pogonus hypharpagioides Sloane
(Fig. 1)
Sloane 1895: 126; Moore 1977: 63; Moore et al.
1987: 146; Baehr 1997: 2, 3; 1999: 147.
In addition to its type locality, Lake Callabonna,
P. hypharpagioides has previously been recorded
from Lake Eyre (Moore et al. 1987) and Lake
Frome (Baehr 1997). Collections made by the
authors show this species is widely distributed
throughout the salt lake belt from northwestern
Victoria to the west coast of South Australia,
including some near-coastal localities (see Fig. 1).
A variety of techniques have been employed in
collecting this species; many specimens were
excavated from burrows, others were collected at
light, in pitfall traps or while running on the
surface at night.
Pogonus variabilis Moore
Moore 1991: 31; Baehr 1997: 2; 1999: 147.
In the collection of SAMA there is a series of
specimens caught by N. B. Tindale and P. Aitken
in 1963 at Normanton and on Mornington Island,
both northwestern Queensland, that apparently
escaped the attention of Moore when he described
this species in 1991. They are evidence of the
wide range of this species along the coasts of
tropical Australia. Characteristically, they have
been collected at light.
DESCRIPTIONS OF NEw SPECIES
Pogonus matthewsi sp. nov.
(Figs 2, 5, 8, 19)
Types
Holotype: male, P. Hudson. 3 Sept. 1996,
4 M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
Kilometres
FIGURE 1. Distribution of Pogonus hypharpagioides Sloane, previous records (@), new records (@).
Pernatty Lagoon (sth), SA 31.6625°S 137.2375°E
(SAMA). Paratypes: 5 females, same data (CBM,
SAMA).
Diagnosis
Moderately small, elongate, uniformly reddish
‘syrdeniform’ species, distinguished from related
species mainly by its convex elytra with distinct
microreticulation and markedly convex intervals,
and its comparatively stout legs with wide
metafemur and strongly depressed tibiae. Further
distinguishing characters are in Tables 1 and 2.
Description
Measurements: Length: 5.6-—6.2 mm; width:
1.9-2.0 mm. Ratios: Width/Mength of pronotum:
1.15-1.17; width base/apex of pronotum: 0.96—
1.02; width of pronotum/width of head: 1.12-
1.16; length/width of elytra: 1.86-1.90; width
elytra/pronotum:1.26—1.28. Elytral ratios are only
based on two specimens since all are weakly
sclerotised and most have their elytra opened and
somewhat distorted.
Colour: All known specimens freshly hatched,
hence mature colouration somewhat uncertain.
Upper and lower surfaces including mouth parts,
antennae, and legs yellow. Apex of mandibles dark.
Head (Fig. 2): Rather large and wide, fairly
convex, slightly narrower than pronotum. Eyes
rather small, depressed, laterally not much
projecting, posteriorly slightly enclosed. Labrum
short and wide, apex gently emarginate.
Mandibles rather elongate, apex fairly incurved.
Palpi of moderate size, penultimate palpomere of
labial palpus fairly slender, slightly bowed.
Submentum quadrisetose, tooth of mentum wide,
slightly cleft, bidentate. Lacinia with elongate
spines. Clypeus and frons in middle convex,
frontal furrows fairly short, sinuate, rather
shallow, posteriorly ending in an irregularly
shaped impression. Impressions with irregular
wrinkles. Antennae short, well short of reaching
base of pronotum, median antennomeres little
longer than wide, sparsely pilose from middle of
3 antennomere, more densely pilose from 5"
antennomere. Surface rather glossy, impunctate,
NEW POGONINES FROM SOUTH AUSTRALIA 5
FIGURES 2-4. Habitus. 2. Pogonus matthewsi sp. nov. 3. Pogonus vicinus sp. nov. 4. Pogonus perovalis sp. nov.
Lengths: 5.6 mm; 6.0 mm; 5.5 mm.
microreticulation rather superficial, approximately
isodiametric.
Pronotum (Fig. 2): Slightly wider than long,
moderately convex, not cordiform, widest at
anterior third slightly behind position of anterior
lateral seta. Base about as wide as apex. Apex
well produced beyond anterior angles, convex, in
middle emarginate. Anterior angles very sharply
rounded off, almost rectangular. Lateral border
evenly convex throughout, with a very short
concavity just in front of basal angles. Marginal
channel narrow, border slightly upturned. Basal
angles rectangular, dentiform, base convex,
laterally rather oblique. Both apex and middle of
base unmargined. Anterior transverse sulcus fairly
distinct, median line very shallow, attaining base
though not apex, basal transverse sulcus shallow
though distinct. Basal grooves circular, merging
into marginal channel. Anterior lateral seta
situated in front of anterior third and of widest
diameter, posterior marginal seta arising from
basal angle. Both apex and base rugosely
punctate-striolate. Disk very finely punctate or
almost impunctate, at least laterally with more or
less distinct, somewhat isodiametric
microreticulation, with very faint, irregularly
transverse strioles, glossy.
Elytra (Fig. 2): Elongate, narrow, rather
parallel, dorsally remarkably convex, widest at
middle. Humeri very obtusely angulate. Lateral
margin straight over most of its distance, little
narrowed towards humeri, contiguous at sutural
angle. Marginal channel extremely narrow, margin
not explanate. All striae complete, well impressed,
coarsely punctate. Eighth stria not bowed away
from margin. Basal margin evenly curved into
short scutellar stria medially of 1“ stria. Intervals
rather convex. Third interval with 4, rarely
6 M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
unilaterally 3 setiferous punctures, the anterior
and median ones adjacent to 3" stria, situated
about at basal third and at middle, the third and
fourth ones in posterior third attached to 2" stria.
11-12 widely spaced submarginal punctures in a
more or less uninterrupted row attached to 8"
stria. Scutellar pore and seta present, at base of 1*
stria. Intervals impunctate, with very conspicuous,
isodiametric microreticulation. Wings fully
developed.
Lower surface: Prosternum not pilose.
Metepisternum rather elongate, slightly more than
half longer than wide at apex. Terminal sternum
in male bisetose, in female quadrisetose.
Legs: Rather short and stout, metafemur
comparatively stout, tibiae strongly depressed,
with sparse and weak spination. Tibial spurs
moderately elongate. Tarsi rather short, 1*
tarsomere of metatarsus much shorter than both
following tarsomeres. Metatrochanter in both
sexes short, wide, a third of length of metafemur,
apex obtusely rounded. Tarsomeres 1-3 of male
protarsus slightly asymmetrically widened on
median side, 1“ tarsomere biseriately squamose,
2™ tarsomere with few squamae on median border
only.
Male genitalia (Fig. 5): Genital ring rather
regularly triangular, little sclerotised, because the
holotype is freshly hatched. Aedeagus small, short
and compact, laterally depressed, slightly
asymmetric, lower surface regularly though gently
curved, apex rather short, obtuse at tip, slightly
turned to right side. Internal sac with a coiled,
circular, sclerotised plate near base, and with a
distinctly denticulate, triangular fold near apex.
Right paramere narrow, slightly shorter than left,
with 3 elongate apical setae. Left paramere large,
convexly tapering to apex, with 2 elongate and 1
short apical setae, the short one situated below the
longer ones.
Female genitalia (Fig. 8): Stylomere 1 without
setae at apex. Stylomere 2 elongate, curved, with
1 or 2 small ventral ensiform setae near base, and
2 (attached) nematiform setae originating from a
groove near apex.
Variation: Only some variation of relative
length of elytra and width of pronotum noted.
Distribution (Fig. 19)
So far recorded only from Pernatty Lagoon,
slightly west of Lake Torrens, South Australia.
Habits
Specimens were collected following excavation
of their burrows. They were widely distributed on
parts of the lake surface lacking a salt crust.
Etymology
The name is a patronym in honour of Eric
Matthews, Curator of Coleoptera at the South
Australian Museum who kindly gave access to the
rich collections of pogonines.
Relationships
The species belongs to the grossi-complex, and
it appears to be most closely related to P. grossi
Moore and P. vicinus sp. nov.
Pogonus vicinus sp. nov.
(Figs 3, 6, 19)
Types
Holotype: male, P. Hudson 9 July 1997 SEG
Exp. Lake Frome 30.6667°S 139.6028°E
(SAMA). Paratypes: 1 male, P. Hudson Jul 1997
pit trap, Lake Frome, SA 30.6667°S 139.6028°E
(CBM); 1 male, G. Medlin 18 May, 1997 Lake
Frome, SA 30.6667°S 139.6028°E (SAMA).
Diagnosis
Moderately small, elongate, uniformly reddish
‘syrdeniform’ species, distinguished from related
species mainly by its rather short and wide elytra
with shallow, barely punctate striae, and the rather
straight though anteriorly abrupt convex lateral
margins of pronotum. Distinguishing characters
are summarised in Tables 1 and 2.
Description
Measurements: Length: 5.1-6.0 mm; width:
1.85—2.10 mm. Ratios: Width/length of pronotum:
1.13-1.16; width base/apex of pronotum: 0.98—
1.01; width of pronotum/width of head: 1.16-
1.21; length/width of elytra: 1.72—1.77; width
elytra/pronotum: 1.30—1.44.
Colour: Upper and lower surfaces including
mouth parts, antennae, and legs dark yellow. Apex
of mandibles dark.
Head (Fig. 3): Rather large and wide, fairly
convex, slightly narrower than pronotum. Eyes
rather small, fairly depressed, laterally not much
projecting, posteriorly slightly enclosed. Labrum
short and wide, apex gently emarginate.
Mandibles moderate, apex fairly incurved. Palpi
of moderate size, penultimate palpomere of labial
palpus fairly slender, slightly bowed. Submentum
quadrisetose, tooth of mentum wide, slightly cleft,
bidentate. Lacinia with elongate spines. Clypeus
and frons convex in middle, frontal furrows fairly
NEW POGONINES FROM SOUTH AUSTRALIA 7
6
7
FIGURES 5-7. Male genitalia: Aedeagus, left side, parameres, genital ring. 5. Pogonus matthewsi sp. nov. 6.
Pogonus vicinus sp. nov. 7. Pogonus perovalis sp. nov. Scales: 0.5 mm.
8 M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
short, sinuate, fairly shallow, posteriorly ending in
an irregular impression. Antennae rather short, not
attaining base of pronotum, median antennomeres
about a third longer than wide, sparsely pilose
from middle of 3% antennomere, more densely
pilose from 5" antennomere. Surface glossy,
impunctate, without microreticulation.
Pronotum (Fig. 3): Slightly wider than long,
rather depressed, not cordiform, widest at anterior
third slightly behind position of anterior lateral
seta. Base about as wide as apex. Apex slightly
produced beyond anterior angles, convex,
emarginate in middle. Anterior angles very sharply
rounded off, almost rectangular. Lateral border
anteriorly convex or even almost oblique, then
oblique and straight, just in front of basal angles
incurved and forming a very small concavity.
Marginal channel narrow, posteriorly slightly
widened, border slightly upturned. Basal angles
rectangular, very faintly dentiform, base convex,
laterally rather oblique. Both apex and middle of
base unmargined. Anterior transverse sulcus fairly
distinct, median line very shallow, attaining base
though not apex, basal transverse sulcus
moderately shallow, distinct. Basal grooves
circular, merging into marginal channel. Anterior
lateral seta situated in front of anterior third and
point of greatest width, posterior marginal seta
arising from basal angle. Apex and base rugosely
punctate-striolate. Disk impunctate, without
microreticulation, with very faint, irregularly
transverse strioles, glossy.
Elytra (Fig. 3): Comparatively short and wide
for group, moderately narrow, not parallel,
dorsally rather depressed, widest at middle.
Humeri very obtusely angulate or almost rounded.
Lateral margin gently convex over most of its
distance, slightly narrowed towards humeri,
contiguous at sutural angle. Marginal channel
extremely narrow, margin not explanate. All striae
complete, not much impressed, almost
impunctate. Eighth stria not bowed away from
margin. Basal margin evenly curved into short
scutellar stria medially of 1 stria. Intervals
depressed. Third interval with 4, rarely unilaterally
3 or 5 setiferous punctures, the anterior and
median ones adjacent to 3" stria, situated about at
basal third and at middle, the third and fourth ones
in posterior third attached to 2™ stria. 10-11
widely spaced submarginal punctures in a more or
less interrupted row attached to 8" stria. Scutellar
pore and seta present, at base of 1‘ stria. Intervals
impunctate, with fairly superficial, isodiametric
microreticulation. Wings fully developed.
Lower surface: Prosternum not pilose.
Metepisternum rather elongate, about a half longer
than wide at apex. Terminal sternum in males
bisetose, unknown in females.
Legs: Rather short and stout, metafemur
moderately stout, tibiae fairly well depressed, with
sparse and weak spination. Tibial spurs
moderately elongate. Tarsi rather short, 1"
tarsomere of metatarsus much shorter than both
following tarsomeres. Metatrochanter in males
short, wide, a third of length of metafemur, apex
obtusely rounded. Tarsomeres 1-3 of male
protarsus slightly asymmetrically widened on
median side, 1“ tarsomere biseriately squamose,
2™ tarsomere with few squamae on median border
only.
Male genitalia (Fig. 6): Genital ring rather
regularly triangular. Aedeagus small, short and
compact, laterally depressed, slightly asymmetric,
lower surface regularly though gently curved,
apex rather short, obtuse at tip, slightly turned to
right side. Internal sac with a coiled, circular,
sclerotised plate near base, and with a distinctly
denticulate, triangular fold near apex. Right
paramere narrow, slightly shorter than left, with 3
elongate apical setae. Left paramere large,
comparatively elongate, tapering to apex, with 3
elongate apical setae.
Female genitalia: Unknown.
Variation: Only some variation of relative width
of pronotum noted.
Distribution (Fig. 19)
So far recorded only from Lake Frome,
southeast of Lake Eyre, South Australia.
Habits
Excavated from burrows in the lake surface and
collected by pitfall trapping.
Etymology
The name refers to the strong similarity of this
species to the related P. grossi Moore and P.
matthewsi sp. nov.
Relationships
The species belongs to the grossi-complex,
where it apparently takes a position near P. grossi
Moore and P. matthewsi sp. nov.
Pogonus perovalis sp. nov.
(Figs 4, 7, 9, 10, 19)
Types
Holotype: male, P. Hudson (SEG Exp 95) Jul
NEW POGONINES FROM SOUTH AUSTRALIA 9
FIGURES 8-9. Female stylomeres 1 and 2. 8. Pogonus
matthewsi sp. nov. 9. Pogonus perovalis sp. nov.
Scales: 0.1 mm.
1995 pit traps Lake Gairdner, SA 32.3014°S
135.8867°E (SAMA). Paratypes: 2 males, 1
female, same data (CBM, SAMA); 1 female, P.
Hudson 3 Sep 1996 Island Lagoon, SA 31.4139°S
136.9292°E (SAMA); | female, Remko Leijs 30
Jun 1996 Lake Hart, SA 31.2278°S 136.3792°E
(SAMA).
Diagnosis
Rather small, convex, apparently depigmented
species, at once distinguished by the oval-shaped,
convex elytra, convex, rather cordiform pronotum,
and elongate antennae.
Description
Measurements: Length: 4.35-5.70 mm; width:
1.60—2.10 mm. Ratios: Width/length of pronotum:
1.03-1.12; width base/apex of pronotum: 0.88—
0.96; width of pronotum/width of head: 1.10—
1.18; length/width of elytra: 1.49-1.53; width
elytra/pronotum:1.49—1.56. Elytral ratios are only
based on a few specimens since all are weakly
sclerotised and most have their elytra opened and
somewhat distorted.
Colour: Apparently depigmented, though all
known specimens freshly hatched, hence
colouration somewhat uncertain. All specimens
very light yellowish. Only apex of mandibles dark.
Head (Fig. 4): Fairly large, rather depressed,
slightly narrower than pronotum. Eyes large,
rather convex, laterally well projecting, posteriorly
not enclosed. Labrum short and wide, apex
straight. Mandibles very elongate, somewhat
decussate, apex incurved. Palpi elongate, apical
palpomeres somewhat incised, slightly subulate.
Penultimate palpomere of labial palpus slender,
slightly bowed. Submentum bisetose, tooth of
mentum wide, slightly cleft, bidentate. Lacinia
with elongate spines. Clypeus and frons convex in
middle, frontal furrows fairly elongate, rather
sinuate, fairly shallow, at posterior end forming
an irregular impression. Irregular wrinkles within
and between impressions. Antennae very elongate,
surpassing base of pronotum by almost 4
antennomeres, median antennomeres > 3 x as long
as wide, pilose from middle of 3 antennomere.
Surface glossy, impunctate, without any
microreticulation.
Pronotum (Fig. 4): Slightly wider than long,
convex, rather cordiform, widest at anterior third
approximately at position of anterior lateral seta.
Base slightly narrower than apex. Apex produced
beyond anterior angles, feebly convex. Anterior
angles sharply rounded off. Lateral border evenly
convex in anterior two thirds, then gently concave
to basal angles. Marginal channel extremely
narrow, border slightly upturned, forming a sharp
edge. Basal angles rectangular, base slightly
convex. Apex and base unmargined. Anterior
transverse sulcus barely indicated, median line
very shallow, attaining base though not apex,
basal transverse sulcus very shallow. Basal
grooves shallow, circular, merging into marginal
channel. Anterior lateral seta situated at anterior
third, at point of greatest width, posterior marginal
seta arising from basal angle. Both apex and base
rugosely punctate-striolate. Disk impunctate and
without microreticulation, highly glossy, with
some very faint, transverse strioles.
Elytra (Fig. 4): Short, markedly oval-shaped,
convex, widest at or slightly behind middle.
Humeri angulate, more or less rectangular. Lateral
margin evenly convex throughout. Marginal
channel narrow, margin not explanate. All striae
complete, well impressed, punctate. Eighth stria
originating at basal fifth, slightly bowed away
from margin. Basal margin evenly curved into
short scutellar stria medially of 1* stria. Intervals
depressed to very feebly convex. Third interval
with 3 setiferous punctures, the anterior and
median ones adjacent to 3" stria, situated at about
basal third and at middle, the third puncture in
posterior third attached to 2™ stria. Nine, rarely 10
10 M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
10
FIGURE 10. Pogonus perovalis sp. nov. Right protibia
and tarsus, dorsolateral view.
widely spaced submarginal punctures in an
uninterrupted row attached to 8" stria. Scutellar
pore and seta present, at base of 1“ stria. Intervals
impunctate, though with very distinct, absolutely
isodiametric microreticulation. Wings absent.
Lower surface: Prosternum not pilose.
Metepisternum very short, shorter than wide at
apex. Terminal sternum in male bisetose, in
female quadrisetose.
Legs (Fig. 10): Remarkably slender and
elongate, especially femora and tibiae. Tibiae not
at all depressed, almost circular, with sparse and
weak spination. All tibial spurs elongate. Tarsi
rather short, 1% tarsomere of metatarsus shorter
than both following tarsomeres. Metatrochanter in
both sexes short, wide, a quarter of length of
metafemur, apex obtusely rounded. Tarsomeres 1—
3 of male protarsus slightly asymmetrically
widened on median side, 1 tarsomere biseriately
squamose, 2™ tarsomere with few squamae on
median border only.
Male genitalia (Fig. 7): Genital ring rather
regularly triangular. Aedeagus comparatively
large, fairly elongate, laterally depressed, slightly
asymmetric, lower surface almost straight, in
apical third markedly concave. Apex laterally very
depressed, scuriform, slightly turned to right side.
Internal sac with a coiled, circular, sclerotised
plate near base, and with a distinctly denticulate,
triangular fold near apex. Right paramere very
slender and elongate, slightly shorter than left,
with one very elongate and two shorter apical
setae, the elongate situated in middle. Left
paramere large, comparatively elongate, tapering
to apex, with 1 very elongate apical seta and a
short, delicate seta below.
Female genitalia (Fig. 9): Stylomere 1
apparently without setae at apex. Stylomere 2
moderately elongate, barely curved, with wide,
obtuse apex, without ventral ensiform setae, with
2 (attached) nematiform setae originating from a
groove very close to apex.
Variation: Apart from some differences in size,
little variation noted.
Distribution (Fig. 19)
Recorded from Lake Gairdner, Island Lagoon,
and Lake Hart, all South Australia.
Habits
Collected in pitfall traps on the lake surface.
Etymology
The name refers to the markedly ovate elytra of
this flightless species.
Relationships
Phylogenetically rather isolated species, but
may be remotely related to the P. grossi species
complex.
Syrdenoidius gen. nov.
Type species: Syrdenoidius spinipes sp. nov., by
monotypy.
Diagnosis
Genus of subfamily Pogoninae. In many
respects highly similar to the Palaearctic genus
Syrdenus Chaudoir, e.g. narrow, elongate,
depressed body shape; absence’ of
microreticulation on elytra; markedly angulate,
even dentate humeri; wide 9" elytral interval;
short, quadrate antennomeres. However, there are
some striking pecularities in Syrdenoidius: asetose
prosternum; presence of several rows of
remarkably elongate spines on all tibiae
(particularly conspicuous on protibia), that occupy
almost the whole length of the tibiae; prolongation
of 8" elytral stria to humerus; absence of scutellar
NEW POGONINES FROM SOUTH AUSTRALIA 11
striole and pore; absence of hind wings, and
quadrate metepisternum; very elongate, forceps-
like mandibles; very unusual female genitalia with
extremely short, straight stylomere 2.
Etymology
The name refers to the strong similarity in
external morphology to the genus Syrdenus.
Relationships
Whereas the similarity of some characters in
Syrdenus and Syrdenoidius is probably
coincidental, several could point to a closer
relationship of both genera. This is especially true
for the wide 9" elytral interval that bears on its
median margin the marginal pores and setae that
are, therefore, far removed from the lateral margin
of the elytra. On the other hand, elongate,
depressed body shape is an adaptation common
within several pogonine genera, not only in
Syrdenus, but also in Pogonus proper and in
Pogonistes. We think that the genus Syrdenoidius
is a highly isolated one though it possibly has
closest affinities with Syrdenus. Whilst Syrdenus is
so far decidedly a Palaearctic genus there is,
however, an as yet undescribed species known
from West Bengal, northeastern India, that
demonstrates that the genus has a wider distribution
than commonly believed. If the genus Syrdenus is a
relict of the former Tethys fauna, then a relationship
with the fauna of western and northwestern Australia
might well be possible since it has been argued that
this area formerly had contact with the Tethys or
was even part of its southern shore (Eric Matthews,
1998, pers. com.). This question may be settled in
the future by more intensive sampling along the
coast and on the inland lakes of Western Australia.
Syrdenoidius spinipes sp. nov.
(Figs 11-19)
Types
Holotype: male, S. AUST. L. Gairdner 32°07‘S
135°53‘E 14 July 95 P. Hudson (SAMA).
Paratypes: 6 males, 13 females, same data (ANIC,
CBM, SAMA); 1 female, P. Hudson 14 July 1995
SEG Exp. 95 Lake Gairdner 32°07‘47"S
135°53‘19"E (SAMA).
Diagnosis
Medium-sized, very elongate, narrow,
depressed, depigmented species with large,
convex head, large though depressed eyes, very
elongate mandibles, almost regularly trapezoidal
pronotum that is widest at apex, non-
microreticulate surface, and remarkably spinose
tibiae.
Description
Measurements: Length: 5.4-6.3 mm; width:
1.50-1.65 mm. Ratios: Width/length of pronotum:
1.03-1.08; width base/apex of pronotum: 0.73—
0.77; width of pronotum/width of head: 1.04—
1.07; length/width of elytra: 2.06—-2.12; width
elytra/pronotum:1,12-1.16.
Colour: Upper and lower surface, including
mouth parts, antennae, and legs light reddish,
elytra very slightly lighter. Apex of mandibles
darker.
Head (Figs 11, 16-18): Large, convex, slightly
narrower than pronotum. Eyes large though
remarkably depressed, laterally barely projecting,
posteriorly not enclosed. Lower rim of eye
forming a sharp edge that slightly surpasses the
eye laterally. Labrum short and wide, apex fairly
emarginate. Mandibles very elongate, somewhat
decussate, apex strongly incurved. Palpi elongate,
apical palpomeres somewhat incised, slightly
subulate. Penultimate palpomere of labial palpus
very slender, slightly bowed. Submentum
sexsetose, tooth of mentum wide, deeply cleft,
markedly bidentate (Fig. 16). Lacinia with very
elongate spines. Ligula bisetose, paraglossae
slightly surpassing glossa (Fig. 17). Clypeus and
frons convex in middle, frontal furrows elongate,
slightly sinuate, beginning on clypeus. Frons
behind frontal furrows with a wide, circular,
shallow impression on either side, irregular
wrinkles between impressions. Antennae short,
wide, not attaining base of pronotum, median
antennomeres almost as wide as long, sparsely
pilose from middle of 3 antennomere, more
densely pilose from 5™ antennomere. Surface
glossy, impunctate, without any microreticulation.
Pronotum (Figs 11, 18): Barely wider than long,
remarkably trapezoidal, widest at apex. Surface
moderately convex. Apex little produced beyond
anterior angles, in middle with very shallow,
triangular excision. Anterior angles broadly
rounded. Lateral margin almost straight, oblique,
slightly rounded only near apex, faintly incurved
towards base. Border somewhat irregular, bearing
several slight notches. Basal angles obtusely
rounded, base almost straight. Marginal channel
extremely narrow, margin forming a fairly sharp
ridge. Apex unmargined, base coarsely margined,
margin narrowly surrounding basal angles and
meeting lower margin of epipleura, this margin
12 M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
15
FIGURES 11-15. Syrdenoidius spinipes gen. nov., sp. nov. 11. Habitus. Length 5.6mm. 12. Female stylomeres 1
and 2. Scale 0.1mm. 13. Right protibia and tarsus, dorsal view. 14. right protibia, dorsolateral view. Scale: 0.5 mm.
15. Male genitalia: Aedeagus, left side, parameres, genital ring. Scale 0.5mm.
NEW POGONINES FROM SOUTH AUSTRALIA 13
| |
wy
16
17
FIGURES 16-18. Syrdenoidius spinipes gen. nov. sp. nov. 16. Mentum and submentum, ventral view. Scale: 0.5
mm 17. Ligula, ventral view. Scale: 0.1 mm. 18. Base of left elytron. Scale 0.5 mm.
sometimes even visible from above (Fig. 18).
Anterior transverse sulcus barely indicated,
median line very shallow, deepened near base,
attaining apex and base. Basal transverse sulcus
shallow though distinct. Base coarsely striolate,
basal grooves rather shallow, irregular. Anterior
marginal seta inserted at anterior fourth, posterior
seta situated just in front of basal angle, anterior
and posterior setae slightly removed from margin.
Disk impunctate and without any
microreticulation, highly glossy, though laterally
with some transverse striolations.
Elytra (Figs 11, 18): Very narrow and elongate,
parallel-sided, markedly depressed. Humeri very
sharply projecting, markedly angulate. Lateral
margin gently oblique or slightly convex in basal
fourth, then parallel, only in apical fourth convex
again. Marginal channel narrow throughout.
Apical angles broadly rounded, apex in middle
slightly incised. No internal plica visible from
outside. Striae complete, deep, not punctate, but
somewhat irregular, sometimes interrupted or with
anastomoses. Eighth stria bowed away from
margin in anterior fourth, laterally leaving a wide
space, though anteriorly attaining humerus. Basal
margin evenly curved into 1™ stria, no scutellar
stria present. Scutellar pore and seta absent.
Intervals convex, though their surface rather
uneven. Third interval with 3 setiferous punctures
adjoining 3" stria, the first situated in anterior
third, the second in middle, the third in apical
third, but their position rather variable.
Submarginal punctures far removed from margin,
adjoining lateral margin of 8" stria, consisting of
4 punctures in anterior group and 6 punctures in
posterior group, with a wide space between them.
Also with 1 puncture at end of 5" interval and 2™
interval. Surface impunctate, without
microreticulation, highly glossy. Wings almost
completely reduced.
Lower surface: Prosternum not pilose.
Metepisternum short, barely longer than wide at
apex. Terminal sternum in male bisetose, in
female quadrisetose.
Legs (Figs 13, 14): Moderately elongate.
Protibia and mesotibia with 4 rows of remarkably
stout and elongate spines all along dorsal, lateral,
and latero-ventral surfaces. Metatibia less spinose.
Apical tibial spurs of protibia and mesotibia
remarkably elongate, much longer than 1*
tarsomere. Tarsi rather short, 1 tarsomere of
metatarsus shorter than both following tarsomeres.
Tarsi remarkably hirsute. Tarsomeres 1-3 of male
protarsus slightly asymmetrically widened on
median side, 1° and 2™ tarsomeres with few
squamae on median border. Metatrochanter in
both sexes less than half as long as metafemur,
obtuse at apex.
Male genitalia (Fig. 15): Genital ring wide, in
basal half almost quadrangular, apically regularly
triangular, rather symmetric. Aedeagus short and
very compact, laterally depressed, slightly
asymmetric, lower surface barely curved, apex
very short, obtuse, barely turned laterally. Internal
sac with a complexly coiled, in parts heavily
sclerotised plate near base, and with a distinctly
denticulate, triangular fold near apex. Right
paramere moderately narrow, about a third shorter
than left, with 3 elongate apical setae. Left
paramere elongate, rather slender, abruptly
narrowed to the downcurved apex, with 3 elongate
apical setae.
14 M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
Female genitalia (Fig. 12): Stylomere 1 2. — _ Elytra with distinct microreticulation,;
apparently without setae at apex. Stylomere 2 very humerus not so angulate (Figs 2-4);
short, straight, almost quadrate, with wide, convex protibia with a short row of moderate
apex, without ensiform setae, though with an spines on lateral surface only (Fig. 10);
elongate nematiform seta arising from apex. pronotum differently shaped, widest far
Variation: Very little variation noted. behind anterior angles (Figs 2-4). Widely
distributed in Australia... ccc
Distribution Agog) scat Radececdeahoongacetebogeete? Pogonus Dejean
Only recorded from Lake Gairdner, South
Australia.
Habits Key To THE AUSTRALIAN SPECIES OF THE GENUS
Excavated from burrows in the lake surface. Poconus DEJEAN
Etymology 1. — Body completely metallic green or
The name refers to the remarkably spinose LACK... 44.40 detovh Meatie Mett ste dhol. 2
tibiae of this species. — Body entirely or in parts testaceous ..... 5
2. — Colour shining black; punctures of elytra
very coarse, microreticulation in-
conspicuous. Northeastern Queensland,
coastal and inland ...... nigrescens Baehr
— Colour greenish metallic; punctures of
elytra finer, microreticulation conspicuous.
Key To THE GENERA OF AUSTRALIAN POGONINAE
1. — Elytra without microreticulation; humerus
sharply angulate (Figs 11, 18); protibia with
several rows of elongate spines on dorsal
and lateral surfaces that occupy almost the Southern half of Australia ............0.0. 3
whole length (Figs 13, 14); pronotum 3. — Sixth and 7" striae almost similar to inner
remarkably trapezoidal, widest at anterior 5 striae; flightless; elytral margins ovate.
angles (Fig. 4). Lake Gairdner, SA........... Lake Yindarlgooda, Western Australia .
Syrdenoidius gen. nov. (only S. spinipes sp. sresteseseeeneeseeseeeeteetsesersetees fennelli Hudson
nov.) — Sixth and 7" striae less marked than 5
ny
Fike Fat, a )
a wy se
-
FIGURE 19. Distribution of Pogonus matthewsi sp. nov. (W), P. vicinus sp. nov. (A), P. perovalis sp. nov. (@),
Syrdenoidius spinipes gen. nov., sp. nov. (*).
NEW POGONINES FROM SOUTH AUSTRALIA 15
inner striae; fully winged; elytral margins
more parallel sided ............::cceseeeeee 4
Smaller (body length 6.3-6.8 mm), body
narrower, more convex; pronotum
markedly sinuate in front of the acute
basal angles, these being 90° or less;
submarginal basal ridge of pronotum
scarcely indicated. Southern Australia from
Western Australia to Victoria along coast
satecntetaded@eshezitemretngs australis Chaudoir
Larger (body length 7.5-8.5 mm), body
wider, less convex; pronotum less sinuate,
basal angles more obtuse, these being c.
100°; submarginal basal ridge of pronotum
conspicuous. Coastal and inland from
southern half of Western Australia to
southeastern Queensland ............eseeeeee
WTtanedadelinwa dontetee cardiotrachelus Chaudoir
Bicoloured, head and pronotum distinctly
darker than elytra 00.0... cseccesseeeeseseeee 6
Completely testaceous or light reddish,
head and pronotum not perceptibly darker
than elytra (variable species under both
0111 0) (316) De ne 7
Large, convex species (body length 9-11
mm); pronotum not lobate, distinctly
sinuate in front of basal angles. Northern
Australia from northwestern Queensland
to the Kimberleys, coastal and along tidal
TIVETS ssisscesoussngesgapandvads variabilis Moore
Small, depressed species (body length c.
6.5 mm); pronotum lobate, barely sinuate
in frontofbasal angles. Inland saline habitats
in Western Australia and South Australia
watagecodat auch is iapweHhesseerseatdiacaee zietzi Sloane
Large species (body length >9 mm); either
pronotum distinctly sinuate in front of
basal angles and base about as wide as
apex, or pronotum rather quadrate with
characteristically bisinuate base, and elytra
wide, oval-shaped, and depressed with
wide, explanate lateral margin. Northern
Australia from northwestern Queensland
to Exmouth Gulf, coastal and along tidal
Smaller species (body length <8.5 mm);
pronotum distinctly sinuate or not in front
of basal angles; but when distinctly sinuate,
then base markedly narrower than apex;
when not sinuate, then elytra not wide,
oval-shaped, and depressed; and with
narrower, not explanate lateral margin.
Inland in southern half of Australia..... 9
8.
10.
11.
12.
Pronotum distinctly sinuate in front of
basal angles, lateral margin not explanate
at base; eyes convex, laterally markedly
protruding; elytra less wide and depressed,
lateral margin not explanate, striation
deeper and more complete, striae distinctly
punctate. Northern Australia from
northwestern Queensland to the
Kimberleys ............005 variabilis Moore
Pronotum rather quadrate, lateral margin
conspicuously explanate at base; eyes
depressed, laterally little protruded; elytra
wide and depressed, lateral margin
explanate, striation shallow and laterally
incomplete, striae more finely punctate.
Coast of northwestern Australia south of
Great Sandy Desert.......... sumlini Baehr
Pronotum distinctly sinuate in front of
basal angles and base markedly narrower
than apex; left paramere with 2 apical
setae, right paramere with a single apical
seta. South Australia, Lake Eyre Basin..
adhe ge lh Gan ditsl Lavt aacics) Raptcatceh cual gilesi Moore
Pronotum either not distinctly sinuate in
front of basal angles or base about as wide
as apex; left paramere with 3, right
paramere with 2 or 3 apical setae ...... 10
Large, convex species (body length 7.2-
8.4 mm); head large, pronotum laterally
markedly convex. South Australia,
northwestern Victoria 0.0... eeeeseeeeeteeee
hi ht tncatoute'cy dels hypharpagioides Sloane
Smaller, more depressed species (body
length <6.5 mm); head smaller, pronotum
laterally less CONVEX .........:.:ccesseeeseees 11
Pronotum rather quadrate, lateral margin
evenly curved from apex to base, widest in
middle; elytral striae shallow, only 3 inner
striae distinct. Interior of Western Australia
doudidaderrdioeledhgpeaday diplochaetoides Baehr
Pronotum more narrowed to base than to
apex, widestin anterior third, lateral margin
not so evenly curved; elytral striae deeper,
at least 5 inner striae distinct. South
AUStra liao). isctectagtdeitectues coseesgactoa tes 12
Elytra laterally and dorsally convex,
oviform; pronotum narrow, convex, with
elongate sinuation in front of basal angles
(Fig. 4); antenna elongate, median
antennomeres >3 x as long as wide. Lake
Gairdner, Island Lagoon, Lake Hart ......
Sac iiitaibtetbaabecgvenshadarsete perovalis sp. nov.
Elytra elongate, parallel, dorsally
16 M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
depressed; pronotum wide, depressed, with
at most a short sinuation in front of basal
angles (Figs 2, 3); antenna short, median
antennomeres <1.5 x as long as wide ....
ablidiveblencasateshosnpeqesibesveasonedhgesdetengnea dines 13
Smaller species (body length4. 14.9 mm);
lateral margin of pronotum straight or
slightly concave in front of base, basal
angle almost 90°, distinctly projecting.
Lake Gairdner, Island Lagoon, Lake Hart
FantVsesshsseneseedeneaticeveraninscascand saskiae Baehr
— Larger species (body length 5.2-6.4 mm);
lateral margin of pronotum convex to base,
basal angle obtuse, or dentiform........ 14
14. —_ Elytraratherconvex, intervals remarkably
convex, microreticulation conspicuous.
Pernatty Lagoon....... matthewsi sp. nov.
— Elytra rather depressed, intervals but
slightly convex, microreticulation distinct
though not CONSPICUOUS ......... eee 15
Lateral margin of pronotum evenly convex,
basal angle not dentiform; elytra longer,
striae rather deep, distinctly punctate. Lake
VTS 0 ctebpretecs Becteverpeadtesst grossi Moore
— Lateral margin of pronotum rather straight,
in anterior third suddenly convex, basal
angle dentiform; elytra shorter, striae rather
shallow, barely punctate. Lake Frome ...
saidpusnanedindsvievapeterepegeeaptyertens vicinus Sp. NOV.
REMARKS
The collections included within this paper have
been made from lakes ranging up in size from
approximately 0.3 km? (‘Artaming Lake’, south of
Lake Acraman) to large systems such as Lake
Torrens, Lake Frome, Lake Gairdner, and Lake
Tyrell. Usually the collections were made when
the lakes were devoid of surface water. The
beetles were usually collected during the day by
excavating their burrows, the location of which
was indicated by a small mound of mud on the
lake surface. The beetles occupy a large part of
the dry lake surface that is free of salt crust. Some
collections have also been made using pitfall
traps, even on surfaces covered with a thin salt
crust and some specimens were detected while
running on the surface at night.
From excavated specimens and pit-trapping at
least two species are known to occur on Lake
Gairdner, Syrdenoidius spinipes and P. perovalis.
According to Moore (1977), at the shore of Lake
Eyre three species have been also found together
at light, namely P. hypharpagioides, P. gilesi, and
P. grossi. However, as on Lake Gairdner, the three
species represent rather different life style types,
namely a large, bulky one (P. hypharpagioides), a
medium sized one (P. gilesi, comparable to P.
perovalis), and an elongate, depressed one (P.
grossi, comparable to Syrdenoidius spinipes).
Hence, the species obviously occupy a special
niche, at least with respect to food preferences
which is demonstrated by their different head
sizes and mandible lengths and shapes.
If this and other recent papers on the Australian
pogonine fauna are any indication then it is most
likely that there are numerous other taxa awaiting
collection and description. With the existence of
flightless taxa there is an increased likelihood that
some species will be highly endemic. Clearly a
systematic survey of the salt lake fauna of
southern Australia is warranted, in the first
instance to establish the extent of the Australian
fauna and secondly for conservation purposes
since many salt lakes, especially those in Western
Australia, are sites of intense mining activity.
The ‘island-like’ nature of the Australian salt
lake habitats and the range in their size and degree
of geographic isolation make studies of their
fauna particularly interesting from an evolutionary
and genetic perspective (e.g. see Hudson and
Adams 1996). Desender and Serrano (1999) have
highlighted the value of using electrophoresis
techniques in the study of variation in Atlantic
and Mediterranean European populations of
Pogonus chalceus and similar such studies could
provide valuable insight to the Australian
pogonines.
Wing atrophy and flightlessness in beetles has
been documented by numerous authors
(Kavanaugh 1985, Roff 1990, and references
therein). In pogonines outside Australia, full wing
atrophy is only known in the Californian
Thalassotrechus barbarae (Horn), an intertidal
species which is outstanding also in other
morphological characters. Principally, all other
known pogonines possess fully developed wings
and are capable of flight. However, reduction in
wing size and lack of functional flight
musculature is known in some Pogonus chalceus
populations (Desender 1989, pers. com. 1999),
though the Mediterranean populations of that
species are capable of flight (Ravizza 1972).
Hence, from the viewpoint of wing development
the Australian pogonine fauna seems to be highly
unusual, because full reduction of wings is known
in three rather different Australian groups, the
NEW POGONINES FROM SOUTH AUSTRALIA 17
genus Syrdenoidius and the fully pigmented and
depigmented species groups of the genus
Pogonus.
It should be stressed, however, that in
Australia at least, there is a clear difference
between species inhabiting saline coastal habitats
and those that exclusively live on inland salt
lakes. Unlike in the Mediterranean, for example,
the Australian sea shores are inhabited only by
quite large, convex species of normal
‘pogoniform’ habitus (P. australis, P.
cardiotrachelus, P. nigrescens, P. sumlini, P.
variabilis), most of which are pigmented,
whereas elongate, depressed, depigmented
‘syrdeniform’ species are completely absent from
these environments. These latter species occur in
saline inland environments together with
pigmented species (P. cardiotrachelus, P.
fennelli), and convex, medium-sized or large,
either depigmented or partly depigmented
species (P. gilesi, P. hypharpagioides, P. zietzi).
Flightless species have been found only in inland
environments (P. fennelli, P. perovalis,
Syrdenoidius spinipes).
If we argue that the pigmented ‘pogoniform’
species, from the viewpoint of phylogeny, are most
plesiotypic, and the depigmented ‘syrdeniform’
species most apotypic, then the interior saline
environment in Australia has a very diverse, highly
evolved pogonine fauna, which is evidence of a
long term history of the fauna. In the rich pogonine
fauna of the Mediterranean region which likewise
includes normal ‘pogoniform’ species and
‘syrdeniform’ species the latter occur only at the
sea shore. The history of the Australian pogonine
fauna thus is strikingly different and once more it
demonstrates the island-like structure of the
Australian inland saline habitats that must have
been isolated for a long period.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Lakes Gairdner and Frome are within the SA
National Parks and Reserves system and permits
Z23651-01 and Z23803-02 were issued for the
collections made from these lakes. The Scientific
Expedition Group is thanked for the opportunity to be
involved in field trips to the Gawler Ranges and
Balcanoona Station. Paul Fennell, Remko Leijs and
Jayne Skinner are thanked for their collecting efforts.
We thank Eric Matthews (SAMA) for the loan of most
of the material.
REFERENCES
BAEHR, M. 1984. Pogonus nigrescens sp. n. from
North Queensland (Coleoptera: Carabidae). Journal
of the Australian Entomological Society 23: 169-
171.
BAEHR, M. 1997. Two new species of the genus
Pogonus Nicolai from Australia (Insecta, Coleoptera,
Carabidae, Pogoninae). Spixiana 20: 1-6.
BAEHR, M. 1999. A new species of the genus Pogonus
Nicolai from Northwestern Australia (Insecta,
Coleoptera, Carabidae, Pogoninae). Spixiana 22:
143-147.
BAEHR, M. & R. SCIAKY (in press). A new species of
Pogonus Nicolai from Madagascar (Insecta,
Coleoptera, Carabidae, Pogoninae). Journal of
African Zoology.
BOUSQUET, Y. & S. LAPLANTE 1997. Taxonomic
review of the New World Pogonini (Coleoptera:
Carabidae). The Canadian Entomologist 129: 699-
731.
CHAUDOIR, M. de 1871. Essai monographique sur le
groupe des Pogonides. Annales de la Société
Entomologique de Belgique 14: 21-61.
CHAUDOIR M. de 1878. Descriptions de genres
nouveaux et d’espéces inédites de la famille des
Carabiques. Bulletin de la Société Impériale des
Naturalistes de Moscou 53: 1-80.
DESENDER K. 1989. Heritability of wing development
and body size in a carabid beetle, Pogonus chalceus
Marsham, and its evolutionary significance.
Oecologia 78: 512-520.
DESENDER, K. & J. SERRANO 1999. A genetic
comparison of Atlantic and Mediterranean
populations of a saltmarsh beetle. Belgian Journal of
Zoology 129: 83-94.
HUDSON, P. (2000). A new flightless species of
Pogonus Nicolai (Coleoptera: Carabidae) from
Western Australia. Australian Journal of
Entomology 39: 241-243.
HUDSON, P. & M. ADAMS 1996. Allozyme
characterisation of the salt lake spiders (Lycosa:
Lycosidae: Araneae) of southern Australia:
Systematic and population genetic implications.
Australian Journal of Zoology 44: 535-567.
KAVANAUGH, D. H. 1985. On wing atrophy in
carabid beetles (Coleoptera: Carabidae), with special
reference to Nearctic Nebria. Pp. 408-432 in
‘Taxonomy, phylogeny and zoogeography of beetles
and ants’. Ed. G. E. Ball. Dr. W. Junk Publishers:
Dordrecht.
KRYZHANOVSKIJ, O. L. 1990. New and little known
species of the tribe Pogonini (Coleoptera, Carabidae)
from Middle Asia and Kazakhstan. Trudy
Zoologicheskogo Instituta Akademiya Nauk SSSR
211: 3-8 (in Russian).
18 M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
KRYZHANOVSKIJ, O. L. & V. A. MICHAILOV
1971. New and little known ground beetles
(Coleoptera, Carabidae) from Middle Asia.
Entomologicheskoe Obozrenie 50: 632-640 (in
Russian).
LORENZ, W. 1998. Systematic list of extant ground
beetles of the world (Insecta Coleoptera
‘Geadephaga’: Trachypachidae and Carabidae incl.
Paussinae, Cicindelinae, Rhysodinae). Tutzing: pp.
1-502 (printed by the author).
MOORE, B. P. 1977. New or little known Pogoninae
(Coleoptera: Carabidae) from Lake Eyre, South
Australia. Australian Entomological Magazine 4:
63-67.
MOORE, B. P. 1991. A new species of Pogonus
Nicolai (Coleoptera: Carabidae) from northern
Australia. Australian Entomological Magazine 18:
31-34.
MOORE, B. P., WEIR, T. A. & J. E. PYKE. 1987.
Rhysodidae and Carabidae. In: Zoological Catalogue
of Australia 4: 17-320. Australian Government
Publishing Service, Canberra.
MORVAN, P. 1973. Nouveaux Coléoptéres Carabiques
d’Iran. Bulletin du Museum National d'Histoire
Naturelle. 3e séries, Zoologie, no 110: 169-186.
RAVIZZA, C. 1972. I Pogonus (s.1.) dei litorali italiani
(Coleoptera, Carabidae). Bollettino del Museo Civico
di Storia Naturale di Venezia 22-23: 7-65.
ROFF, D.A. 1990. The evolution of flightlessness in
insects. Ecological Monographs 60(4): 389-421.
SLOANE, T. G. 1895. Notes on Carabidae from Lake
Callabonna, Central Australia. Transactions of the
Royal Society of South Australia 19: 124-137.
APPENDIX
Checklist of the recorded species of Pogoninae from Australia
Pogonus australis Chaudoir
Pogonus cardiotrachelus Chaudoir
Pogonus diplochaetoides Baehr
Pogonus fenelli Hudson
Pogonus gilesi Moore
Pogonus grossi Moore
Pogonus hypharpagioides Sloane
Pogonus matthewsi sp. nov.
Pogonus nigrescens Baehr
Pogonus perovalis sp. nov.
Pogonus saskiae Baehr
Pogonus sumlini Baehr
Pogonus variabilis Moore
Pogonus vicinus sp. nov.
Pogonus zietzi Sloane
Syrdenoidius spinipes gen. nov., sp. nov.
s.WA, VIC
s.WA, VIC, s.QLD
c.WA
s.WA
c.SA
c.SA
c.SA, w. VIC
c.SA
ne.QLD
c.SA
c.SA
n.WA
n.QLD, n.NT, n. WA
c.SA
c.WA, c.SA
c.SA
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF WHALES TO THE ABORIGINAL PEOPLE
OF SOUTHERN SOUTH AUSTRALIA
PHILIP A. CLARKE
CLARKE, P. A. 2001. The significance of whales to the Aboriginal people of southern South
Australia. Records of the South Australian Museum 34(1): 19-35.
Aboriginal people in the coastal region of South Australia had a broad relationship with
whales. This is reflected in their hunting and gathering economy, mythology and totemism, and
with their historical interaction with the first Europeans who arrived to hunt the whale. This
paper provides a cultural geographical view of Aboriginal associations with whales.
P. A. Clarke, Science Division, South Australian Museum, North Terrace, Adelaide, South
Australia 5000. Manuscript submitted 4 November 1999.
INTRODUCTION
The importance of whales to both Aboriginal
people and Europeans had an impact upon the
nature of their relationship on the frontier of
British expansion into South Australia in the early
nineteenth century. In earlier times, coastal
Aboriginal people feasted upon stranded whales,
which also had significance as totemic ancestors
to some groups. In the Lower Murray region,
whales were the mythological source of their
ability to make fire. After official European
settlement in 1836, many Aboriginal people were
involved directly and indirectly in whaling
activities. To Europeans, whales were the basis of
an industry that they hoped would help the Colony
of South Australia to develop and prosper. In the
developing Australian colonies, the whaling
establishments were in need of manual labour,
which Aboriginal people sometimes supplied. The
first Europeans recognised the skill of Indigenous
hunters, sometimes employing them as harpooners
and whale spotters. As a region, southern South
Australia is defined in this paper as the whole of
the coastal zone and the surrounding temperate
parts of the state.
SOURCES
The present study is part of a series of papers
by the author that considers the historical and
mythological relationships between Aboriginal
people and the southern South Australian
landscape (Clarke 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998, 1999a,
1999b). Europeans recorded the information upon
which it is based from Aboriginal people who had
lived in the southern districts prior to and during
the early phases of European colonisation in
South Australia. The material available consists of
the observations from Europeans involved in the
colonial process. The German missionaries,
Christian G. Teichelmann, Clamor W. Schiirmann
and Heinrich A. E. Meyer actively recorded the
culture of the local Aboriginal people. Their
publications were essentially studies of Aboriginal
language and religion (see Teichelmann &
Schurmann 1840; Teichelmann 1841; Meyer
1843, 1846; Schurmann 1844, 1846). The records
of William D. Wyatt (1879) from the late 1830s
came from his official investigations into the
admissibility of Aboriginal evidence in court.!
Richard Penney was involved in the welfare of
Aboriginal people in the Encounter Bay district.
Later sources, such as George Taplin (Journals;
1874; 1879), acknowledged the first recorders,
such as Meyer, as major sources of primary data.
These observers had a practical interest in
Aboriginal religion and traditions, in spite of the
fact that their records were compiled before the
development of anthropological theory. From
them the early relationship between Europeans
and Aboriginal people can be interpreted.
During the twentieth century, with the
development of scientific methods with obtaining
anthropological data, much additional
' Quarterly Report (1 October to 31 December 1837) from Wyatt to the Colonial Secretary, dated 1 January 1838 (Colonial Secretary Reports, 1838/
3 & 1838/69, Public Records Office, Adelaide).
20 P. A. CLARKE
ethnographic material was collected from southern
South Australia. Norman B. Tindale (1937, 1938,
1974, 1986, 1987), the Curator of Anthropology
at the South Australian Museum, published the
results of his fieldwork with the descendants of
Aboriginal ‘tribes’ in southern South Australia.”
The social anthropologists, Alfred R. Brown
(1918), Ronald M. Berndt and Catherine H.
Berndt (Berndt 1940; Berndt & Berndt 1993)
recorded Aboriginal culture and traditions in this
region. The twentieth century ethnographic
sources are essentially attempts to record a pre-
European culture, as it would have been lived by
the generations preceding that of their informants.
The popular accounts of southern South
Australian mythology by Charles P. Mountford
and Ainslie Roberts were chiefly based on the
published records of Tindale. A more detailed
analysis of the chief historical sources used in this
paper is given elsewhere (Clarke 1994: 63-81,
417-425; 1995: 145-146; 1999a: 52-53).
PRE-EUROPEAN PRACTICES
The coastline of South Australia is part of the
migration route of the southern right whale
(Eubalaena australis) from the Southern Ocean.
Occasional strandings of whales were events that
attracted many Aboriginal people for feasting.
Daisy Bates recorded that the Wanmaring local
group at the Head of the Bight in western South
Australia had ‘occasional gorges in large fish
food, dead whales and other large sea creatures
being found after some great storm’.? Aboriginal
people considered that they had an active role in
some strandings. For example, songs were used
by ‘strong men’ of the coastal Lower Murray
groups to ‘cause’ whale strandings (Tindale 1974:
18, 23-24, 80).* People from surrounding areas
converged on the dead whale, being called by the
aroma of a stranding, if not the messages sent out.
In the Aboriginal languages around Adelaide and
Encounter Bay the whales of all species were
collectively called kondoli.6 Tindale records
another term for them that referred to their water
blowing. Tindale says:
The whales which frequented the shores off the
mouth of the Murray River and the rocks at
Encounter Bay where they often came close in shore
were called winkulare, literally the ‘whistlers’ or
‘blowers’ from the intransitive verb winkulun
‘whistle’ because of their ‘blowing’. Magical spells
designed to entice the whales ashore were practised
by the ‘clever’ men.°®
For the Lower South East of South Australia,
there is a transcription of a whale song in the
“‘Booandik’ language (Smith 1880: 139). This was
translated as “The whale is come. And thrown up
on land.’ These lines were repeated over and over,
perhaps to induce a stranding.’ Evidence from
elsewhere in Australia, such as the rock art around
Sydney in New South Wales, suggests that coastal
Aboriginal people had a keen interest in whales.®
Aboriginal people of the whale descent group
at Encounter Bay believed that some of them
could ‘sing’ whales in towards the shore or out,
by standing on a rock and singing some
‘wordless chant’.? Tindale (1937: 107, 112)
recorded a whale song, in the Ramindjeri dialect
Tindale’s journals, field notebooks, and the ‘Milerum’ manuscript are also important ethnographic sources. This material is housed in the
Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum.
‘The Passing of the Australian Native. The Wanmaring Group (Head of the Great Australian Bight).’ D. M. Bates manuscript collection at the Barr-
Smith Library in Box 12/Section XIII/Part 6b.
Aboriginal people claimed in the early 1980s that an elderly Ngarrindjeri person living at Point McLeay, who had recently died, knew how to ‘sing
a song to bring in whales’. Also in the early 1980s, some elderly Ngarrindjeri informants knew that there was a myth concerning whales and fire,
but had forgotten the details (audiotape of the Cameron family talking at Kingston South East with P. G. Jones, S. J. Hemming & P. A. Clarke, 23
April 1983. Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum).
In the Adelaide area, whales were termed ‘con-dol-ley’ (Williams 1839 [1840: 295]), ‘kondolli’ (Teichelmann & Schiirmann 1840 2; 12) and
‘condollee’ (Stephens 1889: 498). For the Lower Murray dialects, the name for whale is recorded as ‘kondarli’ by G. Taplin (1879 [1874]; 1879)
and F. Taplin (Point McLeay Letter Books, 1879-84, p.98), ‘kondolle’ (Wyatt 1879: 170), ‘kandarli’ (Howitt 1904), ‘kondolly’ (M. Wilson in
‘conventional mission script’ [Tindale 1930-52: 161-165]), ‘kondolly’, ‘kondal’ (Tindale 1934-37), ‘kondoli’ by Tindale (1937), ‘kondali’
(Mountford & Berndt 1941), ‘kondole’ by Mountford and Roberts (1969) and ‘kondili’ by Berndt and Berndt (1993). This paper uses ‘Kondoli’ as
a standard term for the Whale Ancestor.
Tindale (‘Milerum' manuscript, stage A, no.3. Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum).
After European settlement, Aboriginal people of the South East of South Australia also had a popular song about the ‘whale fishery’ at Rivoli Bay
(Stewart n.d, [1977: 65-66]).
Whales are major elements in the rock art in the Sydney area. At least one site appears to show a feast around a stranded whale (Campbell 1899:
46-47, pl. 24, fig. 1; Stanbury & Clegg 1990: 22-23, 54, 80-83, 113, 119). In September 1790, Tench (1793 [1996: 134]) records the feasting of a
stranded whale which was ‘in the most disgusting state of putrefaction’ in the Sydney region. Kingston (1876: 277-278, 327) gives a related
account from north of Sydney.
The Mail newspaper, 19 August 1932. There are recent accounts recorded by Bell (1998: 320) concerning Aboriginal people formerly using whales
for transport, although these are unsupported by the historical record.
SIGNIFICANCE OF WHALES 21
of the northern end of Encounter Bay, to send
whales away.'° This was sung by a man of the
kondoli nga:tji, or whale descent group, in order
to assist a female whale and calf escape the
shallow waters of Encounter Bay.!' In this
account, other people who were ‘evil-minded’,
desired the whales to be stranded so that
kraipunuk or oil could be collected for ‘spear
poison’, perhaps as a sorcery material used
against people who had the whale as their
totemic familiar or nga: tji. Tindale stated:
A man who had the whale as totem would not eat
whale. If a whale became stranded on the coast, he
would give permission for others to use it as food,
but he himself would merely rub himself with the oil
which it produced. If he saw a whale floundering off
the shore, he would sing a magical song, telling the
whale to avoid the shallows and escape to the sea.'*
Tindale stated that to decorate themselves the
men of the Warki and Tangani groups of the
Lower Murray region would be ruddled with red
ochre and whale oil.'’ Elsewhere in southern
South Australia, it is also likely that whales were
considered to be totemic beings, although apart
from the Lower Murray region, the available early
ethnographic data is slim.
The whale was associated with the Latalindjera
descent group, which received its name from the
place, Latang, at Hindmarsh River near Victor
Harbor at Encounter Bay (Berndt & Berndt 1993:
311). To the south of Encounter Bay,
Kondilindjarung (‘whale, place-name marker’)
was a death place for whales, where one or two
often beached themselves during the winter
months (Berndt & Berndt 1993: 81, 103, 320,
326-327, 342, 565). It is situated on the
Younghusband Peninsula on the seaside, south
east of the Murray Mouth but north west of
Noonamena. It was claimed that Kondilindjarung
was where the people of this group and their
associated beings, the whales, attempted to return
before death. The Coorong ocean beach was
renowned for its whale remains. Tindale records
that:
On the ocean beach one might be the inhabitant of
another world, composed of sand, sea, spume, and
giant whale bones. The scattered bones of blue
whales lie here and there along the beach, for this is
a graveyard where the great circumpolar current
impinges upon the shores of Australia and casts up
its burden of flotsam.'*
According to the Berndts, Kondilindjarung is in
the Kondilindjera descent group territory, believed
to be an offshoot of the Ramindjerar, but who
spoke Tangani instead. The relationship between
the Kondilindjera and the Latalindjera descent
group described by Tindale above is uncertain."
The presence of the Kondilindjera on the south
eastern side of the Murray Mouth may well have
been the result of a post-European adjustment in
territory, as Taplin (1874 [1879: 2]; 1879: 34)
recorded the Kondarlinyeri as a ‘clan’ based on
the north western side of the Mouth.
Kondarlinyeri was said to mean ‘belonging to
whales’ (Taplin 1879-84: 98). Brown (1918: 252)
provided evidence that suggests that there were no
‘Kandarlinyeri’. He stated ‘I was told by the
natives that Kondarlinderi (the place of the
whales) is merely the name of a part of the
country occupied by Pankinderar clan, and that
there is no clan of this name (Brown 1918: 252).’
During his fieldwork, Brown (1918: 240)
considered it too late to obtain detailed
information on the totemism of the Yaraldi
people. Nevertheless he claimed:
The men and women of a clan might eat, and did
eat, their totem, if it were edible, but they were
careful to destroy all the remains (bones etc.), lest
they should fall into the hands of an enemy and be
used for evil magic. Some part of the totemic animal
was in some instances used as a badge of the clan.
Thus the Liwurinderar used to carry pelican skins
on their spears when they went out to fight (Brown
1918: 241).
‘0 See Tindale (1931-34 (1); 252-253) for notes of ‘Kondoli Tungar or Whale Song of the Ramindjeri tribe at Encounter Bay, Song 14’.
"' Tindale inscribes a draft typescript version of his paper with ‘much of the song data given verbatim as dictated by Milerum’. Here it is stated that
the whales were swimming in ‘white sand water’. Other details include that the whales were ‘mother’ and ‘son’ and that whale ‘slime’ or oil was
required to rub on their bodies with red ochre as a base for poison (copy in E. H. Davies papers, AA309, Accession no.1, Anthropology Archives,
S.A. Museum).
"Tindale, The Advertiser newspaper, 14 May 1936. The symbolic importance of whales may be reflected in the rock art of the Sydney area, which
depicts people inside whales. Stanbury & Clegg (1990: 22-23) suggest that this might be explained by the eastern seaboard practice of sick people
lying inside the body of a stranded whale.
"Tindale (‘Milerum’ manuscript, folder 1, draft A. Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum).
4 Tindale, The Advertiser newspaper, 12 May 1936.
'S Tindale (Lower Murray Totems Chart, miscellaneous papers, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum) links together the descent groups of
Kondolinyeri (Taplin 1874 [1879]), Kondarlinyeri (Taplin 1879), Kandarl-inyeri (Howitt 1904), and Karagarindjeri [equivalent to Kondolindjeri]
(Tindale ms). He does not list the Latalindjera.
22 P. A. CLARKE
This account is consistent with Meyer’s claim
that the nga:tji was a ‘friend’, ‘countryman’ or
‘protector’ (Meyer 1843: 86; 1846 [1879: 198])
and Taplin’s definition of it as a ‘tribal symbol’ or
‘tutelary genius’ (Taplin 1874 [1879: 1, 63-64,
134]). The Berndts also record that some people
were able to eat their nga:tji. Regarded as the
flesh of the Kondilindjera, the members of this
Lower Murray group alone could make the first
cut on a beached whale carcass (Berndt & Berndt
1993: 81, 103, 320, 326-327, 342, 565). Other
groups would wait until they had eaten.'® The
spirit of Kondoli departed through
Kondilindjarung, leaving its meat for its
‘brothers’. In this area, Aboriginal people
possessed a pre-European system giving certain
groups rights and privileges to the resources of
the sea (see Peterson & Rigsby 1998).
The Kondilindjera responded to a whale
stranding by sending messengers with invitations
to neighbouring groups to come in for a feast on
whale blubber, pailpuli, and meat, mami."
Normally, the coastal districts were sparsely
populated during the wintertime (Tindale 1938: 21;
1974: 61-62; Clarke 1994: 182-183). The cutting
of the flesh and blubber was performed with flint
knives, maki. Aboriginal people cooked the fat
before it was eaten and the oil was rubbed on their
bodies for protection against the weather. The
witjeri, leaves of the pigface (Carpobrotus rossi),
were used as a relish with the meat. Ceremonies
were held during the nights of the feast. The site of
the stranding was not left until all the blubber was
eaten. Aboriginal people used the ear bones as
drinking containers and water storage vessels.'*
Aboriginal midden material collected from Moana,
a sand dune area near the mouth of Pedlar Creek
south of Adelaide, by Tindale in the 1920s contains
sperm whale teeth and dolphin vertebrae.'? This
suggests that Aboriginal people had eaten beached
whales and dolphins. Also, in the Rivoli Bay area,
south of Encounter Bay, whales were also
sometimes stranded. Aboriginal people called this
place Weirintjam or Wilitjam, which Tindale
claimed meant ‘place of whales’ from the
Potaruwutj word ‘weirintj’, a whale.”” It was a
place noted by Tindale’s informants for the whales
that became stranded there, providing big feasts for
the local people.
It is unlikely that Aboriginal people in South
Australia were able to use their watercraft, built
for calm water conditions, in killing small
whales.?! For marine animals stuck in shallow
water or stranded on land, killing was a more
straightforward task. Nevertheless, hunting across
the open sea was limited. For instance, Ramindjeri
people swam or travelled on rafts to West Island,
which is less than a kilometre off the coast south
west of Victor Harbor, to kill sea lions (Neophoca
cinerea) and fur seals (Arctocephalus fosteri)
(Tindale 1941: 241). They also travelled to Pullen
Island on rafts in calm weather for sealing.”” Most
distant islands, such as Kangaroo Island, were
places beyond the range of Aboriginal hunters
immediately prior to European settlement (Clarke
1996, 1998). There is no evidence to suggest that
Aboriginal people actively hunted whales or
dolphins.
WHALES IN ABORIGINAL MYTHOLOGY
The earliest written account of whale mythology
in South Australia was by C. Teichelmann in
1840, presumably recounted by Aboriginal people
who lived in the Adelaide area (see Amery 1998:
219, 224). He records:
When the lark and the whale were men, they fought
against each other. The lark speared the whale twice
in the neck. The whale, finding itself sorely
wounded, made its escape, jumped from pain into
the sea, became a whale and spouted through the
two wounds water to heal them; but in vain, till this
day.
‘6 Bates (1985: 197-198) records that the mammang borungur or whale totem people of Cape Leewin in the South West of Western Australia also ate
the flesh of stranded whales, in spite of the fact that this was not the practice of people from other totems.
7 Wyatt (1879: 170) claimed that Encounter Bay people also called whale blubber ‘kondolle’.
South Australian Museum specimen A49445; container made from a whale ear bone, collected from Pelican Point on the Coorong, donated by Mrs
O. T. Cleggett, 1940s.
© Ross (1984; 19-41) provides an overview of the archaeological investigations based at Moana. This material would be less than 6,000 years before
present, when the coastline of present-day Adelaide was largely formed. The sperm whale teeth found in Moana ‘Site C’ may have come from a
multiple stranding, as they are from at least two individuals, one young and one old specimen (C. Kemper, pers. com.).
20 _N. B. Tindale (Geographic Place Names Cards & Potaruwutj Vocabulary Cards, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum), Tindale thought that the
variation in the place name, Wilitjam, is probably relatively modern.
In contrast, Aboriginal hunters in northern Australia had more access to the sea through their use of dugouts and outriggers gained through contact
with Macassans and Torres Strait Islanders, For a description of their watercraft, see Haddon (1913), Tindale (1926: 103-112) & Baker (1988).
2 See also Tindale (Wunindjeri clan entry in ‘Clan Data’ folder in ‘Milerum’ manuscripts, stage 2 Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum).
23 South Australian Colonist newspaper, 7 July 1840,
SIGNIFICANCE OF WHALES 23
The same corpus of whale mythology appears
to have been shared by the Adelaide and
Encounter Bay peoples, perhaps reflecting
Aboriginal movements around the time of
European settlement in the early nineteenth
century. In a Ramindjeri account of the myth,
whales are connected with the origin of fire
(Meyer 1879: 202-204). Here, it was believed that
once long ago, all the Ramindjeri people gathered
to dance at Mootaparinga (Cut Hill, along
Hindmarsh River).** They did not have a fire, so
they had to dance all day and it was hot. Their
perspiration dripped down and became the large
ponds there, and hills and valleys formed through
the buckling of the ground caused by the stamping
of their feet. Eventually, they sent for Kondoli, a
large and powerful man who possessed fire. He
came, but hid his fire. This made the Ramindjeri
angry. Another Ancestor, Riballi, threw a spear at
Kondoli, hitting him in the neck.** The commotion
this caused transformed most of the people there
into different animals, such as fish and birds.
Kondoli himself rushed into the sea and ever after
blew water out of his wound. Riballi took
Kondoli’s fire and placed it in a grasstree
(Xanthorrhoea species), where it can be removed
by using the dried flower stems as fire-sticks.°
The series of accounts recorded by Tindale in
the twentieth century provide details that were not
part of Meyer’s account. In May 1934, Tindale
received a Ramindjeri version of the Kondoli
myth from Frank Blackmoor (Tindale 1930-52:
161-165; 1934-37: 181-184).?” Here, Kondoli
was a big man who possessed fire that fell from
his body as he danced. He came to participate at a
Ramindjeri ceremony. Kuroldambal the Owl
argued with Krilbalil (= Krilbali) the Lark about
who was to spear Kondoli to get the fire.
Kuroldambal, who had large eyes, wanted
Krilbalil’s spear to use, as his eyes were too small
to see properly. But when the dancing was close
enough, Krilbalil grabbed his spear and struck
Kondoli at the back of the head, making the fire
fall out. Krilbalil grabbed the fire and placed it
amongst grasstrees, causing the scrub to burn.
People now had access to fire. Kondoli dived into
the ground, eventually coming out and going into
the sea.
Tindale recorded a version of the ‘Story of
Kondoli’ from Milerum, a Tangani speaker, in
May 1936 (Tindale 1934-37 vol.2: 232-235). In
this account a ‘tribe’ that was part Mereldi
(Murray River people), part Ramindjeri and
Yoltindjeri (= Joltindjeri) planned to have a
molkaldi type ceremony at which all participants
would perform. Messengers were sent out in all
directions and people gathered at Mutabaringga
(= Mootaparinga), a site on the largest bend of the
Hindmarsh River. The dancing area was at a flat
on top of a range that had a depression. Kondoli,
who was a big man, was camped at Brown Hill.
He carried the flint with which fire could be
made.** A ‘river man’ (Murray River person)
called Ratunangi, the Robin Redbreast Bird, was
there. Seven or eight Teiwuri (Brown Treecreeper)
women from a local group, who greatly desired
Ratunangi, grabbed him.” Relatives among the
‘river people’ grabbed their weapons and a fight
with spears and waddies (clubs) took place.
Firesticks were also thrown through the air.
To escape the fight, Kondoli fled towards the
sea down Hindmarsh Valley, carrying his flint. He
also had pieces of granite, which he dropped as
boulders along the creek. At the site of Gay
Bridge, Port Elliot (Kandeining) he took a boulder
out into the sea. After returning and heading a
little further inland he rested before diving into
the sea at Kantjoar, where there is a swamp.”
pL
26
Colonists used Mootaparinga (or Murtaparri) in the 1830s as the name for the mouth of Hindmarsh River at Encounter Bay (Wade cited Gouger
1838: 25; Mann cited Gouger 1838: 39, 42; Teichelmann & Schiirmann 1840 2: 75). In the Adelaide language Mootaparinga reputedly means
‘brackish water’ (Robinson 1975; 44). If so, then it appears to be a term from a language north west of the Lower Murray. Adelaide terms, such as
murta [‘excrements of animals’), parri [‘river’] and -ngga [grammatical ‘in’] (Teichelmann & Schiirmann 1840 1: 22; pt 2: 25, 38, 76) appear
relevant, possibly translating as ‘animal manure water, place of’. Tindale (‘Myths’ folder in ‘Milerum’ manuscript collection, Anthropology
Archives, S.A. Museum) says ‘Mutabaringga’ is known by Europeans as Cut Hill.
The ‘Riballi’ of Meyer is probably his rendering of ‘Krilbali’, the brown skylark.
The use of fire is a major element of the Waiyungari mythology (Clarke 1999b). Bell (1989: 321-322, 427) speculates that whales are of special
significance to Aboriginal women due to the link with fire and through associating the protective nature of whales over their calves with human
child-care responsibilities.
Yaraldi man, Mark Wilson (Thalrum or Thralrum), wrote the original text using conventional mission script. Tindale then annotated it by working
directly with Frank Blackmoor, a Yaraldi man of the Piltindjeri descent group. Although Tindale refers to the Skylark as ‘Krilbalil’, 1 prefer the
form ‘Krilbali’, as written by other authors and as recognised by some contemporary Ngarrindjeri people (see foot note 44).
The flints were struck whilst being held in a dry pad of fungus, kumpalatingi (Mountford & Berndt 1941: 342-344).
Tindale (1934-37; 233) records that as a result of what happened then, ‘today you always see him [Ratunangi, Robin Redbreast] with seven or
eight wives’,
According to Tindale (Geographic Place Names Cards, Anthropology Archives, South Australian Museum), Kantjoar is a site in the Ngurunderi
myth were he urinated (kaindji =: urine).
24
From here, Kondoli went west along the shore,
sometimes walking and other times swimming in
water for safety. He walked between Granite
Island and the shore, looking back to see if the
others were following him. When Kondoli
reached Wunangg, the mouth of the Inman River,
he saw his friend Yamakawi rushing down the
Inman towards him.*! The ‘wild men’ were
chasing Yamakawi for his firestick, made of
ngalaji (dried flower stem of the grasstree), that
he carried. Although Kondoli had eluded his first
pursuers, he had to flee again, this time with
Yamakawi. Kondoli went a little way into the sea
and turned into a whale. There is a reef there
today and the spray that rises with the waves is
the whale spout, which represents smoke.
Yamakawi went into the sea at Narailkang, near
Waitpinga, and turned into a shark with big
teeth.*? For some time, people on the land had no
fire as Yamakawi had taken away the ngalaji.
Kondoli did not go far away as he had left
something back at his camp. The people ‘sang’
(charmed) him into the shore, where they jumped
on him and took his flint so that they could make
fire. They also grabbed Yamakawi’s firestick,
which had been used as a back fin.
In another of Tindale’s records, Kondoli the
Whale man chased the Shark man who had stolen
Kondoli’s fire-making equipment, wintjimi,
comprised of flint and pyrites.*7 This occurred at
Spring Mount, which was called Mutabaringga,
said to mean ‘sacred magic doctor’s place’. The
hill represents Kondoli, who later became a whale.
A big hole at the summit was said to be the ‘blow
hole’ of the whale. Kondoli chased the Shark man
to Brown Hill, called Kondolanangg.** From here
Kondoli in anger rushed towards the sea in pursuit
of the thief. Kondoli was transformed into a whale
P. A. CLARKE
at Elliot Beach, called Kandeining, which was
translated by Tindale’s informants as ‘from
here’.*> The Shark man was transformed into the
whale’s enemy, the shark, who retains the fire
flints as teeth in his mouth. Tindale linked this
account to the name of the south western spur of
the Brown Hill, Nangge-we:ke, which he claimed
means the ‘stolen sun’, referring to the stealing of
fire.*° In what appears to be a related account,
Tindale stated:
One of the myths of the area tells how there was
contention between a man of the whale totem and
another, the shark, for possession of the fire flints,
without which the whale could not use his pyrites.
At the climax of the story the men became animals
and the shark fled taking with him the flint stones
which were transmuted into his teeth.*”
These versions place emphasis on the origin of
fire relating to conflict between Ancestors,
involving the Whale and Shark.
Tindale recorded other elements of the ‘Fire
myth’ in the Warki language of the Goolwa area.
Mutabaringga or Cut Hill was one of the homes
of the whale man, Kondoli.*® According to
Tindale it was derived from muturi (sacred), bari
(river) and -ingga (at).*? Kondolinggara or Mount
Jagged was where Karilbali (= Krilbali) fought
with Kondoli for the possession of fire, wounding
him. The place-name was reputedly derived from
kondoli (whale) and nggaran (to assault or
wound).*° Kondolanang (= Kondolanangg or
Brown Hill), where Kondoli emerged from the
ground, was said to mean ‘refuge of whales’,
derived from kondoli (whale) and nangare (refuge
or shelter).41 In another version, Kondoli, after
being wounded by Karilbali:
set fire to the country. Hiding first at this place
[Kondolanang] he [Kondoli] fled to Kandeining
31 According to Tindale (1934-37: 232-233), Yamakawi was related to Kondoli, their hunting grounds adjoined. The quartz stones that Yamakawi
left behind when he fled were used for making the jags on spears. Some of these were given to Yamakawi, after he became a shark, for his use as
teeth (Tindale 1934-37: 234). Tindale writes ‘Yamakawi' as ‘Jamakawi'’.
Tindale (‘Myths’ folder in ‘Milerum’ manuscript collection, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum) claims that Yamakawi was the White Pointer
Shark being who lived at Inman Hill.
Tindale (Geographic Place Names Cards & ‘Milerum’ manuscript, stage A, no.3. Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum). This is presumably a
Ramindjeri version of the myth. Tindale claims that Mootaparinga is erroneously ascribed to Hindmarsh River by Cockburn (1908: 58).
See also Tindale (Wunindjeri clan entry in ‘Clan Data’ folder in ‘Milerum’ manuscripts, stage 2. Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum).
N.B. Tindale (Geographic Place Names Cards, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum). Informants not named.
This place name is the Nangawooka of Tite, which Tindale (Geographic Place Names Cards, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum) claims
Cockburn (1908: 63-64]) incorrectly translates as ‘place of springs’. Informants not named. See also Tindale (Wunindjeri clan entry in ‘Clan Data’
folder in ‘Milerum' manuscripts, stage 2, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum),
N. B. Tindale (no date) ‘Strike-a-lights, Fire Flints’. Tindale collection, miscellaneous papers, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum.
Data recorded by Tindale (‘Aboriginal Placename Cards’, Warki Language, AA338, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum) from the Yaraldi
informant, Albert Karlowan (Karloan) and the Tangani informant, Clarence Long (Milerum).
The derivation of ‘muturi’ (sacred) here seems less likely than as ‘murta’ (animal excrement) [see footnote 23].
Data recorded by Tindale (‘Aboriginal Placename Cards’, Warki Language, AA338, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum). Informants not named.
Data recorded by Tindale (‘Aboriginal Placename Cards’, Warki Language, AA338, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum) from the Yaraldi
informant, Mark Wilson (Thalrum or Thralrum) and the Tangani informant, Clarence Long (Milerum).
SIGNIFICANCE OF WHALES 25
where he entered the sea as a whale. There a shark
being stole his fire flints. A wide spread story.”
After entering the sea, the fire flints were then
stolen by Ngarakkani (= Ngarankani) the Shark
being and the property of fire making was
transferred to grasstrees and wood.*?
In 1934 Tindale recorded an account, ‘Story of
the Stealing of Fire by the Whale’ from Mark
Wilson in the Yaraldi language.“ Here, all the
birds and animals, who were then human, met for
a ceremony at Mutabaringga. Only Kondoli the
Whale possessed fire; he guarded it jealously.
Krilbali the Lark and another unnamed bird
quarrelled over who should steal it. Kondoli was
speared in the head by Krilbali and leaped into a
cave on the hill before the fire could be taken
from him. The Whale emerged in the deep water
at Victor Harbor that is close to the beach and
extends to Granite Island. The steam coming from
Kondoli’s wound was like that coming out of an
earth cooking-oven, showing that there was fire
inside. The whale still blows its steam out and
stranded whales are quite hot, compared with
other marine animals which are cold. In the sea,
the Shark stole fire from the Whale and gave it to
the birds, who were unable to control it and set
fire to the country. The raging fire entered the
trees, which means that they would now readily
burn if set alight. Fire also entered the flints on
the ground. Many of the birds got burnt, such as
Tuta the Scarlet Robin being who had his breast
burnt bright red. After the fire died, people
discovered how to make fire from splitting
grasstree sticks and rubbing them together and
also by striking flints against ironstone pieces.
The anthropologists, Ronald and Catherine
Berndt, also provided a record of the Kondoli
mythology in the Encounter Bay district (Berndt
& Berndt 1993: 16, 118, 235-236, 341-342, 450—-
451).4° The Hindmarsh River area at Victor
Harbor is associated with the Whale Ancestor and
the origin of making fire with flints, maki. The
flints were obtained from the Ramindjeri hills
people. In the Berndts’ version, many people
attended a dance meeting held at Kondilinar,
which is inland. When Kondoli the Whale
Ancestor danced, sparks came from inside him,
which excited the onlookers who were at that time
without fire. Krilbali the Brown Skylark and
Retjurukuru the Wagtail planned to spear Kondoli
whilst he was dancing, to get his fire. Krilbali
speared him deep in the back of his neck. Then
Krilbali grabbed some of the fire that gushed out
of the wound and fled with it. The people
assembled there laughed, but Kondoli, Ngarankani
(Shark), Mulori (Stingray) and Pungari (Seal)
jumped into the water and came out at Latang,
near the coast at the mouth of Hindmarsh River.”
The Berndts (1993: 311) stated that Latang meant
‘place of spearing’.*7 The Whale stayed at
Balgolin (Pultung, Victor Harbor).
One of the Berndt’s chief informants for the
Kondoli mythology was the Yaraldi speaker,
Albert Karloan, from the Manangka descent
group. He told the Berndts that the spear thrown
at the Whale Ancestor had entered the back of the
neck, penetrating as far as the jaw. It was the jaw
that produced the sparks. Karloan claimed that
when the Whale was speared, the fire that fell on
the ground at Kondilinar turned to flints, maki,
which could be used to make fire. Flints could be
also found where the Skylark had dropped them
whilst running all over the country. The method
of the transference of the fire from the Whale
Ancestor to humanity is different from Meyer’s
earlier account, when a fire-stick made from a
grasstree flower stem was used.
The Mountford and Roberts (1969: 40-41)
version has details that appear as poetic
adjustments to the main recordings. Fire was
needed here because the dancers required light to
dance at night. The large and powerful Kondoli
was the sole owner, but hid the fire. After Kondoli
was speared, the people at the ceremony were
transformed into animals, such as kangaroos,
possums, birds and fish. Kondoli, as the largest
man, became the largest animal, the whale.
Ngarrindjeri writer, David Unaipon, wrote a story
“Data recorded by Tindale (‘Aboriginal Placename Cards’, Warki Language, AA338, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum). Informants not named.
The derivation of Karilbali is here and on other cards recorded as ‘magpie-lark being’ instead of ‘lark’, but this clearly an error. See end note 44.
“Data recorded by Tindale (‘Aboriginal Placename Cards’, Warki Language, AA338, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum). Informants not named.
“ Tindale (1930-52: 48, 91, 272-273). In this account, Tindale incorrectly identifies Krilbali as the magpie lark (Grallina cyanoleuca). From other
sources, including contemporary Aboriginal informants, this term refers to the skylark (Alauda arvensis) (Brown 1918: 242; Berndt & Berndt 1993:
235-236, 311, 450-451, 461-462).
4S The Berndts write ‘Kondoli’ as ‘Kondili’.
“* Many of these Ancestors became ngavtji of Ramindjeri clans surrounding Victor Harbor (Berndt & Berndt 1993: 311). Ngarankani, shark, was the
nga:tji of the Ngarakerindjera descent group, based at King Point. In the Tjirbruki mythology he was speared and become the gummy shark
(Tindale 1987: 9). Krilbali, brown skylark, was the nga:tji of Krilbalindjera based near Kondilinar. Pangari, seal, was the nga:tji of the
Ratalwerindjera at Middleton.
“7 Berndts (1993: 311) claimed that Latang was equivalent to ‘Yalla-doola’ as listed by Wyatt (1879: 179).
26 P. A. CLARKE
about Wondangar the Whale and Goon na Ghun
the Starfish Ancestors.*® Although some
Ngarrindjeri words are used in the text, the
inclusion of a lyrebird, which is a species not
found in South Australia, suggests it was intended
as a generalised eastern states account.
There are whale mythologies in other parts of
southern South Australia that bear some
resemblance to the Kondoli myth. The existence
of the Whale Ancestor as a land-based person
appears widespread. Schurmann recorded in the
Adelaide Plains region that:
Nganno — travelled far and wide, seeking the
murderers of his son, Gurltatakko, and while
travelling named the country as we know it today.
After killing the murderers he went home but his
tribesmen on seeing him panicked and ran in fear
into the sea where they were transformed into sea
creatures. He told them not to do it but they
responded ‘I am a shark’, ‘I am a whale’ etc.
Nganno turned himself into a sea monster at the end
(Schurmann Journals, 21 August 1839).
It is interesting to note that many of the terms
and place-names used in the Lower Murray
versions above are derived from the Aboriginal
vocabulary of Adelaide. In the Tjirbruki
mythology of Gulf St Vincent and western
Encounter Bay, some of the Ancestors ran into the
sea to become species of shark (Tindale 1987: 9).
The language used in this account recorded by
Tindale is a mixture of Adelaide and Lower
Murray vocabulary.
Stealing the ability to make fire is a common
theme in the mythology of Aboriginal Australia.
There are other accounts that appear structurally
similar to the Kondoli myths discussed above, but
do not involve whales as one of the primary
Ancestors. For example, in a version of a Western
Desert myth recorded by Tindale, the Turkey
Bustard Ancestor kept fire to himself and fled
south towards the Southern Ocean at Eucla to
place the flints under the water.” The Hawk Men
rescued the flints, which are accessible today only
at low tide on calm days. Similarly, Smith (1880:
18-20) records that the Booandik people between
Mount Gambier and MacDonnell Bay in the
South East of South Australia believed that fire
was once the sole property of Mar the Cockatoo,
and was hidden on his head. At a meeting, people
argued over how to find out more about Mar’s
fire. Several people attempted to spy on Mar
making the fire. As a result, Tatkanna the Robin
Red Breast had his chest singed red from the heat
of Mar’s fire. When fire was at last caught in a
grasstree stick, it spread to the grass and dry
underwood where it started a bushfire. Mar rushed
to where the others were camped and a fight
started. One of those there, a large man named
Kounterbull, received a deep spear wound in the
back of his neck. He rushed into the sea where, as
a whale, he was afterwards to be seen spouting
water from his wound. In Western Victoria,
Crows had fire and the Fairy Wren and Hawk
stole it (Dawson 1881: 54). In the West Coast
district of South Australia, Aboriginal people
possibly perceived whales as having a more
sinister character. In the Mirniny language, whales
were called muburn kailgaburdi, with muburn (or
moburn) recorded as ‘devil’.*° Tindale claimed
that there ‘are several versions of the [fire] story
extending as far to the west as Perth and to the
Tanganekald on the Coorong.’*! He cites the
record of Grey (1839: 76) from the South West of
Western Australia that lists maad-jit-teeyl as a
‘magic stone’ of the shark. Tindale also provided
an account from the Murray Basin where a small
species of hawk stole an ember from the shark as
he was entering the sea and placed it for safe
keeping in a grasstree.*? The similarity of the
events in widespread accounts of this myth, along
with the variety of language chosen by the
informants to communicate them, make it difficult
to determine the origin and range of the whale
myths.
The Kondoli mythology of the Lower Murray
has important cultural insights into both methods
of fire-making. The use of fire-sticks in what is
referred to as the rotation method is widespread
across Australia. Tindale describes this process in
the southern regions:
Fire making is practised using a dry grasstree flower
stalk, the ‘male’, twirled into a split section of the
same stalk, in which usually a notch has been cut.
This is the ‘female’. Tinder is placed below the
“ Unaipon, no date (Davis et al. 1990: 33-52).
“ —N.B, Tindale (no date) ‘Strike-a-lights, Fire Flints’. Tindale collection, miscellaneous papers, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum.
so D. M. Bates, ‘Native Vocabulary, Eucla District’, Barr Smith Library, University of Adelaide (box XII, 2A 4-5). According to Bates the shark
appears to have been called by a related term, kailga-kailga. Similarly, the porpoise was kailga-ailga and the trapdoor spider was kailga wurdi.
51 Data recorded by Tindale (‘Aboriginal Placename Cards’, Warki Language, AA338, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum). The informants are not
named. Tindale (1930-52: 273) lists Grey 1839 as a record relating to the Kondoli fire myth.
%2_N.B. Tindale (no date) ‘Strike-a-lights, Fire Flints’. Tindale collection, miscellaneous papers, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum.
SIGNIFICANCE OF WHALES 27
notch which supplements the hot powdered pith
engendered by the rotary process. When a spark
appears it is deftly transferred to a ball of dry, teased
grass or other easily ignitable matter,~
In the same reference, Tindale added that fine
stone grit was sometimes placed in the female part
of the apparatus to help fire-making by increasing
friction. The use of percussion methods to make
fire, generally by striking flint, together with
‘ironstone’ or iron pyrites, has been recorded in
some parts of South Australia. In the Coorong
region, Tindale’s Tangani informant, Milerum,
told him that flint, marti, was used for fire-making
and came by way of trade from south of Cape
Jaffa. The flint was used by striking it across
iron pyrites, baruke, that came from the Mount
Lofty Ranges at a place called Whale Hill, just to
the north of the western boundary of the Tangani
speakers. Powdered sun dried kangaroo dung,
fungus, bark and sandalwood scrapings were used
as tinder (narn) and kept wrapped in possum fur.
Although this method of fire-making was rarely
recorded, Charles P. Mountford and Ronald M.
Berndt (1941: 343-344) use the Karloan version
of the Kondoli myth as proof that the percussion
method existed in Australia before Europeans
arrived. The Tjirbruki mythology of the Adelaide
plains also mentions the use of iron pyrites in
making fire (Tindale 1987).
EUROPEAN SETTLEMENT
In the first few months of the official British
settlement of South Australia in 1836, Encounter
Bay came under scrutiny as a possible site for the
capital of South Australia. The large harbour and
the proximity of a supposed navigable entrance to
the Murray River were major factors in its favour.
Nevertheless, it was Encounter Bay’s suitability
for whaling activities that started settlement there.
Captain John Hart, who was familiar with the
South Australian coast through his whaling and
sealing activities during the early 1830s, was
consulted by the South Australian Colonisation
Commissioners in London (Blacket 1911: 431).%
Whaling was the first official industry in the
Colony of South Australia. Two ‘shore’ whaling
stations were set up in Encounter Bay in 1837 -—a
group from Sydney headed by Captain
Blenkinsopp and the other controlled by the South
Australia Company.*° The former was situated at
Police Point (now Victor Harbor), and the latter at
the foot of the ridge connecting Rosetta Head
(now The Bluff) with the hills. Other stations were
later set up at The Nob (now Port Elliot) and on
Granite Island. In the case of the whaling
establishments at Police Point and Granite Island,
these were considered to be of ‘lesser importance’
and soon abandoned (Newland 1921: 16).
Maritime archaeological and historical studies
have produced a list of whaling stations across the
coast line of South Australia (Angas 1847a, text
for plate XVI; Hosking 1973, legend: 2;
Kostoglou & McCarthy 1991, Table 1, p.67).
There were large whaling stations situated in
Encounter Bay at Rosetta Head (1837 to 1855)
and Freeman Nob (about 1840). On Kangaroo
Island there were establishments at Hog Bay
(1841 to 1844) and D’Estrees Bay (1843 to 1844).
There were also smaller whaling stations at the
mouth of the Onkaparinga River (from 1841 to
about 1843) and at Fishery Cove near Cape Jervis
(from 1842 to the early 1850s). Several
establishments were present on the West Coast of
South Australia at Thistle Island (1838 to 1839),
Fowler Bay (1840s), Saint Peter Island (1840s),
Streaky Bay (1843 to 1846) and Trial Bay (1845).
In the South East of South Australia, there was
the Rivoli Bay Station (1830s intermittently to the
1880s).
Two species of whale were commercially
hunted in southern South Australia, the sperm or
cachalot whale (Physeter macrocephalus) and the
southern right whale (Eubalaena australis).*’
There were two distinct seasons for European
whaling, referred to as ‘in-shore’ and ‘off-shore’.
The ‘in-shore season’ was during winter, with the
southern right whales caught as they travelled
along the coast of south eastern Australia from
Tasmania (Fig. 1). This was known as ‘bay
whaling’. The ‘off-shore season’ aimed to catch
*° _N. B. Tindale (no date) ‘Strike-a-lights, Fire Flints’. Tindale collection, miscellaneous papers, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum.
‘4 N, B. Tindale (no date) ‘Strike-a-lights, Fire Flints’. Tindale collection, miscellaneous papers, Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum.
5° In 1831, Captain Hart left a sealer at Baudin Rocks in the South East of South Australia (Kostoglou & McCarthy 1991: 63). After official British
settlement in 1836, Hart became a successful merchant and politician in South Australia. He was Premier of the colony on three occasions (Blacket
1911: 431-432).
‘¢ ‘Report on Whaling in South Australia’ (1841 [reprinted in Proceedings of the Royal Geographical Society of Australasia, South Australian
Branch, 1921: 15—20]) and Cameron (1979: 23). Newland (1936) gives a fictional account of whaling in the region in ‘Paving the Way.’
For descriptions of South Australian whaling practices refer to ‘Report on Whaling in South Australia’ (1841 [1921]), Hosking (1973, explanatory
note: 1), Glover & Ling (1976), Whitelock (1985; 61, 64), Kostoglou & McCarthy (1991: 1-2) and Judd et al (1992: 13-14).
P. A. CLARKE
28
‘gTeYM IYBII UJOYINOS oY} JO sajNoI UONRIZTUL JoWUIM ZIQISSOd ey “| AUNOI
poy ulpneg \ a SWY8Z = WI]
\ .
_ ayes
\ ‘Ss
\ SS
\ SS
\ se N
uea2Q UJaYINOS
BINSUIYIdg DYIOA
p
Binsuluad 243
nN
SIGNIFICANCE OF WHALES 29
whales as they were returning from the west about
320 kilometres off the coast beyond the
continental shelf. Sperm whales were generally
only caught offshore, although, as with other
whale species, they occasionally stranded along
the coast. The ‘off-shore’ whaling was more
expensive than ‘bay whaling’, as deep-sea
activities required bigger boats. Whitelock (1985:
63) states that from 1836 to the end of 1840, 536
barrels of southern right whale oil, 158 barrels of
sperm oil, and 655 bundles of whale bone were
exported from Encounter Bay to London via
Hobart.
Impact OF WHALING Upon ABORIGINAL PEOPLE
European whalers operating in South Australian
waters utilised Aboriginal labour, being cheaply
available when required (see Clarke 1996, 1998).
For instance, it was reported in an Adelaide
newspaper in 1839 that:
We are rejoiced to hear that the fishery at Encounter
Bay is proceeding most prosperously, nearly 300
tons of oil having been already obtained. A fact
connected with it has been communicated to us
which is of an interesting and not unimportant
nature. It appears that a boat is employed in the
fishery which is entirely manned with natives. They
take their part in the occupation equally with the
white men, and are found to be not less expert than
they. If the aboriginal inhabitants are competent to
this laborious species of employment, what should
prevent them being rendered efficient in many other
paths of industry.*8
Furthermore, in 1846 Aboriginal people
manned a boat run by Barton at Encounter Bay.
In the 1830s, the Kangaroo Island sealers knew an
elderly Aboriginal man called Kondoy (Condoy),
who was described as being a ‘tribal chief? and
apparently lived at Cape Jervis. It is possible that
this man’s name referred to the whale. Since
Kondoy was a senior member of his descent
group, he may have taken on the identity of their
main nga:tji, a whale. The sealers were part of a
seafaring population originating in various
Northern Hemisphere and Pacific countries. They
and their Aboriginal wives were engaged in
various enterprises that were reliant on passing
vessels, such as gathering salt, growing vegetables
and the hunting wallabies, kangaroos and seals
for their skins. On the frontier, the whalers and
sealers were opportunistic. They were also the
first direct contact that Aboriginal people had with
Europeans. For example, in May or June 1838,
whalers on the Elizabeth were blown ashore at the
north end of Rivoli Bay (Stewart n.d. [1977: 78-
79, 89]). They set up a station there, which
attracted Aboriginal people looking for food. On
at least one occasion these whalers rowed out in a
boat to Penguin Rock with Aboriginal women,
who caught for them the fat birds after which the
islet was named. Similarly, Davies (cited Tindale
1986: 235) recorded a song in the Wirangu
language that records the careening of a whaling
boat at Denial Bay in the West Coast of South
Australia.
From the outset, the whaling station at
Encounter Bay attracted large numbers of
Aboriginal people. Gouger (1838: 53) claims that
the establishment of the whale fishery at
Encounter Bay had made this area a favourite
residence of Aboriginal people during the whaling
season (presumably referring to the winter time).
Penney noted this seasonal movement in
November 1840, when he observed Aboriginal
people leaving Encounter Bay and heading east.
Penney reports:
I found the natives going or preparing to go to the
Lower Murray. The natives of the Lower Murray
tribes usually return at the end of the Whaling
season, accompanied by some of the Encounter Bay
tribe, to their stations on this river ...°!
Leigh (1839: 163-164) describes how upon the
capture of a whale, the local Aboriginal people
came to the stations for feasts. A painting by
George French Angas shows whalebones being
used as the framework of an Aboriginal hut at the
Encounter Bay whaling stations (Fig. 2). Cameron
(1979: 4) suggests that the whalers encouraged
local Aboriginal people to camp around the
whaling station by distributing whale-meat and
rum, so that the white men had access to
Aboriginal women. In the 1840s, Richard Penney
and David Wark treated Aboriginal people
ise
The Southern Australian newspaper, 1 August 1839.
The South Australian Register newspaper, 8 August 1846. Aboriginal involvement in the whaling industry is noted elsewhere in Australia during
the 1840s, with Aboriginal whalers present at Twofold Bay in southern New South Wales (Davidson & Davidson 1988: 25-34).
© See Thomas (1925: 45-46) and Clarke (1998; 39). Also see The Advertiser newspaper, 27 December 1886. An elderly Aboriginal man named
‘Konday’ is a character in Cawthome’s ‘Kangaroo Islanders’ (Cawthome 1854 [1926: 110-111)).
*! Transcript of a letter from Penney to the Governor of South Australia, 7 January 1841. (Group 787; 1841, no.8 — AA309, Stirling collection,
Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum),
30 P, A. CLARKE
FIGURE 2. Aboriginal people living in camps on the edge of the Encounter Bay whaling stations used whale bones
to make their shelters (G. French Angas watercolour, 1844 [lithograph version published in Angas 1847b, plate
LV]I)).
suffering from small pox and venereal diseases at
Encounter Bay (Jenkin 1979: 46-49). Penney was
concerned about the ill treatment of Aboriginal
people by whalers. Of the Encounter Bay people,
he said:
There are many individuals of this tribe, who have
been content, whilst there was any employment, to
live for months at the fisheries, and to do the work
of whalers; and one was, the last season, rated
amongst the crew of the chief headsman, Thomas,
being considered as a good a hand as many of the
white people.
The German missionary, Heinrich A.E. Meyer,
operated a school for Aboriginal people near the
whaling station. The Lower Murray people living
there were among the colony’s first Aboriginal
‘fringe dwellers’, although at this stage they were
essentially opportunistic rather than dispossessed.
At the Encounter Bay whale fishery, it is
claimed that Aboriginal men were employed to
cart blubber to pots where Aboriginal women
boiled it up in vats (Cameron 1979: 39).%
Payment was usually made in gin and tobacco.
The whalers employed at least one Aboriginal
man, named Charlie Warmer, as a ‘spotter’. He
was a member of the Kondoli clan and it was said
that Warner could also sing the whales to come in
or to go out. The whalers believed in his abilities,
paying him with rations. On one occasion, Warner
did not receive his payment through an oversight.
Sustie Wilson, an Aboriginal whaler, claimed:
So Charlie Warner ran out to a rock near the sea,
and began his chanting. A huge whale which was
lying in the bay vanished in a few seconds. The
Australian Register newspaper, 26 June 1841).
The origin of the historical source for this reference is not clear.
SS The Mail, 19 August 1932.
Penney, The South Australian Register newspaper, 21 November 1840.
Penney mentions a ‘Rey. Mr Myers of Encounter Bay’ [= H.A.E. Meyer] who was ‘improving the natives’ and studying their language (The South
SIGNIFICANCE OF WHALES 31
whaling crew dashed out, but could not even find
the wake which is usually left by the whales. They
returned, and went to old Charlie, and give him his
rations. He said, ‘Now you catch him. You go back
same place this afternoon. You catch him all right.’
The same afternoon, they found the whale in the
same place. I often saw him bring whales into the
bay, as well.
Aboriginal men, such as One Arm Charley,
Peter and Encounter Bay Bob, had experience in
the whaling and sealing industries, dating back to
before official European settlement (see Clarke
1991: 98-100; 1996: 56-59; 1998: 37). After
1836, when European colonists arrived at
Encounter Bay, these men became important
agents employed by the Europeans as trackers,
guides and translators.
In the second half of the nineteenth century,
some Aboriginal men were still engaged as whalers
(Taplin Journals, 5 May & 22 July 1861). In 1932
an Aboriginal whaler, Sustie Wilson, claimed that
many of the whalers from the ‘Encounter Bay tribe’
were much better than the Europeans. He was
reported to have said that this ‘was because they
had been throwing spears all their lives, and took to
harpooning naturally.’*® Throughout the whaling
industry, the use of Indigenous harpooners seems
to have been the practice with some teams. During
the operation of the whale fishery on Granite
Island, Aboriginal people were employed to take
wood and drinking water out to the island along a
connecting reef during low tide (Hodge 1932: 124).
Whaling was hazardous employment. For example,
when Sustie Wilson was still quite young and
working in a whaling crew, their boat was dragged
about nineteen kilometres out to sea by a huge
whale. Sustie claimed that it ‘took two days and
two nights to row back ... it was hard going too,
especially when the wind was against us. Not many
of the young men of today could have done it.’”
Transactions between Europeans and
Aboriginal people did not always occur freely.
During the 1837 season, a European named
© The Mail newspaper, 19 August 1932.
over the massacre of the Maria wreck survivors.
°8 The Mail newspaper, 19 August 1932.
Driscoll was travelling on a ‘native pad’ overland
from Encounter Bay to Adelaide when he was
murdered by ‘waddy’ (club) near Hindmarsh
Valley by his Aboriginal guide, Reppindjeri,
known by Europeans as ‘Elic’ (Cameron 1979: 4,
28, 39-42; Jenkin 1979: 52-55; Castles & Harris
1987: 11-13).”' This had resulted from a quarrel
over Driscoll’s apparent refusal to pay for sex
with one of Elic’s two Aboriginal women. The
slain man was a whaler with Captain Blenkinsopp.
Although the Aboriginal people involved kept the
circumstances quiet, a local Aboriginal woman,
Kalinga, who Europeans called ‘Sarah’, leaked the
facts. She was the wife of a Kangaroo Island
sealer and whaler, Walker. Reppindjeri was
arrested by Walker and imprisoned by authorities
for some months on the South Australian moored
near the Bluff, before he allegedly escaped and
disappeared.
Some Aboriginal people in the Lower Murray
area apparently considered that there was an
advantage in working with European colonists. At
Encounter Bay in the 1840s Penney stated that:
The Encounter Bay natives have been properly
brought up, they have never been accustomed to get
anything, without working for it, and this has not
only made them more industrious, but also made
them pay that attention to the instruments and
proceedings of Europeans, that renders them almost
equal to them as general labourers.”
This integration into a European pattern may
well have been due in part to the disruption of
hunting and gathering practices through European
occupation of the land. Tindale blames early
settlement by the whalers for loss of knowledge
of indigenous place-names amongst Aboriginal
people. He states:
Since occupation of much of the western head
waters of the two rivers [Hindmarsh and Inman] had
ceased after the early visits of white whalers, the
names of places there never learned [by his
Aboriginal informants].”
See Pullen’s account (The South Australian Register newspaper, 15 August 1840) of the investigations, involving the assistance of these three men,
* In the fiction of ‘Moby Dick or The Whale’, the main harpooner, Queequeg, was a Maori man (Melville 1851).
70 The Mail newspaper, 19 August 1932.
The ‘native pad’ was a feature of the Aboriginal landscape that Europeans started to use. Meyer (1843: 52) refers to an Aboriginal song about ‘a
fine road ... winding between the hills’ between Encounter Bay and Willunga. This was possibly the trail that Watts Newland and his party were
taken on when two Aboriginal people guided them from Adelaide to Encounter Bay in 1839 (Robinson 1975: 21). In the case of the Encounter Bay
track, this was originally just over half a metre wide, and so its use by Europeans was initially confined to foot and horse traffic (Sweetman 1928
[1988: 4]). Eventually, however, it was widened for use by coaches.
72 The Examiner newspaper, 28 January 1843.
ne
Tindale (Wunindjeri clan entry in ‘Clan Data’ folder in ‘Milerum’ manuscripts, stage 2. Anthropology Archives, S.A. Museum).
32 P. A. CLARKE
The pre-European culture of the northern parts
of the Lower Murray region was, by the twentieth
century, poorly known due to early European
settlement there (see Clarke 1994: 58, 227-231,
241-242).
At Encounter Bay, Aboriginal people adapted
to the new situation, quickly gaining skills in a
wide range of European practices. Penney
claimed:
that many of them can use the axe and the saw, and
have been employed in cutting posts and rails for
fencing, and two or three can drive bullock-drays;
they are all of them very useful in tracking cattle
and horses — they are very good hands in a boat, and
in diving — and they have rendered great services to
owners of the wrecks at Encounter Bay.”
When a drowning occurred in the Encounter
Bay and Lower Murray region, Aboriginal people
invariably assisted in the recovery of the bodies
(Linn 1988: 60).7> Although Meyer ran an
Aboriginal School at Victor Harbor (from 1840 to
about 1846), Aboriginal people were relatively
free to work for European colonists.”° Encounter
Bay people were frequent visitors to the Adelaide
region in the 1840s.”” Even with the establishment
of the Point McLeay Aboriginal Mission in 1859,
Aboriginal people in the Lower Murray region
still moved around fairly freely.
Whaling declined in the early 1840s as gaslight
in the Northern Hemisphere challenged the use of
candles and oil lamps (Blainey 1977: 115). The use
of whale oil declined further when kerosene from
American oil wells became available (Hosking
1973, chap.2: 9, 32-35; Whitelock 1985: 66). The
decreasing value of whale products led to the South
Australia Company pulling out in 1842 (Cameron
1979: 23). By this time, European activities had
already denuded much of the hills behind the
whaling stations at Encounter Bay (‘Baleineau’,
cited in Whitelock 1985: 65). Seasons of whaling
continued sporadically up to the 1870s. In about
1870, whaling recommenced at Encounter Bay,
after stopping in the 1860s (Hodge 1932: 127). For
two seasons there was an Aboriginal crew on the
whaling boats. Aboriginal labour became crucial to
the colony at times when European labour was too
expensive and scarce. Aboriginal people were
The South Australian newspaper, 21 November 1840.
considered suitable for employment that demanded
heavy use of the body. Nevertheless, in 1871 only
one whale was killed and towed to the Bluff
Station (Whitelock 1985: 66). In the early twentieth
century, Aboriginal people in the Lower Murray
area were able, on at least one occasion, to actively
hunt a whale. They killed a 5.6 metre female whale
trapped near Rabbit Island in the Coorong system.
Parts of it were dragged into a boat, cut up and
distributed among the people at the Point McLeay
Mission (Ely 1980).
DISCUSSION
Versions of the Kondoli mythology establish
that the main players were Ancestors and
associated spirit familiars of various descent
groups in the Encounter Bay area of the Lower
Murray cultural region. Here, the whale
mythology, although existing in many different
forms, was used by Aboriginal people to explain
the origin and making of fire. The involvement of
particular bird ancestors and the shark vary widely
across the corpus of this mythology. There are
also parallels between these myths and others that
do not involve the whale. In the coastal regions of
southern Australia, the observation of whales
spouting and the recognition of their warm
bloodedness appear to have been major elements
in the mythology. There is insufficient data for
areas of coastal South Australia outside the Lower
Murray to determine the totemic significance of
whales, but there is an indication that whale
strandings provided other coastal Aboriginal
groups with occasional feasts of food. The records
of who had access to the meat of stranded whales
indicate that Aboriginal people had a system of
determining ownership of food resources
originating from the sea.
From the early nineteenth century, Aboriginal
people were being incorporated into the world
economy through their participation in the marine
industries controlled from the Northern
Hemisphere. European colonists used indigenous
people as a cheap labour force. Aboriginal people
in the Encounter Bay and Adelaide areas, through
75 On 12 December 1837, Aboriginal people dragged the two surviving members of Captain Blenkinsopp’s exploration party from the Murray Mouth
in a whaleboat (The South Australian Register newspaper, 20 January 1838; Gouger 1838: 42-45; Hahn 1838-1839 [1964: 130]; Hosking 1973,
chap.1: 21-22; Cameron 1979: 4, 28). In June 1838 Aboriginal people from east of the Murray Mouth assist the survivors of the wrecked ‘Fanny’
to return to Victor Harbor (The South Australian Register newspaper, 25 August & 8 September 1838).
7° Meyer left the Encounter Bay district in 1848 and settled at Bethany in the Barossa Valley (Cameron 1979: 48).
7 The Observer newspaper, 27 April 1844.
SIGNIFICANCE OF WHALES 33
their interaction with the sealers and whalers,
were the first groups in South Australia to gain
extensive experience of Europeans. Thus whaling
at Encounter Bay provided the background to
Aboriginal and European interaction during the
British colonisation of South Australia.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This paper is based on material in the author’s Ph.D
thesis, which was supervised by Chris Anderson, Peter
Smailes and Kingsley Garbett. Terry Arnott commented
upon a draft of this paper.
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Limits, and Proper Names.’ Australian National
University Press, Canberra.
TINDALE, N. B. 1986. Anthropology. Pp.235—49 in C.
R. Twidale, M. J. Tyler & M. Davies (eds.). ‘Ideas
and Endeavours—The Natural Sciences in South
Australia.” Royal Society of South Australia,
Adelaide.
TINDALE, N. B. 1987. The wanderings of Tjirbruki: a
tale of the Kaurna people of Adelaide. Records of the
South Australian Museum. 20: 5-13.
WILLIAMS, W. 1839. ‘A vocabulary of the language
of the Aborigines of the Adelaide district...’
MacDougall, Adelaide. Reprinted in the South
Australian Colonist newspaper, 7 July 1840. Also
pp. 57-70 in T. A. Parkhouse (ed). 1926. ‘Reprints
and Papers Relating to the Autochthones of
Australia.” Parkhouse, Woodville.
WHITELOCK, D. 1985. ‘Conquest to Conservation.
History of Human Impact on the South Australian
Environment.’ Wakefield Press, Adelaide.
WYATT, W. 1879. Some account of ... the Adelaide
and Encounter Bay tribes. Pp.157-81 in J. D. Woods
(ed.) ‘The Native Tribes of South Australia.’ E. S.
Wiggs & Sons, Adelaide.
TAXONOMIC REVISION OF THE AUSTRALIAN LIZARD PYGOPUS
NIGRICEPS (SQUAMATA : GEKKONOIDEA)
BRIAN H. JAMES, STEPHEN C. DONNELLAN & MARK N. HUTCHINSON
Summary
Allozyme electrophoresis and analysis of scalation, colour pattern and body proportions were used
to define species boundaries in the widespread, arid adapted legless lizard Pygopus nigriceps. Three
species are recognised. Pygopus nigriceps (Fischer, 1882) is confined to the sandy deserts of central
and western Australia. Pygopus schraderi Boulenger, 1913 inhabits mainly heavier soils and rocky
substrates in the arid and semi-arid zones of eastern Australia. The third species is described a new,
and occurs in the wet-dry tropics of northern Australia.
TAXONOMIC REVISION OF THE AUSTRALIAN LIZARD PYGOPUS NIGRICEPS
(SQUAMATA: GEKKONOIDEA)
BRIAN H. JAMES, STEPHEN C. DONNELLAN & MARK N. HUTCHINSON
JAMES, B. H., DONNELLAN, S. C. and HUTCHINSON, M. N. 2001. Taxonomic revision of
the Australian lizard Pygopus nigriceps (Squamata: Gekkonoidea). Records of the South
Australian Museum 34(1): 37-52.
Allozyme electrophoresis and analysis of scalation, colour pattern and body proportions
were used to define species boundaries in the widespread, arid adapted legless lizard Pygopus
nigriceps. Three species are recognised. Pygopus nigriceps (Fischer, 1882) is confined to the
sandy deserts of central and western Australia. Pygopus schraderi Boulenger, 1913 inhabits
mainly heavier soils and rocky substrates in the arid and semi-arid zones of eastern Australia.
The third species is described as new, and occurs in the wet-dry tropics of northern Australia.
B. H. James, S. C. Donnellan, and M. N. Hutchinson. South Australian Museum, North
Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia 5000. Manuscript received 11 May 2000.
Pygopods are a lineage of snake-like lizards
endemic to Australia and New Guinea with
evolutionary affinities to the geckoes (Kluge
1987; King 1990; Donnellan et al. 1999). There
are 35 species of pygopods recognised, placed by
most recent authors into eight genera (Kluge
1974, 1976; Wilson & Knowles 1988; Storr et al.
1990; Ehmann 1992; Cogger 1996). The genus
Pygopus Merrem is considered (Kluge 1974;
Cogger 1996) to comprise two species, Pygopus
lepidopodus (Lacépéde) which occupies the
southwestern, southern and eastern margins of
Australia, and Pygopus nigriceps (Fischer) which
is widespread throughout the more xeric parts of
Australia.
Kluge (1974) found considerable phenotypic
divergence between populations of P. nigriceps
from the western and eastern parts of Australia.
They were separated by a narrow zone of
character discontinuity located approximately
along 135°E. In addition, he found that
specimens from north of 18°S in Western
Australia (WA) and the Northern Territory (NT)
tended to be more like the eastern than the
western form but Kluge had insufficient
specimens to be able to identify the northern
extension of the character discontinuity. He
suggested that two subspecies be recognised, a
western P. n. nigriceps and an eastern P. n.
schraderi Boulenger, and that the northern
specimens be treated as a taxonomically separate
unnamed, problematical set.
Kluge’s separation of P. nigriceps into two
subspecies was continued by Storr et al. (1990)
and Cogger (1996) who both ascribed the northern
WA and NT specimens to P. n. schraderi. Wilson
and Knowles (1988) suggested that northern
populations were an intermediate form that could
be tentatively regarded as undescribed. Ehmann
(1992, 1995) provided two different
interpretations for the status of P. nigriceps. In
1992, he suggested there were two separate
species, P. nigriceps whose range he gave
approximately as west of 135°E, including
northern WA and the NT, and P. schraderi, whose
range he gave approximately as east of 135°E
including Cape York Peninsula. However, by
1995 he had altered this view and suggested there
were two subspecies, P. n. nigriceps and P. n.
schraderi. Their ranges were as he had suggested
previously for P. nigriceps and P. schraderi,
except that populations from northern WA and
the NT were assigned to P. n. schraderi while
those from Cape York Peninsula were not
assigned to either subspecies.
In the present study, we have employed
multilocus allozyme electrophoresis and
morphology to examine the taxonomic status of
P. nigriceps and to clarify species boundaries.
This revision explicitly invokes the evolutionary
species concept (Simpson 1951), the significant
feature of which is that a species is a lineage
evolving separately from others and with its own
unitary evolutionary history and fate.
38 B. H. JAMES, S.C. DONNELLAN & M. N. HUTCHINSON
MATERIALS AND METHODS
Specimens
For the allozyme analysis, frozen liver samples
from the Australian Biological Tissue Collection
(ABTC) at the South Australian Museum,
Adelaide were used. The samples had been
dissected from fresh specimens and stored
continuously at —80°C. In all, liver samples from
43 specimens of P. nigriceps were available for
analysis. In addition, liver samples from nine
specimens of P. lepidopodus, chosen to cover the
known range, were used to provide a sister lineage
for the P. nigriceps species-complex, and as a
check on the authenticity of the P. nigriceps
samples. An incidental aim was to gain
preliminary data on possible cryptic speciation,
given the extensive range and known colour
variations in P. lepidopodus.
There was the potential for a very large
number of P. nigriceps specimens to be
available for morphological analysis from the
Australian state museum collections. We
concentrated on specimens from north of the
Tropic of Capricorn (23°26'30"S). All
specimens whose liver tissues were examined
in the allozyme study were examined for
morphological characters, provided that the
body was available for analysis, as were all
specimens in the South Australian Museum
collection and selected specimens from the
other state museums. Museum registration
numbers for all specimens examined
electrophoretically and/or morphologically (n =
260) are given in the Appendix. Institutional
acronyms follow Leviton et al. (1985).
Allozyme electrophoresis
Allozyme electrophoresis was conducted with
liver homogenates on cellulose acetate gels
(Cellogel, Chemetron) according to the methods
of Richardson et al. (1986). Proteins and enzyme
products of 35 presumed loci were scored. The
enzymes and other products stained, abbreviations
and Enzyme Commission Numbers are: aspartate
aminotransferase (AAT, EC 2.6.1.1), aconitate
hydratase (ACOH, EC 4.2.1.3), aminoacylase
(ACYC, EC 3.5.1.14), adenosine deaminase
(ADA, EC 3.5.4.4), alcohol dehydrogenase (ADH,
EC 1.1.1.1), carbonate dehydratase (CA, EC
4.2.1.1), diaphorase (DIA, EC 1.6.99.?), enolase
(ENO, EC 4.2.1.11), esterase (EST, EC 3.1.1.7),
fructose-bisphosphatase (FBP, EC 3.1.3.11),
fumarate hydratase (FUMH, EC 4.2.1.2),
glyceraldehyde-3-phosphate dehydrogenase
(GAPDH, EC 1.2.1.12), guanine deaminase
(GDA, EC 3.5.4.3), (S)-2-hydroxy-acid oxidase
(GOX, EC 1.1.3.15), glycerol-3-phosphate
dehydrogenase (G3PDH, EC _ 1.1.1.8),
glucose-6-phosphate isomerase (GPI, EC 5.3.1.9),
B-glucuronidase (BGLUR, EC 3.2.1.31), L-iditol
dehydrogenase (IDDH, EC 1.1.1.14), isocitrate
dehydrogenase (IDH, EC 1.1.1.42), cytosol
aminopeptidase (LAP, EC 3.4.11.1), L-lactate
dehydrogenase (LDH, EC = 1.1.1.27),
lactoglutathione lyase (LGL, EC 4.4.1.5), malate
dehydrogenase (MDH, EC 1.1.1.37), ‘malic’
enzyme (MDHP, EC 1.1.1.40),
mannose-6-phosphate isomerase (MPI, EC
5.3.1.8), nucleoside-diphosphate kinase (NDPK,
EC 2.7.4.6), dipeptidase (PEP-A, EC 3.4.13.?),
tripeptide aminopeptidase (PEP-B, EC 3.4.11.?),
proline dipeptidase (PEP-D, EC 3.4.13.?),
phosphogluconate dehydrogenase (PGDH, EC
1.1.1.44), phosphoglucomutase (PGM, EC
5.4.2.2), superoxide dismutase (SOD, EC
1.15.1.1) and triose-phosphate isomerase (TPI, EC
5.3.1.1). For the genetic analysis, geographically
proximate specimens of a single genetic type that
is, where there were no fixed allelic differences,
were pooled to form Operational Taxonomic Units
(OTUs). On this basis, 25 OTUs of P. nigriceps
were designated. Each of the P. lepidopodus
specimens was treated as a separate OTU. The
OTU localities are shown in Fig. 1 and
composition in the Appendix. Evolutionary
distances between OTUs were estimated with
Cavalli-Sforza chord distances (Cavalli-Sforza &
Edwards 1967) calculated with BIOSYS-1
(Swofford & Selander 1981). The Neighbour-
joining (NJ) algorithm, implemented in PHYLIP
version 3.5c (Felsenstein 1993) was used to build
trees from these distances. The maximum
parsimony (MP) criterion optimality was also used
to recover phylogenetic trees with each locus
considered as a character and each allele as an
unordered character state. Polymorphic loci were
encoded as uncertainties using this option for
multistate characters in PAUP* version 4.0b3.
(Swofford 1999). The data were bootstrapped to
assess confidence for individual nodes.
Morphology
Kluge (1974) assembled a large character set
for morphological analysis of the pygopods. Many
of these characters are not applicable to the genus
Pygopus and some are difficult to score in that
they depend upon arbitrary starting points or
locations on the body. Initially, we selected those
REVISION OF PYGOPUS NIGRICEPS 39
FIGURE 1. Map showing collection localities for the 34 Pygopus OTUs examined electrophoretically. See
Appendix | for a key to the OTU labels. [_] = ‘eastern’ group, © = ‘northern’ group, Il = ‘western’ group, & = P.
lepidopodus.
characters reported by Kluge as varying
significantly within Pygopus and were either
quantitative in nature, or if qualitative, defined by
unambiguous reference points. We added several
new characters that seemed likely to be useful for
taxonomic purposes. Measurements were made
with vernier callipers to the nearest mm.
The characters and their abbreviations used in
the morphological study are listed below. Where
characters were defined by Kluge (1976), they are
indicated by *; characters modified from those
used by Kluge are indicated by #.
Subnostril scale*_ (SNS). The nostril may
contact the first supralabial scale (0) or a thin
strip of the nasal scale may separate the nostril
from the supralabial (1). Kluge’s ‘subnostril
scale’ refers to the portion of the nasal
underlying the nostril.
Ventral_scales* (VS). The number of ventral
scales between the posterior edge of the mental
and the vent, including the preanal scale.
Orbital _scales*_(OS). The number of scales
along the anterior margin of the bony portion
of the orbit between the anteriormost and
posteriormost enlarged supraciliary scales.
Dorsal scale keeling* (DSK). Keels absent (0),
scales weekly keeled (1), or scales moderately
keeled (2). The keeled scales were always
unicarinate.
Dorsal scale row keeling (DSRK). The number
of dorsal rows of scales exhibiting keeling.
Preanal pores* (PP). The total number of
preanal pores.
Dorsal interorbital pattern* (DIP). Pattern on
the dorsal surface of the head between the
orbits. Varies from no significant pigmentation
to a mottled appearance, not distinctly different
from the snout, to the presence of brown or
black pigmentation forming a faint to strongly
contrasting dark bar. Scored as no significant
pigmentation, not distinctly different from
snout (0), mottled appearance not distinctly
different from snout (1), brown or black
pigmentation present as a faint bar (2), or
40 B. H. JAMES, S.C. DONNELLAN & M. N. HUTCHINSON
TABLE 1. Allele frequencies expressed as a percentage for 34 OTUs of Pygopus at 35 loci. Alleles are designated alphabetically, with ‘a’ being the most
cathodally migrating allele. Where enzymes are encoded by more than one locus, the loci are designated numerically in order of increasing mobility.
Sample sizes are given at the head of each column, except when fewer individuals were successfully typed. In the latter case sample sizes are indicated by
the number in superscript beside the first allelic frequency entry for a locus. Where allele frequencies are not given, the OTU is fixed for the allele. The
following loci were invariant: Ca, BGlur, Ldh-1, Ldh-2, Lap, Mdh and Tpi.
‘eastern’ ‘northern’
Locus WIN WID COR COO ARC CAL MID IRO- RMI CAP TCK TAN GLE FIN) MAC YUL
1 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 3 3 1 1 1 2 2
Aat a a a a a a a a a a d(17) a a c(50) c(25) —c(25)
(33) a(50) a(75) a(75)
b(17)
a(33)
Acoh-l b b b b b b b b b b a a b(50) b(50)_c(50) bb
a(50) a(S0) = a(S0)
Acoh-2. ¢ c d(50) cc c b b c(50) c a b(83) ob b o bl (50)
c(50) b(S50) a(17) b(50)
Acyc b b b b c(50) (50) b 2 c(75) d b b b b b b
b(50) (50) b(25)
Ada a a a a a a a a a b b b b b b b
Adh a a a a a b(50) a a a a a a a a a a
a(50)
Dia b b b a a b b(50) b b a c c c c c c
a(50)
Eno b b(S0) b b b b b b b b b(67) b b b b b
a(50) a(33)
Est c(50) b b b b b b b b b(83) b b b b b b
b(S0) a(17)
Fbp a a a a a a a a a a a a a a b(25) a
a(75)
Fumh b b b b b b b b b b b b b b b b(75)
a(25)
Gapdh b b b b - - b b b b b - b b b b
Gda a a a a a a a a a b(17) b b b b b b
a(83)
Gox b b b b b c(50) (50) c b (83) c(83) oc ce, c c(25) c¢
6650) a(50) bd7) ——-b(17) b(75)
G3pdh_ b b b b b b b b b a b b b b ~ b
Gpi a a a a - - a a a a a a a a a a
Iddh ¢ C c c c c ¢ c c c f f e fS50q - (50)
e(50) e(50)
£(50)
(50)
bG3)
a(67)
(8)
£60)
b(86)
a(14)
b
NIN
b
REVISION OF PYGOPUS NIGRICEPS
CAN BAR
a(25)
P. lepidopodus
YLE YAL ESP HAM STO
1 1 1 1 1 1 1
a a a a a c(50)
a(50)
b c c c c(50) a c
b(50)
c(S0) e(50) e(50) d(S0) d c d
b(S0) (50) (50) (50)
b b b b b b b
b - b b b b (50)
b(S0)
a a a a b a a
c - d d d d d
b c b c c a c
b b b b(50) b b b
a(50)
a b(50) a a a a b
a(50)
b b b b b b b
b a a a a a -
b b b b b b b
- b c b b c(50) —
b(50)
b - b b c a -
a a a a a a a
f c c(50) b (50) d -
b(50) b(S0)
c(50)
b(50)
41
42 B. H. JAMES, S. C. DONNELLAN & M. N. HUTCHINSON
TABLE 1. (cont.)
‘eastern’
‘northern’
Locus WIN WID COR COO ARC CAL MID IRO_ RMI CAP TCK TAN GLE FIN) MAC YUL
1 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 2
Mpi c (75) (50) b b b b b b
(25) (50)
Ndpk b b b b b b b b b
Pep-A a a a a a a a a
Pep-Bl a a a a a a a a
Pep-B2. (50) _b b d e b d d d
Pep-D (50) e&50) e(50) e e e e e e
Pgm a a a a a a a a a
Sod c c c c c c c c c
brown or black pigmentation present as a
strong bar (3).
Dorsal nuchal pattern* (DNP). The pattern on
the dorsal surface of the head and neck
immediately posterior to the parietal region
varies in a similar way to the interorbital
region. Scored as no significant pigmentation
not distinctly different from snout (0), mottled
appearance not distinctly different from snout
(1), brown or black pigmentation present as a
faint band (2), or brown or black pigmentation
present as a strong band (3).
Orbital patch (OP). Dorsoventrally orientated
darkly pigmented patch around and/or below
the orbit extending to the supralabial scales and
sometimes to the infralabial scales. Scored as
absent (0), faint (1), moderately intense (2) or
intense (3).
Narial patch (NP). Dorsoventrally oriented
darkly pigmented patch or streak around and/or
3 3 1 1 1 2 2
a a a a a al a
b b b b b b b
b b b b b b b
d b b(50) b b b b
a(50)
b b b b b b b
b(75) b c b b (50)! b
a(25) b(50)
a b a a a al a
c(50) c f(50) c c(50) f(50) c
b(33) (50) b(50) (25)
a(17) b(25)
e(67) ~—-g(17)- £650) g (50) g(S0) ff (25)
(33) f(83) b(S0) £50) (50) (75)
a a a a a c(25) a
a(75)
b c(83) oc c c c c
b(17)
scales and sometimes to the infralabial scales.
Scored as absent (0), faint (1), moderately
intense (2) or intense (3).
Contrast of lateral head pattern (LHP). Relative
intensities of the orbital and narial patches may
vary. Whereas some specimens or species show
an equally intense development of both
patches, others may have a noticeably weak
expression of the narial patch (even absence)
compared to the orbital patch. The converse
(narial patch more strongly developed than
orbital patch) was not observed. Scored as
intensities of both patches equal (1), differing
by one on the NP and OP scores (2), differing
by two (3), or differing by three (4).
Snout-vent length* (SVL). The horizontal
distance between the median anterior-most
extreme of the snout and the median posterior-
most extreme of the middle preanal scale.
These characters were scored for each specimen
below the nostril extending to the supralabial from which liver samples had been taken for
REVISION OF PYGOPUS NIGRICEPS
‘western’
ILL OLY MAB LAV NIN CAN BAR BOO YLE
1 3 7 2 1 1 2 1 1
- a a - a - a a a
- b c7) =»b b b b b b
b(93)
b b b(86) b b - b b b
a(14)
b b b b c(50) b b e(50) b
b(50) b(50)
b b b® b b b b b b
c(25) (33) b* b b - b b b
B75) b(67)
a c(83) a b(25) (50) - c(25) (50) a
a(17) a(75) _—_a(S0) b(75) —_a(S0)
c c f(21) c¢ c - c c c
c(79)
- f h(7)—-g(50)_ f g g(25) (50) f
£(86) — e(25) £(50) (50)
e7) (25) e(25)
a a a a a a b(SO0) a a
a(50)
c c c c c c c c c
43
P. lepidopodus
YAL ESP HAM STO SYD WAL KAR RM2 CIN
1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1
- a a a b(50) - b(50) a a
a(50) a(50)
- a a a a a a a a
b b b b a - - b a
c(50) a a a
t £(50) b f f e b £(50)
b(50) (50)
a a a a a a a a a
a a a a a a a a a
allozyme electrophoresis, except for three
‘western’ specimens for which vouchers were not
available for examination (ABTC 6588, 31799,
31812). For statistical comparisons of the
morphological characters except SVL, the
significance of differences between taxa was
assessed with the non-parametric Mann-Whitney
U test. For comparisons of SVL, unpaired
Student’s f tests were used after testing for
departures from a normal distribution for each
taxon (Shapiro-Wilks test) and pairwise tests of
equality of variances (Levene test). All tests were
two-tailed with an a set at 0.05 and were carried
out with STATISTICA (Statsoft Inc. 1997).
RESULTS
Table 1 shows the allelic profiles of the 25
OTUs of P. nigriceps and nine OTUs of P.
lepidopodus for the 35 loci. These data were
converted into matrices of percentages of loci
showing fixed allelic differences (FD) and
Cavalli-Sforza chord distances between OTUs
(not shown). A fixed allelic difference occurs at a
locus when the two samples under comparison
share no alleles (Richardson et al. 1986).
Richardson et al. (1986) argued that percentage of
loci showing fixed allelic differences is an
appropriate genetic distance metric for species
boundary studies and is relatively unaffected by
small sample size. We present a phenogram
constructed from Cavalli-Sforza chord distances
between OTUs by NJ (Fig. 2A). A heuristic search
under MP found 77 335 equally most
parsimonious trees of length 53 steps. A strict
consensus of the equally most parsimonious trees
with bootstrap proportions from 10 000
pseudoreplicates is presented in Fig. 2B. For the
NJ and MP analyses adjacent populations between
which there were no fixed allelic differences were
pooled and allele frequencies recalculated, making
44 B. H. JAMES, S.C. DONNELLAN & M. N. HUTCHINSON
RMI eastern
CAP northern
FIN GLE ILE MAC YUL
MAB OLY
LAV NIN
BAR BOO YLE
CAN TAN TCK
western
STO P. lepidopodus
eastern
ARC
coo
‘WID COR
78 CAP
BAR BOO YLE
MAB OLY
FIN GLE ILE MAC YUL
CAN TAN TCK
LAV NIN
northern
western
syD P. lepidopodus
FIGURE 2. (A) A Neighbour-joining phenogram
constructed from Cavalli-Sforza chord distances
between OTUs; and (B) a strict consensus tree of more
than 2000 equally most parsimonious trees found with a
heuristic search. Bootstrap proportions >70% from 2000
pseudoreplicates are indicated to the left of relevant
nodes.
a total of 14 OTUs within P. nigriceps for the
final analyses.
The allozyme data (Fig. 2 and Table 1) show
that the P. nigriceps OTUs are genetically more
similar to one another than they are to any of the
P. lepidopodus OTUs. Monophyly of the P.
nigriceps OTUs received strong support (78%)
from bootstrapping (Fig. 2B). The P. lepidopodus
OTUs exhibit considerable genetic heterogeneity
suggesting that more study is warranted.
Within P. nigriceps, both the NJ and the MP
analyses are concordant in showing the presence
of three lineages herein designated ‘eastern’,
‘northern’, and ‘western’. However, strong
bootstrap support (>70%) was found only for the
monophyly of the ‘eastern’ lineage (Fig. 2B). The
primary split between the P. nigriceps OTUs
occurs at a minimum of 14% FD and broadly
distinguishes two groups, an ‘eastern’ and a
‘western’ group. These two groups show
diagnostic allozyme differences at four loci (Ada,
Dia, Gda and Iddh) and other differences that are
diagnostic for some of the OTUs between each
group at eight loci (Aat-2, Acoh-1, Acoh-2, Acyc,
Fumh, Pep-A, Pep-B1 and Pep-D). There is
genetic divergence within both the ‘eastern’ and
‘western’ groups with seven loci (Acoh-2, Acyc,
Dia, Gox, Mpi, Pep-B2 and Pep-D) displaying
fixed allelic differences between one or more
OTUs in the ‘eastern’ group and six loci (Acoh-1/,
Acoh-2, Eno, Iddh, Pep-BI and Pep-D) displaying
fixed allelic differences between one or more
OTUs in the ‘western’ group. The greatest
intragroup genetic divergence, at an average of
10% FD, is between the OTUs WIN, WID and
COR from central Queensland (Qld) and the
‘eastern’ group OTUs situated in the corridor
between the eastern and western deserts. This may
reflect the well-known climatic-ecological barrier
of the Simpson Desert on patterns of speciation
(Cracraft 1986, 1991).
None of the OTUs of the ‘eastern’ and
‘western’ groups were found in strict sympatry.
However, ‘eastern’ and ‘western’ groups were
found in regional sympatry, i.e. within 30-80 km
of each other, in the Coober Pedy/Mabel Creek
area (OTUs COO and MAB). Fixed allelic
differences at six loci (Ada, Dia, Gda, Iddh, Pep-
A and Pep-B2) were found between the two
OTUs. Given the null hypothesis that two OTUs
are sampled from a single population of eight
individuals, the probability of not observing a
heterozygote at the six loci showing fixed allelic
differences can be derived from the Hardy-
Weinberg equation as (1-[2 x 0.125 x 0.875])** =
7.035 x 10° (see Richardson et al. 1986 for a
fuller explanation of this approach). Hence, the
null hypothesis can be rejected and a reasonable
alternative hypothesis is that two species are
present in the Coober Pedy/Mabel Creek area.
A second split among the P. nigriceps OTUs
occurs at a minimum of 21% FD and distinguishes
REVISION OF PYGOPUS NIGRICEPS
the ‘eastern’ and ‘western’ groups from a single
‘northern’ OTU, CAP. There are diagnostic
allozyme differences between the ‘eastern’ and
‘northern’ groups at six loci (Acoh-2, Acyc, Ada,
G3pdh, Pep-B1, and Sod) and between the
‘western’ and ‘northern’ groups at five loci (Acyc,
Dia, G3pdh, Iddh and Mpi). In addition, there are
other differences that are diagnostic for some of
the OTUs between the ‘northern’ and other two
groups at 11 loci (Acoh-1, Acoh-2, Dia, Gda,
Iddh, Mpi, Pep-A, Pep-Bl, Pep-B2, Pep-D and
Sod).
The magnitude of the genetic differences
encountered, the evidence of separate evolutionary
histories of the ‘eastern’, ‘western’ and ‘northern’
groups and direct evidence of lack of gene flow
between two of the lineages is sufficient to reject
the null hypothesis of a single species within P.
nigriceps. Consequently, we considered the
groups as three separate species for the purposes
of morphological examination. The ‘eastern’ and
‘western’ groups correspond roughly in
45
geographic location with Kluge’s (1974)
suggested ranges for P. n. schraderi and P. n.
nigriceps respectively. The ‘northern’ group
comprises only one population in the samples
available for electrophoresis thus preventing any
delineation of its geographical distribution on
allozyme data alone. These three groups proved to
have a distinctive suite of morphological
characters as outlined in the following analysis.
A summary of the variation in morphological
characters is shown in Table 2 for the three
groups. The data in Table 2 show that a suite of
morphological features varies concordantly with
the electrophoretic data. This table therefore
provides the basic morphological characters for
separating specimens into the ‘eastern’, ‘northern’
and ‘western’ groups.
The ‘western’ group is easily separated from
the other two groups in that: the nostril is
separated from the first supralabial scale by the
nasal (‘subnasal scale’ present); dorsal scale
keeling is absent; the mean number of ventral
TABLE 2. Morphological statistics for specimens of Pygopus for which allozyme data were collected. E = ‘eastern’
group, N = ‘northern’ group, W = ‘western’ group. See text for character abbreviations. X = mean, S = standard
deviation, R = range, n = sample size, * P for two-tailed Mann-Whitney U or unpaired Student’s f tests, tests for
normal distribution" and equality of variances’ were not significant. See Materials and Methods for the definitions
of characters.
Univariate Statistics
Character Group E (n=11) N (n=3)
SNS X (S) 0 (0) 0 (0)
VS x (5) 110.3 (4.6) 109.7 (1.2)
R 105-122 109-111
OS X (S) 9.18 (1.17) 10.7 (1.5)
R 7-11 9-12
DSK X (S) 2(0) 1(0)
DSRK x (S) 12.4 (0.8) 7.67 (1.58)
R 12-14 6-9
PP xX (S) 13.0 (1.2) 13.3 (0.6)
R 12-15 13-14
DIP x (S) 0.45 (0.52) 0.33 (0.58)
R 0-1 0-1
DNP X (S) 2.09 (0.83) 1.33 (1.15)
R 0-3 0-2
OP x (S) 1.91 (0.70) 2.67 (0.58)
R 1-3 2-3
NP X (S) 1.82 (0.60) 0
R 1-3 -
LHP x (S) 1.09 (0.30) 3.67 (0.58)
R 1-2 3-4
SVL x (S) 147.6 (23.1)" = 136.0 (7.9)"
R 96-178 130-145
Pairwise Statistical
Comparisons*
W (n=26) E/N E/wW N/W
1 (0) 0.88 <0.001 <0.001
130.8 (5.9) 1.0 <0.001 <0.001
114-140
11.8 (1.6) 0.17 <0.001 0.35
10-16
0(0) 0.005 >0.001 <0.001
0 (0) 0.005 >0.001 <0.001
10.2 (1.1) 0.45 <0.001 <0.001
8-12
2.32 (.80) 0.78 <0.001 0.004
0-3
2.92 (0.28) 0.29 0.001 0.002
2-3
2.44 (0.71) 0.37 0.09 0.89
1-3
1.2 (1.04) 0.005 0.02 0.06
0-3
2.24 (0.88) 0.005 <0.001 0.019
14
156.1 (33.2)" 0.42" 0.45” 0.31
79-204
46 B. H. JAMES, S.C. DONNELLAN & M. N. HUTCHINSON
scales is greater than 120; the mean number of
preanal pores is less than 12; there is usually a
well-developed blackish interorbital bar.
The ‘eastern’ group can be separated from the
‘northern’ group in that: The dorsal scales are
moderately keeled with keeling occurring over ten
or more rows in the ‘eastern’ group but weakly
keeled over fewer than ten rows in the ‘northern’
group. The orbital and narial patches are present
and are of moderate and equal intensities in the
‘eastern’ group, while in the ‘northern’ group the
orbital patch is more strongly expressed than the
nasal patch in any individual, and the nasal patch
may be completely absent.
These characters were then used to separate the
museum specimens for which tissues had not been
available for allozyme electrophoresis. The great
majority of specimens were readily separated (n =
251) but some difficulty was experienced in
separating six ‘eastern’ and ‘northern’ specimens
that had ‘washed out’ body patterns together with
indeterminate scale keeling. The consistent
allozyme and morphological differences between
the three groups is sufficient for each group to be
given species status. The ‘western’ group is P.
nigriceps, the ‘eastern’ group P. schraderi and the
‘northern’ group P. steelescotti sp. nov. A map
showing the geographic distribution of the three
species is shown in Fig. 3. Note that the
distributions of P. nigriceps and P. schraderi
overlap in south-western Queensland (Qld),
eastern NT and central and eastern SA; and those
of P. nigriceps and P. steelescotti sp. nov. overlap
in northern NT and WA; and all three species are
found in eastern NT.
Once separated into the three species, the
characters used in the morphological study on the
electrophoresed specimens were scored. The
results are summarised in the species descriptions
given below. An additional character of Kluge,
tail length, was added. It was measured as the
horizontal distance between the posterior-most
extreme of the middle preanal scale and the tip of
the tail. Measurements were made only on those
few specimens with complete and unregenerated
tails.
FIGURE 3. Map showing geographic distribution of specimens of Pygopus examined for morphological characters.
W@ = P. nigriceps, © = P. steelescotti, | = P. schraderi.
REVISION OF PYGOPUS NIGRICEPS 47
The P. nigriceps species complex conforms to
Kluge’s (1976) definition of the genus Pygopus.
The dorsal surface of the head is covered with
large and small scales, there are between three
and five postmental scales, 21 or more midbody
scale rows, nine or more preanal pores and the
dorsal body scales are often keeled. The three
species of the complex differ from the only other
species in the genus, P. lepidopodus, in that the P.
nigriceps complex has immaculate ventral
surfaces (versus boldly variegated with black),
smooth to moderately keeled dorsal scales (versus
strongly keeled) and there is no dorsal snout
pattern.
Pygopus nigriceps (Fischer, 1882)
Cryptodelma nigriceps Fischer, J. G. (1882), p.
290. Holotype SMNS 2259, Nickol Bay, WA.
Type lost, believed destroyed during World War
II (Schliiter and Hallermann 1997).
Delma (Cryptodelma) baileyi Giinther, A. (1897),
p. 170. Holotype BMNH specimen, now lost
(Kluge 1974), from the neighbourhood of Cue,
WA.
Pygopus territorianus Wells, R. W. and
Wellington, C. R. (1985), p. 16. Holotype AMS
R56823, near Tennant Creek, NT.
Notes
Both of the names that could be applied to the
‘western’ species are based on type specimens that
are now lost. Fortunately, both have fairly precise
type localities, which place them well outside the
known distribution of the other two species.
Cryptodelma nigriceps was described and figured
by Fischer (1882) who proposed the new genus
for this species, which appeared to combine the
smooth scalation of Delma with preanal pores as
in Pygopus. Fischer acknowledged that his very
small specimen (SVL 64 mm) was almost
certainly a juvenile, and its SVL is smaller than
any we measured, although we did not extensively
sample juveniles. The illustrations clearly depict
the V-shaped preanal pore row (11 pores), large
hindlimb flaps and head scalation (form of the
two frontal shields and double row of loreal
scales), a combination of features confined to
Pygopus (sensu Kluge 1974). The dark head and
nape markings are described and figured as
confluent, unusual in specimens of the ‘western’
species but not unknown (e.g. SAMA R22932
from Barradale, WA).
Giinther (1897) described his new species,
Delma (Cryptodelma) baileyi, from an immature
specimen (SVL 90 mm), noting that it was very
close to Fischer’s nigriceps but differed in its
lower midbody scale count (22, versus 26 or 28).
Fischer, however, implicitly included the ventrals
in his midbody count, making his specimen’s
likely dorsal count 24 or 26, 24 being a frequent
count in WA specimens. As with C. nigriceps,
Giinther’s specimen had smooth scales and 11
preanal pores, both characteristic features of the
‘western’ group. Giinther’s illustration shows
distinct black interorbital and nuchal colouring,
with blackish narial and orbital patches extending
on to the lower labials again features typical of
the ‘western’ species.
Wells and Wellington (1985) proposed Pygopus
territorianus as a new species from the Northern
Territory, but provided little justification. They
stated that this species could be ‘readily diagnosed
by consulting existing descriptive references’ and
the figure of a typical specimen (possibly the
holotype) in Swanson (1976; Pl 34). They also
added that the species lacks the distinctive keeling
of the body scales seen in Pygopus klugei (q.v. =
P. schraderi) and lacks the colour pattern
(‘reticulated patterning’) of P. schraderi. The
holotype is a specimen of the western form, and
we therefore regard P. ferritorianus as a junior
synonym of C. nigriceps. The body scales are
completely smooth, the nostril is separated from
the first upper labial and there are 11 preanal
pores. The ventral count is relatively low (120)
for the western form, but still within the sample
range, and the colour pattern is markedly ‘faded’,
with little black pigment remaining on top of the
head, a trend in some populations of all of the P.
nigriceps complex. The tail shows the strong
pattern of dark-edged scales typically present in
the ‘western’ form.
Neotype
To stabilise the name, a neotype, WAM
R102063, has been selected for Cryptodelma
nigriceps, from the same geographical area as the
lost type (see notes). It was collected on the Yule
River, WA (20°40'S, 118°21'E) by D. Robinson in
1990.
Diagnosis
A large pygopod (SVL up to 227 mm.) differing
from other Pygopus in having smooth dorsal
scales, the nostril entirely contained within the
nasal, usually 120 or more ventral scales, and
fewer than 14 preanal pores.
48 B. H. JAMES, S. C. DONNELLAN & M. N. HUTCHINSON
FIGURE 4. Representative head patterns of three
species of Pygopus: (A) P. nigriceps (SAMA R48749);
(B) P. steelescotti (NTM R20546); (C) P. schraderi
(SAMA R46370).
Description
Ventral scales 114-143 (X = 130.0, S=5.9, n=
116); orbital scales 9-16 (K = 11.6, S=1.4,n=
118); nostril always completely enclosed by the
nasal, separated from first supralabial scale (n =
119); preanal pores 8-14 (X = 10.8, S= 1.1, n=
117); snout-vent length 73-227 mm (X = 157.6, S
= 33.7, n = 118); tail length ranges from 104% of
SVL in smallest juveniles to 165% of SVL in
largest specimens; no dorsal scale keeling (n =
118).
Colouration
In preservative, the basic head, body and tail
colour is light tan to reddish brown. Scales, except
for ventral scales, are speckled with brown or
black pigmentation. Head, body and tail patterns
are caused by the relative intensities and widths of
the pigmented scale margins or by individual paler
and darker speckled scales. Head patterns are
formed with brown to black pigmentation and
body and tail patterns by light to dark brown
pigmentation. Ventral surfaces are immaculate
with the scales a creamy-white or silver colour.
There is a dark brown or black pigmented bar
present on the dorsal surface of the head between
the orbits which extends as a teardrop-shaped
orbital patch descending to the supralabial scales
and sometimes to the infralabial scales (Fig. 4A).
A further area of dark pigmentation, but less
intense, is found around the nostrils, again
extending to the supralabial scales and sometimes
to the infralabial scales. A brown to black nuchal
band extends to the ear openings. There is no
distinct body patterning. The tail is marked, often
strongly, in the form of dark brown backward
pointing chevrons that converge on the vertebral
line. The smallest juveniles (SVL about 75 mm)
are sandy-yellow with low levels of scale
pigmentation except for the heavily black
pigmented and contrasting head pattern. There is
no distinct body pattern in juveniles and only
weak light-brown chevrons on the tail. Coloration
in life is shown in photographs in Storr et al.
(1990: Pl 20, Figs 3-4), Glasby et al. (1993: Pl 4,
Fig. 12), Cogger (1996: p. 297).
Distribution
West of 136°E and the far south-western corner
of Queensland (Qld) (Fig. 3).
Pygopus schraderi Boulenger, 1913
Pygopus schraderi Boulenger, G. A. (1913), p.
564. Holotype BMNH 1946.8.27.2 (formerly
1913.7.28.2), collected at Milparinha [sic =
Milparinka], NSW by P. Schrader.
Pygopus klugei Wells, R. W. and Wellington, C.
R. (1985), p. 16. Holotype AMS field series
28686 (now registered as AMS R116980), 6.2 km
S of Big Warrambool, NSW.
Notes
The holotype specimen is in good condition,
with the colour pattern still readily discernible. It
has an equal development of the orbital and narial
REVISION OF PYGOPUS NIGRICEPS 49
patches, but the interorbital area is only weakly
pigmented. Although very young (SVL 65 mm), it
has distinct low keels on the dorsal scales. There
are 14 preanal pores. Boulenger (1913) gave the
ventral count as only 97 pairs (enlarged scales
only); the ventral count using our (Kluge’s)
method is 109. The characteristics of the type are
completely concordant with the ‘eastern’ species
in the complex.
Wells and Wellington’s (1985) Pygopus klugei
is a junior synonym of P. schraderi. The holotype
specimen has 12 dorsal scale rows with distinct
keels, there are 102 ventrals and the nostril
contacts the first supralabial. There is a complex
colour pattern on head body and tail, including
well developed eye and nostril patches. Wells and
Wellington were clearly influenced by the
purported lack of keeling of the holotype of P.
schraderi, a persistent misapprehension due to the
rudimentary keeling in juveniles, including the
holotype. Two illustrations said by Wells and
Wellington to be P. schraderi (Cogger 1983;
plates 104 and 495) show, respectively, a juvenile
P. nigriceps and an adult P. schraderi.
Diagnosis
A large pygopod (SVL up to 198 mm) having
unicarinate dorsal scale keeling extending over 10
or more rows, dark teardrop-shaped patches under
both the orbits and nostrils, fewer than 120
ventrals, usually 13 or more preanal pores, nostril
always in contact with the first supralabial scale
and often strongly marked body and tail
patterning.
Description
Ventral scales 100-122 (X = 109.4, S=4.9,n=
85); orbital scales 6-13 (XK = 9.87, S = 1.27, n =
85); nostril always in contact with first supralabial
scale (n = 92); preanal pores 11-17 (XK = 13.8, S=
1.4, n = 85); snout-vent length 70-198 mm (X =
142.6, S = 29.4, n = 91); tail length ranges from
99% of SVL for smallest juveniles to 170% of
SVL for the largest specimens; dorsal scale rows
with either weak or moderate keeling, usually
moderate (80%), (X = 1.88, S = 0.28, n = 86)
extending over 9-14 dorsal rows (X = 11.7, S =
1.8, n = 86).
Colouration
In preservative, the scales are pigmented in a
manner similar to P. nigriceps. The background
colour of the head, body and tail can vary from
light tan to dark grey. The head is usually of
mottled appearance. Head patterning is similar to
that of P. nigriceps except that there is no
pigmented band on the dorsal surface of the head
between the orbits, the relative intensities of the
pigmented bands below the orbits and nostrils
are approximately equal and the nuchal band is
frequently indistinct (Fig. 4B). Often, there is a
strongly marked body pattern in the form of a
longitudinal series of light or dark brown
uniformly pigmented scales on the dorsal surface
and upper flanks giving the impression of
discrete broken lines. Many individuals have an
almost continuous stripe along the vertebral line.
On the lower flanks is a similar series of discrete
broken lines caused by a scattering of creamy-
white scales. The tail patterning is in the form of
narrow crossbands (occasionally posteriorly
pointing chevrons converging on the vertebral
line). The body patterning is caused by
individual scales of differing levels of
pigmentation whilst the tail patterning is caused
by scale margin pigmentation. The intensity of
patterning is very variable with many specimens
being strongly marked, others having a light tan
overall colour and a washed-out appearance,
whilst still others are heavily pigmented all over.
Body patterning does not appear to be
geographically correlated. The smallest juveniles
are similar in size and colouration to those of P.
nigriceps. Head patterns are pronounced and are
brown or black. There is no distinct body pattern
and only weak light brown crossbands or
chevrons on the tail. There is weak dorsal scale
keeling.
Colouration in life is shown in photographs in
Wilson and Knowles (1988: Fig. 263), Swan
(1990: p. 47), Ehmann (1992: p. 102).
Distribution
East of 135°E, south of 17°S and west of the
Great Dividing Range in New South Wales and
Victoria (Fig. 3).
Pygopus steelescotti sp. nov.
Holotype
NTM R20546, collected at Cape Crawford, NT
(16°34.3'S, 135°57.9'E) by P. Horner, 1994.
Diagnosis
A large pygopod (SVL up to 185 mm) similar
to P. schraderi except for weaker unicarinate
dorsal scale keeling usually extending over less
than 10 rows and a less complex color pattern,
50 B. H. JAMES, S.C. DONNELLAN & M. N. HUTCHINSON
with a dark orbital patch but no or very weak
nasal patch.
Description
Ventral scales 103-125 (XK = 114.2, S=4.8, n=
43); orbital scales 7-13 (X = 9.86, S = 1.10, n =
43); nostril always in contact with first supralabial
scale (n = 44); preanal pores 12-17 (X = 14.0, S=
1.0, n = 43); snout-vent length 79-185 mm (X =
139.0, S = 24.2, n = 43); tail length ranges from
100% of SVL for smallest juveniles to 152% of
SVL for the largest specimens; dorsal scale rows
keeling either absent or weak, usually weak
(86%), (X = 0.86, S = 0.35, n = 44) extending over
0-13 dorsal rows (X = 7.1, S = 3.46, n = 44).
Colouration
In preservative, the background head, body and
tail colour is light tan to sandy-yellow with
patterns similar to those found on the less heavily
patterned individuals of P. schraderi. There is
often no pigmentation around and below the
nostrils; if it is present it is usually faint in
intensity compared to the teardrop below the
orbits (Fig. 4C). Many specimens are light tan in
colour and have a washed out appearance and,
unlike P. schraderi, there are no strongly
patterned or darkly coloured specimens. The
smallest juveniles are similar to those of P.
schraderi differing only in the head pattern and in
having no (or extremely weak) dorsal scale
keeling. Colouration in life is shown in
photographs in Wilson and Knowles (1988: Fig.
264) and Ehmann (1992: p. 101).
Etymology
The species is named in honour of the late Dr
Colin Steele-Scott, a keen supporter of the South
Australian Museum.
Distribution
North of 22°S in NT, Qld and WA (Fig. 3).
DISCUSSION
When considered as a single species, the
concept of P. nigriceps that existed prior to this
study was of an extremely successful, ecologically
generalised arid zone lizard, adapted to a broad
habitat range. The three species that we now
recognise are each more restricted ecologically, as
well as geographically. Pygopus nigriceps (s.s.) is
primarily a sandy desert species, at least in Central
Australia. Pygopus schraderi occupies a range of
habitats, and while it has been recorded from
sandy terrain (e.g. far eastern S.A.) it is typically
found on rocky hillsides or clayey or stony flats.
Pygopus steelescotti is less well-known with
respect to habitat selection but differs again in
being confined to the wet-dry tropical belt across
northern Australia.
All three species in the complex may be strictly
nocturnal, relatively unusual in pygopods, most of
which engage in significant diurnal activity (Shea
1993). Field experience with both P. nigriceps
and P. schraderi in South Australia indicates that
specimens are only seen actively foraging at night,
and pitfall trapped individuals are taken only
overnight, not by day (M. Hutchinson pers. obs.).
Of the three species, P. nigriceps is the most
easily identified, based on its completely smooth
dorsal scalation, the nostril completely contained
by the nasal, and the high ventral and low preanal
pore counts. By contrast, the other two species are
very similar, exacerbated by the tendency of
geographically proximate populations of P.
schraderi to be the most weakly patterned and
therefore most similar to P. steelescotti. The
similarity of P. schraderi and P. steelescotti is
such that specimens from the potential area of
contact along the southern margin of the wet-dry
tropics in the NT and Qld should be carefully
checked. At present, P. steelescotti seems
consistently identifiable by the lower number of
keeled dorsal scale rows (usually nine or fewer),
weakly developed keeling on dorsal scale rows
and differential development of the dark nasal
(absent or weak) and orbital (moderately well
developed) patches.
Further taxonomic work will be useful to help
in defining the variation and degree of sympatry
of the three dark-headed species of Pygopus.
Taxonomic work is also further warranted on the
northeastern Qld populations of P. lepidopodus.
Based on our samples, the Cooktown specimen
appears to be completely distinct from the more
southerly populations, which themselves show
some heterogeneity in morphology and
electrophoretic markers. The status of the eastern
Australian P. J. squamiceps Gray is yet to be
properly assessed.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
We thank B. Miller for assistance in the initial stages
of this study, C. James, R. Murphy, T. Schwaner for
collection of specimens and J. Armstrong for assistance
with figure preparation.
REVISION OF PYGOPUS NIGRICEPS 51
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Reptiles of Australia’. Collins: Sydney.
52 B. H. JAMES, S.C. DONNELLAN & M. N. HUTCHINSON
APPENDIX
Museum registration numbers for Pygopus specimens
examined. The superscript " denotes specimens which
were used in the electrophoretic study. The superscript *
denotes specimens used in the electrophoretic study
where the body was not available for morphological
analysis. Abbreviations in bold upper case refer to
OTUs designated in the allozyme electrophoresis
analysis. Institutional acronyms (underlined) follow
Leviton et al. (1985) and ABTC = Australian Biological
Tissue Collection, South Australian Museum.
Pygopus nigriceps: AMS R60245-6. NTM CAMRS31,
NTM R30, R157-8, R291-3, R321, R444, R829, R905,
R1427-8, R1630, R2209, R2216, R2356, R2532,
R3228, R3316, R5314, R5907, R6387, R7092, R9530,
R9691-6, R9701, R9703, R9808, R14021,
R15153°(TAN—30 km SW Sangster’s Bore, Tanami
Desert, NT), R17571, R18058, R18079,
R20670°(FIN—Finke Gorge National Park, NT). QM
J28440, J33389. SAMA ABTC6588"*(MAB—Mabel
Creek Station, SA), ABTC31799"*(MAC—MacDonnell
Ranges, NT), ABTC31812(MAC), R600, R876,
R4791, R8116, R12911, R15548, R16279, R16768,
R17459, R19251, R20711°(OLY—Olympic Dam, SA),
R21029/33"(OLY), R21035, R22932-3°(BAR—8 km S
Barradale, WA), R23197°(LAV—134 km ENE
Laverton, WA), R23908°(LAV), R26198-200°(MAB),
R26202°(MAB), R26222°(MAB), R26385, R26646,
R26686°(MAB), R28546°(BOO—near Boologooroo
Homestead, WA), R33824, R34003°(NIN—Ninghan
Homestead, WA), R36152°(YUL—Yulara, NT),
R36169*(YUL), R37139, R38785-6°(TCK—Tennant
Ck, NT), R38824*(TCK), R38841°(GLE—near Glen
Helen, NT ), R42026°(LL—21 km WSW Illintjtja,
SA), R45264, R48608, R48668, R48749, R48765,
R48792, R48830, R48928, R49156, R49310. WAM
R5328, R5329, R13350, R19239, R26071-2, R30930,
R36327, R40238, R52727, R64002, R64704, R69525,
R73631, R73842, R75119, R75143, R79010-1,
R81513, R82599, R83574, R94761, R95028,
R94957°(CAN—Canning Stock Route, WA), R95670,
R102055, R102061, R102063°(YLE—Yule River,
WA), R103677.
Pygopus schraderi: AMS R6691, R8974—-5, R26083,
R65966. NTM R31, R8526. QM J11029, J1266, J2917,
J2918, J5092, J5238, J7282, J7288, 37473, J7489,
J7919, J8008, J8436, J8882, J9116, J9241, J13010,
J13028, J13560, J21444, J21965, J22714, J23319,
J23677, J24988, J25386, J33390, J33391, J33392,
J33393, J33394, J33395, J35362, J37060, J40323,
J40701, J40717, 344420, J44711, 344942, 346952,
J48459, J51198, J51527, J51717, J52546, J52547,
J52778, J52863, J54617, J54618, J54900, J55109,
J57197, J57228, J58079, J5921, J59359, J59931,
J61825. SAMA R2234, R4996, R5051, R5386, R5397,
R5626, R5893, R9860, R11752, R16712,
R23120°(RM1—Mt Remarkable National Park, SA),
R23269"(RM1), R28389°(IRO—25 km NW Iron Knob,
SA), R28927, R30403°(COO—25 km NNW Coober
Pedy, SA), R40948°(MID—Middleback Homestead,
SA), R42131, R42750°(WIN—15 km S Winton, Qld),
R42947°/63°(WID—85 km W Windorah, Qld),
R44808°(COR—Cordillo Downs, SA),
R46247°(ARC—17 km NNE Arckaringa, SA),
R46370°(CAL—Callana Station, SA), R46786,
R48303, R49061, R49087. BMNH 1946.8.27-2.
Pygopus steelescotti: AMS R13233, R17981, R26579,
R80336, R133267. NTM R99, R370, R821, R828,
R830, R2270, R2271, R3790, R4730, R5033, R5280,
R5303, R6423, R6677, R6704, R6777, R11247,
R12416, R20513°(CAP—Cape Crawford, NT),
R20545*-6"(CAP), R20588, R22333. OM J39061,
J52746. SAMA R3510, R8117. WAM R23792,
R56304, R70079, R70085, R70339, R75537-8,
R83195, R83575, R87307, R99201, R101361.
P. lepidopodus: QM J47145*(CTN—Shipton’s Flat,
Qld). SAMA R33291°(SYD—Terry Hills, NSW),
R20865’°(STO—Stony Point, SA), R23629°(RM2—Mt
Remarkable National Park, SA), R25341°(HAM—
Hambidge Conservation Park, SA), R25689°(YAL—
Yalata, SA), R30270°(ESP—Esperance, WA). WAM
R77939°(WAL—Walpole-Nornalup National Park,
WA), R90119°(KAR—Karridale, WA).
OBITUARY PATRICIA MARIETJE THOMAS BSC, MSC AO 13 APRIL 1915
-— 16 DECEMBER 1999
ARCHIE MCARTHUR
Summary
Patricia Marietje Thomas, Pat to her many friends, died peacefully in Adelaide on 16 December,
1999 bringing to an end an outstanding career in parasitology. The elder of two daughters, Pat was
born in Melbourne a year after her famous father, Sir Douglas Mawson, returned from the Antarctic
but while he was in America. Pat was raised and educated in Adelaide, receiving her Batchelor of
Science degree from the University of Adelaide in 1936, and her Masters degree two years later.
She found employment in the Zoology Department as a part-time teacher in practical classes and
researcher under Professor T. Harvey Johnston. After marrying marine biologist Ifor Thomas in
1947, and bearing three sons, Pat returned to academic life in 1950, spending most of it, apart from
a short period overseas, in the Zoology Department until her retirement in 1980.
OBITUARY
PATRICIA MARIETJE THOMAS BSc, MSc, AO
13 April 1915 - 16 December 1999
Pat Thomas at Coolgubbin Camp, Connie Sue Hwy, Great Victoria Desert,
June 1974.
Patricia Marietje Thomas, Pat to her many
friends, died peacefully in Adelaide on 16
December, 1999, bringing to an end an
outstanding career in parasitology. The elder of
two daughters, Pat was born in Melbourne a year
after her famous father, Sir Douglas Mawson,
returned from the Antarctic but while he was in
America. Pat was raised and educated in Adelaide,
receiving her Batchelor of Science degree from
the University of Adelaide in 1936, and her
Masters degree two years later. She found
employment in the Zoology Department as a part-
time teacher in practical classes and researcher
under Professor T. Harvey Johnston. After
marrying marine biologist Ifor Thomas in 1947,
and bearing three sons, Pat returned to academic
life in 1950, spending most of it, apart from a
short period overseas, in the Zoology Department
until her retirement in 1980.
From 1981 until failing health slowed her
down in 1995, Pat transferred her activities to
the South Australian Museum, where, as an
Honorary Curator, she greatly enlarged the
helminth collection to a position of pre-eminence
in Australia, and successfully pressed for its
recognition as the Australian Helminthological
Collection. With this achievement, Pat then
worked to find a successor to herself, to continue
the work, and in 1994 Dr Sylvie Pichelin was
appointed as the first Curator of Helminths. Ian
Beveridge, a younger colleague of Pat’s, has
listed her many professional achievements in
Obituaries, Royal Society of South Australia
(2000).
54 A. McARTHUR
Pat was a worker, a helper, quick-witted and
sharp as a tack, could show kindness and
sensitivity when needed, and abhorred
irresponsibility. In the following, a little about her
personal life has been compiled after talking to
some of her friends.
Philippa Horton (Collection Manager, Birds,
South Australian Museum). ‘I first met Pat
Thomas at Adelaide University in 1974 during
Zoology 1 practical classes for which Pat was a
demonstrator. As a shy student I was in awe of
her wealth of experience and knowledge, and
was somewhat terrified of her forthright and no-
nonsense manner. During one particular class—
the dissection of a rat—a fellow student and I
were having trouble in locating an anatomical
feature. On being called for help, Pat blustered
over, tackled our rat with forceps and scalpel,
and severed one of its arteries. The body cavity
filled with blood, obliterating anything we might
have seen, and rendering the three of us helpless
with laughter. From then on any feelings of terror
vanished and were replaced with warm affection.
One other occasion which stands out in my
memory showed the warmth which was not
always obvious in Pat’s personality. I was
pregnant with my first child and, at morning tea at
the Museum, expressed the hope that it wasn’t
going to be twins. Pat described her own
experience of giving birth to a son only THEN to
find out there was another about to follow. She
would have been thrilled with just one but was
absolutely delighted to have two beautiful babies.
She was filled with maternal love as she spoke
and her words were a great comfort to a new
mother-to-be. Nurturing twins must call upon
extra reserves of physical stamina and strength of
character: I was sure Pat had both in abundance.’
Mrs Anne Hardy, Rostrevor. ‘I began to work
as a technologist in the Zoology Department,
University of Adelaide, for 25 shillings per week
in 1940. Then the Mawsons were living
temporarily in Ruthven Mansions in Pulteney
Street. My job was caring for the fish, newts,
snails etc. used in the study of parasitic flatworms
and often at weekends Pat did it to save me
coming in to feed them.
“When the Department moved to the newly
constructed Benham Building which overlooked
the river on one side and the Jubilee Oval on the
other, Pat had the task of packing the huge
collection of ‘preserves’ (specimens from the two
1929-31 British, Australian, New Zealand
Antarctic Expeditions) a challenge which she
excelled in.
‘Once when the supply of dead rabbits for
dissection turned up at the wrong time, it was
necessary to skin them. Pat’s technique was
magnificent; a body held in one hand appeared to
almost leap out of its fur. During the war, Pat
took up marine biology and often accompanied
groups to Port Willunga to study the reef. Her
organising abilities were meticulous. As the war
ended, undergraduate numbers ballooned out and
the Professor deputed Pat and me, then a post-
graduate student, to give repeat lectures. Pat had
an engaging way with words.
‘Occasionally Professor T. Harvey Johnston
took us collecting near Tailem Bend and on one
occasion, students were allowed to swim off a log
in the river. One of the students got herself heavily
entwined by the long strands of floating weed and
submerged. When her panicky face surfaced, it
was Pat who wrenched her out of danger. Typical
of Pat, on having saved her life, she gave her a
sharp rebuke for having done the wrong thing.
One of my vivid memories was at the Spring
School at the Marine Research establishment at
Cronulla, NSW. Students at the school were
housed a mile or more from the laboratories and
used a bus to go to lectures unless there was a
better offer, which in Pat’s case, there soon was.
As I waited for the bus, a motor bike with the
school’s tutor skilfully tackled the sandy track,
and riding pillion was a passenger with bright red
hair and skirts blowing and a face of blissful
exhilaration as she clutched her future spouse Ifor
Thomas.
‘After her marriage, Pat had developed
domestic enthusiasm. When I returned to teaching
in the 60s and 70s in Zoology demonstration
classes, she had won a shirt ironing contest at the
Royal Adelaide Show, and with typical efficiency,
produced three sons in fifteen months, sewed,
organised and was soon back with her nematodes.
I recall that names suggested for the twins were
Son and MawSon. Later, Pat followed her mother
as President of the Mothers and Babies Health
Association.
‘Pat and I took part in many of the
ornithological excursions, led by Joan Paton, to
the Simpson Desert, the Great Victoria Desert,
Kakadu and many more. On one such, Pat
complained about Rex Ellis’s dog which took a
dislike to her and protected the essential
communal spade from Pat’s urgent grasp.’
Mrs Medindie.
Anne Dow, ‘On an
OBITUARY — PARTICIA MARIETJE THOMAS 55
ornithological excursion to Angorichina with Pat
and Joan Paton, Pat overheard someone
complaining about the food. Anne remembers
Pat’s quick response “ I never complain about
camp food, after all it goes in one end and out the
other”.
‘Around the camp fire Pat had a delightful
singing voice.’
Mrs Elizabeth Simpson, Stonyfell. “The two
Mawson girls and we three Cleland girls were
great friends and spent much of our lives in the
same pursuits. Pat and I were contemporaries at
the University and many were the parties and
excursions which we attended. I knew that if Pat
was in attendance my enjoyment and performance
would be heightened and all would be well.
‘On many occasions in the bush after dinner I
remember Pat with a Tilley lamp dissecting and
searching for helminths. On one of Sir Douglas’
geology excursions crossing a field, Pat and I
noticed a cow giving birth to a calf. Although the
cow was feeding placidly, the calf’s head was
protruding. Blushing hotly, for matters of that
nature were a little taboo those days, Pat and I
approached Sir Douglas and drew his attention to
the phenomenon. Instead of leading the students
in a different direction, he drew everyone’s
attention, in his loudest voice, to the plight of the
cow. A minute later a calf was standing with
wobbly legs alongside mother.
‘Pat was a stimulating companion. She did not
suffer fools gladly, even at times, her best friends.
There were few of us who had not felt her critical
tongue but this in no way detracted from the deep
love and respect we held for her.’
Order of Australia Association, South
Australian Branch Newsletter No 97; In
Memoriam. Awarded AO, Queen’s Birthday
1994, for service to the science of zoology in both
research and teaching and the development of the
Australian Helminthological Collection.
Slim Sommerville (retired zoologist, University
of Adelaide) remembers how driving in the
country with Pat was so appalling because she
insisted on stopping to examine carcasses of dead
animals. He also remembers being invited to
dinner at the Mawson home in 1954. Sir Douglas
sat tall at the head of the table and when kangaroo
tail soup was served, he exclaimed ‘What’s this!
Pll have none of it’. This surprised Slim knowing
of the horrible food on which Sir Douglas had
survived in Antarctica.
Dene Cordes (Department for the
Environment), and Noel Lothian (formerly
Director, Adelaide Botanic Gardens) were
associated with Pat through the Board of the
National Parks Commissioners and the Wildlife
Advisory Council. There she was a particularly
astute member whose lifelong interest in
environmental matters enabled her to contribute
greatly. She was interested in remote areas such as
the Koonalda Caves which she urged should
become a National Park, and this has since been
achieved.
Sylvie Pichelin (Former Curator of Helminths,
South Australian Museum). ‘I first met Pat in
1995—the same day as the interview for the
position of Curator of Helminths at the South
Australian Museum. Both events made quite an
impression on me. Although I had corresponded
with Pat about the Collection, I did not know her
personally. I knew of her impressive publication
record but at the same time had heard tales of
sherry in beakers next to kangaroo guts. I quickly
learnt that Pat liked to call a spade a spade—a
trait that was appreciated and helped me grasp the
size and importance of the Helminth Collection.
Pat was also very kind to me on my first visit and
took me out to a delightful lunch. There are few
like Pat—her death marks the closure of an era of
parasitology in Australia.’
Cath Kemper (Curator of Mammals, South
Australian Museum). ‘Pat was always very
interested in expanding the helminth collection so
when I started to study (and dissect) cetaceans in
the late 1980s she was keen for us to collect
parasites and hand them on to her. Several times
she came out to Bolivar herself and assisted with
dissections. It was great to work with her because
she always “hoed in” and nothing was too much
trouble. I remember one day when she arrived at
Bolivar before us and, not being able to get in and
not wanting to do nothing, she set to work
weeding the patio in front of the kitchen! It looked
lovely and tidy when we arrived. I always had a
great admiration for her because it would not have
been easy to have been a female scientist earlier
in her life. Science was something that men did
and the few women involved were often
considered odd. Pat was able to combine family
and work so was just like everyone else, only
much more determined than most!’
Archie McArthur (Honorary Research
Associate, South Australian Museum). ‘When I
56 A. McARTHUR
started on the ant collection at the Museum it
was Pat who “showed me the ropes”; she always
found time to help me solve problems. She was
often one of the first to start work in the
mornings on the Invertebrate Floor of the Natural
Science Building of the South Australian
Museum, where as an Honorary Research
Associate she built up the biggest collection of
helminths from Australian animals. In addition
to dissecting organs and extracting specimens,
she spent months at a computer, cataloguing this
vast collection. Occasionally, Joan Paton called
in around noon and the three of us had lunch
together in Pat’s lab where she kept a plentiful
supply of sweet vermouth. This she served in
little beakers and even though we knew that the
same beakers had contained a kangaroo’s liver or
a salmon’s gut only minutes before, we
appreciated her generosity and the purifying
effects of alcohol.
“When her father Sir Douglas Mawson was
teaching, Pat was often required as chaperone or
cook on his many field trips. About one such
expedition, Reg Sprigg reminisced in Geology is
Fun (1989) “I relished an experience at the
deserted Old Myrtle Springs Station ruins. We
arrived out of Copley just before sunset. We
carried little in the way of lamps so the race was
on to beat the fading light. Patricia in
commendably practical fashion grabbed a loaf of
bread, placed it on the boards of a weather beaten
and long abandoned old couch and got to work.
Said Mawson “Whatever are you doing there
Pat?” “Cutting the bread. Can’t you see?” “But
Pat, you can never tell what dirty old swagman
has been sleeping on that. We could all get
syphilis.” Pat, never to be panicked, turned her
head and nonchalantly answered, “You don’t get
syphilis through the mouth, Daddy.” Father for
once was stuck for words.’
REFERENCES
BEVERIDGE, I. 2000. Obituary. Patricia Marietje
Thomas, BSc, MSc, AO. 13.iv.1915 — 16.xii.1999.
Transactions of the Royal Society of South Australia
124: 56-60.
SPRIGG, R. 1989. ‘Geology is Fun. Recollections.’
Gillingham: Adelaide. x + 349 pp.
Archie McArthur, Honorary Research Associate, Terrestrial Invertebrate Section, South Australian Museum, North
Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia 5000. Records of the South Australian Museum 34(1): 53-56.
CORRECTED IDENTIFICATIONS AND LECTOTYPE DESIGNATION FOR
POROCHILUS ARGENTEUS (ZIETZ) (OSTEICHTHYES :
SILURIFORMES: PLOTOSIDAE)
PETER J. UNMACK
Summary
Australian plotosid catfishes are poorly understood (Merrick & Scmida 1984; Allen 1989) and,
among other problems, the taxonomy of Porochilus argenteus (Zietz) is confused. The present note
is intended to clarify the identification of the syntypes of P. argenteus and to designate a lectotype.
Museum abbreviations follow Leviton et al. (1985).
CORRECTED IDENTIFICATIONS AND LECTOTYPE DESIGNATION FOR POROCHILUS
ARGENTEUS (ZIETZ) (OSTEICHTHYES: SILURIFORMES: PLOTOSIDAE)
Australian plotosid catfishes are poorly
understood (Merrick & Schmida 1984; Allen
1989) and, among other problems, the taxonomy
of Porochilus argenteus (Zietz) is confused. The
present note is intended to clarify the
identification of the syntypes of P. argenteus and
to designate a lectotype. Museum abbreviations
follow Leviton et al. (1985).
Zietz’s (1896b: 410, Plate 16, Fig. 7)
description of Plotosus (= Porochilus) argenteus
was based primarily on a single, 138 mm syntype
from Cooper Creek near Innamincka, South
Australia. Glover (1976) incorrectly listed this
specimen (SAMA F1090) as the holotype. Zietz
included other specimens but scarcely mentioned
them. The specimen emphasized is clearly P.
argenteus as recognized today by Allen (1989).
Upon re-examination, it fits the description well,
having a concave dorsal profile between snout and
dorsal fin and a smooth inner face of the pectoral
spine. Dorsal-fin ray counts were difficult to
obtain as the fin is in poor condition; pectoral-fin
ray counts were also difficult, although an
approximate value of I-6 was obtained (cf. I-7 in
Zietz [1896b]). It is the only plotosid listed from
the Horn Expedition as ‘type’ in the original
SAMA register. A second syntype, probably
SAMA F1082 (Table 1), was discussed by Zietz
(1896b: 411) as follows: ‘A larger specimen of
about eight inches total length, from Finke River,
Hermannsburg, is of darkish colour; but this is
most likely caused by having been dried
formerly.’ Additional syntypes are not specified,
but localities were listed as Barcoo River, Finke
River at Idracowra, and Palm and Ilpilla creeks,
all in the Northern Territory. Extant syntypes are
shown in Table 1.
Several lines of evidence identify all specimens
except SAMA F1090 as Neosilurus hyrtlii
Steindachner. Specimens of Porochilus argenteus
are generally ligher coloured, whereas N. hyrtlii
are usually dark. Zietz (1896a, b) did not record
N. hyrtlii in other collections of the Horn
Expedition, yet they are clearly present in the
Finke River (Unmack in press). Specimens
examined from the Horn Expedition (BMNH,
NMV, SAMA) all are N. hyrtlii based on the
following characters: convex or straight dorsal
profile; rough inner side of pectoral spine; higher
pectoral-fin ray counts. (Dorsal-fin ray and
pectoral-fin ray counts could not be obtained from
some specimens due to the poor condition of
those fins.) (Table 1). All additional plotosid
specimens examined (AMS, AMNH, BMNH,
NTM, SAMA, NMV, WAM) from Finke River
not associated with the Horn Expedition are N.
hyrtlii. Finally, all SAMA P. argenteus syntypes
(Table 1) were not registered until 1928 and,
except for F1090, had been reidentified before
cataloging as N. hyrtlii. Records of P. argenteus
from the Finke River system (Zietz 1908; Glover
& Sim 1978; Glover 1982; Allen 1989; Glover
1990; Larson & Martin 1990; Davis 1996; Kerle
& Fleming 1996) are thus based on Zietz’s record
or on misidentifications of N. hyrtlii. The single
specimen on which Zietz’s (1896b) description
was largely based (SAMA F1090) is hereby
designated as the lectotype since it is the only
specimen in the type series identified as that
species; all remaining paralectotypes are
reidentified as N. hyrtlii. Porochilus argenteus
does not occur naturally in the Finke River system,
where the only known plotosid is N. hyrtlii
(Unmack in press).
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to all museums and collection staff, especially
T. Sim (SAMA) and to A. C. Gill for examining BMNH
specimens on my behalf. Thanks to W. L. Minckley and
W.N. Eschmeyer for comments on earlier drafts.
REFERENCES
ALLEN, G. R. 1989. ‘Freshwater Fishes of Australia’.
T. F. H. Publications: New Jersey.
DAVIS, J. A. 1996, Aquatic ecosystems in central
Australia: comparison of recent records of fishes and
invertebrates with those of the Horn Expedition. Pp.
282-286 in ‘Exploring Central Australia: Society, the
Environment and the 1894 Horn Expedition’. Eds S.
R. Morton & D. J. Mulvaney. Surrey Beatty & Sons:
Chipping Norton, New South Wales.
GILLBANK, L. & MAROSKE, S. 1996. Behind the
botany of the Horn Expedition: Ferdinand Mueller’s
documentation of the larpintine flora. Pp. 209-224 in
‘Exploring Central Australia: Society, the
Environment and the 1894 Horn Expedition’. Eds. S.
P. J. UNMACK
58
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LECTOTYPE FOR POROCHILUS ARGENTEUS 59
R. Morton & D. J. Mulvaney. Surrey Beatty & Sons:
Chipping Norton, New South Wales.
GLOVER, C. J. M. 1976. Vertebrate type-specimens in
the South Australian Museum. I. Fishes. Records of
the South Australian Museum 17: 169-175.
GLOVER, C. J. M. 1982. Adaptations of fishes in arid
Australia. Pp. 241-246 in ‘Evolution of the Flora
and Fauna of Arid Australia’. Eds W. R. Barker &
P. J. M. Greenslade. Peacock Publications:
Adelaide.
GLOVER, C. J. M. 1990. Fishes. Pp. 189-198 in
‘Natural History of the North-East Deserts’. Eds M.
J. Tyler, C. R. Twidale, M. Davies & C. B. Wells.
Royal Society of South Australia: Adelaide.
GLOVER, C. J. M. & SIM, T. C. 1978. Studies on
Central Australian fish: a progress report. South
Australian Naturalist 52: 35-44.
KERLE, J. A. & FLEMING, M. R. 1996. A history of
vertebrate fauna observations in central Australia:
their value for conservation. Pp. 341-366 in
‘Exploring Central Australia: Society, the
Environment and the 1894 Horn Expedition’. Eds S.
R. Morton & D. J. Mulvaney. Surrey Beatty & Sons:
Chipping Norton, New South Wales.
LARSON, H. K. & MARTIN, K. C. 1990. ‘Freshwater
Fishes of the Northern Territory’. Northern Territory
Museum of Arts and Sciences: Darwin.
LEVITON, A. E., GIBBS, R. H. Jr., HEAL, E. &
DAWSON, C. E. 1985. Standards in herpetology and
ichthyology: Part I. Standard symbolic codes for
institutional resouce collections in herpetology and
ichthyology. Copeia 1985: 802-832.
MERRICK, J. R. & SCHMIDA, G. E. 1984. ‘Australian
Freshwater Fishes: Biology and Management’.
Griffith Press Ltd.: Netley.
UNMACK, P. J. in press. Fish persistence and fluvial
geomorphology in central Australia. Journal of Arid
Environments.
ZIETZ, A. H. C. 1896a. Pisces. Pp. 176-180, pl. 16 in
‘Report on the work of the Horn Scientific
Expedition to Central Australia, Part 2, Zoology.’ Ed.
B. Spencer: London.
ZIETZ, A. H. C. 1896b. Description of an additional
new species of fish from the Finke and Barcoo
Rivers. Pp. 410-411 in ‘Report on the work of the
Horn Scientific Expedition to Central Australia, Part
2, Zoology.’ Ed. B. Spencer: London.
ZIETZ, A. H. C. 1908. A synopsis of the fishes of South
Australia. Part 1. Transactions and Proceedings of
the Royal Society of South Australia. 32: 288-293.
Peter J. UNMACK, Biology Department, Arizona State University, Tempe, AZ 85287-1501, USA,
peter.unmack@asu.edu. Records of the South Australian Museum 34(1): 57-59, 2001. Manuscript received 28
March 2000.
IRIECOJRIDS
SOUTH |
AUSTRALIAN
MUSEUM
VOLUME
MAY 2001
34 PART 1
ISSN 0376-2750
CONTENTS:
37
55
a7,
ARTICLES
M. BAEHR & P. HUDSON
New species and a new genus of the subfamily Pogoninae from South Australia
(Coleoptera: Carabidae).
PA CLARKE
The significance of whales to the Aboriginal people of southern South Australia.
B. H. JAMES, S. C. DONNELLAN & M. N. HUTCHINSON
Taxonomic revision of the Australian lizard Pygopus nigriceps (Squamata: Gekkonoidea).
NOTES
A. McARTHUR
Obituary — Patricia Marietje Thomas
P. J. UNMACK
Corrected identifications and lectotype designation for Porochilus argenteus (Zietz)
(Osteichthyes: Siluriformes: Plotosidae).
Published by the South Australian Museum,
North Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia 5000.
» RECORDS
> OF
SOUTH
AUSTRALIAN
MUSEUM
VOLUME 34 PAIRT 2
DECEMBEIR 2001
A NEW SPECIES OF AUSTRALIAN CANTHYDRUS SHARP WITH A KEY
TO THE AUSTRALIAN SPECIES OF NOTERIDAE (COLEOPTERA)
C. H. S. WATTS
Summary
A new species of Canthydrus, C. ephemeralis sp. nov. from Northern Australia is described and
figured. It is distinguished from the other known Australian Canthydrus, C. bovillae Blackburn,
1889, by size and dorsal colour pattern as well as a number of structural characters. A key to the
genera and species of the Australian Noteridae is included.
A NEW SPECIES OF AUSTRALIAN CANTHYDRUS SHARP WITH A KEY TO THE
AUSTRALIAN SPECIES OF NOTERIDAE (COLEOPTERA)
C. H. S. WATTS
WATTS, C. H. S. 2001. A new species of Australian Canthydrus Sharp with a key to the
Australian species of Noteridae (Coleoptera). Records of the South Australian Museum 34(2):
61-64.
A new species of Canthydrus, C. ephemeralis sp. nov., from Northern Australia is described
and figured. It is distinguished from the other known Australian Canthydrus, C. bovillae
Blackburn, 1889, by size and dorsal colour pattern as well as a number of structural characters.
A key to the genera and species of Australian Noteridae is included.
C. H. S. Watts, South Australian Museum, North Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia, 5000.
Manuscript received 22 November 2000.
Australia has a limited fauna of aquatic beetles
of the family Noteridae consisting of only five
described species in four genera; Canthydrus
Sharp, 1882, Hydrocanthus Say, 1823,
Neohydrocoptus Sato, 1972, and Notomicrus
Sharp, 1882. All are essentially tropical although
Notomicrus tenellus Clark, 1863 occurs in
decreasing numbers down the east coast almost to
the Victorian / South Australian border. Although
all but Neohydrocoptus are extremely streamlined,
they do not inhabit running water as their body
form might suggest, but are found in still water in
swamps, embayments and dams amongst
emergent vegetation. All species are common,
Neohydrocoptus subfasciatus Sharp, 1882, less so
than the others. Most of the species fly readily to
light.
In this paper I describe a distinctive new
Canthydrus which is seasonally common in the
escarpment country of coastal Northern Territory
and adjacent Western Australia. All specimens are
from the collection of the South Australian
Museum.
SYSTEMATICS
KEY TO THE GENERA AND SPECIES OF AUSTRALIAN
NOTERIDAE
(AFTER PEDERZANI 1995)
Fore tibia expanded beyond base of tarsi
and with a strong hooked spur at the outer
apical angle... cc. seeqeesesenssantesesescvenees 2
— Fore tibia not expanded beyond base of
tarsi, with several weak apical spines .. 5
Prosternal process not broader than long,
its apex about 2 to 2.5x as wide as its
breadth between postcoxae; < 3 mm long
CONANYAIUS coscsciscotseiecserssnetascsstizenstosteds 3
— Prosternal process broader than long, its
apex very broad, at least 2.5 to 3x as wide
as its breadth between postcoxae; > 4 mm
long Hyd rocanthu .....c1ccccscesssessceeesees “
Elytron with a pale spot towards apex, as
well as a medial one (Fig. 7), metatarsi
stout (Fig. 3), metatibial spines of equal
length (Fig. 3) .. C. ephemeralis sp. nov.
— Elytron without apical pale spot (Fig. 5),
metatarsi more elongate (Fig. 1), metatibial
spines unequal in length (Fig. 1) ...........
Lavea cage tsuaeanMecnersigaes C. bovillae Blackburn
Uniformly reddish; weak to moderately
impressed row of punctures adjacent to
the suture of the elytron .......... cesses
Ie) OS H. waterhousei Blackburn
— Uniformly black; lacking sutural row of
punctures ...... H. australasiae Wehncke
Lateral margins of metasternal plate not
bordered by a lateral ridge; < 2 mm long
gta}iescdafetecniante Notomicrus tenellus Clark
— Lateral margins of metasternal plate with
a lateral ridge; > 2 mm long...............0++
wets Neohydrocoptus subfasciatus Sharp
Canthydrus ephemeralis new species.
(Figs 3, 4, 6, 7, 9)
Types
Holotype: male: ‘NT 5 km SE Mt Borradaile
stn. 8/10/98 C. Watts’.
62 C.H. S. WATTS
8 9 10
FIGURES 1-10. Canthydrus bovillae; 1, metaleg; 2, tip of elytron (ventral view); 5, habitas drawing; 8, dorsal
view of central lobe of aedeagus; 10, lateral view of central lobe of aedeagus. Canthydrus ephemeralis; 3, metaleg;
4, tip of elytron (ventral view); 6, lateral view of central lobe of aedeagus; 7, habitas drawing; 9, dorsal view of
central lobe of aedeagus.
NEW SPECIES OF AUSTRALIAN CANTHYDRUS 63
Paratypes: 29, ‘NT 5 km SE Mt Borradaile stn.
27.5.99 C. Watts’; 14, ‘NT Mt Borradaile stn.
26.5.99 C. Watts’; 33, ‘NT 1 km W Gubara
Kakadu NP 17.3.98 C. H. S. Watts’; 25, ‘NT
5 km SE Mt Borradaile stn. 8/10/98 C. Watts’; 2,
“6 km SE Mt Borradaile NT 8/10/98 C. Watts’; 5,
‘NT 1 km W Gubara 17/3/98 C. H. S. Watts’; 3,
‘NT 1 km W Gubara Kakadu NP 29/1/99 C.
Watts’; 1, ‘Darwin NT 13.5.63 CW’; 23, ‘W.
AUST. Ck on Phillips Range 16° 53’S, 125° 48’E
4 Oct 1982 B. V. Timms’; 4, ‘W. AUST Dawn
Ck 15° 57’°S, 126° S51’E 5 Oct 1982 B. V.
Timms’. All specimens in the collection of the
South Australian Museum, except for 10 from
1 km west of Gubara which have been deposited
in the Australian National Insect Collection,
Canberra.
Description (number examined, 141)
Habitus. Length, 2.5-2.9 mm long. Elongate
oval, deep bodied, moderately accumulate behind;
shiny black, labrum and sides of pronotum
testaceous, elytron with two yellow/white lateral
spots, one in the middle, the other three-quarters
the way to the apex (Fig. 7), appendages dark
testaceous.
Dorsal surface. Smooth, virtually impunctate
except for serial punctures which are traceable but
weak, covered with fine reticulation, meshes
small, regular, much smaller than eye facet. Head
relatively broad, eyes large, antennae relatively
short, segments 8 to 10 somewhat thicker, apical
segment twice the length of penultimate.
Pronotum with thin well-impressed line a little
behind anterior margin, weaker towards sides,
lateral margin with somewhat more strongly
impressed line delineating a distinct beading.
Elytron with well-marked lateral flange/beading.
Ventral surface. Smooth, virtually impunctate,
covered with fine reticulation similar to dorsal
surface. Apical segment of labial palpus large,
oval, bifid at tip. Pronotal process wide, flat,
strongly setose, lateral margins weakly beaded,
approximately parallel-sided, narrower between
procoxae, hind angles extended. Elytron epipleura
very broad in anterior quarter, then rapidly
narrowing, very narrow in apical half, absent near
tip; apical ligula a smooth curve (Fig. 4). Raised
midsection of meso- and metasterna broad, flat,
widening towards rear, hind edge strongly
concave, outer hind angle with three to four strong
setae, covered with strong setae similar to those
on pronotal process. Protibia with strong spine,
approximately half length of tibia. Metaleg stout,
apical spines on metatibia equal in length (Fig. 3).
Hind margins of ventrites with row of setae,
stronger laterally.
Male. External characters as for female. Central
lobe of aedeagus with the apical ‘overturn’ which
covers a broad medial groove less than half total
length of lobe (Figs 6, 9).
Remarks
Canthydrus ephemeralis is most readily
separated from C. bovillae Blackburn, 1889 by its
smaller size (2.5-2.9 mm long against 2.9—
3.4mm) and dorsal colour pattern. Canthydrus
bovillae, in general, is less strongly coloured with
some specimens nearly completely black
(identification from descriptions and specimens
identified by Blackburn in the South Australian
Museum). Well-coloured specimens (Fig. 5) differ
from C. ephemeralis (Fig. 7) in having the front
of the head testaceous rather than dark; the
testaceous areas at the sides of the pronotum are
restricted to the front, whereas in C. ephemeralis
they extend along the whole side; two light-
coloured areas at the base of the elytra (often
indistinct) are lacking in C. ephemeralis; the
absence of a subapical spot on the elytron which
is present in C. ephemeralis (both species have a
light coloured lateral spot in about the middle of
the elytron). Other differences between the two
species are: the shape of the ligula near the apex
of the elytra—it has a pronounced indentation in
C. bovillae (Fig. 2) which is lacking in C.
ephemeralis (Fig. 4); the hind legs in C.
ephemeralis (Fig. 3) are more robust than those of
C. bovillae (Fig. 1); the metatibial spines in C.
ephemeralis are of equal length (Fig. 3) whereas
the inner one is longer in C. bovillae (Fig. 1); the
meso-metasternal central plate is a bit broader in
C. bovillae; the central lobe of the aedeagus has
the medial groove covered for most of its length
(Figs 8, 10) rather than about half as in C.
ephemeralis (Figs 6, 9).
Distribution
Known only from the localities listed above
under Types.
Habitat
All the collections of C. ephemeralis where the
habitat details are known have been from small,
temporary, wet-season, low gradient streams
flowing off escarpments in the coastal Northern
Territory and northern Western Australia. The
substrate of these streams is clean sand or rock
with accumulations of dead leaves and other
debris in places. The adults forage in the open
64 C.H.S. WATTS
sandy areas, at times in areas that may have water
only after rain and are dry a few hours later. In
contrast, C. bovillae lives in the more permanent
flood-plain billabongs and is not found in the
seasonal streams of the escarpment.
Etymology
In reference to its ephemeral appearance in
streams that only flow during the wet season.
REFERENCES
BLACKBURN, T. 1889. Notes on Australian
Coleoptera, with descriptions of new species.
Proceedings of the Linnean Society of New South
Wales IV: 445-482.
PEDERZANI, F. 1995. Keys to the identification of the
genera and subgenera of adult Dytiscidae (sensu lato)
of the world (Coleoptera; Dytiscidae). Atti
Dell’Accademia Roveretana Degli Agiati, a. 244
series VII, volume IV, B, pp. 5-83.
TIMBU WARA FIGURES FROM PANGIA, PAPUA NEW GUINEA
PAMELA J. STEWART & ANDREW STRATHERN
Summary
This paper discusses wickerwork figures known as Timbu Wara, formerly made in the Pangia area
of the Southern Highlands Province of Papua New Guinea. The paper sets the historical context of
the described figures. The figures were associated with a fertility cult periodically celebrated with
large sacrifices of pigs. Wickerwork figures of this same general kind are known also from the
neighbouring Kewa and Enga areas. After the cult was abandoned in the 1960s people began
making the figures for sale to tourists.
TIMBU WARA FIGURES FROM PANGIA, PAPUA NEW GUINEA
PAMELA J. STEWART & ANDREW STRATHERN
STEWART, P. J. & STRATHERN, A. 2001. Timbu Wara figures from Pangia, Papua New
Guinea. Records of the South Australian Museum 34(2): 65-77.
This paper discusses wickerwork figures known as Timbu Wara, formerly made in the
Pangia area of the Southern Highlands Province of Papua New Guinea. The paper sets the
historical context of the described figures. The figures were associated with a fertility cult
periodically celebrated with large sacrifices of pigs. Wickerwork figures of this same general
kind are known also from the neighbouring Kewa and Enga areas. After the cult was abandoned
in the 1960s people began making the figures for sale to tourists.
P. J. Stewart (Research Associate) & A. Strathern (Mellon Professor), Department of
Anthropology, University of Pittsburgh, PA, USA 15260 [Pamjan+@pitt.edu]. Manuscript
received 18 April 2001.
INTRODUCTION
The wickerwork ritual objects that we describe
here were manufactured in the Pangia area of the
Southern Highlands Province of Papua New
Guinea (Fig. 1). The name Pangia was originally
given to a single small locality south of Mount
Jalibu in the Wiru language area. The Wiru
language is related to a set of neighbouring
languages in the Highlands which includes those
of the Enga, Huli, Mendi and Kewa peoples
(Wurm 1964). Among these languages, Wiru
appears as a Family-level isolate, less closely
related to the others than they are related among
themselves (Wurm & Hattori 1982).
The first non-New Guinean outsiders to go
through the wider area were the gold mining
prospectors, Michael and Danny Leahy, during the
1930s. In the late 1950s government officers
selected Pangia for their station after the first
patrol outward from Ialibu. Catholic and Lutheran
missionaries arrived shortly thereafter and set up
stations at Yaraparoi and Tiripini in the close
vicinity of the Pangia government station. Other
missions followed—the Evangelical Bible
Mission (at Mele) and the Wesleyans (at Takuru).
Also, a linguist with the Summer Institute of
Linguistics, Harland Kerr, came to live in the area
at Poloko (Borona) where he studied the language
and social practices of the people (Kerr 1975).
Relatively little has been published about the
Pangia people. Jeffrey Clark, who worked in
Takuru village, has written a number of articles
about the impact of colonialism and Christianity
on the people and his book Steel to Stone, which
brings together and synthesizes the content of
these articles, has been posthumously published
(2000). (For further materials on the Wiru see
Strathern & Stewart 1999a, 1999b, 2000; Stewart
& Strathern 1999a, n.d.).
The Wiru are horticulturalists and pig-keepers
and their staple crop is the sweet potato. The area
has little primary forest and is mostly grassland
and regrowth, dotted by limestone outcropping
and sinkholes. This landscape has figured greatly
in local notions of sorcery and spirit beings that
were thought to live around settlements (Stewart
& Strathern 1999b). In the past, long houses were
built, through the initiative of male leaders, for
important pig-kill ceremonies (Strathern &
Stewart 1999a).
Pangia is encircled on three sides by mountain
ranges. During the 1960s and much of the 1970s,
travel into and out of the area was difficult. This
remained so until the building of the Ialibu—
Pangia road during the 1970s. Further, the Wiru
traditionally had only minor trading and exchange
links with non-Wiru peoples. Thus the impact of
the colonial government and Christian
missionaries was more extreme in a number of
ways than in other regions where there had been
more historical contact and interaction with other
Papua New Guineans (Clark 2000; Strathern
1984; Stewart & Strathern n.d.). In particular,
colonial control came to Pangia late, some 30
years after first contact in areas to the north such
as Jalibu and Hagen, and the Administration
attempted to bring about a swift set of social
transformations and bring to the area the same
‘developments’ as were established elsewhere.
P. J. STEWART & A. STRATHERN
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TIMBU WARA FIGURES, PAPUA NEW GUINEA 67
Prior to 1960, the Wiru had little experience in
interacting with the colonial power. Non-New
Guinean outsiders were said to have perhaps come
from rivers (uele nekenea) because of their white
color; hence their resemblance to spirit beings
known to the Wiru people already. They were also
referred to as ‘red men’ and ‘spirits from the sky’.
Non-New Guinean outsiders were seen as
desirable and powerful entities since they were
thought to have abundant wealth items. One way
in which the Wiru adjusted to their presence was
to make them feel, to some extent, as though they
were insiders, thereby ‘domesticating’ them into
the local transactional framework. They were
identified as the wealth people, the people with
possessions, as elsewhere in the Highlands also.
This engendered a desire in the Wiru to obtain
these possessions by whatever trading means were
accessible to them. But the colonial powers had
an agenda of ‘development’ that was not in
harmony with the ‘traditional’ means of sociality
familiar to the Wiru.
The colonial administration required people to
work as labourers on road projects and
government buildings and to seek permission to
hold pig-kills which might disrupt road work
schedules. There was a great push to bring Pangia
up to the ‘development’ level of other, longer-
contacted areas of the Highlands. Thus the
Administration reduced the time that the people
had to adjust to these outside pressures which had
come into their lives. Since the missions had come
into the area on the back of the colonial
government, the Wiru in some ways conflated the
two and their expectations of what would
eventually be obtained by participating in
‘development’ projects and mission activities was
very great indeed, escalating with every passing
year.
Initially, the Administration regarded various
‘traditional’ practices as a hindrance to
‘development’ in the area and some of the
missions labelled ‘traditional’ cult practices as
satanic. This was particularly true of the
Evangelical Bible Mission and the Wesleyans.
The Wiru had accepted Christianity into their
pantheon of cults as a powerful new practice that
might assist them in obtaining the good health
and wealth that they thought the non-New
Guinean outsiders possessed. Christian missions
did bring schools into the area, which many even
today remember as a positive change. In 1999, a
middle-aged Pangia man from Wiliame village
told us that he had appreciative memories of the
missionaries, saying that ‘they brought schools,
roads and teaching about hygiene’ which he felt
allowed him to have a better life and his children
to become educated and earn money.
But some missionary workers, notably
indigenous evangelists, also ordered the smashing
of cult stones and the burning of cult houses—a
practice also followed in other areas of the
Southern Highlands such as among the Duna
(Strathem & Stewart 1998; Stewart & Strathern
2000). Before the coming of the missions, the
Wiru held pig-kills in association with a number
of religious cults: Timbu, Tapa and Aroa Ipono
(Strathern & Stewart 1999b; Stewart & Strathern
1999a). These cults all aimed at bringing health
and fertility to the people and involved the
construction of specific ritual objects and
buildings. The Tapa cult centered on ancestral
stones belonging to subgroups in each settlement
area, and had to do with sacrifices of pigs made
on occasions of sickness. The Aroa Ipono
belonged to a widely spread complex of such cult
forms, also found in the Western Highlands
Province.
THE TiMBU CULT
The Timbu cult involved the construction of a
specific cult house, which contained a central post
(tungi) onto which were attached the shoulder and
jaw bones of many pigs that had been killed over
the years prior to the culmination of the festival.
The cult’s cycle of enactment was approximately
five to eight years, ending with a great feast in
which hundreds of pigs, the raising of which
involved innumerable hours of female labor,
would be killed. Prior to the pig-kill and
ceremonial exchange marking the end of the cult
cycle, the cult participants would dance around
the tungi post holding the timbu wara.
Subsequently, the tungi post would be taken out
from the cult house to the ceremonial ground
where the pig-kill and ceremonial exchanges took
place. This would be in the area of a main village
(tumbea ta) where cult houses of various kinds
were located.
The Timbu cult was aimed at restoring
ecological balance and fertility to humans, pigs
and the land. The cult looked outward and brought
together clans from other neighbouring districts,
reinforcing continued exchange relations. It also
may have functioned to redress exchange
imbalances and outstanding debts that arose from
warfare deaths (Dosedla 1984). The term timbu
means ‘sky’, so the cult may have had a
68 P. J. STEWART & A. STRATHERN
connection also with mythical Sky Beings who
are seen aS important in other Highlands
cosmologies. A comparable cult complex known
as Timp is found in the Mendi area (Lederman
1986).
The cult involved various male age and status
grades. Prior to the cult’s culminating pig-kill, the
participants would receive lengths of sugar cane
that demarcated the quantity of pork they would
subsequently receive. Although only males were
allowed into the cult house, females participated
in the production of the foodstuffs for the festival
and the pigs for the feast. They also had the highly
significant role of carrying back to their respective
settlements the pork received at the ceremonial
distribution.
Central to the whole process by which a Timbu
performance was organised was the sacrifice of
large numbers of pigs over a period of time, so as
to provide bones to festoon the central pole.
Informants agreed that marsupial bones would
also be attached to the pole; some declared that
the bones of rats and eels were also used. There
were probably local variations in this regard. The
overall purpose was clearly to show how many
animals had been sacrificed to the spirit. When
the pole was covered with bones, it was said that
‘it is ripe’ (nondokako), that is ready for the
climactic phase of the cult. Men and boys were
the ones who entered the tall house in which the
‘bones pole’ was kept. Older men were in an inner
circle, with younger men at their back. A ritual
specialist made spells for health and fertility,
which were said to come up from his stomach, his
tepe. For each cult house there was a single leader
who held the knowledge of these spells and was
therefore said to be the man in charge of the cult
site (yopikango). Such a position of leadership
and knowledge might be passed from father to
son. But the knowledge could also be passed on
between specific lines of descent within the larger
residential complex of the settlement.
Joint participation in the cult was a mark of
unity; separate performances later would mark
social processes of differentiation over time. Two
performances might be held in the same place,
then a shift would occur. Clearly the Timbu
represented the ongoing social life of a named
group and its diachronic extension and alteration.
The exclusion of women and young children
from the inner cult area does not mean that the
Timbu was an exclusive ‘men’s cult’. The whole
purpose of concealing the post and festooning it
with bones was so it could be brought out later
and displayed to the community at large, when the
final dance for the ‘coming out’ of the pole was
staged. One senior informant said that ‘after this
the young men could find wives for themselves’.
The parts of pigs that were taken inside the cult
house for consumption were the tail-joints
(regularly used in ritual contexts elsewhere in the
Highlands, such as among the Duna of the Lake
Kopiago area) and the sides. The inner parts,
including the entrails, and the heads of the pigs
were given to the women to eat. A woman would
dance up to a ‘fence’ and hold up a pig to be
killed. The men rushed at it calling out and
clubbing it as it squealed. The women then stood
at the fence and received their portions of the pig
to cook. When the ‘bones pole’ was finally buried
at the end of the performance, both men and
women were said to have participated in this final
ritual act.
The Timbu spirit was said to be male—ali, ‘a
man’. The bringing out of the pole was therefore
like the bringing out of a male initiate from a
condition of secrecy into one of display. Prior to
this moment of display in the ritual process,
women and children should not see the pole
because if they did so, their legs, arms and vaginas
would suffer from sores described as ‘scabies’.
That is, if they saw the Timbu when it was
‘unripe’, the result would be the opposite of the
effect of showing the spirit to them when it was
‘ripe’, like a mature, healthy man.
The Timbu also presided over marsupials. If
hunters failed to find marsupials in the forest they
would attribute this to the spirit. Hence the point
of hanging trophies on the pole as a sign of
hunting success—these were both a return to the
spirit for granting access to the game and a
demonstration to the community of this access.
The spirit was said to dislike pigs’ heads
because pigs spoil people’s gardens. If the Timbu
saw pigs’ heads it too would spoil gardens in the
same way, it was declared. We see here a sign of
the latent aggressiveness believed to be inherent
in the spirit.
Other taboos were observed. The participants
made small flutes and blew these to warn women
and children not to look when cult paraphernalia
were being carried into the house. The flutes were
blown also when pork was cooked and divided
out in the cult place, to prevent sickness in people
and pigs. These flute sounds were said to imitate
the calls of two marsupials known as tekelepo and
wapenge, which came ‘along with the Timbu cult
itself’, it was said. The marsupials’ call of tu-li,
tu-li inspired the flute-blowers to imitate them.
The spirit’s connection with the forest and its
TIMBU WARA FIGURES, PAPUA NEW GUINEA 69
game is reaffirmed in this detail, while the act of
blowing the flutes links the cult to a wide
spectrum of such practices in the Highlands region
as a whole.
Finally, the cult’s forest associations are shown
in the practice of roofing the cult house with wild
pandanus leaves and black palm thatch, into
which pig bones were pushed. White and rusty
brown forest leaves were used to decorate the
house; these also appear as decorations on houses
for spirit cults in the Hagen area north of Pangia.
We are dealing here with the fluid transmission of
cult elements from place to place, in which forest
associations are a constant feature.
After the performance was over, the pole and
all pig bones were carefully buried. At the burial
site the participants planted a kendo, a cordyline
shrub, as a long-lasting marker, surrounding the
shrub with boards. (This would make them like
the pokla mbo which marked moka events in the
Hagen area.) It seems likely that the kendo marked
the place where the spirit and its power was now
located in a dormant mode. The actual dance for
the culmination of the ritual activities also
involved wearing tall cordyline sprigs as bustles
at the back. Pairs of men danced facing each other
with their bustles bouncing at their backs, singing
songs to the Timbu. The dance was called polo
pendeko, ‘the bending dance’. Men cut a
pandanus leaf and blew musical notes on it as
they performed it.
The timbu wara wickerwork figures which are
the focus of this paper were made to be worn on
the heads of the male dancers who participated in
the climactic phase of the cult. We quote here
initially two statements in 1967 by senior
knowledgeable male informants of two different
settlement areas in the southern part of the Wiru
speaking area:
We make a figure of a man with rope and
decorate it. When we kill the pigs we carry it on
our heads. We put tall cordyline sprigs in our
rear bustles and we carry bows and arrows.
(Longai of Tunda village)
We made a wara, like a man, and placed it on
our heads. This was a good custom; it was our
own. If this figure was not made, pigs, men,
women, and children would all become sick. We
killed a pig [as a sacrifice before constructing
the figures] and we made a ‘picture’ [yomini in
Wiru] of the spirit. One special kind of rope and
one special liana were used to make the wara
and we carried them on our heads at the time of
cooking pigs. Women could not hold these wara,
only men and their sons ...[After the
performance was over] some wara were buried,
but some were kept. Out of fifteen, maybe ten
were buried but five were kept. For the next
performance we made new ones and finally
buried the remaining old ones. But now all the
wara have been thrown away. The Lutheran
Mission men cut up the wara with their axes.
(Kuluwa of Marapini village)
Another old ritual expert noted:
In the past we made gardens of taro, bananas,
sweet potato, and they all grew big. Now that we
have given up the Timbu our crops are small. In
the past pigs and men were large because of the
Timbu. Now they are small. (Wipai of Tunda
village)
In spite of this tone of regret, shared by many
others at the time, the Timbu cult had vanished
from the Wiru area by 1967. In several instances
it was reported that the yopikango of the cult had
himself turned in its sacred stones to the missions
or had declared that it would not be performed
again. Since he was the authorized expert for the
group, his decision could not be challenged. Such
men were afraid of the messages of Hell and sin
that the missions brought with them. When asked
if the people could themselves have cut up the
wara and destroyed them, informants
unequivocally said ‘No, we could not have done
this, because we were sorry (ela toka) for the
wara.’
In Tunda village in 1967, an effort was made to
collect a number of these wickerwork figures used
in the Timbu. Tunda village had a road into it,
making access somewhat easier although the road
was often barely passable to vehicles. The people
were converted to the Lutheran and Catholic
forms of Christianity, and the settlement itself was
artificially structured through the actions of the
government bringing previously separate small
settlements together (Strathern 1984; Stewart &
Strathern n.d.). Tunda was, however, a traditional
tumbea ta or ‘big place’, functioning as a ritual
and political centre for surrounding hamlets. Some
villagers at this time still possessed the knowledge
of how to make the wickerwork figures called
timbu wara, even though the Timbu cult was no
longer practised.
The Lutheran Mission in the area was very
active, as was the Catholic mission. Tunda was
divided between these two. Hageners from the
Western Highlands were working with the
Lutherans at this time, and these Hageners
boasted that they were involved in removing the
ritual cults of the local people. But the actual
time period since the arrival of Christianity, and
the changes associated with it, was short; thus,
70 P. J. STEWART & A. STRATHERN
the people still retained a great deal of
knowledge about previous religious activities
such as the Timbu cult, although they were
sometimes reluctant to discuss these in any
detail.
THE TimBu WaRA AND CHRISTIAN MISSIONS
Timbu wara (‘the spears of the Timbu spirit’)
were very striking wickerwork figures known
from only a few areas of the Southern Highlands.
As indicated above, these figures were made
specifically for a particular cult performance and
then buried or allowed naturally to decay. They
would not have been kept indefinitely, so there
were no heirloom examples that one could
purchase for a museum collection. Even if some
had been retained in the past, the missionaries had
ordered the people to destroy or burn any
remaining items from their pre-Christian religious
practices. Therefore, a request had to be made to
the people to manufacture some of these figures
for a collection to be sent to the Museum of
Archaeology and Anthropology at the University
of Cambridge.
Several local youths agreed to make them for a
set fee. They were sons of men who had the right
to wear such items in the past and there was no
bar to learning from their fathers how to make
them. In the past, these items were not made by
the ritual experts, whose power lay in their
knowledge of spells for the cult.
When the completed figures were presented
they were placed vertically on top of the heads
of the craftsmen to show how they had been
worn in their ritual context. They were shaped
like a human figure but they represented the
Timbu spirit. At the time of presenting the
figures, their makers carried them in this
displayed manner through the village, which was
close by a government road. At the moment that
this parade was occurring, a local fundamentalist
missionary from the Evangelical Bible Mission
at Mele was walking along the road from
Mamuane village, where he wanted to set up a
mission station. The missionary’s baggage
carriers pointed at the men with the timbu wara
figures and began to yell out, ‘Satan, Satan,
Satan figures are coming!’ They were told that
these were not Satan figures but rather artifacts
that were commissioned to be made for a
collection and not for any religious purpose, but
these men were very afraid and went off. The
missionary himself was rather upset and also
went off without any further discussion of the
objects.
Ironically, this missionary later did
subsequently set up a church in Mamuane village
with the stated aim of bringing into congruence
Christian ideology and aspects of indigenous
culture. But in the course of doing this it was
reported that he made a number of transactions in
which the people felt they had not obtained
enough in return for services rendered and they
took revenge by burning the mission station down,
forcing the missionary to leave.
The timbu wara figures were, as we have noted,
objects made to celebrate the action of dancing
for the Timbu spirit during the cult performance.
The central ritual objects of the cult were items
(which could include, for example, a tree fungus
which was hard and stone-like and was called
timbu kapa) that were kept in the specially
constructed cult house, and pigs were sacrificed to
these items. One of the senior men, who had
himself been a custodian of the cult, explained
further some of the ritual actions that were
performed:
Inside the house they dug a hole and they made
man [magical spells] over it. They used a pearl
shell to scoop out this hole, speaking a spell
over it also. Inside the cult house they planted
tree saplings. They killed pigs and filled blood
from them into a bamboo tube. They also took
tree oil and poured it along with the blood into
the hole. They took a special leaf, timbu
yombolu, and buried it in the hole with the oil
and blood. For every action they made a special
man, including the house-building. When we had
killed the pigs we made a special net bag,
tetaleme ka, like a woman’s net bag, made from
rope, which we carried outside. The axes we
used to cut this rope in the bush and to cut the
wood for the house were all bespelled in
advance. We used four different sorts of wood
for the actual pole on which we hung the pigs’
bones and also the bones of eels and marsupials.
These woods were tungi, lepa, walea, and
pokota, (Kuluwa of Marapini village)
This quotation gives some idea of the
complexity and diversity of the ritual acts
performed inside the cult house. The action of
giving tree oil to the ground also parallels the
Hagen male spirit cult sequence in which
Campnosperma oil is poured into the ‘spirit’s eye’
(see Stewart & Strathern 2001: 99-112). The wara
in a sense marked the successful performance of
these other acts: the creation of the spirit as ‘a
man’ (ali), representing the regeneration or
revivification of the community itself. The fact
TIMBU WARA FIGURES, PAPUA NEW GUINEA 71
that wara figures, like the ‘bones pole’, were all
buried does not mean that they were casually
discarded. Burying items in the ground is a way of
preserving and containing their force, as is
abundantly testified from all over the Highlands.
Since the pole was buried at a site where a kendo
or cordyline was planted as a marker of group
identity, we may reasonably suppose that the wara
FIGURE 2. These two boys are displaying decorations they have been involved in making to demonstrate the
methods of manufacture of timbu wara. The boy on the left wears one figure attached to his head and holds another
in his hand. The boy on the right wears an alipo wig with a set of bird plumes mounted on bamboo pieces above it
as a headdress. The alipo wig style belongs especially to the Ialibu area north of Pangia. The house in the
background is a newly made house for cooking food, beside a large dwelling house.
72 P. J. STEWART & A. STRATHERN
were buried in the same place. Elsewhere in the
Highlands, ritual items were left to decay or were
buried, for example the gerua boards or painted
plaques found from the Wahgi area eastwards to
the Siane (O’Hanlon 1989: 102ff.).
At this historical moment, in the 1960s, the
FIGURE 3. A close-up of the timbu wara figures.
fundamentalist Christians from one of the
missions were saying that these timbu wara
objects were ‘satanic’ and should be destroyed.
But the Lutherans and Catholics of the village
were not making this a particular issue. The
Catholic priests of the Capuchin order in the area
TIMBU WARA FIGURES, PAPUA NEW GUINEA 73
had even used these objects to decorate their own THE TIMBU FIGURES
houses and encouraged people to make them as
tourist objects so as to obtain some income. By Figures 2—4 show the designs of the two figures
suggesting the objects be used as tourist items that were constructed for sale in 1967 in Tunda
they were also deflecting the people away from village. The two boys were those assigned to carry
associating them with the ritual itself. the objects and who had been involved in their
: : es : . i ~
FIGURE 4. Rear view of the timbu wara figure attached to the bast lining of an alipo wig, along with feather
decorations mounted on rattan.
74 P. J. STEWART & A. STRATHERN
making. Both figures were flat constructions with
protrusions representing arms and legs; they were
coloured with earth pigments. One also had a
rudimentary head on which a headdress was
mounted. This figure had a central strip of white
running from its head to its genital area. It is likely
that this strip marked the presence of vital
‘grease’, of fluid in the body. The second figure
had a softwood plaque marked alternately in dark
and light colours to resemble the pearl shell
omament hung on the body. It may be thought to
have signified the idea of the body as wealth, a
significant notion in Pangia. It may also have
represented a notched horbill beak, a favourite
design also painted on men’s noses at pig-kills
(kaila timini is the name of this design); each of
the timbu wara in the South Australian Museum
(A.66227, -8) has a real hornbill beak attached as
the head (Figure 5).
COMPARATIVE MATERIALS
The timbu wara figures are one of a category of
objects that are found also in other areas of New
Guinea. Heinz Dosedla (1984) has written a
review article on this category of woven figures
that are made from flexible materials. He
discusses items from the Southern Highlands
Province, including the Enga, Kewa and Wiru
peoples. His classification, based on a survey of
the literature available to him, includes a set of
figures that are in the shapes of animals, 100-
180 cm in length and decorated with earth
pigments; and a second set of anthropomorphic
figures, 60-90 cm in height, unpainted, and with
an enclosed cavity. For both types, a spiral
weaving technique was used in their manufacture,
in which plant materials were bent and wound
around a supporting frame that was made from
stiffer materials, such as bark rope in some
instances.
Dosedla states that among the East Kewa of the
Kagua District, who had trading relations with
both the Enga and Wiru peoples, the woven
figures were significant in the cult known as
Rimbu, which ensured fertility through sacrifices
to the dead. The cult included the use of flat
woven figures whose construction had been
supervised by special ritual experts. These figures
resembled those that the Wiru used, but these
Kewa figures were in the shape of animals and
they were worn by dancers on their lower chests.
The figures were said to represent spirits of dead
FIGURE 5. Two Timbu wara figures in the South Australian Museum (A.66227, -8), each with hornbill beak
attached. Purchased from Stephen Kellner of Sydney in 1977. Kellner purchased from a private collector c.1972.
Photo courtesy South Australian Museum.
TIMBU WARA FIGURES, PAPUA NEW GUINEA 75
members of the clan. The East Kewa Rimbu cult
also employed the second category of woven
figures—the hollow anthropomorphic ones—
which were used as freestanding figures in
conjunction with cult stones.
The Rimbu cult festival developed over a
number of years with several stages of activity
and involved two separate groups of men, the
‘red’ and the ‘black’ sections. These two colours
are symbolically associated elsewhere in the
Highlands with dualistic schemes of classification.
The ‘red’ group took control of the
anthropomorphic figures and the cult stones,
while the ‘black’ group took control of the
animal-shaped figures. The latter were displayed
and carried at the end of the ritual by cult
participants.
Dosedla also describes wickerwork figures from
the Enga area. One type called yupin was kept in a
special spirit house (yainanda, war house) along
with cult stones. The yupin figure, seen as ‘male’
and marked by its prominent genitals, was thought
to have intercourse with the rounded cult stones,
bringing fertility to the land, pigs and humans.
(See Wiessner & Tumu 1998: 199, 204, 207 for
further details on Enga yupin or yupini figures.)
Neich (1976) provides a valuable survey of
yupin figures derived from information provided
by an Apostolic Church missionary, H. M. Reah,
who lived in the Yandapu Enga area for some ten
years in the 1960s and 1970s. Reah’s account
indicates that these figures were considered very
powerful; that they were appealed to in times of
drought; that their keepers would ntually place
them on top of round flat female stones with holes
in the centre; and that groups tended to have their
own yupin figures. But several groups might come
together on an inter-local basis to ask the yupin
for health and prosperity in times of sickness.
Neich says that yupin figures had to be made
from special vines (as was true for the timbu wara
also); that their manufacture was commissioned
and the maker rewarded handsomely with shells
and axes; and that women and children were not
allowed to see them. If a woman saw one, her
next child would be born deformed. If a child saw
one, he or she would fail to grow.
Here, the logic of time reversal was operating.
Seen ‘out of time’, the yupin would harm, not
help, the community. Most valuably, Neich
provides information from a number of Enga
areas, including those that are closer to the Kewa,
on variant designs and names of yupin. One was
from Margarima and was said to represent
Tatagali-Wabe or Tali-eli, a major spirit appealed
to when gardens did not grow well. It is
interesting to note that this is the name Glasse
gave to a supreme spirit among the Huli people
(Glasse 1965). The name yupin itself may mean
‘root or base man’, that is ‘the source of things’.
All yupin figures are cylindrical, with a hollow
area inside of them, in contrast with the flat timbu
wara. While the Enga yupin practices and ideas
are clearly cognate with the Wiru wara customs,
the Wiru obviously developed their own ways of
thinking about these objects.
Dosedla also briefly describes the Wiru timbu
wara figures, which he says were painted with
concentric rings of white and yellow with a
background of red ochre. Such concentric rings
are a significant motif for the Wiru. They appear
on decorations women made around their navels
for dances and in the bands of earth colours
painted around the Female Spirit (Aroa Ipono)
cult stones (Strathern & Stewart 1999b). He notes
that they appeared only as the flat type, and not as
animal but anthropomorphic forms. He suggests
that the Wiru merged two types (the one seen in
the East Kewa Rimbu cult and the other from the
Enga area) into one type; that is, the Wiru figures
were flat, not three-dimensional, but represented
humans, not animals.
RITUAL AND CHANGE
As Dosedla points out, the Wiru timbu wara
figures belong to a wider geographical area in
which similar figures were made for cult contexts.
Dosedla traces the provenance of these figures
and analyses their distribution in cultural—
geographical terms. For our purposes here, it is
important to ask how the Wiru figures were used
in the wider contexts of cult and political activity;
and also why they so rapidly ceased to be made if
they held ritual importance, and what
consequences ensued,
The name of these figures is significant. Wara,
‘spear’, refers to the context of warfare and inter-
group conflict. The cult performers looked out on
the spectators in order to demonstrate their
political power and solidarity. Wara can also be
used to mean ‘wealth’, the ability to ‘kill’ objects
by paying for them with wealth items, or to obtain
wives by the payment of bride price. As the
figures represented the human form, they could
ambiguously take onto themselves an aura both of
the dead ancestors and of the living men who
carried them in the festival. Since, among the
Wiru, the Tapa cult dealt with internal problems
716 P. J. STEWART & A. STRATHERN
of sickness centered on male ancestors and the
Female Spirit cult was concerned with general
fertility and alliance, the space occupied by the
Timbu cult clearly had to do with the outward-
looking political strength of settlements.
The decline of the Timbu cult thus predictably
accompanied the decline in warfare between
parishes and hastened the demise of the pre-
colonial patterns of inter-parish competition and
display, although aspects of these continued in the
pig-kills held periodically (Strathern & Stewart
1999a). In addition, as we have seen, some
fundamentalist Christian missions in the 1960s
were able successfully enough to label cult
practices as satanic, and the timbu wara figures
were prominent and easily visible targets for
disapproval, whereas cult stones could more easily
be hidden and used still for healing rituals or
small sacrifices. The timbu wara figures thus
disappeared, only to reappear briefly as ‘tourist’
objects, once emptied of their meaning and
dislocated from their political and ritual contexts.
Their decline is one of the markers of the success
of colonial hegemony, with a trajectory from
prime ritual object to tourist object to forgotten
piece of knowledge.
Tracing the decline of these sacred figures
through time, we have first to note that the major
cult leaders were often those who surrendered
their ritual power to the Christian missions in
order to get the new ritual power that was on
offer. In other words, they themselves in some
sense began the process of desacralisation.
Mission helpers then took this further by cutting
the effigies into pieces, something their custodians
themselves would not do because of ela. The
same mission authorities, along with colonial
government officers, completed the process by
suggesting the items be made for sale, relying on
people’s desire for money.
The making of the figures for the Cambridge
museum in 1967 pre-dated this process. These
figures closely paralleled traditional designs.
Those made later, for sale to tourists, showed
variations. They were bigger, designed for display
on hotel walls; more uniform in color and design;
were turned out repeatedly; or were made in the
shape of crosses or abstract designs. After
Independence in 1975 and the departure of many
expatriate missionaries and government officers,
the people did not persist with this craft for long.
Indeed, the figures were soon in over-supply: the
patrol officer’s space in the Pangia Station
overflowed with them at one time, jumbled up
and tangled together in disarray because of
insufficient demand for them. As with other
matters, the people became disappointed with
their returns and ceased production.
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WURM, S. A & HATTORI, S. 1982. ‘Language Atlas
of the Pacific Area’. Australian Academy of the
Humanities and the Japanese Academy.
SEPIA HEDLEYI BERRY, 1918 (CEPHALODA: SEPIIDAE): A COMPLETE
DESCRIPTION AND CLARIFICATION OF THE STATUS OF S.
DANNECIGI BERRY, 1918 AND S. REX (IREDALE, 1926)
A. L. REID
Summary
Following the examination of both qualitative and quantitative morphological characters, Sepia
dannevigi Berry, 1918 from off Kangaroo Island, South Australia and Sepia rex (Iredale, 1926)
from eastern Australia (Manly Beach, NSW) are synonymised with Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918, also
from Kangaroo Island. These three species have never been satisfactorily delimited in the literature,
so this synonomy is long overdue. A full description of Sepia hedleyi is provided.
SEPIA HEDLEYI BERRY, 1918 (CEPHALOPODA: SEPIIDAE): A COMPLETE
DESCRIPTION AND CLARIFICATION OF THE STATUS OF
S. DANNEVIGI BERRY, 1918 AND S. REX (IREDALE, 1926)
A. L. REID
REID, A. L. 2001. Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918 (Cephalopoda: Sepiidae): a complete description
and clarification of the status of S. dannevigi Berry, 1918 and S. rex (Iredale, 1926). Records
of the South Australian Museum 34(2): 79-97.
Following the examination of both qualitative and quantitative morphological characters,
Sepia dannevigi Berry, 1918 from off Kangaroo Island, South Australia and Sepia rex (Iredale,
1926) from eastern Australia (Manly Beach, NSW) are synonomised with Sepia hedleyi Berry,
1918, also from off Kangaroo Island. These three species have never been satisfactorily
delimited in the literature, so this synonomy is long overdue. A full redescription of Sepia
hedleyi is provided.
Amanda L. Reid, 6 Sturt Place,
Bulli,
NSW, 2516, Australia (email:
mandy.reid@ optusnet.com.au). Manuscript received 24 April 2001.
The cuttlefish Sepia hedleyi was described by
Berry (1918) on the basis of a number of specimens
collected from the Great Australian Bight, off the
coast of South Australia. While the original
description is detailed and relatively well
illustrated, the cuttlebones of all the specimens
were missing or damaged, and its structure was
estimated in a reconstruction of the ventral side of
the bone from fragments obtained from a single
female specimen. In the same publication, another
species from the same collection locality, S.
dannevigi, was described on the basis of three
female specimens, again with damaged cuttlebones.
Perhaps (in part) because the cuttlebones of
these species were so incompletely known,
another species, S. rex, was described by Iredale
in 1926 on the basis of a cuttlebone collected on
Manly Beach, Sydney (33°48'S 151°17'E). Iredale
(1926) provided no justification for the erection
of this new species: no comparison was made
with other cuttlefish species. In addition, he
placed S. rex in a new genus, Decorisepia, on the
basis of its ‘remarkable’ rounded spine and the
absence of an inner cone and ventral sulcus.
Strangely, the two latter traits are clearly visible in
his illustration accompanying the description
(Iredale 1926: pl. xxii, figs 9-10) and are obvious
on the type specimen. Following the
comprehensive revision of the Sepiidae by Adam
and Rees (1966), the validity of Decorisepia (and
many other sepiid genera) has been questioned,
and few workers follow this scheme, preferring to
retain most sepiids within a single genus Sepia
until more is known about the phylogenetic
relationships among species. The generic
classification of Adam and Rees (1966) is the one
followed in this paper.
In a later work, Adam (1979) placed two other
species, Decorisepia cottesloensis Cotton, 1929
and D. jaenschi Cotton, 1931, both known only
from cuttlebones, in synonomy with S. rex.
However, the description of S. rex in Adam
(1979) is clearly that of yet another species, S.
opipara (Iredale, 1926), so Adam’s synonomy is
not valid. After examining the type cuttlebones of
all these species, Lu (1998) confirmed that D.
cottesloensis and D. jaenschi are indeed synonyms
of S. rex, so that part of the story, at least, has
been resolved.
The three names, S. dannevigi, S. hedleyi and S.
rex, have persisted in the literature until now,
though they have never been satisfactorily
differentiated from each other. Lu (1998) gave a
diagnosis for each species based on his
examination of the type specimens and
comparison with other material housed in the
Museum Victoria collections. The only difference
he noted between S. hedleyi and S. rex is that the
cuttlebone striae are nearly straight in S. hedleyi
(based on Berry’s figure of the reconstructed
cuttlebone), but rounded in S. rex. He also noted
the similarity between S. dannevigi and S. hedleyi
and suggested they may be conspecific.
The aim of the present study is to clarify the
status and identity of the three putative species, S.
dannevigi, S. hedleyi and S. rex.
80 A. L. REID
MATERIALS AND METHODS
This work was based on museum material. The
non-type material examined is listed in Appendix
1. Material examined in detail for both qualitative
and quantitative characters is listed in the Material
examined section of the species description below.
Australian institutional abbreviations used are:
AM, Australian Museum, Sydney; MV, Museum
Victoria, Melbourne; SAM, South Australian
Museum, Adelaide.
To determine whether S. dannevigi, S. hedleyi
and S. rex are conspecific, the type specimens and
their original descriptions were compared. In
addition, specimens from close to the type locality
of S. rex (Manly Beach, NSW, 33°48'S 151°17'E)
were compared with specimens from southern
Australia. Because the S. rex type specimen is a
beachwashed cuttlebone, it may have drifted from
any distance before reaching Manly Beach, so the
selection of specimens for comparison is not
entirely satisfactory, but unavoidable.
Identification of these specimens could only be
based on the appearance of the cuttlebones and
their comparison with the type specimen.
Unfortunately, apart from the type specimens,
no other material was available for study from the
type locality of S. dannevigi and S. hedleyi, both
from the ‘Investigator St. Area, south of Kangaroo
Island, South Australia’ (Berry 1918: 263, 266).
(Herein lies another difficulty: the Investigator
Strait is actually north of Kangaroo Island, and no
latitudes and longitudes are given in Berry’s
paper, so the exact type locality is unknown.)
Some additional specimens were examined from
sites that were as close as possible to Kangaroo
Island, though some distance away (see Fig. 1).
Apart from the appearance of the cuttlebone (see
Results to follow), these specimens conformed in
all other respects to Berry’s (1918) descriptions
and type specimens of both S. hedleyi and S.
dannevigi (the two of which appear to be
indistinguishable).
In addition to comparing qualitative characters,
the statistics package ‘Systat’ (Systat
Incorporated) was used to compare differences in
morphometric characters between the populations
from eastern Australia (ten males and ten females)
and those from southern Australia (seven males
and nine females). Sexes were treated separately.
FIGURE 1. Distribution of Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918 based on specimens examined in this study (solid triangles).
The open square indicates the approximate type locality of S. dannevigi and S. hedleyi (see Materials and Methods),
and the open triangle the type locality of S. rex. Arrows indicate the collection sites for specimens that were
examined in detail for both morphological and morphometric characters.
REVISION OF SEPIA HEDLEYI 81
In addition to preserved specimens, the
measurements given in Berry’s (1918) paper for
S. hedleyi were included in the analyses. The
measurements of one female specimen (E4377)
were excluded for reasons given in the Results
section below. Slopes and intercepts of regression
equations were compared statistically between the
eastern and southern Australian specimens for
those characters showing a significant correlation
with body size. For soft parts, mantle length was
used as a size indicator. For cuttlebone
measurements, cuttlebone length was used.
Measurements and indices used throughout this
paper are primarily those given in Roper and Voss
(1983), using dorsal mantle length (ML) as a size
standard. Some additional measurements are used,
and these with the definitions listed by Roper and
Voss (1983) are given in Appendix 2. In the
species description to follow, parts of the club
and arm sucker rims are described using the
terminology of Nixon and Dilly (1977) while
nomenclature for the radula follows Nixon (1995).
The beak was described following Clarke (1986).
Diagrammatic illustrations of measurements and
terminology used for key structures are shown in
Reid (2000).
Measurements were made either using dial
callipers, or an eyepiece micrometer inserted in a
stereo microscope. All measurements are
expressed in millimetres (mm). Measurements and
counts for individual specimens and ranges of arm
length indices, arm sucker diameter indices and
arm sucker counts are presented in tables; ranges
for all other characters appear in the text. In the
species description and tables, the range of values
for each character is expressed as: minimum—
mean—maximum (standard deviation, SD). Values
for each sex are given separately. Measurements
were not taken from the Sepia dannevigi (AM
C148249) or Sepia hedleyi (AM C148252)
holotype specimens because of the poor state of
preservation of these animals.
Measurements for structures that were clearly
distorted or broken were not attempted; these, in
addition to missing and unknown values, appear
as a dash (—) in the appendices. Ranges for
specific character traits given with the species
description do not, therefore, always refer to the
total number of specimens examined.
For examination of arm and club sucker rims,
suckers were removed from the middle of
designated arms and the tentacular club, mounted
in glycerine jelly and viewed using a compound
microscope. Radulae and beaks were dissected
from the buccal mass and soaked for
approximately 30 minutes in a warm, saturated
potassium hydroxide solution; then radulae were
cleaned using forceps and a fine brush. Radulae
were mounted in glycerol and the new, unused
portion was examined. All characters refer to both
sexes unless stated otherwise.
The species description was generated using
DELTA (DEscription Language for TAxonomy)
software (Dallwitz, 1980; Dallwitz et al., 1993;
Partridge et al., 1993).
RESULTS
With a single exception, only minor differences
were found between the type specimens and
descriptions of S. dannevigi Berry, 1918, S.
hedleyi Berry, 1918 and S. rex (Iredale, 1926).
The exception is in the shape of the cuttlebone
striae of S. hedleyi (Berry’s figure pl. 1xii, fig. 2,
reproduced here as Fig. 2A), which are nearly
straight compared with those of S. rex (Fig. 2C,
D) which are an inverted U-shape (Fig. 2D).
Unfortunately, the cuttlebone upon which Berry’s
illustration is based could not be found in the
Australian Museum collection (Ian Loch, personal
communication), so the accuracy of the
reconstruction of the cuttlebone could not be
checked. Assuming the shape of the striae as
illustrated is true to the original specimen (a
possibility that seems likely given that this section
of the cuttlebone fragment is largely intact), a
striking resemblance between this cuttlebone and
that of another southern Australian species, S.
cultrata Hoyle, 1885, is apparent (compare Fig.
2A and 2B). Females of S. hedleyi and S. cultrata
are not easy to distinguish in most respects,
however, the club suckers of S. cultrata are in 5-6
transverse rows and larger than those of S.
hedleyi, which are in 9-12 rows. The tentacles
were missing from the specimen Berry (1918)
used for the illustration of the cuttlebone, so it is
possible that this specimen may have been
misidentified, and is actually S. cultrata. Both
species inhabit similar depths and are often
trawled together, so I believe this possibility is a
real one. Given the doubt about the identity of the
specimen (E4377, Berry’s register [507]), its
measurements were excluded from consideration
in this study.
Morphometrics
Nine characters for males (MW, VML, FuL,
HW, AS3, ASI4, CIL, ClSv and CbL) and 19
characters for females (MW, AMH, VML, HW,
82
A. L. REID
TABLE 1. Morphological parameters showing differences in eastern and southern populations for females.
Regression data Y = a + bX, where Y = dependent variable, a = intercept, b = slope, X = ML, Sig. = significant
difference between the regression lines of eastern (E) and southern (S) Australian populations (Pop.) with respect to
intercept, N = number of specimens, r?= proportion of total variation accounted for by regression.
Y Pop. N r? a b Sig.
VML E 10 0.922 0.46 0.88 P<0.001
S 8 0.882 18.65 0.61
AS3 E 10 0.508 0.23 0.02 P <0.05
S 5 0.833 -0.41 0.02
CIL E 10 0.748 —9.83 0.27 P<0.001
S -11.91 0.35
4 0.980
ED, AL1, AL2, AL3, AL4, AS2, AS3, AS4, CIL,
ClSd, GiL, CbL, CbW, CbB and LoL) were
significantly correlated with mantle length in both
populations. Therefore, the slopes and intercepts
of the regression equations could be compared
statistically between the eastern and southern
populations to determine whether there are any
differences in these quantitative characters.
For males, no significant differences in either
the slopes or the intercepts of the regression
equations were found, suggesting that (for the
characters that could be compared) the southern
and eastern populations do not differ. Three
characters differed between the eastern and
southern populations in females: VML, AS3 and
CIL (Table 1). To determine whether these
differences are significant, or perhaps the result of
geographic variation across the range of a single
species, residual variables calculated for each of
these characters were regressed against latitude
and longitude of each specimen collection site
following the methods detailed in Reid (1991).
Residual values for VML and CIL were correlated
with both latitude and longitude, indicating a
strong geographic component in the difference
between the eastern and southern populations
(Table 2). The character AS3 was not correlated
with either latitude or longitude and represents the
only significant difference between the two
populations in quantitative characters. A
difference in this trait alone, the diameter of the
suckers on the third arm of females, does not
warrant further detailed investigation and is of not
sufficient magnitude to warrant distinct species
recognition.
One further difference was noted in the number
of club suckers, with CIRC for the southern
Australian population 9-10 (Appendix 3) and 11-
12 for the eastern Australian population
(Appendices 4 and 5), though the S. hedleyi
holotype clearly has 12 suckers in transverse rows
as noted by Berry (1918). While this does not
appear to be a significant difference between the
two populations, and given the difficulty in
determining the exact number of club suckers,
particularly in species where the suckers are small,
it may still be worth investigating this character
when more material from southern Australia
becomes available.
From all available evidence, I conclude from
the examination of both qualitative and
quantitative characters that all specimens currently
referred to as S. dannevigi, S. hedleyi and S. rex
belong to a single species. Unless specimens are
found that match all parts of Berry’s (1918)
description of S. hedleyi, including the shape of
TABLE 2. Latitudinal and longitudinal regression of residual variables pooled from female specimens from eastern
and southern Australia tested by Y = a + bX where Y = the predicted dependent variable, a = y intercept, b = slope,
X is either latitude or longitude, N = number of specimens, r*= proportion of total variation accounted for by
regression, N/S = not significant.
X = Latitude X = Longitude
Variable N r a b Sig. Yr? a b Sig.
VML 28 0.511 54.40 -1.59 P<0.05 0.360 42.09 0.29 P<0.05
AS3 25 0.217 -1.84 0.06 N/S 0.032 0.75 -0.01 N/S
CIL 28 0.670 -39.79 1.71 P<0.01 0.354 23.61 —0.16
P < 0.05
REVISION OF SEPIA HEDLEYI 83
the cuttlebone striae, I believe his illustration of
the cuttlebone of S. hedleyi is in fact the
cuttlebone of a specimen of a different species,
probably S. cultrata. Sepia hedleyi has date
precedence (ICZN, 1999: Art. 23.1) with respect
to S. rex, and page precedence (ICZN, 1999: Art.
69A.10) with respect to S. dannevigi, so the latter
two species are placed in synonomy with S.
hedleyi in the description to follow.
Counts and indices for individual specimens
from southern Australia are given in Appendix 3,
and from eastern Australia in Appendices 4 and 5.
Ranges for arm length indices, arm sucker
diameter indices and arm sucker counts for
southern Australian specimens are shown in
Appendix 6. Measurements included in the
description refer only to southern Australian
specimens.
TAXONOMY
Sepia hedleyi Berry
(Figs 1(in part)-7, Appendices 3, 6)
Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918: 258-264, pls 71-72. —
Lu, 1998: 169, fig. 10.
Sepia dannevigi Berry, 1918: 264-268, pls 73-
74, figs 1-2. — Lu, 1998: 168, fig. 8.
Decorisepia rex Iredale, 1926: 193. — Lu, 1998:
180-181, fig. 22.
Material examined
Holotype. Sepia dannevigi, 1F (61.0 mm ML),
Investigator St. Area, south of Kangaroo Is, South
Australia, Jan-Feb 1912, FIS ‘Endeavour’ E2466
(AM C148249),.
Holotype. Sepia hedleyi, 1M (56.9mm ML),
Investigator St. Area, south of Kangaroo Island,
South Australia Jan-Feb, 1912, FIS ‘Endeavour’
E2464 (AM C148252).
Holotype. Sepia rex, 1 cuttlebone (107.0 mm
CbL), Manly Beach, NSW [33°48'S 151°17'E]
(AM C127593).
Other material examined. Australia: New
South Wales: 1M (84.3 mm ML), 2F (83.1,
103.8 mm ML), 32°27'S 152°54'E, 244-242 m, 30
Jan 1982, coll. C. C. Lu & R. Tait (MV F77179);
1F (108.8 mm ML), 33°40'S 151°50'E, 210-204
m, 25 Jan 1982, coll. C. C. Lu & R. Tait (MV
F77138); 5M (75.9-100.5 mm ML), 9F (72.6—
107.7 mm ML), 33°42'S 151°51'E, 300-293 m, 25
Jan 1982, coll. C. C. Lu & R. Tait (MV F77136).
South Australia: 3F (93.1-107.6 mm ML), 25.5
C D
FIGURE 2. A, Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918, reconstructed
cuttlebone, pl. Ixxii, fig. 2 Berry, 1918, female [507],
91.0 mm ML (E4377) (specimen possibly S. cultrata
Hoyle, 1885); B, Sepia cultrata Hoyle, 1885,
cuttlebone, ventral view, female, 67 mm ML (MV
F66203); C, Sepia rex, cuttlebone, dorsal view,
holotype, 107.0 mm CbL (AM C127593); D, Sepia rex,
cuttlebone, ventral view, specimen as in C. Scale bars;
A, B = 10 mm; C, D = 20 mm.
84 A. L. REID
ORL. |,
we Ola Clare
BE-Cene
FIGURE 3. Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918. A, funnel organ, male, 47.2 mm ML (SAM D19241); B, funnel-locking
(right) and mantle-locking (left) cartilage, male, 47.2 mm ML (SAM D19241); C, sucker rim arm 1, portion of
toothed half, male, 55.0 mm ML (SAM D19243); D, sucker rim, portion of non-toothed half, specimen as in C; E,
portion of hectocotylised arm, male, 75.7 mm ML (SAM D19241) (D, dorsal; V, ventral). Scale bars; A = 5 mm; B
= 2mm; C, D=0.05 mm; E=2.0 mm.
REVISION OF SEPIA HEDLEYI 85
miles [41 km] SW of Cape Buffon, 37°58'S
139°45'E, 300 fm [549 mJ, May 1981, coll. J.
Sealey (SAM D19240). Western Australia: 2M
(47.2, 75.7 mm ML), Great Australian Bight, 115
nm SW Eucla, 33°18'S 127°40'E, 180 m, 16 Jan
1989, coll. W. Zeidler & K. Gowlett-Holmes
(SAM D19241); 2F (67.9, 68.6mm ML), Great
Australian Bight, 110 nm SW of Eucla, 33°19'S
127°50'E, 250 m, 16 Jan 1989, coll. W. Zeidler &
K. Gowlett-Holmes (SAM D19242); 1M
(55.0mm ML), Great Australian Bight, 115 nm
SW of Eucla, 33°19'S 127°S50'E, 180 m, 16 Jan
1989, coll. W. Zeidler & K. Gowlett-Holmes
(SAM D19243).
Diagnosis
Male and female arms subequal in length; arm
suckers tetraserial throughout. Hectocotylus
present, left ventral arm of males modified: 6-8
rows of normal suckers proximally, 9-10 rows of
reduced suckers, remaining suckers normal to arm
tip; suckers in two dorsal series smaller than those
in two ventral series, dorsal and ventral series
widely spaced, those in ventral two series aligned
in a single row. Club with 9-12 suckers in
transverse rows, all similar sized, small; dorsal
and ventral protective membranes not fused at
base of club; swimming keel extends well beyond
carpus along stalk. Cuttlebone acute anteriorly and
posteriorly, with median rib dorsally; spine
without keels; anterior striae inverted U-shape;
inner cone limbs uniform width, narrow, V-
shaped posteriorly.
Description
Counts and indices for individual specimens are
given in Appendix 3; ranges for arm length
indices, arm sucker diameter indices and arm
sucker counts are shown in Appendix 6.
Small to moderate-sized species; ML males
47.2-10.7-83.0 (SD, 13.9); females 67.9-87.8-
107.6 (SD, 13.9). Mantle broad, oval; MWI males
41.9-49.8-55.6 (SD, 5.4); females 44.2-51.6—
59.8 (SD, 5.9); dorsal anterior margin triangular,
acute; extending anteriorly beyond eyes; AMHI
males 11.9-14.2-15.5 (SD, 2.0); females 12.8-
14.6-17.8 (SD, 2.0). Ventral mantle margin
emarginate, without distinct lateral angles; VMLI
males 80.7-86.0—-93.7 (SD, 4.4); females 75.3-
83.1-88.4 (SD, 4.5); posterior gland and gland
pore absent. Fins widest in posterior third; FWI
males 7.2—9.7-11.7 (SD, 1.3); females 4.4-8.6—
11.6 (SD, 2.4); anterior origin posterior to mantle
margin; Flla males 4.5-5.0—5.3 (SD, 0.4); females
2.0-3.7-5.7 (SD, 1.5); rounded posteriorly; with
narrow gap between; FIIp males 6.4—7.3-8.0 (SD,
0.8); females 4.7—7.9-12.4 (SD, 3.3). Funnel
short, robust, broad; extends to level of anterior
rim of eye; FuLI males 27.7—33.2-40.5 (SD, 5.5);
females 25.6—30.0-34.6 (SD, 3.3). Funnel free
portion approximately half funnel length; FFul
males 14.5-17.3-20.1 (SD, 2.8); females 12.6-
15.3-19.3 (SD, 2.8). Funnel organ dorsal elements
inverted V-shape with small anterior papilla;
ventral elements oval with acute anterior tips (Fig.
3A). Mantle-locking cartilage curved, with
semicircular ridge; funnel-locking cartilage with
depression that corresponds to ridge (Fig. 3B).
Head short; HLI males 17.6—23.2—29.7 (SD, 4.8);
females 13.4—-25.8-40.8 (SD, 9.4); broad,
narrower than mantle; HWI males 33.8-37.8-44.4
(SD, 3.7); females 31.6-41.3-46.6 (SD, 5.1). Eyes
moderate size; EDI males 12.7—14.2-16.5 (SD,
2.1); females 8.9-10.8-12.7 (SD, 1.6); ventral
eyelids present.
Male and female arms subequal in length
(Appendix 6). Arm length index (ALD of longest
arms in males (ALI4) 33.8-40.2-54.4 (SD, 7.2);
ALI of longest arms in females (ALI4) 34.7-42.0-—
51.3 (SD, 4.8). Protective membranes in both
sexes narrow. Non-hectocotylised arms normal,
not thickened. Distal arm tips in both sexes not
markedly attenuate. Arm sucker arrangement same
in both sexes: arm suckers tetraserial. Male non-
hectocotylised arm suckers normal in size (not
greatly enlarged); smaller than female arm suckers
in size (Appendix 6). Chitinous rims of arm
suckers with elongate rectangular teeth on distal
half of inner ring (Fig. 3C), teeth absent on
proximal half of ring (Fig. 3D); infundibulum
with 7-8 rows of hexagonal processes, inner 4-5
(variable) rows with elongate rounded pegs, pegs
becoming smaller towards periphery of sucker;
peripheral sucker rim processes radially arranged,
elongate, without pegs.
Arm sucker counts range from 106 to 248;
females with higher average counts than males
(Appendix 6).
Hectocotylus present, left ventral arm modified;
sucker size normal proximally, reduced medially,
then normal to arm tip; from proximal to distal
end of arm, 6-8 rows of normal suckers; 9-10
rows of reduced suckers (Fig. 3E). Suckers in two
dorsal series smaller than those in two ventral
series; reduced suckers much smaller than normal
arm suckers: ASIn4 1.32—1.46—1.69 (SD, 0.20) v.
ASInI4m 0.26—0.36—0.42 (SD, 0.09). Oral surface
of modified region wide, swollen, fleshy, with
transversely grooved ridges. Suckers in two dorsal
and two ventral series displaced laterally, suckers
86 A. L. REID
FIGURE 4. Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918. A, club, male, 75.7 mm ML (SAM D19241); B, club sucker rim, portion of
toothed half, male, 75.7 mm ML (SAM D19241); C, club sucker rim portion of non-toothed half, specimen as in B;
D, upper beak, lateral view, female, 68.6 mm ML (SAM D19242) (stippling indicates extent of dark brown highly
sclerotised portion of beak); E, lower beak anteriolateral view, specimen as in D; F, lower beak, ventral view,
specimen as in D; G, radula, male, 75.7 mm ML (SAM D19241). Scale bars; A = 1.0 mm; B, C = 0.05 mm; D-F =
2.0 mm; G = 0.2 mm.
REVISION OF SEPIA HEDLEYI 87
in two ventral series aligned in a single row (Fig.
3E). Hectocotylised arm not markedly attenuate
distally.
Tentacular club longer in females than males;
CILI males 9.9-13.9--17.2 (SD, 2.8); females
16.2-—20.0—24.2 (SD, 3.4). Club crescent-shaped;
moderate length; sucker-bearing face flattened.
Club with 9-12 suckers in transverse rows; 32-42
suckers in longitudinal series. Suckers all similar
size; small (Fig. 4A). Distal tip of club with pair
of slightly larger suckers partially covered by a
thick, fleshy flap. CISI males 0.40—0.45—0.53 (SD,
0.07); females 0.40-0.46—0.52 (SD, 0.05); dorsal
and ventral marginal longitudinal series of suckers
similar in size; CISId males 0.40—0.42-0.42 (SD,
0.01); females 0.40-0.46-0.52 (SD, 0.05); CISIv
males 0.29-0.37-0.42 (SD, 0.07); females 0.32-
0.41—0.52 (SD, 0.10). Sucker dentition: half inner
ring circumference in both sexes with elongate-
rectangular teeth (Fig. 4B), remaining half with
blunt projections (Fig. 4C); infundibulum with 5—
7 rows of hexagonal processes, innermost with
elongate rounded pegs, pegs smaller towards
periphery of sucker; at periphery, processes
smaller, elongate-rectangular, without pegs
(similar to arm suckers). Swimming keel of club
extends well beyond carpus (Fig. 4A). Dorsal and
ventral protective membranes not fused at base of
club; joined to stalk; dorsal and ventral
membranes same length; extend beyond carpus
along stalk; approximately equal width; dorsal
membrane forms shallow cleft at junction with
stalk.
Gills with 29-30 lamellae per demibranch;
GiLC males 29-29-29 (SD, 0); females 29-29-—
30 (SD, 0.7). Gill length: GiLI males 24.9-30.0—
35.0 (SD, 5.0); females 29.5—33.9-38.2 (SD, 3.6).
Buccal membrane without suckers. Upper beak
(Fig. 4D) rostrum pointed, short, length
approximately equal to width, cutting edge
GO
FIGURE 5. Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918. Male reproductive tract (testis not shown), 55.0 mm ML (SAM D19243)
(AAG, appendix of accessory gland; AG, accessory gland; CC, ciliated canal; DDC, distal deferent canal; GO,
genital orifice; MG, mucilaginous gland; SG, spermatophoric gland; SS, spermatophoric sac (containing
spermatophores); VD, vas deferens). Scale bar = 3 mm.
88 A. L. REID
slightly curved; hood high above crest
posteriorly; crest curved, lateral wall shallowly
indented posteriorly; wings and hood narrow and
short; jaw angle approximately 90 degrees; hood
and crest dark brown. Lower beak (Fig. 4E, F)
rostrum protrudes only slightly, cutting edge
straight; hood low on crest; crest straight, no
indentation on lateral wall edge; lateral wall edge
angled posteriorly, not perpendicular to crest;
hood and wings, width broad; hood notch
shallow, broad; wings widely spaced; crest
narrow; rostrum pigmented dark brown, wings
dark brown on inner margin only, rest of wing
light brown, crest dark brown. Radula (Fig. 4G)
homodont; rhachidian teeth with truncate bases,
slender, triangular, sides straight; first lateral
teeth similar length and width to rhachidian
teeth, asymmetrical with mesocone slightly
displaced toward centre of radula; second laterals
slightly longer than first, not distinctly curved on
lateral margin, with broad heels; marginal teeth
much longer than second lateral teeth, elongate
with long tapered and curved mesocone.
Digestive tract: (not illustrated) paired salivary
glands approximately one-third length of buccal
mass; paired digestive glands large, located close
together, with narrow, elongate triangular lobes
posteriorly, ducts connect digestive glands near
midline with caecum, ducts with branched
attached pancreatic tissue; oesophagus runs
dorsally along median junction of digestive
glands, joins sac-like stomach immediately
posterior to digestive glands; caecum disc-like,
grooved in a blunt V-shape anteriorly, surface
lining finely pleated; intestine undifferentiated;
ink sac very large, elongate; anal flaps well
developed.
Male reproductive tract (Fig. 5): testis on left
posterior side of viscero-pericardial coelom; at
distal end, convoluted vas deferens opens into
broad, cone-shaped mucilaginous gland, then
narrower, curved, spermatophoric gland. Close to
junction with lobe-shaped accessory gland and
gland appendix, delicate ciliated canal joins
spermatophoric gland; distal deferent canal
connects appendix of accessory gland to
spermatophore storage sac; genital orifice opens
dorsal to left gill in anterior end of mantle cavity.
Spermatophores (Fig. 6): cement body unipartite
(not divided into distinct regions); flask-shaped,
rounded posteriorly, connects to sperm reservoir
via narrow duct; tapers abruptly following
junction with middle tunic, which commences
towards basal half of cement body; ejaculatory
apparatus coiled, extends into oral dilation of
spermatophore. Spermatophores 5.8—7.9 mm long;
0.2-0.4 mm wide; SpLI 10.4—LL5-12.3 (SD, 0.9);
SpWI 3.4-4.4-5.1 (SD, 0.8). Buccal membrane in
females extends ventrally with spermatheca.
Female reproductive tract: (not illustrated)
ovary hangs from dorsal wall of posterior viscero-
pericardial coelom. Oviduct thin-walled,
continuous with body cavity; distally with
thickened, glandular walls (oviducal glands).
Nidamental glands in mature animals occupy large
portion of ventral side of mantle cavity. Accessory
nidamental glands anterior to nidamental glands.
Eggs spherical; 2.5—3.1 mm diameter; EgDI 2.5-
2.8-3.2 (SD, 0.4).
Cuttlebone length approximately equal to
mantle length. Subdermal cartilaginous layer
FIGURE 6. Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918. A,
spermatophore, oral end, male, 85.6 mm (MV F56762)
(CB, cement body; EA, ejaculatory apparatus); B,
enlargement of cement body, male, 90.0 mm ML (MV
F57291). Scale bars; A = 0.15 mm; B = 0,10 mm,
REVISION OF SEPIA HEDLEYI 89
between cuttlebone and skin absent. Cuttlebone
outline oblong (Fig. 7); CbL males 46.2-50.6—
55.0 (SD, 6.2); females 69.3-94.2-107 (SD,
16.9); CbWI males 34.7-36.4-38.1 (SD, 2.4);
females 33.4—35.2-37.8 (SD, 2.0); not strongly
convex in lateral view; CbBI males 9.6—10.0-10.4
(SD, 0.5); females 9.9-10.9-11.9 (SD, 1.1). Bone
acuminate, acute anteriorly (Fig. 2C, D);
acuminate, acute posteriorly (Fig. 2C, D and Fig.
7A, B); not strongly recurved ventrally. Dorsal
surface creamy white; evenly convex; entire
surface calcified with very fine granulose
sculpture; spine and extreme posterior tip of bone
covered with smooth glaze-like substance. Dorsal
median rib present (Fig. 2C and Fig. 7A); distinct;
sides approximately parallel, broaden slightly
anteriorly; bordered laterally by distinct grooves;
lateral ribs present, indistinct. Chitin surrounds
entire margin of cuttlebone. Spine present; short,
pointed; SLI females 4.7—4.9-5.1 (SD, 0.3);
straight, parallel to bone; keel(s) absent;
cuttlebone smooth between spine and outer cone;
ventral notch at base of spine absent. Dorso-
posterior end of cuttlebone without median
longitudinal ridge anterior to spine. Striated zone
flat; extends laterally to inner cone; not separated
from outer cone by smooth marginal zones; StZI
males 61.3-63.2-65.1 (SD, 2.7); females 64.1—
65.5-66.8 (SD, 1.3). Last loculus convex; LoLI
males 32.2-34.1-35.9 (SD, 2.7); females 28.7—
30.8-33.6 (SD, 2.6); at midline half length of
striated zone. LoL/StZ(%) males 49.4-54.0-58.7
(SD, 6.5); females 43.7-45.3-46.9 (SD, 2.2).
Loculus ends at striated zone, does not extend
posteriorly on each side of striated zone. Sulcus
extends entire length of cuttlebone; shallow,
narrow; not flanked by rounded ribs. Last loculus
with shallow median indentation, not very
pronounced. Anterior striae inverted U-shaped.
Limbs of inner cone extend anteriorly to end of
striated zone; inner cone lateral limbs not
separated from outer cone by two distinct smooth
zones. Inner cone limbs uniform width, narrow,
V-shaped posteriorly; not raised to form ledge
FIGURE 7. Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918. A, cuttlebone, dorsal view, female, 93.1 mm ML (MV _ F57307); B,
cuttlebone, ventral view, specimen as in A. Scale bars = 10 mm.
90 A. L. REID
posteriorly; thickened; shiny; without calcareous
ribs radiating into outer cone. Outer cone present;
calcified; moderate width; narrow anteriorly,
broadens posteriorly; posteriolateral wall without,
or with weak, indentation in both sexes; lateral
limbs not flared ventro-laterally; limbs forming
thin rim ventral to spine.
Body papillae present; dorsal mantle with
longitudinal row of ridge-like papillae along each
side, close to base of each fin; up to six fin
papillae (approximately) in each row. Ventral
mantle without ridges; head and arm papillae
absent.
Ground colour (alcohol preserved specimens)
pale buff pinkish-brown; arms without markings.
Paired dorsal eye spots absent; fins pale. Fins
without markings at base. Ventral pigment
present, pale. Ridges orange-pink in colour.
Distribution
Australia: Queensland, from off the southern
Great Barrier Reef, 22°35.3'S 153°46.7'E around
southern Australia to Western Australia, SW of
Shark Bay, 27°07'S 112°49'E. Depth range 47-
1092 m (average collection depth 218 m).
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Wolfgang Zeidler from the South
Australian Museum, Adelaide and Ian Loch from the
Australian Museum, Sydney for the loan of specimens. I
would also like to acknowledge C. C. Lu for initiating
this study of the Australian sepiids and for providing
helpful advice. I also thank Dermot Henry from the
Museum Victoria for providing facilities at the Museum
Victoria, Melbourne; and the referees for their helpful
comments.
REFERENCES
ADAM, W. 1979. The Sepiidae (Cephalopoda,
Decapoda) in the collections of the Western
Australian Museum. Records of the Western
Australian Museum 7(2): 111-212.
ADAM, W. & REES, W. J. 1966. A review of the
cephalopod family Sepiidae. Scientific Reports of the
John Murray Expedition 1933-1934 11(1): 1-165.
BERRY, S. S. 1918. Report on the Cephalopoda
obtained by the F.I.S. “Endeavour” in the Great
Australian Bight and other Southern Australian
localities. Biological Results of the Fishing
Experiments carried on by the FIS “Endeavour”,
1909-1914 4(5): 203-296.
CLARKE, M. R. 1986. ‘Handbook for the Identification
of Cephalopod Beaks’. Oxford Science Publications:
New York.
COTTON, B. C. 1929. Contributions to the fauna of
Rottnest Island No. 4. Western Australian Sepiidae.
Journal of the Royal Society of Western Australia
15: 87-94.
COTTON, B. C. 1931. Cuttlebones from Robe with
description of a new species. South Australian
Naturalist 12(3): 39-41.
DALLWITZ, M. J. 1980. A general system for coding
taxonomic descriptions. Taxon 29: 41-46.
DALLWITZ, M. J., PAINE T, A. & ZURCHER, E. J.
1993. ‘User’s Guide to the DELTA System: a
General System for Processing Taxonomic
Descriptions’. CSIRO Division of Entomology:
Canberra.
ICZN 1999. ‘International Code of Zoological
Nomenclature. 4th Edition’. International
Commission on Zoological Nomenclature: London.
IREDALE, T. 1926. The cuttle-fish “bones” of the
Sydney beaches (Phylum Mollusca — Class
Cephalopoda). Australian Zoologist 4: 186-196.
LU, C. C. 1998. A synopsis of Sepiidae in Australian
waters. Pp. 159-190 in ‘Systematics and
Biogeography of Cephalopods’. Vol. 586. Eds N. A.
Voss, M. Vecchione, R. B. Toll & M. J. Sweeney.
Smithsonian Institution Press: Washington DC.
NIXON, M. 1995. A nomenclature for the radula of the
Cephalopoda (Mollusca) — living and fossil. Journal
of Zoology. London 236: 73-81.
NIXON, M. & DILLY, P. N. 1977. Sucker surfaces and
prey capture. Pp. 447-511 in ‘The Biology of
Cephalopods’. Symposia. Vol. 38. Eds M. Nixon &
J. B. Messenger. Zoological Society of London:
London.
PARTRIDGE, T. R., DALLWITZ, M. J. & WATSON,
L. 1993. ‘A Primer for the DELTA System’. CSIRO
Division of Entomology: Canberra.
REID, A. 1991. Taxonomic review of the Australian
Rossiinae (Cephalopoda: Sepiolidae), with a
description of a new species, Neorossia leptodons,
and redescription of N. caroli (Joubin, 1902).
Bulletin of Marine Science 49(3): 748-831.
REID, A. L. 2000. Australian cuttlefishes
(Cephalopoda: Sepiidae): the ‘doratosepion’ species
complex. Invertebrate Taxonomy 14: 1-76.
ROPER, C. F. E. & VOSS, G. L. 1983. Guidelines for
taxonomic descriptions of cephalopod species.
Memoirs of the National Museum of Victoria 44:
48-63.
REVISION OF SEPIA HEDLEYI 9]
APPENDIX 1. Complete list of non-type material examined (not all specimens were sexed and are cited only as
number in each specimen lot).
Australia: Queensland: 1, off GBR, 22°35.3'S
153°46.7'E, 350-345 m, 4 Nov 1985, coll. FV ‘Soela’
(MV F57306); 1F, off Brisbane, 26°40'S 153°41.9'E,
380 m, 2 Aug 1982, coll. M. Potter on ‘Iron Summer’
(MV F57294); 2, 27°11.48'S 153°43.9'E, 230-210 m,
14 Dec 1982, coll. G. Smith on ‘Iron Summer’ (MV
F57299); 1, W Moreton I., 27°35'S 153°5S0'E, 210 m, 15
Dec 1982, coll. G. Smith on ‘Iron Summer’ (MV
F57309); many 27°46'S 153°5S1'E, 205 m, 23 Mar 1983,
coll. C. C. Lu on ‘Iron Summer’ (MV F57308); 1M, 1F,
27°58'S 153°49'E, 220 m, 23 Mar 1983, coll. ‘Iron
Summer’ (MV F57300); many, off N Stradbroke L.,
27°58'S 153°51.5'E, 183 m, 28 Jul 1982, coll. ‘Iron
Summer’ (MV F89852); 1M, 9F, 32°23'S 152°49'E, 278
m, 30 Jan 1982, coll. C. C. Lu & R. Tait on FV ‘Soela’
(MV F77180); 10M, 6F, off NSW, 32°23'S 152°59'E,
278 m, 30 Jan 1982, coll. C. C. Lu & R. Tait on FV
‘Soela’ (MV F77191); 3M, 6F, 32°23'S 152°59'E, 278
m, 30 Jan 1982, C. C. Lu & R. Tait on FV ‘Soela’ (MV
F77182); 7M, 5F, 32°24'S 152°56'E, 246-244 m, 30 Jan
82, coll. C. C. Lu & R. Tait on FV ‘Soela’ (MV
F77084). New South Wales: 4, off Port Stephens,
32°24'S 152°56'E, 240 m, 30 Jan 1982, coll. FV ‘Soela’
(AM C152609); 2M, 10F, 32°27'S 152°54'E, 244-242
m, 30 Jan 1982, coll. FV ‘Soela’ (MV F77178); 1M,
2F, 32°27'S 152°54'E, 244-242 m, 30 Jan 1982, coll. C.
C. Lu & R. Tait (MV F77179); 14, off Port Stephens,
32°50—-52'S 152°42-41'E, 550 m, 6 Dec 1978, coll. K. J.
Graham, W. B. Rudman & P. H. Colman on FRV
‘Kapala’ (AM C152641); 2, 8 mls E of Port Stephens,
101 m, 18 Aug 1975, coll. K. J. Graham & C, Short on
FRV ‘Kapala’ (AM C100805); many, off Newcastle,
33°01'S 152°01'E-33°03'S 151°58'E, 121 m, 28 Oct
1993, coll. FRV ‘Kapala’ (MV F89853); 17, 33° 06'S
124°33'E, 28 Nov 1981, coll. FV ‘Soela’ (MV F89854);
4, off Sydney 33°33-36'S 151°59-57'E, 373-366 m, 21
Dec 1976, coll. K. J. Graham & P. H. Colman on FRV
‘Kapala’ (AM C105862); 1F, 33°40'S 151°5S0'E, 210-
204 m, 25 Jan 1982, coll. C. C. Lu & R. Tait (MV
F77138); many, 33°42'S 151°51'E, 300-293 m, 25 Jan
1982, C. C. Lu & R. Tait (MV F77136); many, off
Sydney, 33°45-34'S 151°39-40'E, 143 m, 5 Dec 1978,
coll. FRV ‘Kapala’ (AM C152596); many, E of
Cronulla, 34°05-11'S 151°19-14'E, 132 m, 22 Apr
1975, coll. FRV ‘Kapala’ (AM C152594); many, E of
Wollongong, 34°19-20'S 151°19-18'E, 161 m, 12 Dec
1978, coll. K. J. Graham, W. B. Rudman & P. H.
Colman on FRV ‘Kapala’ (AM C152646); many,
Wreck Bay, 35°13'S 150°41'E-35°12'S 150°44'E, 60-47
m, 20 Oct 1993, coll. FRV ‘Kapala’ (MV F89855);
many, off NSW, 36°20'S 150°20'E, 130 m, coll. FV
‘Soela’ (MV F77164); 1, 34°22'S 151°23'E, 26 Mar
1981, coll. FV ‘Soela’ (MV F89856); 1F, 36°26'S
150°12'E, 104 m, 21 Apr 1981, coll. FV ‘Soela’ (MV
F77207); 2, off Tathra 36°35'S 150°11'E-36°39'S
150°10'E, 117-115 m, 8 Dec 1993, coll. K. Graham on
FRV ‘Kapala’ (MV F89857); 2M, IF, 25 km SSE
Merimbula, 36°56.5'S 150°11.8'E-36°54.1'S 150°11.9'E,
115 m, 5 Aug 1993, coll. RV ‘Southern Surveyor’ (MV
F89858); 1F, NE Twofold Bay, 37°05'S 149°54'E, 29
Dec 1960, coll. R. Slack-Smith (MV F89859); several,
off Eden, 131.7 m, FRV ‘Kapala’ (AM C174072); 5M,
8F, E of Disaster Bay, 37°24'S 150°17.S'E, 172-162 m,
2 Aug 1993, coll. FRV ‘Southern Surveyor’ (MV
F89860). Victoria: 4, 38°01.7'S 150°04.9'E, 3 Feb
1985, coll. FV ‘Soela’ (MV F89861); 5, 38°02'S
150°0S'E, 4 May 1984, coll. FV ‘Soela’ (MV F51887);
1M, 3F, 38°06'S 149°55'E, 270-267 m, 18 Jan 1982,
coll. C. C. Lu & R. Tait (MV F77112); 4, 38°09.1'S
149°54.0'E, 3 Feb 1985, coll. FV ‘Soela’ (MV F89862);
4, 38°13'S 149°43'E, 4 May 1984, coll. FV ‘Soela’ (MV
F51888); 3, 38°15.4'S 149°19.5'E, coll. FV ‘Soela’ (MV
F89863); 2, 38°34.25'S 148°32.25'E, 24 Aug 1982, coll.
MSL (MV F89864); 1F, E Bass Strait 38°34.3'S
148°16.1'E, 86 m, 6 Jun 1984, coll. P. Moulton, MSL
(MV F89865); IF, 18 mls S of Cape Nelson, 38°44'S
143°33'E, 152.9 m, 26 Aug 1975, coll. FV ‘Sarda’ (MV
F56764); 1F, off Portland, 38°50'-S1'S 141°46'-55'E,
54.8 m, 5 Mar 1980, coll. M. Gomon on ‘Halcyon’
(MV F30332); 3, 38°50'S 141°46'E, 6 Mar 1980, coll.
‘Halcyon’ (MV F30843); 1M, IF, eastern Bass Strait,
38°53.05'S 148°24.2'E, 126-101 m, 8 Feb 1981, coll.
RV ‘Hai Kung’ (MV F57310); IF, 38°55.6'S
148°27.7'E, 210-150 m, 27 Aug 1994, coll. FRV
‘Southern Surveyor’ (MV F89866); many, 39°16'S
145°05.08'E-38°77'S 145°07.64'E, 65.9 m, 3 Feb 1981,
coll, M. F. Gomon et al. on RV ‘Hai Kung’ (MV
F89867); 1 juv., E Bass Strait, 39°28.4'S 148°41.8'E,
110 m, 28 Mar 1979, coll. HMAS ‘Kimbla’ (MV
F57292); many, central Bass Strait, 39°44.55'S
143°33.82', 78.7 m, coll. C. C. Lu on ‘Hai Kung’ (MV
F57296). Tasmania: 1M, S of Flinders I., 40°43.79'S
148°32.7'E, 58.6-54.9 m, 7 Feb 1981, coll. FV ‘Hai
Kung’ (MV F57311); 1F, SE Tasmania, 42°42.8'S
148°24.4'E, 446 m, 26 Jun 1984, coll. FV ‘Soela’ (MV
F52265); 4, 42°38'S 148°24'E, 23 Jun 1984, coll. FV
‘Soela’ (MV F52100); 3, 42°42.8'S 148°24'E, 26 Jun
1984, FV ‘Soela’ (MV F51908); 6, 42°43.7'S
148°22.3'E, 15 Jun 1984, coll, FV ‘Soela’ (MV
F52099); 1F, off Tasmania, 43°38.9'S 147°49.4'E, 160
m, 16 Feb 1976, coll. K. Nesis on RV ‘Dmitry
Mendeleev’ (MV F57307). South Australia: 4F, 27 nm
SW of Beachport, 37°50'S 139°46'E, 1092 m, 24 Oct
1981, coll. M. F. Gomon & R. Wilson on ‘Halcyon’
(MV F52793); 1F, off Beachport, 37°51'S 139°48'E,
437-400 m, 24 Oct 1981, coll. M. F. Gomon & R.
Wilson on ‘Halcyon’ (MV F51369); 2F, off Beachport,
180 fm [329 m], Apr 1981 (SAM D19239). Western
92 A. L. REID
Australia: 1M, 1F, SW of Shark Bay, 27°07'S
112°49'E, 248-238 m, 3 Mar 1981, coll. M. F. Gomon
on ‘Hai-Kung’ (MV F56762); 1F, Great Australian
Bight, 12.0 km S of Middini Beach, 33°17.4'S
127°44.5'E-33°17.1'S 127°31.25'E, 180-167 m, 14 Feb
1990, coll. R. Poole on FV ‘Comet’ (MV F89868); 1F,
Great Australian Bight, 33°20'S 128°10'E-33°22'S
128°08'E, 200 m, 29 Sep 1980 (MV F56763).
REVISION OF SEPIA HEDLEYI 93
APPENDIX 2. Description of measurements and counts. Definitions largely follow Roper and Voss (1983). New or
modified definitions are indicated by an asterisk (*). Indices (shown in square brackets) are calculated by expressing
each measure as a percentage of mantle length or, for cuttlebone characters, cuttlebone length (unless otherwise
specified).
Arm Length - AL: length of each designated (ie 1,2 etc)
arm measured from first basal (proximal-most)
sucker to distal tip of arm (Arm 1, dorsal; 2, dorso-
lateral; 3, ventro-lateral; 4, ventral) [ALI].
Anterior Mantle to Head length *: AMH: dorsal length
of mantle measured from anterior-most point of
mantle to intersection of transverse line joining
dorso-lateral mantle margin [AMHI].
Arm Sucker Count *: ASC: total number of suckers on
each designated arm (eg.ASC2).
Arm Sucker diameter: AS: diameter of largest normal
sucker on each designated (ie 1,2 etc) arm [ASIn];
ASl4m* diameter of smallest sucker on modified
portion of left ventral arm of males [ASInI4m].
Cuttlebone Breadth*: CbB: greatest dorso-ventral width
of cuttlebone.
Cuttlebone Length: CbL: dorsal length of cuttlebone
along midline, including spine.
Cuttlebone Width: CbW: greatest lateral width of
cuttlebone [CbWI].
Club Length: CIL: length of tentacular club measured
from proximal-most basal suckers (carpus) to distal
tip of club [CILT].
Club Row Count: CIRC: number of suckers in
transverse rows on tentacular club.
Club Sucker diameter: CIS: diameter of largest sucker
on tentacular club [CISTI].
Club Sucker dorsal *: ClSd: diameter of largest
tentacular club sucker in dorsal-most (closest to
swimming keel) longitudinal row [CISId].
Club Sucker ventral *: ClSv: diameter of largest
tentacular club sucker in ventral-most (opposite
swimming keel) longitudinal row [CISIv].
Eye Diameter: ED: diameter of eye [EDI].
Egg Length *: EgL: length of egg [EgLI].
Egg Width *: EgW: width of egg [EgWI).
Free Funnel length: FFu: the length of the funnel from
the anterior funnel opening to the point of its dorsal
attachment to the head [FFul].
Fin Insertion anterior *: Fla: anterior origin of fin
measured from mantle margin to anterior-most
junction of fin and mantle [FIIa].
Fin Insertion posterior*: FIp: measured between
posterior junctions of fins with mantle [FIIp].
Funnel Length: FuL: the length of the funnel from the
anterior funnel opening to the posterior margin
measured along the ventral midline [FuLI].
Fin Width: FW: greatest width of single fin [FWI].
Gill Lamellae Count: GiLC: number of lamellae on
outer demibranch including the terminal lamella.
Gill Length *: GiL: length of gill [GiL]).
Head Length: HL: dorsal length of head measured from
point of fusion of dorsal arms to anterior tip of
nuchal cartilage [HLI).
Head Width: HW: greatest width of head at level of
eyes [HWI].
Loculus Length *: LoL: length of the last loculus
(ventral anterior smooth zone of the cuttlebone)
[LoL].
Mantle Length: ML: dorsal mantle length. Measured
from anterior-most point of mantle to posterior
apex of mantle.
Mantle Width: MW: greatest straight-line ventral width
of mantle [MWI].
Spine Length *: SL: length of spine [SLI].
Spermatophore Length: SpL: length of spermatophore
[SpLI].
Spermatophore Width: SpW: greatest width of
spermatophore. Spermatophore width index is
expressed as a percentage of spermatophore length
[SpwI).
Striated Zone length: StZ: length of striated zone of
cuttlebone [StZI].
Transverse Row Count: TrRC: number of suckers in
longitudinal series on tentacular club (counted
from proximal-most basal suckers (carpus) to distal
tip of club).
Ventral Mantle Length: VML: length of ventral mantle
measured from anterior mantle margin at ventral
midline, to posterior apex of mantle [VMLI].
94 A. L. REID
APPENDIX 3. Measurements (mm), counts and indices of Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918 from southern Australia.
Museum SAM SAM SAM SAM SAM SAM SAM SAM
Reg. no. D19241 D19243 D19241 D19242 = Di9242 D19240 D19240 D19240
SEX M M M F E F F F
ML 47.2 55.0 75.7 67.9 68.6 93.1 95.5 107.6
MWI 55.1 55.6 51.8 55.5 45.5 54.7 59.8 55.0
AMHI 11.9 15.5 15.3 14.7 13.0 12.8 14.8 17.8
VMLI 85.0 80.7 82.8 85.6 84.8 81.2 81.8 75.3
FWI 11.7 10.2 9.4 7.2 8.2 7.8 9.1 4.4
Fila 5.1 4.5 5.3 2.8 3.2 4.9 3.7 2.0
FIIp 6.4 8.0 74 5.6 12.4 10.3 4.7 6.7
FuLI 40.3 34.5 27.7 34.6 34.3 25.6 30.4 28.8
FFul 20.1 14.5 17.2 14.7 16.8 19.3 12.6 13.0
HLI 25.6 27.5 29.7 23.9 13.4 40.8 30.3 35.8
HWI 38.1 44.4 35.7 44.0 45.0 40.5 46.6 43.5
EDI 13.3 16.5 12.7 10.0 12.1 12.7 8.9 10.2
ALI 33.9 34.5 35.7 33%] 34.3 37.6 49.2 42.3
ALI2 33.9 30.9 29.1 31.7 35.7 39.2 42.4 42.8
ALI3 38.1 33.6 29.1 37.6 34.3 41.4 44.0 43.7
ALI4 43.4 40.9 34.3 39.0 42.3 41.9 51.3 44.6
ASIn1 1.69 1.36 1.32 1.47 1.53 172 1.68 1.77
ASIn2 1.48 1.36 1.59 1.47 1.53 2.15 1.68 1.77
ASIn3 1.48 1.36 1.59 1.47 1.75 2.15 1.78 E77,
ASIn4 1.69 1.36 1.32 1.33 1.56 2.15 1.78 1.77
ASC1 118 112 116 148 144 106 106 144
ASC2 140 152 148 148 156 130 175 176
ASC3 148 132 144 200 172 157 164 172
ASC4 180 208 164 240 248 193 212 224
ASInl4m 0.42 0.40 0.26 - ~ - ~ -
CILI 17.2 - 13.2 18.6 16.2 - 21.2 24.2
CIRC 10 10 10 10 10 - 9 10
TrRC 42 - 32 36 32 - 40 34
CISI 0.42 0.40 0.53 0.40 0.47 - 0.52 0.46
CISId 0.42 0.40 0.42 0.40 0.47 - 0.52 0.46
CISIv 0.42 0.40 0.29 0.32 0.32 - 0.52 0.46
GiLC 29 29 29 29 30 - - -
GiLI 35.0 24.9 30.1 29.5 38.2 - 33.6 34.5
SpLI 12.3 11.6 10.4 ~ - - - -
SpWI 3.45 4.69 5.06 ~ - - - -
EgDI - - - - - 2.7 322, 2.5
CbL 46.2 55.0 - - 69.3 100.5 99.8 107.0
CbWI 38.1 34.7 - - 37.8 35.5 33.4 33.9
CbBI 10.4 9.6 - ~ 11.8 9.9 10.2 11.9
SLI - - - - - 4.7 Se -
StZI 61.3 65.1 - - 66.8 65.6 64.1 -
LoLI 35.9 32.2 - - - 28.7 30.1 33.6
LoL/StZ (%) 58.7 49.4 ~ - - 43.7 46.9 -
REVISION OF SEPIA HEDLEYI 95
APPENDIX 4. Measurements (mm), counts and indices of 10 male Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918 from eastern
Australia.
Museum MV MV AM AM AM MV MV MV MV AM
Reg.no. F77136 F77179 C152623 C152623 C152623 F77136 F77136 F77136 F77136 C152623
ML 75.9 84.3 84.8 85.7 86.1 87.0 90.9 91.7 100.5 103.5
MWI 53.0 49.2 50.7 48.4 49.2 54.6 51.7 54.1 48.1 46.6
AMHI 16.2 15.1 12.5 13.0 15.0 14.4 13.3 12.5 11.9 14.9
VMLI 88.8 88.3 89.2 91.4 87.8 90.9 90.4 88.3 81.9 88.3
FWI 9.6 11.4 9.4 10.5 8.2 10.5 12.7 9.8 5.6 10.9
Fila 4.2 3.3 3.8 4.8 4.8 6.6 3.7 3.8 7.0 4.4
FIlIp 5.8 3.0 5.8 5.6 Ted 75 3.5 8.2 4.5 8.6
FuLI 32.9 31.2 30.4 31.0 31.1 36.6 30.3 31.7 32.7 30.7
FFul 14.5 15.4 15.2 ATT 15.2 18.4 15.4 20.7 16.8 13.0
HLI 30.4 23.3 317. 27.3 31.6 30.9 23:7 30.9 30.3 26.5
HWI 38.3 38.7 35.1 36.6 36.5 40.9 40.9 38.8 - 34.3
EDI 15.5 11.0 13.2 14.0 11.0 12.0 13.1 15.7 12.5 12.3
ALT 38.2 33.2 33.6 32.8 26.7 37.4 33.0 33.8 27.9 26.1
ALI2 34.3 32.0 30.7 31.5 25.6 37.4 34.1 31.6 27.9 32.9
ALI3 36.9 32.0 34.2 32.7 29.0 36.8 31.9 28.4 31.4 33.3
ALI4 40.8 37.4 36.6 30.2 30.8 40.2 34.1 37.6 40.6 32.8
ASIn1 1.54 1.59 1.42 1.27 1.21 1.64 1.43 1.42 1.42 1.22
ASIn2 1.45 1.48 1.13 1.33 1.02 1.49 1.43 1.56 1.42 1.28
ASIn3 1.37 1.48 1.49 1.46 1.30 1.64 1.43 1.56 1.42 1.39
ASIn4 1.45 1.48 1.27 1.25 1.11 1.64 1.43 1.42 1.42 1.16
ASC1 96 93 72 89 76 93 89 86 92 119
ASC2 136 128 105 106 93 126 124 120 135 121
ASC3 139 142 121 112 101 124 124 142 144 123
ASC4 204 202 171 151 102 185 178 196 - 140
ASInl4m 0.47 0.37 0.25 0.28 0.29 0.36 0.40 0.36 0.39 0.20
CILI 13.7 15.5 15:3 17.4 14.2 16.1 15.8 15.5 15.8 19.8
CIRC 12 11 11 12 11 12 12 12 12 12
TrRC 36 32 31 31 36 34 35 33 35 39
CISI 0.51 0.52 0.65 0.53 0.64 0.60 0.43 0.43 0.52 0.68
ClSId 0.51 0.66 0.65 0.46 0.64 0.45 0.35 0.35 0.52 0.53
CISIv 0.38 0.52 0.35 0.42 0.35 0.45 0.43 0.39 0.39 0.48
GiLC 30 31 34 32 27 33 32 32 32 32
GiLI 30.3 26.0 27.9 30.9 33.7 33.6 26.7 29.8 - 22.2
SpLI 10.9 8.7 - - - 9.7 9.1 9:2 8.5 -
Spwl 3.15 3.01 - - - 4.62 3.15 4.62 4.55 -
CbL 75.8 85.1 84.8 - - 86.5 92.7 90.0 100.2 101.6
CbWI 36.1 35.6 32.0 - - 34.9 32.9 34.7 31.2 31.3
CbBI 10.0 10.5 10.0 - - 9.5 9.2 9.9 10.0 9.0
SLI - 4.3 4.1 - - - 2.8 3.0 3.9 2.6
StZI 63.6 60.2 59.0 - - 46.6 66.1 61.7 65.0 64.5
LoLI 37.6 33.0 32.5 - - 34.0 28.5 31.1 31.8 29.4
LoL/StZ (%) 59.1 54.9 55.2 - - 73.0 43.1 50.5 49.0 45.6
96 A. L. REID
APPENDIX 5. Measurements (mm), counts and indices of 10 female Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918 from eastern
Australia.
Museum MV MV MV MV MV MV MV MV MV MV
Reg. no. F77179 ~=F77136 = F77136—s-F77136 —s-F77136 =~-F77136 =F77136 =F77136 =F77179_ ~——F77138
ML 83.1 89.0 91.7 94.7 99.1 99.4 99.8 102.1 103.8 108.8
MwWI 51.9 52.2 52.1 51.3 S34 46.7 51.9 58.1 47.1 51.5
AMHI 16.1 12.9 12.3 14.8 15.9 13.6 13.9 14.8 13.2 14.8
VMLI 85.0 91.0 91.1 89.2 86.0 90.0 89.7 87.9 86.6 88.8
FWI 12.0 10.1 11.7 11.9 11.6 12.4 10.5 11.0 9.6 74
Fila 4.5 7.0 4.1 4.9 3.6 4.0 4.2 3.1 4.6 6.3
FiIp 13.7 8.4 4.3 6.7 6.6 7A 5.1 2.8 4.5 7.2
FuLI 30.7 38.3 34.4 32.5 32.2 33.7 33.6 32.6 27:3 35.2
FFul 16.8 15.7 17.4 18.5 18.2 18.1 16.5 16.7 15.4 13.3
HLI 27.0 21.3 37.1 26.1 27.7 36.2 39.1 275. 26.8 26.4
HWI 39.4 36.4 39.8 38.5 39.9 41.6 40.7 39.5 38.8 36.5
EDI 12.4 12.4 14.1 11.7 14.3 13.6 12.4 16.4 13.0 12.8
ALTI1 33.7 32.6 38.2 35.9 41.4 342. 36.1 41.1 34.3 31.3
ALI2 34.9 30.3 34.9 32.7 40.4 34.2 36.1 38.2 32.8 35.8
ALI3 36.1 34.8 39.3 34.3 40.4 41.2 41.1 42.6 36.6 32.2
ALI4 39.7 42.7 37.1 39.6 46.4 46.3 38.1 44.1 40.5 41.4
ASIn1 1.56 1.46 1.34 1.58 1.84 1.70 1.56 1.40 1.42 1.43
ASIn2 1.56 1.61 1.48 1.52 1.84 1.70 1.56 1.66 1.45 1.49
ASIn3 1.56 1.46 1.48 1.48 1.84 1.63 1.69 1.66 1.36 1.55
ASIn4 1.72 1.53 1.48 1.52 1.71 1.70 1.69 1.66 1.45 1.55
ASC1 106 112 94 110 120 96 106 102 98 92
ASC2 138 133 158 166 156 156 162 170 142 138
ASC3 150 142 148 192 168 162 154 168 162 138
ASC4 178 162 192 227 204 206 214 110 214 171
CILI 15.4 15.7 15.0 15.2 18.3 16.3 18.5 16.7 15.2 18.4
CIRC 12 12 12 11 12 12 12 12 12 12
TrRC 27 35 47 29 38 30 32 36 30 38
CISI 0.67 0.51 0.43 0.57 0.32 0.71 0.45 0.64 0.72 0.53
ClSId 0.49 0.44 0.43 0.57 0.32 0.58 0.39 0.64 0.75 0.53
ClSIv 0.42 0.40 0.43 0.57 0.32 0.52 0.42 0.44 0.54 0.41
GiLC 28 33 32 30 35 28 31 28 33 30
GiLI 24.5 23.0 25.8 25.3 32.0 30.5 27.5 30.7 27.2 31.6
EgDI 3.9 4.1 5.0 323 4.4 4.8 3.4 3.9 4.8 3.3
CbL 82.1 87.0 89.0 99.7 98.0 99.2 96.6 105.2 104.9 108.0
CbWI 34.0 35.3 34.2 32.1 36.8 34.6 37.9 37.0 35.3 34.3
CbBI 10.0 - 10.1 11.2 9.4 10.9 10.1 9.5 10.0 9.6
SLI 3.3 - ~ 3.3 3.2 - 3.0 4.6 49 -
StZI 65.0 - 79.4 79.4 67.3 65.4 67.7 63.1 63.5 64.6
LoLI 22.4 - 20.6 20.6 21.1 20.3 27.3 30.6 30.9 35.4
LoL/StZ (%) 34.5 - 25.9 25.9 31.4 31.0 40.4 48.5 48.6 54.7
REVISION OF SEPIA HEDLEYI 97
APPENDIX 6. Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918; ranges of arm length indices (ALI), arm sucker diameter indices (ASIn)
and arm sucker counts (ASC) of mature males and females from southern Australia; N = number of specimens,
min. = minimum, max. = maximum, SD = standard deviation.
Males Females
N min. mean max. SD N min. mean max. SD
ALI1 7 25.3 34.9 $5.7 9.8 8 30.6 374 49.2 6.2
ALI2 7 25.9 L5 45.6 6.8 8 27.6 35.8 42.8 5.6
ALI3 7 29.1 33.5 44.3 5.8 8 30.6 33.7 44.0 5.2
ALI4 7 33.8 40.2 54.4 7.2 8 34.7 42.0 $1.3 4.8
ASIn1 3 1.32 146 1.69 0.20 5 1.47 1.63 1.77 0.13
ASIn2 3 1.36 148 1.59 0.11 5 1.47 172 2.15 0.27
ASIn3 3 1.36 148 1.59 0.11 5 1.47 178 2.15 0.24
ASIn4 3 1.32 1.46 1.69 0.20 5 1.33 L72 2.15 0.30
ASC1 3 112 U5 118 3 5 106 130 148 22
ASC2 3 140 147 152 6 5 130 157 176 19
ASC3 3 132 141 148 8 5 157 1733 200 16
ASC4 3 164 184 208 22 5 193 223 248 22
A NEW GENUS AND SIX NEW SPECIES OF DYTISCIDAE
(COLEOPTERA) FROM UNDERGROUND WATERS IN THE YILGARN
PALAEODRAINAGE SYSTEM OF WESTERN AUSTRALIA
C. H. S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
Summary
A new genus and six new species of stygobitic beetles of the family Dytiscidae, subfamily
Hydroporinae, from relatively shallow calcrete aquifers in Western Australia, are described and
figured. The new genus (Nirripirti) and species (N. hinzea) are in the tribe Hydroporini, whlst the
remaining species belong in the tribe Bidessini, namely, Nirridessus challaensis, N. masonensis, N.
fridaywellensis, N. pinnaclesensis and Tjirtudessus raesidensis. The species are members of a rich,
recently discovered, relictual stygofauna, predominantly of Crustacea and Oligochaeta, inhabiting
calcretes lying along palaeodrainage channels. The new genus represents a significant taxonomic
extension of the Australian stygobitic Dytiscidae, being the first Australian stygobitic member of its
tribe. The new species represent a significant geographic extension of Australian stygobitic
Dytiscidae into a new palaeodrainage channel unconnected with any previously examined. Each
calcrete area examined contained a distinct assemblage of beetles often with two species in
sympatry.
A NEW GENUS AND SIX NEW SPECIES OF DYTISCIDAE (COLEOPTERA)
FROM UNDERGROUND WATERS IN THE YILGARN PALAEODRAINAGE
SYSTEM OF WESTERN AUSTRALIA
C. H.S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
WATTS, C. H. S. & HUMPHREYS, W. F. 2001. A new genus and six new species of
Dytiscidae (Coleoptera) from underground waters in the Yilgarn palaeodrainage system of
Western Australia. Records of the South Australian Museum 34(2): 99-114.
A new genus and six new species of stygobitic beetles of the family Dytiscidae, subfamily
Hydroporinae, from relatively shallow calcrete aquifers in Western Australia, are described
and figured. The new genus (Nirripirti) and species (N. hinzeae) are in the tribe Hydroporini,
whilst the remaining species belong in the tribe Bidessini, namely, Nirridessus challaensis, N.
masonensis, N. fridaywellensis, N. pinnaclesensis and Tjirtudessus raesidensis. The species
are members of a rich, recently discovered, relictual stygofauna, predominantly of Crustacea
and Oligochaeta, inhabiting calcretes lying along palaeodrainage channels. The new genus
represents a significant taxonomic extension of the Australian stygobitic Dytiscidae, being the
first Australian stygobitic member of its tribe. The new species represent a significant
geographic extension of Australian stygobitic Dytiscidae into a new palaeodrainage channel
unconnected with any previously examined. Each calcrete area examined contained a distinct
assemblage of beetles often with two species in sympatry.
C. H. S. Watts, South Australian Museum, North Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia 5000.
W. F. Humphreys, Western Australian Museum, Francis Street, Perth, Western Australia 6000.
Manuscript received 1 February 2001.
The presence of an extensive stygofauna
consisting of Crustacea, Oligochaeta and beetles
of the family Dytiscidae living in near-surface
aquifers of the Western Desert areas of Western
Australia has recently been documented by us
(Watts & Humphreys 1999, 2000). In this paper
we report on significant geographic and
taxonomic extensions to the known fauna of
Dytiscidae.
In our two previous papers we described
eleven species of Dytiscidae belonging to three
genera all in the subfamily Hydroporinae. One
genus, Kintingka, known from only one female
specimen, could not unequivocally be placed in
a tribe but the other two genera possessed the
defining synapomorphy for the _ tribe
Bidessini—two-segmented parameres. In the
most recent collection reported on here most
specimens again belonged in the same two
Bidessine genera, Tjirtudessus and Nirridessus.
A series of relatively large specimens from one
location, however, had single segmented
parameres and other morphological characters
in both adults and associated larvae which place
them in the tribe Hydroporini, the first
underground members of this tribe to be
recorded from Australia, although they are a
major component of the stygodytiscidae world-
wide (Spangler 1986).
The Raeside palaeodrainage system (Fig. 40),
from which some of the latest specimens were
collected, is unconnected to the drainage systems
from which we earlier reported underground
Dytiscidae (Watts & Humphreys 2000: Fig. 38);
this represents a significant extension of the
geographical, as well as the taxonomic range, of
the Yilgarn stygofauna. As for the systems
reported in our earlier papers, numerous
specimens of Crustacea—bathynellids,
harpacticoid and cyclopoid copepods, ostracods
and oniscid isopods—and some Oligochaeta and
Hydracarina were collected. As before, the beetles
and larger stygofauna were restricted to aquifers
in areas of calcrete, as is the stygofauna found in
the northern parts of the Western Shield (Poore &
Humphreys 1998; Humphreys 1999 in press). But,
unlike our previous observation that the
stygofauna was found only in narrow bores, thus
seemingly restricted to ‘closed’ aquifers (Watts &
Humphreys 2000), in this recent survey
stygofauna were found to be common in formed-
wells dug for water as well as in narrow bore-
holes drilled for geological purposes, water
monitoring, water pumping or aquifer assessment.
100
C.H.S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
METHODS
The collection methods and measurements of
physicochemical parameters in the water were the
same as in our previous papers (Watts &
Humphreys 1999, 2000).
Abbreviations used:
BES
Prefix for field numbers, WAM
Biospeleology.
SAMA South Australian Museum, Adelaide.
WAM Western Australian Museum, Perth.
SYSTEMATICS
KEY TO AUSTRALIAN SPECIES OF STYGOBITIC
DyTISCIDAE
Profemur with small peg-like structure
close to base; metatibia approximately the
same width throughout 0.0.0... eceeeeeeee
sadseceytiaeereaesese Nirripirti hinzeae sp. nov.
Profemur lacking such a structure;
metatibia narrow at base then strongly
expanding towards apex ........eeeeeeees 2
Body length approximately 1.0 mm; legs
stout, without swimming-hairs on fore-
and Mmidlegs .0...... ses eeeesesseeeeeeeeeeeseeseees
Kintingka kurutjutu Watts and Humphreys
Body length > 1.2 mm; legs normal, all
with swimming-haifS ............eeeeeeeeees 3
Third and fourth (apical) segments of labial
palpi subequal in length; setae on hind
edge of mesofemur not greatly stronger
than those on mesotrochanter; length
> 3.0 mm (Tjirtudessus) ........:000c0+ 14
Third segment of labial palpi half to two-
thirds length of apical; setae on hind edge
of mesofemur near base much stronger
than those on mesotrochanter or elsewhere
on femur; length 1.3-3.2 mm.
(NE TIdESSUS) saicisg cs onayde eben ceiset Oe car incsvnns 4
Pronotal plicae strong, well marked ....5
Pronotal plicae weak, difficult to trace ..
Length of first two segments of metatarsi
> rest; eye remnant present; parameres
with long apical lobe .............eeeeeeeeeee
$ahedegzerss N. pulpa Watts and Humphreys
Length of first two segments of metatarsi
=< rest; without eye remnant; parameres
10.
11.
12.
with small apical lobe ...........ee eee
BS N. morgani Watts and Humphreys
Length => 2.9 mm; eye remnant present;
group of six spines close to base of
mesofemur on hind edge ..............:000
... N. bigbellensis Watts and Humphreys
Length < 2.6 mm; with or without eye
remnant; spines on mesofemur spread out
along hind edge or if restricted to base four
OL TOWEL Nase Siacangiaieoncebcenadp onaavontstyeaieees 7
Row of larger punctures adjacent to suture;
metatrochanters rounded ..............00 8
Without sutural punctures,
metatrochanters bluntly pointed .......... 9
Length 2.2—2.3 mm; with eye remnant ..
N. windarraensis Watts and Humphreys
Length 1.3-1.5 mm; without eye remnant
sisees N. lapostaae Watts and Humphreys
Apical segment of antenna approximately
the same size as penultimate, segments 3
and 4 subequal; pro- and mesotarsi strongly
expanded, approximately equal in size ..
srectaeteas Nirridessus challaensis sp. nov.
Apical segment of antennae approximately
1.5x length of penultimate, segment 3 >
segment 4; protarsus moderately or weakly
expanded, much more so than mesotarsi
bs lvedaneventton ingotnstdsivacttdenpoeettvangt naiteeBbaycenegt 10
Mesofemur with four to five spines spread
out along hind edge in basal half...........
evsiedest sed Nirridessus masonensis sp. nov.
Mesofemur with two to four strong spines
clustered on hind edge close to base.. 11
Mesofemur with four spines near base;
segments 2 and 3 of antennae similar in
size, apical segment approximately 1.5x
penultimate in length........... Nirridessus
cueensis Watts and Humphreys
Mesofemur with two to three strong spines
on hind edge near base; segment 2 of
antenna large and oval, segment 3 much
smaller and thinner, apical segment
approaching 2x length of penultimate ...
ssvareuastav@ivaverercaizseteatheltestesdeasttesspettedt 12
Mesofemur with two strong spines on
hind edge near base; apical segment of
paramere with two finger-like projections
wheats Nirridessus pinnaclesensis sp. Nov
Mesofemur with three strong spines on
hind edge near base; apical segment of
paramere with one finger-like projection
Wire sa Mecuegin toaua depended daevapaerueap bubedadet vatahe 13
NEW UNDERGROUND DYTISCIDAE, WESTERN AUSTRALIA 101
Apical lobe of paramere overlapping rest
of apical segment; central lobe pointed;
protarsus weak, similar in size to mesotarsi;
segment 3 of antenna >> segment 4 in
lengthNirridessus fridaywellensis sp.nov.
— Apical lobe of paramere well separated
from rest of apical segment; central lobe
bluntattip; segment 3 of antenna> segment
4 in length; protarsus moderately
expanded, mesotarsus less SO «1.0.4...
Nirridessus hinkleri Watts and Humphreys
14. — Pro- and mesotarsi strongly expanded;
apical four segments of antennae
noticeably thinner than others................
Lashes tavererdetySpacB ye M caetudbgedesnsed Tjirtudessus
magnificus Watts and Humphreys
— Pro- and mesotarsi only moderately
expanded; apical four segments of
antennae not narrower than others..... 15
15. — Length >3.8 mm; pronotum a little
narrower than elytra ...........::eeeeeeeeee 16
— Length <3.8 mm; pronotum wider than
GL YU As 0. .tchercaserBettendecserrenzes Tjirtudessus
eberhardi Watts and Humphreys
Metatrochanters rounded at tip; central
lobe of aedeagus straight, tip pointed;
with small eye remnant ...........0:::cceeee
endeas Tjirtudessus raesideensis sp. nov.
— Metatrochanters pointed at tip; central lobe
of aedeagus twisted, tip knobbed; without
SYS TEMMANE: ves sesessecgesassgetevestincesegeseg heres
Tjirtudessus hahni Watts and Humphreys
16. —
Tjirtudessus Watts and Humphreys, 1999
Tjirtudessus raesideensis sp. nov.
(Figs 1--7)
Types
Holotype: m. ‘BES 8354, Salt Well, Lake
Mason Station, 27°32'24"S, 119°37'27"E, 24/6/00,
coll W. F. Humphreys, S. Hinze’ in spirit, WAM
27601.
Paratypes: 32, as for holotype, 19 SAMA, 13
WAM 27602-27615; 22, ditto except ‘BES
8355’, 10 SAMA, 12 WAM 27616-27627; 2,
ditto except ‘BES 8350’, SAMA.
Description (number examined, 57)
Habitus. Length 3.5-4.0 mm; relatively flat,
weakly constricted at junction of pronotum/
elytra; uniformly light testaceous; hindwing
vestigial, about half length of elytron.
Head. Narrower than elytra; smooth,
reticulation very weak, punctures sparse, very
small; subparallel in posterior half, widest just
behind eye remnant; eye remnant reduced to
narrowly-oval structure. Antenna relatively stout;
basal two segments cylindrical, third segment as
long but narrower and narrowing towards base,
next seven subequal but becoming progressively
shorter, apical segment a bit longer than
penultimate; each segment, except segment 1,
with some very small setae on inside apically (Fig.
7). Maxillary palpus elongate, apical segment a
little shorter than segments 1 to 3 combined,
oblique row of long setae on outer side, tip
truncated. Labial palpus elongate, apical two
segments subequal, tip weakly bifid, penultimate
segment with two setae near tip (Fig. 6).
Pronotum. Almost as wide as elytra;
anteriolateral angles projecting strongly forward;
base quite strongly narrowed, posterolateral angles
acute; smooth, with sparse, very weak punctures
and a row of stronger punctures along front
margin; basal plicae moderately marked, straight,
reaching to about halfway along pronotum,
slightly excavated inwards; with row of long setae
laterally, denser towards front.
Elytra. Not fused, lacking inner ridges;
elongate, widest behind middle, smooth, sparsely
covered with very small punctures, row of widely
spaced larger punctures close to inner edge;
numerous setiferous micropunctures towards apex
and near base; row of long setae near lateral edge,
a few additional larger punctures with long setae,
more frequent towards sides. Epipleuron broad in
anterior fifth, then rapidly narrowing to be
virtually absent over rest of elytron.
Ventral surface. Prothoracic process strongly
narrowed between coxae, not reaching
mesosternum, apical half narrow, almost parallel-
sided, strongly arched in lateral view with highest
point (viewed ventrally) between coxae.
Mesocoxae in contact at midline. Metasternum
sharply triangular in front in midline, wings very
narrow, broadly rounded in midline behind.
Metacoxal plates large, metacoxal lines
moderately widely spaced, reaching to about
halfway to metasternum, evenly diverging; a few
small setae-bearing punctures towards midline;
closely adpressed to first abdominal ventrite. First
and second ventrites fused, sutural lines distinct
towards midline, becoming indistinct laterally,
ventrites 3 to 5 mobile, sparsely covered with
small seta-bearing punctures, ventrites 3 and 4
with a long central seta or bunch of long setae.
Legs. Protibia relatively narrow, inner edge
102
1 2 3
Sess
Ca
5
C.H.S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
FIGURES 1-7. Tjirtudessus raesideensis: 1, lateral view of central lobe of aedeagus; 2, ditto dorsal view; 3,
paramere; 4, mesotrochanter and mesofemur; 5, metatrochanter and metafemur; 6, labial palpus; 7, dorsal view.
Scale bar represents 1 mm.
straight, outer edge bowed, widest past middle
where it is about 3x its basal width; protarsi
expanded, first segment broad narrowing at base,
second segment a little narrower about one-third
length of first, third segment as long as first but
much narrower and very deeply bifid, fourth
segment very small and hidden within lobes of
third segment, apical segment narrow,
cylindrical, about length of third, segments 1 to
3 with very dense covering of adhesive setae;
claws short and simple. Mesotrochanter elongate
with row of setae on inner edge; mesofemur with
row of eight to nine relatively weak setae along
hind edge in basal half (Fig. 4); mesotarsi similar
to protarsi. Metatrochanter tip rounded (Fig. 5);
metafemur elongate, lacking spines; metatibia
strongly curved, widening towards apex;
metatarsi elongate, basal segment longest, apical
segment much longer than fourth, segments 1
and 2 in combination about as long as others;
claws weak.
Male. Antennae a little stouter; pro- and
mesotarsi a little stouter. Median lobe of aedeagus
variable in width along shaft, tip bluntly pointed;
paramere broad, apical segment with long, narrow,
apical lobe well separated from rest of segment
(Figs 1-3).
Etymology
Named after the palaeodrainage system in
which it was collected.
Remarks
In size and in the relatively narrow pronotum,
T. raesideensis most nearly resembles T. hahni
but differs from this species in the more gracile
fore- and midlegs, thinner antennae, more
rounded tips to the metatrochanters and the
presence of a small eye remnant which is absent
in T. hahni. The aedeagi of the two species are
quite different. It is smaller than T. magnificus
with a narrower prothorax and much weaker pro-
and mesotarsi. Tjirtudessus eberhardi is a little
smaller with a broad pronotum and different
aedeagus.
NEW UNDERGROUND DYTISCIDAE, WESTERN AUSTRALIA 103
Nirridessus Watts and Humphreys, 1999
Nirridessus challaensis sp. nov.
(Figs 8-14)
Types
Holotype: m. ‘BES 8319, Nyung well, Challa
Station, 27°59'18"S, 118°31'03"E, 22/6/00, coll
W. F. Humphreys, S. Hinze’, slide mounted, in
spirit, WAM 27668.
Paratypes: 1, as for holotype, WAM 27669; 3,
‘BES 8346, Nyung well, Challa Station,
27°59'18"S, 118°31'03"E, 23/6/00, coll W. F.
Humphreys, S. Hinze’, 2 SAMA, 1 WAM 27671.
Description (number examined, 5)
Habitus. Length 2.3-2.5 mm; relatively flat,
moderately constricted at junction of pronotum/
elytra; uniformly light testaceous; hindwing
vestigial, about half length of elytron.
Head. Large, nearly as wide as elytra; smooth,
weakly reticulate, a few small scattered punctures
more numerous near antennal bases; subparallel
in posterior half; eye remnant reduced to small
12
triangular to oval area beneath head. Antenna
relatively stout; basal segment cylindrical, second
weakly ovoid, third segment about same length
but narrower at base, fourth slightly smaller, next
six subequal, apical segment a bit longer and
slightly narrower than penultimate; each segment,
except segments 1 and 4, with some very small
setae on inside apically (Fig. 14). Maxillary
palpus, elongate, apical segment large, about
length of segments 1 to 3 combined, an oblique
row of long setae on outer side near tip, tip
truncated. Labial palpus moderate, apical segment
longer that penultimate, tip weakly bifid,
penultimate segment with small papilla near tip
bearing two setae (Fig. 13).
Pronotum. Broad, as wide as elytra;
anteriolateral angles projecting strongly forward;
base moderately strongly narrowed, posterolateral
angles acute; smooth, with sparse, very weak
punctures more numerous towards the front
margin; basal plicae very weak, slanting inwards,
reaching to about halfway along pronotum,
slightly excavated inwards; with row of long setae
laterally, denser towards front.
la ‘R
( \)
wae
\ |
NS 4 ZAI
14 {
FIGURES 8-14. Nirridessus challaensis: 8, lateral view of central lobe of aedeagus; 9, ditto dorsal view; 10,
paramere; 11, mesotrochanter and mesofemur; 12, metatrochanter and metafemur; 13, labial palpus; 14, dorsal
view. Scale bar represents 1 mm.
104
Elytra. Not fused but tightly closed, lacking
inner ridges; elongate, widest behind middle,
smooth, sparsely covered with scattered punctures
larger laterally, row of small serial punctures in
centre of elytron; setiferous micropunctures in
basal fifth; a few scattered punctures with long
setae, more frequent towards sides and apex.
Epipleuron rather narrow in anterior fifth, then
rapidly narrowing to be virtually absent over rest
of elytron.
Ventral surface. Prothoracic process strongly
narrowed between coxae, not reaching
metasternum, apical half spatulate, strongly
arched in lateral view with highest point (viewed
ventrally) between coxae. Mesocoxae nearly in
contact at midline. Metasternum sharply
triangular in front in midline, wings very narrow,
broadly rounded in midline behind. Metacoxal
plates large, metacoxal lines weak, widely
spaced, reaching to about halfway to
metasternum, diverging in anterior two-thirds;
virtually impunctate except for a few towards
midline; closely adpressed to first abdominal
ventrite. First and second ventrites fused, sutural
lines distinct, ventrites 3 to 5 mobile, virtually
impunctate except for some small seta-bearing
punctures towards anterior edge of ventrites,
ventrites 3 and 4 with a long central seta or
bunch of long setae.
Legs. Protibia relatively narrow, edges straight,
widest near apex where it is about 3x its basal
width; protarsi moderately expanded, first
segment broadly oval, second segment as broad,
about one-third length of first, third segment as
long as first but narrower and very deeply bifid,
fourth segment very small and hidden within lobes
of third segment, apical segment narrow,
cylindrical, about length of third, segments 1 to 3
with dense covering of adhesive setae; claws short
and simple. Mesotrochanter oval with row of fine
setae on inner edge towards apex; mesofemur with
row of five to six relatively weak setae along hind
edge in basal half (Fig. 11); mesotarsi similar to
protarsi. Metatrochanter weakly pointed (Fig. 12);
metafemur elongate, lacking spines; metatibia
curved, widening towards apex; metatarsi
elongate, basal segment longest, apical segment a
little longer than fourth, segments 1 and 2 in
combination about as long as others; claws weak.
Male. Antennae a little stouter; pro- and
mesotarsi a little stouter. Median lobe of aedeagus
quite broad, weakly narrowing in apical quarter,
tip blunt; paramere broad, apical segment with
broad apical lobe folded over basal portion of
apical segment (Figs 8-10).
C.H.S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
Etymology
Named after Challa Pastoral Station, the
location of the calcrete area in which it occurs.
Remarks
Nirridessus challaensis is a moderately large
species without a row of large punctures adjacent
to the suture. It can be recognised by the row of
five relatively weak (for Nirridessus) spines on
the mesofemur, the relatively broad pro- and
mesotarsi, and by the antenna which has
segments—including segments 3, 4 and the apical
one—of approximately the same length.
Nirridessus fridaywellensis sp. nov.
(Figs 15-21)
Types
Holotype: m. ‘BES 8379, Bore at Shearing
Quarters, Depot Springs Station,
27°55'50"S, 120°04'45"E, 26/6/00, coll W. F.
Humphreys, S. Hinze’ in spirit, WAM 27628.
Paratypes: 2, as for holotype, 1 SAMA, 1
WAM 27629, slide mounted; 4, ‘BES 8401, Site
425, Depot Springs, 28°03'00"S, 120°02'21"E,
28/6/00, coll W. F. Humphreys, S. Hinze’, 2
SAMA, 2 WAM 27630-27631; 3,. ‘BES 8406,
Friday Well, Depot Springs, 28°03'36"S,
120°04'03"E, 28/6/00, coll W. F. Humphreys, S.
Hinze’, 2 SAMA, 1 WAM 27632, slide mounted.
Additional specimen: 1, f., ‘BES 8374 Gums
Well Depot Spring’ SAMA. This specimen may
also belong to this species but a male is needed to
confirm the identification.
Description (number examined, 10)
Habitus. Length 1.7—1.8 mm; relatively flat,
strongly constricted at junction of pronotum/
elytra; uniformly light testaceous; hindwing
vestigial, about quarter length of elytron.
Head. Relatively small, narrower than elytra;
smooth, weakly reticulate, almost impunctate;
subparallel in posterior half; sides with dark
suture in middle near anterior edge. Antenna
relatively stout; basal segment cylindrical, second
large, oval, third segment almost as long, much
narrower, narrowing towards base, next six
subequal, apical segment about twice as long as
penultimate; each segment, other than 1 and 4,
with some very small setae on inside apically (Fig.
21). Maxillary palpus thin, elongate, apical
segment large, a little shorter than segments 1 to 3
combined, oblique row of long setae on outer side
near tip, tip truncated. Labial palpus moderate,
NEW UNDERGROUND DYTISCIDAE, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
19
105
'
4
.
Y
a lp,
\y we)
C=)
b
)
g
L/
4
iY
Q
‘a \
!
:
21
FIGURES 15-21. Nirridessus fridaywellensis: 15, lateral view of central lobe of aedeagus; 16, ditto dorsal view;
17, paramere; 18, mesotrochanter and mesofemur; 19, metatrochanter and metafemur; 20, labial palpus; 21, dorsal
view. Scale bar represents 1 mm.
apical segment longer than penultimate, tip
weakly bifid, penultimate segment with small
papilla near tip bearing two setae (Fig. 20).
Pronotum. Narrower than elytra; anteriolateral
angles projecting strongly forward; base strongly
narrowed, posterolateral angles acute; smooth,
with very sparse, very weak punctures more
numerous towards the front margin; moderately
reticulate; basal plicae absent; with row of long
setae laterally, denser towards front.
Elytra. Not fused, lacking inner ridges;
elongate, widest behind middle, smooth, evenly
covered with sparse very small punctures, central
row of serial punctures hard to trace; some
setiferous micropunctures near apex and along
sutural line, very sparse or lacking at base; row of
long setae near lateral edge, a few additional
larger punctures with long setae, more frequent
towards sides; moderately reticulate. Epipleuron
broad in anterior fifth, then rapidly narrowing to
be virtually absent over rest of elytron.
Ventral surface. Prothoracic process strongly
narrowed between coxae, not reaching
metasternum, apical half spatulate, strongly arched
in lateral view with highest point (viewed
ventrally) between coxae. Mesocoxae in contact at
midline. Metasternum sharply triangular in front
in midline, wings very narrow, broadly rounded in
midline behind. Metacoxal plates large, metacoxal
lines absent; virtually impunctate; moderately
reticulate; closely adpressed to first abdominal
ventrite. First and second ventrites fused, sutural
lines distinct, ventrites 3 to 5 mobile, virtually
impunctate except for ventrites 3 and 4 with a
long central seta or bunch of long setae.
Legs. Protibia relatively narrow, edges straight,
evenly diverging, widest at apex where it is about
4x its basal width; protarsi little expanded, first
segment oval, second segment as wide as about
one-half length of first, third segment as long as
first and as wide, deeply bifid, fourth segment
very small and hidden within lobes of third
106
segment, apical segment narrow, cylindrical,
about twice length of third, segments 1 to 3 with a
few adhesive setae; claws short and simple.
Mesotrochanter elongate oval with a few fine
setae on inner edge; mesofemur with three strong
setae/spines on hind edge close to base (Fig. 18);
mesotarsi similar to protarsi. Metatrochanter
weakly pointed (Fig. 19); metafemur elongate,
lacking spines; metatibia strongly curved,
widening towards apex; metatarsi elongate, basal
segment longest, apical segment a little longer
than fourth, segments 1 and 2 in combination
about as long as others; claws weak.
Male. Antennae a little stouter; pro- and
mesotarsi a little stouter. Median lobe of aedeagus
relatively wide, narrowing rapidly in apical quarter
into a long thin tip; paramere broad, apical
segment with narrow, curved, apical lobe not, or
only marginally, overlapping basal portion of
apical segment (Figs 15-17).
Etymology
Named after one of the wells in which it occurs.
Remarks
Nirridessus fridaywellensis is a small
Nirridessus with elytron lacking a row of serial
punctures. It can be separated from similar species
by the lack of pronotal plicae, three spines on the
mesofemur and the form of the aedeagus.
Nirridessus masonensis sp. nov.
(Figs 22-28)
Types
Holotype: m. ‘BES 8357, Salt Well, Lake
Mason Station, 27°32'24"S, 119°37'27"E, 24/6/00,
coll W. F. Humphreys, S. Hinze’, slide mounted,
WAM 27633.
Paratypes: 36, as for holotype, 16 SAMA, 20
WAM 27634-27653; 13, as for holotype except
‘BES 8356’, WAM 27654-27666; 1, as for
holotype except ‘BES 8354’, WAM 27667; 8, as
for holotype except for BES 8351’, SAMA.
Description (number examined, 59)
Habitus. Length 1.6-1.9 mm; relatively flat,
moderately strongly constricted at junction of
pronotum/elytra; uniformly light testaceous;
hindwing vestigial, a bit over half length of
elytron (Fig. 28).
Head. Narrower than elytra; smooth,
reticulation very weak, a few sparse small setae-
bearing punctures; subparallel in posterior half;
C.H.S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
eye remnant reduced to single dark suture in
middle near anterior edge. Antenna relatively
stout; basal segment cylindrical, second large,
oval, third segment shorter, narrower, narrowing
towards base, fourth smaller, more parallel-sided,
next six subequal, apical segment about twice
length of penultimate; each segment, except
segments 1 and 4, with some very small setae on
inside apically (Fig. 28). Maxillary palpus
elongate, apical segment large, a little longer than
segments | to 3 combined, a diagonal row of long
setae on outer side, tip truncated. Labial palpus
moderate, apical segment longer than penultimate,
tip weakly bifid, penultimate segment with small
bulge near tip bearing two setae (Fig. 27).
Pronotum. A little narrower than elytra;
anteriolateral angles projecting strongly forward;
base quite strongly narrowed, posterolateral angles
acute; smooth, with sparse, weak punctures more
numerous towards front margin; basal plicae
weak, reaching to about halfway along pronotum,
slanting slightly inwards; with row of long setae
laterally, denser towards front.
Elytra. Not fused but tightly closed, lacking
inner ridges; elongate, widest behind middle,
smooth, sparsely covered with very small
punctures, a row of serial punctures in middle of
each elytron; setiferous micropunctures in basal
fifth and near apex; row of long setae near lateral
edge; a few additional larger punctures with long
setae, more frequent towards sides. Epipleuron
broad in anterior fifth, then rapidly narrowing to
be virtually absent over rest of elytron.
Ventral surface. Prothoracic process strongly
narrowed between coxae, not reaching
metasternum, apical half spatulate, strongly arched
in lateral view with highest point (viewed
ventrally) between coxae. Mesocoxae in contact at
midline. Metasternum bluntly triangular in front
in midline, wings very narrow, broadly rounded in
midline behind. Metacoxal plates large, metacoxal
lines very weak, widely spaced, reaching to about
halfway to metasternum, diverging weakly in
anterior third; virtually without punctures except
for a few near midline; closely adpressed to first
abdominal ventrite. First and second ventrites
fused, sutural line distinct in inner half, ventrites
3 to 5 mobile, sparsely covered with small seta-
bearing punctures, ventrites 3 and 4 with a long
central seta or bunch of long setae.
Legs. Protibia relatively narrow, inner edge
Straight, outer edge bowed, widest past middle
where it is about 3x its basal width; protarsi
weakly expanded, first segment reticulate, second
segment as broad, about one-half length of first,
NEW UNDERGROUND DYTISCIDAE, WESTERN AUSTRALIA 107
22
tf th
25
CQ ee
28
FIGURES 22-28. Nirridessus masonensis: 22, lateral view of central lobe of aedeagus; 23, ditto dorsal view; 24,
paramere; 25, mesotrochanter and mesofemur; 26, metatrochanter and metafemur; 27, labial palpus; 28, dorsal
view. Scale bar represents 1 mm.
third segment as long as first and as wide,
moderately bifid, fourth segment very small and
hidden within lobes of third segment, apical
segment comparatively stout, cylindrical, about
1.5x length of third, segments 1 to 3 with covering
of adhesive setae; claws short and simple.
Mesotrochanter elongate-oval with one or two
weak setae on inner edge; mesofemur with row of
six to seven strong setae/spines along hind edge in
basal half (Fig. 25); mesotarsi similar to protarsi.
Metatrochanter bluntly pointed (Fig. 26);
metafemur elongate, lacking spines; metatibia
strongly curved, widening towards apex; metatarsi
elongate, basal segment longest, apical segment a
little longer than fourth, segments 1 and 2 in
combination about as long as others; claws weak.
Male. Antennae a little stouter; pro- and
mesotarsi a little stouter. Median lobe of aedeagus
relatively wide, narrowing in apical quarter to
blunt tip; paramere broad, apical segment with
pronounced, narrow, apical lobe well separated
from rest of apical segment (Figs 22-24).
Etymology
Named after the type location.
Remarks
Nirridessus masonensis is a small Nirridessus
with the elytron lacking a row of large sutural
punctures. It can be recognised by the relatively
numerous well spread out spines on the
mesofemur, obsolete lateral portion of the suture
between the first and the second ventrite, and the
long apical lobe to the paramere, which is well
separated from the rest of the apical segment.
Nirridessus pinnaclesensis sp. nov.
(Figs 29-35)
Type
Holotype: m. ‘BES 8397, Site 432, Pinnacles
Station, 28°15'27"S, 120°07'37"E, 28/6/00, coll
W. F. Humphreys, S. Hinze’, slide mounted,
WAM 27672.
108
Description (number examined, 1)
Habitus. Length 1.5 mm; relatively flat,
strongly constricted at junction of pronotum/
elytra; uniformly light testaceous; hindwing
vestigial, about half length of elytron.
Head. Moderate, narrower than elytra; smooth,
virtually without reticulation, virtually impunctate;
subparallel in posterior half, widest just behind
eye remnant; eye remnant reduced to broad dark
suture in middle near anterior edge. Antenna
stout; basal segment cylindrical, second almost
round, third shorter, thinner, narrower at base,
fourth about half length of third, next six
subequal, apical segment twice as long as
penultimate; each segment, except segments 1 and
4, with some very small setae on inside apically
(Fig. 35). Maxillary palpus, elongate, apical
segment large, a little longer than segments 1 to 3
combined, an oblique row of long setae on outer
side towards tip, tip truncated. Labial palpus with
apical segment longer than penultimate, tip
weakly bifid, penultimate segment with small
bulge near tip bearing two setae (Fig. 34).
Pronotum. About as wide as _ elytra;
ASS
C. H.S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
anteriolateral angles projecting strongly forward;
base quite strongly narrowed, posterolateral angles
acute; smooth, virtually impunctate; basal plicae
absent (or at least not traceable on mounted
specimen); with some long setae laterally, denser
towards front.
Elytra. Not fused, lacking inner ridges;
elongate, widest behind middle, smooth, weakly
reticulate, very sparsely covered with small
punctures, row of serial punctures in centre of
elytron; setiferous micropunctures at apex, base
and near suture; row of long setae near lateral
edge, a few additional larger punctures with long
setae, more frequent towards sides. Epipleuron
broad in anterior fifth, then rapidly narrowing to
be virtually absent over rest of elytron.
Ventral surface. Prothoracic process strongly
narrowed between coxae, not reaching
metasternum, apical half triangular, strongly
arched in lateral view with highest point (viewed
ventrally) between coxae. Mesocoxae in contact at
midline. Metasternum sharply triangular in front
in midline, wings very narrow, broadly rounded in
midline behind. Metacoxal plates large, metacoxal
{|
/
i
|
FIGURES 29-35. Nirridessus pinnaclesensis: 29, lateral view of central lobe of aedeagus; 30, ditto dorsal view;
31, paramere; 32, mesotrochanter and mesofemur; 33, metatrochanter and metafemur; 34, labial palpus; 35, dorsal
view. Scale bar represents 1 mm.
NEW UNDERGROUND DYTISCIDAE, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
lines long, moderate, widely spaced, reaching to
about halfway to metasternum, weakly diverging;
sparsely covered with small setae-bearing
punctures; closely adpressed to first abdominal
ventrite. First and second ventrites fused, sutural
lines distinct, ventrites 3 to 5 mobile, very
sparsely covered with small seta-bearing
punctures, ventrites 3 and 4 with a long central
seta or bunch of long setae.
Legs. Protibia relatively broad, inner edges
straight, widest past middle where it is about 3x
its basal width; protarsi weakly expanded, first
segment broadly oval, somewhat asymmetrical
with outer side less expanded, second segment
broad about one-half length of first, third segment
as long and wide, quite deeply bifid, fourth
segment small and hidden within lobes of third
segment, apical segment narrow, cylindrical,
about twice length of third, segments 1 to 3 with
some adhesive setae; claws short and simple.
Mesotrochanter elongate with a few fine setae on
inner edge; mesofemur with row of 2 very strong
setae/spines on hind edge close to base (Fig. 32);
mesotarsi less expanded than _protarsi.
Metatrochanter tip rounded (Fig. 33); metafemur
elongate, row of small spines near inner edge;
metatibia strongly curved, widening towards apex;
metatarsi elongate, basal segment longest, apical
segment a little longer than fourth, segments 1
and 2 in combination about as long as others;
claws weak.
Male. Median lobe of aedeagus broad, apical
quarter beak-like; paramere short, broad, apical
segment formed into two long narrow lobes (Figs
29-31).
Etymology
Named after the Pinnacles Pastoral Station on
which the specimens were found.
Remarks
Only one specimen is known of this small
Nirridessus. Distinctive characters are the unusual
beak-shaped central lobe to the aedeagus and two
long lobes at the tip of the paramere, only two
spines at the base of the mesofemur and short,
stout antennae with a relatively long apical
segment.
Nirripirti gen. nov.
Diagnosis/Description
Elongate—oval, relatively flat; eyeless; uniformly
light testaceous; surface reticulate, meshes small,
109
relatively even; punctures small, sparse; scutellum
not visible dorsally. Pro- and mesotarsi
pseudotetramenous; metatrochanters almost
completely exposed, metafemur narrow, impunctate,
metatibia relatively even in width. Pronotal process
strongly arched, not reaching mesosternum;
mesocoxae meeting. Male with one segmented
parameres; central lobe of aedeagus simple.
Remarks
We place this genus in the Hydroporini on the
strength of its relatively small size, lack of visible
scutellum, straight even-width hind tibia, simple
hind tarsi, simple even-sized hind claws, relatively
narrow pronotal process, and single segmented
parameres.
Its relationships within the Australian
Hydroporini are not obvious. Its
pseudotetramenous pro- and mesotarsi would
seem to rule out Sternopriscus and Necterosoma;
likewise, the shape of and lack of punctation on
the metafemur would rule out Megaporus,
Antiporus, Tiporus and Sekaliporus. By default as
much as anything, we tentatively suggest that its
sister genus could be Paroster. Its strong
reticulation, elongate flattened shape and
relatively simple aedeagus resemble some species
in this genus but other characters, such as the
elongate hind legs and lack of a basal epipleural
stria on the elytra, negate any obvious
relationship. A proper cladistic study, coupled
with biochemical studies, will be needed to
adequately determine its relations with other
Australian genera.
Etymology
Western Desert Language; Nirri-nirri, beetle
and pirti, well/shaft.
Type species
Nirripirti hinzeae sp. nov.
Nirripirti hinzeae sp. nov.
Types
Holotype: m. ‘BES 8404, Friday Well, Depot
Springs, 28°03'36"S, 120°04'03"E, 28/6/00, coll
W. F. Humphreys, S. Hinze’ in spirit, WAM
27673.
Paratypes: 3, as for holotype, WAM 27674—
27676; 16, ‘BES 8405, Friday Well, Depot
Springs, 28°03'36"S, 120°04'03"E, 28/6/00, coll
W. F. Humphreys, S. Hinze’, 10 SAMA, 6 WAM
27677-27682.
110
Description (number examined, 20)
Habitus. Length 2.8-3.0 mm; elongate,
relatively flat, slightly depressed in sutural region
weakly constricted at junction of pronotum/elytra;
uniformly light testaceous; hindwing vestigial,
reduced to tiny flap.
Head. Large, nearly as wide as elytra; smooth,
moderately strong reticulation with small even
meshes, virtually impunctate except a few near
antennae bases; subparallel in posterior half; eye
remnant reduced to a dark suture in middle near
anterior edge. Antennal segments 3 to 5 thinner
than rest, apical segment a bit longer and narrower
than penultimate, each segment with some very
small setae on inside apically (Fig. 39). Maxillary
palpus elongate, apical segment longer than
penultimate segment, some long setae towards
apex of segments. Labial palpus with apical two
segments subequal, tip weakly bifid.
Pronotum. Narrower than elytra; anteriolateral
angles projecting strongly forward; base
moderately narrowed, posterolateral angles
obtuse; quite strongly reticulate, virtually
impunctate except towards front margin; some
long setae at edge towards front.
Elytra. Not fused, lacking inner ridges;
37
FIGURES 36-39. Nirripirti hinzeae: 36, lateral view of
central lobe of aedeagus; 37, ditto dorsal view; 38,
paramere; 39, dorsal view. Scale bar represents 1 mm.
C. H.S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
elongate, widest behind middle, smooth, covered
with fine reticulation; a few scattered small
punctures, several rows of widely spaced small
punctures; setiferous micropunctures at base, apex
and along suture line, a few additional larger
punctures with long setae, more frequent towards
sides. Epipleuron very weakly differentiated from
rest of elytron, broad in anterior quarter, then
gradually narrowing to middle, virtually absent
over rest of elytron.
Ventral surface. Prothoracic process strongly
narrowed between coxae, not reaching
metasternum, apical half spatulate, strongly arched
in lateral view with highest point (viewed
ventrally) between coxae. Mesocoxae in contact at
midline. Metasternum bluntly pointed in front in
midline, wings very narrow, rather narrowly
rounded in midline behind. Metacoxal plates
large, metacoxal lines absent; virtually
impunctate; closely adpressed to first abdominal
ventrite. First and second ventrites fused, sutural
lines distinct in inner half, indistinct laterally,
ventrites 3 to 5 mobile, virtually impunctate
except for a few long central seta or bunch of
long setae.
Legs. Profemur with small peg-like structure on
NEW UNDERGROUND DYTISCIDAE, WESTERN AUSTRALIA 111
hind edge adjacent to protrochanter; protibia
narrow, widest past middle where it is about 3x its
basal width; protarsi expanded, first segment
broadly triangular, second segment about one-half
length of first, third segment as long as first,
deeply bifid, fourth segment very small and
hidden within lobes of third segment, apical
segment narrow, cylindrical, about length of third,
segments 1 to 3 with dense covering of adhesive
setae; claws short and simple. Mesotrochanter
elongate with a few fine setae at apex; mesofemur
with row of four to five strong setae/spines along
hind edge in basal half; mesotarsi similar to
protarsi. Metatrochanter elongate/oval; metafemur
elongate, lacking spines; metatibia weakly curved,
approximately the same width throughout;
metatarsi elongate, basal and apical segments
longest, subequal, segments 1 and 2 in
combination much shorter than others; segments 2
to 5 without spines other than at apex; claws
weak.
Male. Little difference from female. Median
i11s¢
27°
Western
Australia
L
119°
lobe of aedeagus narrowing rapidly in apical
quarter; paramere broad at base, apical half thin,
tip with a bunch of long setae. (Figs 36-38).
Etymology
Named after Susan Hinze, the co-collector of
the specimens.
DIscussiOoN
Site characteristics and associated fauna
The material treated here represents the results
of sampling from 89 sites, of which 44 were
narrow tube bores and 45 were open pastoral
wells. Thirteen of these sampling sites yielded
Dytiscidae, seven from wells and six from bores
(Fig. 40). Both Amphipoda and Ostracoda were
taken from 19 sites, and Copepoda (cyclopoid and
harpacticod) from 12 sites. All Dytiscidae were
taken from calcrete aquifers. The dytiscids occur
in a stygal assemblage that includes other dytiscid
a2
10 y
11 einstere
12
FIGURE 40. Map showing the distribution of stygobitic species of dytiscids in Australia. Numbers denote: 1,
Austin Downs; 2, Cue; 3, Challa north; 4, Paroo; 5, Lake Violet; 6, NE Lake Way; 7, Hinkler Well; 8, Mount
Windarra; 9, Lake Mason north; 10, Depot Springs north; 11, Depot Springs south; 12, Pinnacles. Outlined areas
denote undifferentiated sediments in the palaeodrainage channels, while shaded areas denote calcrete. The northerly
trending dotted line denotes the divide between the Indian Ocean and inland drainages (Beard 1998). Drawn from
Geological Survey (1989).
112
C.H.S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
TABLE 1. Taxa taken from the same wells as the dytiscid species
Dytiscid species Sympatric taxa
Nirridessus challaensis
Nirridessus fridaywellensis
Nirridessus masonensis
Nirridessus pinnaclesensis -
Tjirtudessus raesideensis
Nirripirti hinzeae
species, amphipods, bathnellid syncarids,
ostracods, cyclopoid and harpacticod copepods,
and phreodrilid oligochaetes whose diversity has
yet to be examined (Table 1). In other calcrete
aquifers of the Western Shield of Australia,
sympatry of congeners of various crustaceans is
common (Bradbury 2000).
Water quality
The electrical conductivity of the water from
which the Dytiscidae were recorded varied from
3.9 to 12.3 mS/cm, a salinity of approximately
2.3-7.3 g/L total dissolved solids (Table 2). While
these waters are saline, they do not approach the
high salinity, around 22 g/L, found near Lake Way
(Watts & Humphreys 2000). However, the surface
water may have been diluted by fresh water owing
to unusually high rainfall in the six months prior
to sampling; shallow calcrete aquifers are
responsive to periodic recharge through the karst
and may exhibit marked changes in both water
Amphipoda, Ostracoda, Copepoda, verms
Nirripirti hinzeae, Amphipoda, Ostracod, Copepoda, Bathynellacea, verms
Tjirtudessus raesideensis. Amphipoda, Copepoda
Nirridessus masonensis. Amphipoda, Copepoda
Nirridessus fridaywellensis. Amphipoda, Ostracoda, Copepoda.
level and salinity (Watts & Humphreys 2000). The
pH and oxygen levels were within the range
previously recorded for the stygobit Dytiscidae
(Watts & Humphreys 2000).
Distribution
The general geological, climatic and
biogeographical setting of the fauna discussed
here is described elsewhere (Humphreys 1999,
2001; Watts & Humphreys 1999, 2000). Dytiscid
specimens were collected from five separate
calcrete deposits (Table 3): 1, Challa north; 2,
Lake Mason north; 3, Depot Springs north; 4,
Depot Springs south; and 5, Pinnacles. Site 1 is
located in the Austin palaeodrainage that drains
towards the Indian Ocean and is part of the upper
Murchison catchment lying to the east of Lake
Austin. The other sites were from the inland-
draining Raeside palaeodrainage that lies to the
south of the Carey palaeodrainage, from which it
has been entirely separated since at least the
TABLE 2. Physicochemical measurements of water at some dytiscid sites
Date Conductivity Temp pH O,
(mS/cm) (°C) (%)
Friday Well
28/6/00 5.2) 15.1 7.89 39%
Salt Well, Lake Mason
24/6/00 12.3 18 8.00 -
Shearing Quarters Bore, Depot Springs
26/6/00 6.8 22 7.38 -
Site 425, Depot Springs
28/6/00 5.5 25 - -
Nyung well, Challa Station
22/6/00 3.9 20.4 7.67 39%
Site 432, Pinnacles Station
28/6/00 11.4 24.5 7.62 =
Depth to/of Dytiscids present
water (m)
2.5/1 Nirripirti hinzeae sp. nov.
Nirridessus fridaywellensis sp. nov.
5.5/0.56 Nirrid. masonensis sp. nov.
T. raesidensis sp. nov.
1.5/9.5 Nirrid. fridaywellensis sp. nov.
2.7/10 Nirrid. fridaywellensis sp. nov.
4/2 Nirrid. challaensis sp. nov.
4.5/36 Nirrid. pinnaclesensis sp. nov.
NEW UNDERGROUND DYTISCIDAE, WESTERN AUSTRALIA
113
TABLE 3. The distribution of stygal species of dytiscids amongst discrete calcrete bodies (1-12) in the Yilgarn
district of Western Australia. The separate palaeodrainage systems (A-C) and the Indian Ocean and interior
drainages are indicated. Numbers denote the locations in Fig. 40. Common superscripts 1-6 denote sympatric
species
Genus
Calcreted body Tjirtudessus Nirridessus Kintingka _Nirzipirti gen. nov.
A. Western drainage: Austin palaeodrainage
1 Austin Downs - bigbellensis - -
2 Cue magnificus? cueensis* - -
3 Challa north - challaensis sp. nov. - -
B. Eastern drainage: Carey palaeodrainage
4 Paroo eberhardi? pulpa kurugjute =
5 Lake Violet - undescribed sp. - -
6 NE Lake Way hahni morgani - -
7 Hinkler Well - hinkleri = -
8 Mount Windarra -
C. Eastern drainage: Raeside palaeodrainage
9 Lake Mason north raesidensis sp. nov.
10 Depot Springs north* = —
11 Depot Springs south* —
12 Pinnacles -
windarraensis* lapostaae* — -
masonensis sp. nov.* - -
fridaywellensis sp. nov. - -
fridaywellensis sp. nov.® -
pinnaclesensis sp. nov. - -
hinzeae sp. nov.®
* Depot Springs north and Depot Springs south are separate expressions of calcrete at the surface but are considered
to be a continuous calcrete body by the pastoralist (M. Cavallaro, personal communication, 26 June 2000).
Cretaceous (Humphreys 1999 in press), and in
which there are many stygal dytiscid taxa (Watts
& Humphreys 1999, 2000). The distribution of
taxa by calcrete body is shown in Table 3.
As found previously (Watts & Humphreys
1999, 2000), each species is restricted to a
single calcrete region (Table 3) and half the
sites contain sympatric non-congeneric
Dytiscidae. Owing to the sparse sampling of
many species, a more detailed sampling of these
aquifers would be expected to increase the
number of sites containing Dytiscidae, and may
show species to be more widely distributed than
currently found.
The prediction of a much richer fauna of
stygobitic Dytiscidae in Western Australia (Watts
and Humphreys 2000) has been fulfilled. Since
only about 10% of the major calcrete deposits in
the palaeodrainage channels of Western Australia
(Humphreys 1999) have been sampled for
stygofauna, it is likely that numerous additional
subterranean Dytiscidae, as well as other
stygobitic taxa, especially Crustacea, remain to be
discovered in the northern Yilgarn region.
This paper reaffirms that the dytiscid fauna of
the Northern and Eastern Goldfields areas of the
Yilgarn is uniquely diverse by world standards.
Molecular work has commenced to determine the
origins and evolution of this diverse stygofauna.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is a pleasure to acknowledge the assistance of
Susan Hinze in the field sampling and sorting; Julianne
Waldock for laboratory processing; Rob Gutteridge
(Adelaide) for drawing the illustrations. We thank
Kevin Morgan and Philip Commander for access to
information about bore locations and for unstinting
access to their knowledge of the Yilgarn aquifers.
Information about the locations of, and access to,
sampling sites was kindly provided by many pastoralists
in the region.
114
C.H.S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
REFERENCES
BEARD, J. S. 1998. Position and development history
of the central watershed of the Western Shield,
Western Australia. Journal of the Royal Society of
Western Australia 81: 157-164.
BRADBURY, J. H. 2000. Western Australian stygobitic
amphipods (Crustacea: Paramelitidae) from the Mt
Newman and Millstream regions. Records of the
Western Australian Museum, Supplement No. 60: 1-
102.
GEOLOGICAL SURVEY 1989. Hydrogeological map
of Western Australia, 1:2,500,000. Geological
Survey of Western Australia: Perth.
HUMPHREYS, W. F. 1999. Relict stygofaunas living
in sea salt, karst and calcrete habitats in arid north-
western Australia contain many ancient lineages.
Pp. 219-227 in ‘The Other 99%. The Conservation
and Biodiversity of Invertebrates.’ Eds W. Ponder &
D. Lunney. Transactions of the Royal Zoological
Society of New South Wales: Mosman, NSW.
HUMPHREYS, W. F. 2001. Groundwater calcrete
aquifers in the Australian arid zone: the context to an
unfolding plethora of stygal biodiversity. Records of
the Western Australian Museum Supplement No. 64:
63-83.
POORE, G. C. B. & HUMPHREYS, W. F. 1998. First
record of Spelaeogriphacea from Australasia: a new
genus and species from an aquifer in the arid Pilbara
of Western Australia. Crustaceana 71: 721-742.
SPANGLER, P. J. 1986. Insecta: Coleoptera. Pp. 622—
632 in ‘Stygofauna. A Faunistic, Distributional and
Ecological Synthesis of the World Fauna inhabiting
Subterranean Waters (Including the Marine
Interstitial)’. Ed. L. Botosaneau. E. J. Brill: Leiden.
WATTS C. H. S. & HUMPHREYS W. F. 1999. Three
new genera and five new species of Dytiscidae
(Coleoptera) from underground waters in Australia.
Records of the South Australian Museum 32(2):
121-142.
WATTS C. H. S. & HUMPHREYS, W. F. 2000. Six
new species of Nirridessus Watts and Humphreys
and Tjirtudessus Watts and Humphreys (Dytiscidae:
Coleoptera) from underground waters in Australia.
Records of the South Australian Museum 33: 127-
144.
AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL CULTURES GALLERY ‘THE SPEAKING
LAND’: A REVIEW ARTICLE
J. V. S. MEGAW
Summary
[M]useums are representations of the societies in which they are situated ... They are repositories of
culture, machines for recontextualization, and platforms for the creation and promotion of cultural
heritage. (Ames 1992 : 47)
AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL CULTURES GALLERY
‘THE SPEAKING LAND’: A REVIEW ARTICLE
J. V.S. MEGAW
MEGAW J .V.S. 2001. Australian Aboriginal Cultures Gallery ‘The Speaking Land’: a review
article. Records of the South Australian Museum 34(2): 115-125.
J. V. S. Megaw, Department of Archaeology, Flinders University, GPO Box 2100, Adelaide,
SA 5001; vincent.megaw @ flinders.edu.au. Manuscript received 18 June 2001.
[M]useums are representations of the societies in which they are
situated...They are repositories of culture, machines for recontextualization,
and platforms for the creation and promotion of cultural heritage. (Ames
1992: 47)
It has often occurred to me that the normal
manner of reviewing various forms of major
public manifestations, be they plays, opera or
ballet, at the very beginning of their existence
before they have grown into some degree of
harmony with what is perceived to be the original
intent of their creator(s), is about as meaningless
as trying to assess a major new museum project
too soon after its public opening.
The new Australian Aboriginal Cultures Gallery
at the South Australian Museum is no longer so
new. So how are we to offer a critique, now well
over a year after that major event in the calendar
of cultural innovations along the cultural drag that
is Adelaide’s North Terrace, the opening of the
Gallery by the Premier of South Australia on
3 March 2000? Certainly it seems a far cry from
the publication of the Edwards Report with its
largely damning comments on the situation as it
was then on the North Terrace and its guidelines
for future improvement (Edwards 1981: 89-96).
Firstly, it must be remembered that, like all
critiques purporting to be objective, this present
article is one person’s view of a complex whole
which itself attempts to reflect varying human
reactions to varying environments over more—
almost certainly much more—than 50 000 years.
Also, given the Museum’s laudable and
continuing involvement of indigenous
Australians—another feature which continues a
key recommendation of the Edwards Report —
while my comments may reflect contemporary and
personal contacts with varying groups and
individuals from contemporary indigenous
Australian society, I am of course not an
indigenous Australian. Perhaps the Anthropology
Editor of these Records should commission a
second article to add an indigenous voice to these
whitefella comments — albeit that too would be
only one voice among many.
It is no excuse—if excuse is needed—to add that,
like practically any outsider who has been accepted
into a remote indigenous community, I too have an
indigenous name plus all the responsibilities of a
whole new group of ‘skin’ relations. It hardly needs
to be emphasised that there is nothing mystical in
this system of ‘honorary’ relationships; it is a
purely practical solution to a practical problem, of
locating us others within the community. But any
outsiders who find themselves in a similar situation
and think that they are thereby entering a true state
of ‘Aboriginality’, or that they have passed some
form of initiation, are deluding themselves; Bruce
Chatwin (1987), among others, has much to answer
for.
Secondly, the enormity of the task that the
Museum’s curatorial and adjunct staff, materially
assisted by the project’s Sydney-based designers
and multimedia consultants, set themselves has
been nothing less than ambitious. Philip Jones,
who wrote the original brief for the Australian
Aboriginal Cultures Gallery (hereafter AACG—
the plural in ‘Cultures’ is significant) but since
then seems, enviably, to have moved from the
hurly-burly of museum curatorial work to a life of
almost uninterrupted research, stated in 1996 that
the new gallery would seek
to present an encyclopaedic view of Aboriginal
material culture and traditions which cannot be
duplicated elsewhere. The depth of the
Museum’s artefact and archival collections,
together with our commitment to a working
partnership, will ensure that result’ (quoted in
Kean 2001).
116
Philip Clarke (2001), who really had the overall
responsibility for bringing the AACG from
concept to reality, has stated the aim rather more
succinctly:
The main aim of the exhibition is to describe the
technologies used by Aboriginal people who
have lived in the climatically variable continent
of Australia for over 50,000 years.
In its attempt to achieve this, the exhibition
team has used 3000 of the Museum’s total of
around 30000 Aboriginal ethnographic
specimens. This is a very impressive proportion,
considering that most museums rarely have more
J.V.S. MEGAW
than a twentieth of their collections on public
display. Until very recently, ethnographical
collections have been the Cinderellas of the
museum world. Despite a renaissance of interest
in material cultural studies (as Reynolds 1989 has
noted), there is still a shortfall in staffing, both to
curate and to manage collections. Leaving on one
side the question of the disadvantages as opposed
to the benefits of dividing these often ill-defined
duties, Reynolds recorded the results of a survey
of museums as sources of information. He
commented that in Australia in 1981, the average
number of artefacts for which curators in some
FIGURE 1. Level 1, Australian Aboriginal Cultures Gallery, South Australian Museum, showing Dress exhibit with
MacDonnell Ranges exhibit at left rear. Photo © South Australian Museum.
AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL CULTURES GALLERY
nine museums were responsible was around
15 500, with four in his sample exceeding 20 000.
At the present time there are two curators
responsible for the ethnographic collections of the
South Australian Museum and each have well in
excess of 20 000 objects under their care.
The excitement of the opening long since over,
missing labels placed in position, lighting levels
tweaked—but I find them lower than conservation
good practice demands—what are the impressions
one now has as one turns into the Gallery from
the panoramic airiness of the rebuilt main entrance
of the Museum? One Saturday morning I followed
a small school party of ten-year-olds around. The
first reaction was, ‘Isn’t it dark?’ So it mostly is
(Figure 1) and while there are clearly good
conservation reasons for this, I could see nowhere
a visible (!) explanation. This, then, is not a place
to experience, save in miniature, the hard light of
the desert or the blue of the skies of the Great
South Land.
In the AACG both the distant past and the
immediate present appear only as rather slender
bookends to the central theme. While the relative
down-playing of the latter is defensible, particular
in the light—literally—of the indigenous ‘talking
heads’, the former, despite what may be gleaned
from the touch-screens of the ‘Speaking Land’,
seems little more than a display-in-progress, with
precious little space let alone actual material to
support the lengthy timeline. The Museum has
indeed been too long without the services of a
full-time Curator of Archaeology. This is a mere
apology for antiquity which crams into a few
cubic metres what is labelled with excessive
conservatism 50 000 — 60 000 years of indigenous
settlement. True, Roger Luebber’s fascinating, if
still largely unpublished, discoveries in 1973-74
of 10 000-year-old wooden artefacts at Wyrie
Swamp in south-east South Australia are featured
on the ‘Speaking Land’. I looked in vain,
however, for any even halfway reasonable
treatment of the late Graeme Pretty’s excavations,
also yet to be fully published, of the burial ground
at Roonka Flat on the Murray, a site where
archaeology and local indigenous concerns came
together in complete harmony.
Nonetheless, the Australian Aboriginal Cultures
Gallery has been designed not just for indigenous
Australians (though it is clear that without the
cooperation of many indigenous Australians there
would have been no new gallery) and not just for
all Australians, but for all visitors to the Museum,
be they from Jogjakarta or Jamaica, Argentina or
Aberdeen. So there is another test which needs to
117
be applied: how well does the AACG carry out its
overall brief to inform all, whatever be the depth
of their ignorance or their lack of interest in the
face of more pressing matters, such as the latest
modern Disney fairytale or a day at the footy?
There is an enormous plus to this display.
Along the north wall of the gallery as one enters
Level 1, there is a large panel of portraits selected
by Fiona Macdonald. These are mostly
monochrome photographs, with Norman Tindale
and Unaipon sharing the honours with Pastor
Johann Reuter and many others. A few ‘windows’
offer film clips in colour of smiling faces (an
intentional choice to start things on a positive
spin?) but there is no sound. For that one has to
move on to the eight regional sections where
individual voices (literally talking heads) speak to
you (the viewer), drawing you in to the display,
inviting you to be part of it. Everyone must be
attracted to one or other screen, neatly activated
when the visitor stops to read the brief descriptive
label. For me, Judy Lucas speaking of her return
from Adelaide to her family’s ancestral land up
the Birdsville Track eloquently represents the
plight of many that have sought their roots after
long separation.
Here is the Leitmotiv of the AACG. It is not the
static displays which seem to catch the attention
of every visitor but, in a neat marriage between
new technology and ancient rights and beliefs, the
‘Speaking Land’, the title which greets you as you
sink—oh bliss, oh joy—into the liberally
distributed, leather-covered banquettes.
Strategically placed, here are the various touch-
screen monitors that allow one to self-drive
through the various themes, technologies and
regions which make up the AACG; ‘1600 images,
50 video clips, 20 audio clips and 12 virtual
reality sequences’ trumpeted the media release at
the opening.
In parenthesis, while obviously the strengths of
the Museum’s holdings have determined the
content of the ‘Speaking Land’, the total absence
of any coverage of the first significant point of
culture contact in the Sydney—Hawkesbury region,
let alone demonstration of the same region’s rich
rock-art, borders on the parochial. Be that as it
may, the technology—both the software and
hardware, purpose designed and built—certainly
works but one wonders for how long and at what
cost to maintain. I have not been surprised to
observe that most visitors under the age of thirty,
early on in their visit, drift toward the screens like
so many moths attracted to the light on a dark
night.
118
But this is not to complain; on the contrary. The
previous major indigenous ethnographic display
at the South Australian Museum was Ngurunderi:
an Aboriginal Dreaming. This exhibition had
much the same curatorial team as for the AACG,
followed the admirable policy of indigenous
consultation and cooperation, and presented the
story of the Lower Murray and the Coorong
delta—roughly equivalent to the South-East
region in the new display—from prehistory to the
present, with an excellent introductory film,
mixture of text panels, touch-screens, static
displays and, most popular of all, a number of
full-scale dioramas. As I observed some years ago
(Megaw 1990: 81):
In preparing some of the three-dimensional
exhibits for Ngurunderi, despite the long and
almost universal popularity of the South
Australian Museum’s dioramas, the (non-
Aboriginal) design team was concerned to get
away from the earlier types of presentation of
the Aborigine-as-showcase-artefact...In the end
it was decided to use no three-dimensional
figures at all and to restrict any humans to
contemporary illustrations, two dimensional
reconstruction drawings or indistinct background
figures in a landscape...This was certainly not
the wish of several of the Ngarrindjeri advisers
as there have been many questions asked by a
gratifyingly large number of Aboriginal visitors
to the exhibition: ‘Where have all the people
gone?’
After one’s voyage of discovery through the
various modules—an unchartered voyage since it
seems to have been the curators’ and the
designers’ intent that there should be no set
pathway, the wisdom of which I think may be
debatable—many visitors who make their way to
the second, upper, level of the exhibition, may
well feel like the prisoners in the last act of
Beethoven’s Fidelio drawn to the light, in this
case the Indigenous Information Centre. But few
enter it. The Centre, which contains the archives
of the Aboriginal Family History project, is
serving a vital role in continuing to make
available to indigenous Australians its unrivalled
genealogical resources. It seems a pity that more
of the general public are not availing themselves
of yet another computer-based resource and of the
opportunity to speak to indigenous staff,
especially to the tour guides, graduates of
Tauondi’s Cultural Agency (formerly the
Aboriginal Community College).
It has to be said that ‘art’, however you define
that elusive little three-letter word, is not
foregrounded in the AACG. This may be
J. V.S. MEGAW
intentional recontextualisation, to offset the
decontextualisation (the ‘you-don’t-have-to-know-
anything-about-art, just-feel-the-quality’)
approach of the sister institution next door, the
Art Gallery of South Australia. Indeed, some of
the artistic treasures of the AACG are almost
hidden. At the northern end of the second level of
the Gallery is the great acrylic painting, a
cooperative exposition of four separate
‘Dreamings’, commissioned by the Museum in
1996 and executed over a three-day period by no
less than 29 Warlpiri and Anmatyerre men and
women. This cries out for more than the
comparatively brief and distinctly dry explanatory
panel in order fully to unpick the various ‘webs of
relatedness’, to get something of the flavour—let
alone smell—of the context out of which such art
arises (for art it is by anyone’s standards). I can
remember, on my first visit to Papunya 20 years
ago, the shock of realising that great art was being
produced on the desert floor with the camp dogs
lifting their legs on the canvas edges and the
painters literally sitting on the canvas, the better
to execute their share of the composition.
In the temporary display area on the ground
floor there is some attempt to get away from a
sanitised approach to art. Currently there is a
selection from the 30 doors from the school at
Yuendumu painted in 1983 at the invitation of the
school principal by senior Warlpiri men, partly as
an educational tool and partly as a riposte to their
women folk who had already been producing
works on canvas for sale (Warlukurlangu Artists
1987). I observed my sample visitor making a bee-
line for one of the doors and exclaiming ‘Look,
Dad, are there any other tags?’ and pointing to
where—absolutely correctly in my opinion—
ArtLab, in undertaking conservation of the doors,
had not removed the word ‘LIZZIE’.
There is work to be done here on the later
associations of, and reactions to, the Yuendumu
doors. This material should then be included in
the data bank of the ‘Speaking Land’, though I
was delighted to see inclusion of a clip from the
Film Australia’s film ‘Dreamings’ made by
indigenous film-maker and photographer Michael
Riley to accompany the block-buster exhibition of
the same name. I looked but did not see evidence
of use of the ABC’s brilliant film made in 1989
starring Dr Christopher Anderson (Director of the
Museum during the AACG’s development stage),
a work which demonstrated that a little liquid
lubrication does wonders for one’s fluency in
speaking extempore to camera. Market of Dreams
must surely rank as one of the best visual studies
AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL CULTURES GALLERY
dealing with aspects of ‘ethnographic’ art and is
worthy to take its place beside Curtis Levy’s Sons
of Namatjira, made for the then Australian
Institute of Aboriginal Studies in 1974.
Despite its relative down-playing of
contemporary material culture, whether of outback
communities or town and city, in many ways it
seems to me that the AACG stands up well in
comparison to the exhibits in other institutions.
One may cite attempts in Melbourne, Canberra
and Sydney to make the ‘today’ as well as the
‘yesterday’ of indigenous Australia intelligible to
a world in which we not they are the ‘other’. By
119
and large, these seem to have succumbed to the
tyranny of the designer, liberally assisted by more
than a touch of political correctness, not to be
confused with sensitivity towards indigenous
concerns, a sensitivity which clearly suffuses
much of the AACG.
Consider in contrast Bunjilaka at the new mega-
Museum of Victoria (which sidelines the
archaeological perspective—Russell 2000), the
‘Gallery of First Australians’ in Canberra’s
National Museum of Australia (which opened in
March 2001—for a brief description see: Anon.
2001 and for a less-than-enthusiastic review see
FIGURE 2. Level 2, Australian Aboriginal Cultures Gallery, South Australian Museum, showing Play exhibit, ‘The
kukuru game’. Photo © South Australian Museum.
120
Mundine 2001), or the first to redesign its public
galleries, the Australian Museum in Sydney. All
three demonstrate a clear polemic in favour of a
number of contemporary issues, a matter by no
means shirked in Adelaide’s AACG. While these
other new displays rate ten out of ten for
presenting “The Important Issues’, they get barely
a pass mark for presentation. In Canberra, the
individual cases with their heavy stainless steel
frames, and small objects often dominated by
metal supports, together with the general open-
plan design of the Museum, may be summed up
in one word—‘unsympathetic’. It is a relief to
move into the reserve collections and return to the
principles of open storage.
After all, there is nothing that dates so quickly
as fashions in design. Certainly one can only
admire, tinged with envy, the obviously generous
publication budget available to the National
Museum but, just as in its current displays (which
seem at times to be closer to street theatre than to
the stereotypical serried ranks of glass museum
cases), there are some odd omissions. To produce
a catalogue (Taylor 2001), let alone an exhibition,
showing concepts of the land as seen through
J. V. 8S. MEGAW
contemporary indigenous art which includes
neither the acrylic paintings of the Centre nor
Hermannsburg watercolours is taking innovation
too far.
Adelaide’s AACG is in certain ways a
surprisingly old-fashioned display. Examine the
division into technological themes (Figure 2) such
as boomerangs, spears, glue (vital indeed, since
the development of adhesive permitted, for
example, the manufacture of multibarbed
projectiles), baskets, drugs, stone tools, watercraft
(a popular item with younger visitors), string and
fire (fire that can destroy and can regenerate life).
In view of the fact that Philip Clarke started out
his professional life as a biologist, it is no surprise
that this taxonomic-cum-evolutionary approach
should be to the fore.
Thus the AACG, despite its apparent
‘modernity’, may be likened to the displays in the
South Australian Museum’s Pacific Gallery.
Further afield, one could point to the older
displays at the Pitt Rivers Museum of the
University of Oxford, which still reflect the
principles of cataloguing and display by type of
object (Figure 3) established by the museum's
FIGURE 3. Pitt Rivers Museum, University of Oxford. Henry Balfour working on the weapons displays in the
Upper Gallery, c. 1890. Photo: © Pitt Rivers Museum, University of Oxford.
AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL CULTURES GALLERY
original benefactor, Lieutenant General Augustus
Henry Lane Fox Pitt Rivers (1827-1900). He
espoused the then new principles of sociocultural
evolutionism, or ‘applied anthropology’ as he
called it. In the context of considering under what
terms he might leave his collection to the Nation
on his death, he declined to make any special
stipulations about ‘the arrangement of the
objects’:
If my system were accepted by men of science,
it would be continued. If it were not, there would
be no object in continuing it. Moreover, views
become so much changed as knowledge
accumulates that it would be mischievous to
hamper the future with ideas of the present
(quoted by Chapman in Cranstone & Seidenberg
1984: 16; see also Bowden 1991: 50-51, Petch
1996). i
Thus he expressed his confidence that his
system was scientifically objective and would
stand the test of time. Plus ca change...
Classification, as we have already noted, is
indeed what museums are about and there are
continuing debates as to how to do it, especially
in the area of (what it is no longer fashionable to
call) ‘ethnographic displays’. In a very percipient
essay born of the author’s experience of the
British Museum’s Museum of Mankind—
currently being returned to its Bloomsbury
home—Durrans considers differing approaches to
the re-presenting (rather than representing) of
cultures undergoing change. ‘Museums are
increasingly criticized not only for the way they
represent certain themes in exhibitions, but also
for their choice in the first place’ and he adds,
‘appreciating the social and cultural setting of an
object does not exhaust and is not a substitute for
an appreciating of the object itself? (Durrans
1988: esp. pp.155—158; on ethical issues and the
use of photo archives see also Pinney 1989).
Michael Ames, the Canadian anthropologist and
museologist, has frequently argued for
‘empowerment’ of those who in the past have so
frequently been denied access to the strong rooms
of their own material past, our museums. In 1976
Ames introduced in the University of British
Columbia’s Museum of Anthropology—surely
one of the world’s most perfectly sited public
buildings—his system of visible storage.
The system operates like a large library or
supermarket, with the exception that customers
can handle objects only under staff supervision;
meanwhile, they have unhindered visual access
to collections and to the catalogue data (Ames
1992: 91, my emphasis).
121
And this is the difference. In Adelaide it is fine
to have the opportunity not only of regular guided
tours but, in particular, the resources of the
Indigenous Information Centre. In the displays
however, as we have already observed, it is visible
information that is really noticeable by its
absence, being either difficult to find or to read
once found, or simply not there (for example, the
31 shields and the 13 feather decorations on the
west wall of Level 2). It seems writ large over
every designer’s CAD screen ‘Thou shall not use
one word when you can get away with none’. The
AACG’s labels, where they exist, are restricted to
the briefest of information as to provenance and
accession and it has become a truism of museum
best practice that one underestimates at one’s peril
the power of language to marginalise (Coxall
2000).
It is not enough to provide that 21st century
equivalent to the fair ground fruit machine — the
touch-screen. As recent research into the effect of
early introduction to computers on learning skills
has shown, it is often detrimental, rather than of
assistance, to understanding. On my half-dozen or
so visits since the Gallery opened, I have
overheard at the Museum Shop requests for ‘more
on the Aboriginal Gallery’ or ‘Haven’t you got
something about the Yuendumu doors?’ There is
of course, but bilingual texts don’t attract your
average museum visitor wanting to know more
but not that much more (see Warlukurlangu
Artists 1987). Too many museum institutions
underrate the public’s desire for portable
information, the movable relic, the link with the
artefact. It is rare to find in museum visitors’
books comments that echo Samuel Goldwyn Jnr’s
Philistine cry: ‘Don’t confuse my mind with
facts—it’s already made up’.
Commencing with the wall of portraits, the still
images as well as archival film employed in the
displays represent but the tip of another resource
iceberg. The danger is that the archival images,
like icebergs, can ‘sink the ship’. It may well be
argued that photography retains a certain
immediacy, an assurance of contextual truth and
realism which can assist the appreciation of the
object better even than three-dimensional
reconstructions which, however realistic, remain
just that. But the camera captures only an aspect
of truth. For one thing, as soon as the photograph
has been taken it becomes an historical document
(and for some people irrelevant or, worse,
mistaken as a representation of the present).
Further, we see the subject not through the lens of
the camera so much as through the eyes of the
122
photographer, a particular human being with his
or her own cultural inheritance and assumptions.
The best that can be hoped for is that the viewer
can perceive what it was that drew the
photographer’s attention at that particular place
and at that moment in time.
For many people, Baldwin Spencer’s pioneering
images of the turn of the 20th century, or
Tindale’s of no more than a generation ago, have
become (mere) historic curiosities; they have
started to represent just that kind of exotica which
is what first attracted museums to collect. David
Attenborough, who has done so much to broaden
our horizons to encompass much of what has
heretofore lain outside our normal ken, is still
within the tradition of the exotica hunter.
We are reminded when we look at such
technically superb still images as those produced
by Charles Mountford or Axel Poignant, or more
recently Penny Tweedie, that there is the aesthetic
intent in photography to consider as well. In a
study of a curator from the American Museum of
Natural History who collected and photographed
in the Congo before World War II, Mirzoeff
(1998: 169) notes how the
photograph is transformed by intimacy from a
document into art...Any reading of photography
is dogged by the cultural construction of the
photograph as either observed truth or
transcendent art.
Conscious of this dilemma, the Edwards Report
advises:
Great care must be taken to associate the audio-
visual presentation directly with actual objects
and displays in the museum, so it is not just an
event in its own right, but also an integral part of
the museum (Edwards 1981: 90).
Not so much a case of caveat emptor as
‘beware anthropologists bearing cameras and
exhibition teams waving photographs’.
One may add here that something of the same
kind of problem of creation and control arises in
the recording and subsequent storage of sound.
Why is it that the archival voice-overs of the early
film used in the AACG sound stilted, foreign,
almost exotic in contrast to the immediacy, the
‘relevance’ of the indigenous talking heads? It is
not just a matter of improved recording
technology and playback facilities. ‘Imagination’
and ‘political motivation’ have been emphasised
as being essential in exploiting the immense
possibilities of recorded sound in the museum
setting (Silver 1988: 194).
Despite the explicit statements of intent already
J. V.S. MEGAW
quoted, there is in fact something of a lack of
detail in the philosophy behind the AACG. I do
not know what sort of comparative research went
into planning the AACG. If one were to look for
prior guidance, despite the obvious common
ancestry in the colonial foundations of our older
museums and the best efforts of COMA (the
Conference of [Australian] Museum
Anthropologists), there has been comparatively
little published in Australia on various aspects of
museums and material culture, in contrast with
the situation overseas. To whole volumes in the
field one must add the admirable journal produced
by the Museum Ethnographers Group in the
United Kingdom, which I have had cause to cite
at various points in this review (Barringer & Flynn
1998; Pearce 1989; Shelton 1997; compare
Mulvaney 1990).
As to how the punters have reacted to this, the
greatest—and, praise be—free show in Adelaide,
why in fact they come at all, or why many of them
do not first make a bee-line for the fossils and the
much overrated Egyptian Room (a protected
heritage site not so much because of the
Ptolemaic—and frankly hideous—mummies but
rather because the room is such a perfect example
of museum display techniques c. AD 1940), these
are questions to which as yet there are no answers.
According to the Museum, over 850 000 people
have come through its doors during the 16 months
since its re-opening, but it is not known how many
of those visited the AACG, nor is there any
information as to age, socioeconomic grouping or
ethnicity. We know that there have been around
25 000 school children through the AACG during
the same period and several hundred enquiries
made at the Indigenous Information Centre; we do
not know what sales of specifically indigenous
Australian titles there have been at the Museum
Shop strategically placed immediately to the left
of the main entrance, though I have a shrewd idea
that anything to do with dinosaurs would win
hands down.
Certainly there is nothing available which is on
a par with Merriman’s (1989) examination of a
decade ago as to the role that museum visiting
plays in British culture. The total lack, as yet, of
any information about the AACG in general or its
component parts, in any language other than
English, says little for the Museum’s marketing
department or its image in a multicultural world—
though the Museum Shop sports copies of Wally
Caruana’s 1993 introduction to indigenous
Australian art, in both German and French.
Perhaps one needs to consider more the role of
AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL CULTURES GALLERY 123
the museum shop in our museums, again
something which has been discussed for a number
of years in the United Kingdom and elsewhere
(White 1996, 2001).
Yet in one of a handful of serious reviews
devoted to the AACG, or for that matter to any
other display (on this lack see Wehner 2001), John
Kean, far from decrying what he terms ‘the
traditional values of scholarship, the primacy of
the collection and the legacy of the institution’s
own history’, concludes that ‘the brave mood to
run counter to the contemporary museological
currents has resulted in an exhibition of sustained
power and surprising emotive force’ (Kean 2001).
Over all is the image and the voice of Norman
Tindale, the butterfly collector turned
anthropologist whose position in the annals of
indigenous Australian studies has been assured by
nearly 50 years of devotion to the life—past,
present and future—of Aboriginal society and
FIGURE 4. South Australian Museum, Pacific Cultures Gallery. Part of display of shields and stone-headed clubs
from Central Province, Papua New Guinea. Photo: Barry Craig, 1998.
124
culture. Tinny’s legacy is prodigious but Philip
Clarke and his collaborators have produced
something of which all who are interested in
indigenous culture can be proud. Clarke (2001) is
surely right when he comments:
The future challenge for the South Australian
Museum is to maintain the relevance of the
material it displays. Given the flexibility of the
design and the use of the ‘Speaking Land’
interactives, it should be possible for future
curators to reinvigorate the display without
going through a total reinstallation.
Mindful of Pitt Rivers’ words quoted above, we
should remember that a truly static display is a
dead display. By the terms of the definition with
which I started this article, the AACG team has
done well. While I hope that there will indeed be
scope for revision and alteration in the years to
follow (especially with regard to the ‘bookends’ ),
J. V.S. MEGAW
the Australian Aboriginal Cultures Gallery should
remain as a visible example of further movement
towards indigenous empowerment together with
maintenance of the highest standards of
conservation and scientific enquiry—in other
words, just what reconciliation should be all
about.
A final thought: we have waited a long time
for the Australian Aboriginal Cultures Gallery
to become a reality. How much longer will we
have to wait until the ‘foreign’ ethnographic
collections are given the same makeover?
(Figure 4). The disruption to that Gallery
caused by the alterations to the buildings in
1999 have not been made good, with at least a
third of the exhibits lacking information labels
of any kind. And chicken wire has surely had
its day as a feature at the cutting edge of
display technique.
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AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL CULTURES GALLERY
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Journal of Museum Ethnography 13: 37-47.
ELASMOSAUR (REPTILIA : PLESIOSAURIA) BASICRANIAL REMAINS
FROM THE EARLY CRETACEOUS OF QUEENSLAND
BENJAMIN P. KEAR
Summary
A near complete basioccipital and associated elements belonging to a juvenile elasmosaur are
described from the Early Cretaceous (upper Albian) of northern Queensland. This is the first record
of well-preserved elasmosaur basicranial remains from Australia. The basioccipital is comparable to
those known from other elasmosaurs but is unusual in the contribution of the exoccipital-opisthotic
facet to the margin of the occipital condyle (but not to its articular surface) and dorsal termination
of the condylar groove. The significance of this morphology is discussed.
ELASMOSAUR (REPTILIA: PLESIOSAURIA) BASICRANIAL REMAINS FROM THE
EARLY CRETACEOUS OF QUEENSLAND
BENJAMIN P. KEAR
KEAR, B. P. 2001. Elasmosaur (Reptilia: Plesiosauria) basicranial remains from the Early
Cretaceous of Queensland. Records of the South Australian Museum 34(2): 127-133.
A near complete basioccipital and associated elements belonging to a juvenile elasmosaur
are described from the Early Cretaceous (upper Albian) of northern Queensland. This is the
first record of well-preserved elasmosaur basicranial remains from Australia. The basioccipital
is comparable to those known from other elasmosaurs but is unusual in the contribution of the
exoccipital-opisthotic facet to the margin of the occipital condyle (but not to its articular
surface) and dorsal termination of the condylar groove. The significance of this morphology is
discussed.
Benjamin P. Kear, *South Australian Museum, North Terrace, Adelaide South Australia 5000;
and Vertebrate Palaeontology Laboratory, School of Biological Sciences, University of New
South Wales, UNSW Sydney New South Wales 2052; *address for correspondence. Email:
kear.ben@saugov.sa.gov.au. Manuscript received 14 November 2000.
Examination of juvenile elasmosaur remains
(AM F87826) from the Early Cretaceous of
Queensland has revealed a_ previously
unrecognised near complete basioccipital. This
represents the first record of well-preserved
elasmosaur basicranial remains from Australia.
The cranial remains of Australian elasmosaurs are
extremely rare, being confined to a single badly
crushed skull (QM F11050) in which the
basicranium is obscured by overlying elements
and matrix. This specimen was tentatively
attributed to the genus Woolungasaurus by
Persson (1982); however, Thulborn & Turner
(1993) reassigned it to Elasmosauridae indet.,
following Welles (1962) who considered
Woolungasaurus a nomen dubium. A small tooth-
bearing bone interpreted as a plesiosauroid
maxilla by Longman (1935) was shown to be an
ichthyosaurian premaxillary, maxillary or dentary
fragment by Persson (1960). This paper describes
the recovered basioccipital and associated
elements of AM F87826, and provides a brief
character analysis of plesiosaur basioccipital
morphology.
Cranial terminology follows Andrews (1910,
1913), Brown (1981) and Cruickshank (1994).
Institutional abbreviations: AM, Australian
Museum, Sydney; QM, Queensland Museum,
Brisbane; UWA, University of Western Australia,
Perth. All measurements were taken using
callipers and are in millimetres (mm).
SYSTEMATICS
Class REPTILIA
Subclass SAUROPTERYGIA Owen, 1860
Order PLESIOSAURIA de Blainville, 1835
Superfamily PLESIOSAUROIDEA (Gray, 1825)
Welles, 1943
Family ELASMOSAURIDAE Cope, 1869
Elasmosauridae genus and species indet.
Material
AM F87826, a partial neck and base of skull
including the basioccipital, at least 33 cervical
centra, parts of the neural arches, several partial
cervical ribs and miscellaneous fragments. Lack
of fusion between basicranial elements and
associated vertebral centra, neural arches and
cervical ribs indicates that the specimen is a
juvenile.
Locality
‘Dunraven’ Station, near Hughenden, central-
northern Queensland. Toolebuc Formation, upper
Albian (Day 1969; Smart & Senior 1980).
128
Diagnosis
Basioccipital condyle with a squared dorsal
margin and heart-shaped condylar outline.
Exoccipital-opisthotic facets of the basioccipital
contribute to the occipital condyle margin but do
not form part of the condylar surface. Groove
circumscribing the basioccipital condyle
terminates dorsally at the posterolateral edges of
the exoccipital-opisthotic facets. Cervical centra
platycoelous with articular surfaces having an
open V-shaped cross-section and margins which
form an abrupt angle with the centrum sides.
Length of the anterior cervical centra is greater
than their height. Lateral surfaces of cervical
centra bear distinct longitudinal ridges.
Description
Basioccipital. (Fig. 1, Table 1).
The basioccipital has suffered damage to the
left pterygoid facet but is otherwise well
preserved. The anterior basioccipital surface is
dominated by a prominent, deeply rugose facet
B. P. KEAR
TABLE 1. Measurements (mm) of basioccipital AM
F87826, * - not including missing pterygoid facet
portion
Description mm
Total length 29.3
Total width* 34.9
Width across exoccipital-opisthotic facets 24.4
Condyle diameter 19.8
for contact with the basisphenoid. This is
dorsoventrally compressed and reniform in
outline, extending partly onto the anteroventral
surface of the basioccipital. The dorsal-most
facet margin is produced into a narrow
transverse ridge, which borders the posteriorly
inclined anterodorsal surface. This bears a
prominent circular depression with median pit
probably representing part of the posterior wall
of the pituitary fossa or dorsum sellae
(Cruickshank 1994). Chattergee & Small (1989)
FIGURE 1. Basioccipital of AM F87826 in (A) dorsal, (B) ventral, (C) posterior and (D) lateral views. Scale bar is
20 mm.
ELASMOSAUR FROM EARLY CRETACEOUS OF QUEENSLAND
interpreted a similar pit in the basioccipital of
Morturneria (from the Maastrichtian of
Antarctica) as representing the ‘hypophyseal-
basicrania’ fenestra. The anterodorsal circular
depression is medially subdivided by a shallow
vertical groove and bordered laterally by deep
longitudinal channels. These extend posteriorly
onto the rugose dorsal surface. The dorsal
surface of the basioccipital bears a pair of broad
ovoid facets for the exoccipital-opisthotic
elements, which form part of the condylar
margin but do not contribute to the articular
surface (comprised entirely of the
basioccipital). Between the exoccipital-
opisthotic facets is the spindle-shaped floor of
the endocranial cavity. Anteriorly, this expands
into a raised triangular plateau, which bears a
shallow longitudinal depression (extending to a
notch in the anterodorsal margin of the dorsum
sellae) possibly representing the sella turcica
(see Welles & Bump 1949). Anteriorly, the
exoccipital-opisthotic facets are separated from
the small circular prootic facets by low
transverse ridges. The anterior prootic facet
margin is raised and irregular suggesting the
presence of cartilage, possibly supporting a
forward expansion of the prootic onto the
basisphenoid. The anterolateral basioccipital
surfaces are produced into short, massive
pterygoid processes, which terminate in
anterolaterally oriented, triangular pterygoid
facets. The pterygoid facet surfaces are smooth
and separated anteromedially from the rugose
basisphenoid facet by a prominent vertical
flange. The basioccipital condyle is rounded,
lacks a notochordal pit and is weakly heart-
shaped in outline, with the squared dorsal
margin forming the edge of the foramen
magnum. The condylar surface is partly
circumscribed by a shallow groove which
terminates dorsally at the posterolateral edges
of the exoccipital-opisthotic facets.
Axial skeleton. (Fig. 2, Table 2).
At least 33 complete to fragmentary cervical
vertebrae have been recovered, representing
portions of the anterior (Figs 2A, 2B), middle
(Figs 2C, 2D) and posterior (Figs 2E, 2F) cervical
series. Fragmentary remains of the neural arches
and some cervical ribs are also preserved. The
anterior cervical centra are cylindrical and
somewhat dorsoventrally compressed with
centrum length always exceeding the height. This
trend is lost in the middle and posterior cervical
series where the centrum width exceeds the
129
length. There is a marked increase in overall size
of the cervical centra from the anterior to posterior
section of the neck.
The articular surfaces of the centra are
platycoelous, smooth and ovoid in outline,
becoming near elliptical posteriorly. In transverse
cross-section, the articular surfaces of all centra
are an open V-shape, with the margins of the face
forming an abrupt angle with the centrum sides. A
small notochordal pit shallowly indents the centre
of each articular surface. Dorsally, each centrum
bears a prominent median hourglass-shaped
TABLE 2. Measurements (mm) of AM F87826
vertebral centra. Numbering of centra begins at the
anterior-most and does not include the atlas or axis. A
gap including an unknown number of centra is present
between C27 and C28. * — centrum represented only by
fragments
Element Length Width Height
Cl 24.9 22.2 17.7
C2 26.4 22.9 19.1
C3* - - _
C4 - - 21.5
C5 - - 28.1
C6 39.4 - 26.4
C7 42.9 - 29.4
C8 - 33.5 22.2
c9* - - 31.1
C10 49.8 - 33.9
Cll 61.3 = -
C12* - - -
C13 - - 52.4
C14 63.6 - -
C15 62.7 70.8 49.8
C16 67.4 - 50
C17 65.1 74.7 53.9
C18 64.8 73.9 53.1
C19 - 75.6 -
C20 65.2 TAS 54.3
C21 67.1 - 55.9
C22 66.8 78.7 56.4
C23 67.8 78.5 56
C24 66.7 80.1 -
C25 67.7 78.3 56.8
C26 66.7 79.3 -
C27 61.6 91.3 58.9
C28* - - -
C29* - - -
C30 54.2 85.2 50.2
C31 - 80.6 -
C32 44.2 90.6 60.4
C33 57.4 93.1 61.2
130
depression marking the neural canal. In the
anterior-most vertebra, this becomes transversely
narrow towards the anterior margin of the centrum
where the depression is bordered laterally by the
large ovoid facets for the neural arches. The
neural arch facets are deeply concave and situated
close to the anterior margin, becoming more
centrally placed and extending to the edges of
both the anterior and posterior articular facet rims
in successive centra. The neural arch facets are
separated ventrally from the elliptical cervical rib
facets by the deeply concave lateral centrum
surface. The lateral surface of each centrum bears
a distinct longitudinal ridge. The rib facets are
B. P. KEAR
raised, deeply concave and situated close to the
posterior articular rim. The ventral surface of each
anterior centrum is markedly concave and bears
paired nutrient foramina separated by a broad
median-ventral keel. The nutrient foramina
become progressively more laterally placed in
successive vertebra with a corresponding
reduction in prominence of the mid-ventral keel.
The neural arches are fragmentary but preserve
parts of the neural arch body and neural spines.
The neural arches possess thin lateral walls
enclosing the neural canal, and deeply excavated
anterior surfaces. The anterior excavation is tall
and elliptical in outline with a narrow median
FIGURE 2. AM F87826 anterior (C2) cervical centrum in (A) anterior and (B) lateral views; middle (C15) cervical
centrum in (C) anterior and (D) lateral views; and posterior (C27) cervical centrum in (E) anterior and (F) lateral
views. Scale bars are 20 mm.
ELASMOSAUR FROM EARLY CRETACEOUS OF QUEENSLAND 131
vertical septum. The neural spine fragments are
strongly transversely compressed and elliptical in
cross-section.
All recovered cervical ribs are fragmentary and
lack unequivocal associations with the centra. The
cervical ribs are all single headed with
anteroposteriorly elongate and ovoid articular
facets. The articular facet surface is concave and
finely pitted with slightly flared flange-like
margins. The rib shafts are dorsoventrally
compressed and elliptical in cross-section.
Remarks
AM F87826 is comparable in its vertebral
morphology to Cretaceous elasmosaurid material
from elsewhere in Australia (eg Persson 1960, 1982;
Murray 1987), particularly isolated remains from
unspecified (probably Albian) deposits near
Oodnadatta (Freytag 1964), and the Neales River
region (SAM P6181, Persson 1960), South
Australia; and the Late Cretaceous (Cenomanian—
Turonian) Molecap Greensand, Western Australia
(UWA 22034, Long & Cruickshank 1998). All of
these specimens exhibit proportionately short
posterior cervical centra.
AM F87826 can be assigned to Elasmosauridae
indet. on the basis of: (1) platycoelous articular
surfaces on the cervical centra. The presence of
platycoelous articular surfaces is considered an
elasmosaurid synapomorphy by Brown (1981, 1993)
and Bardet et al. (1999). The character-state is also
known to occur in the Maastrichtian cryptoclidid
Morturneria (Chattergee & Small 1989), however
this taxon has more recently been reinterpreted as a
derived elasmosaurid (Bardet et al. 1991); (2)
articular surfaces of cervical centra with open V-
shaped cross-section and margins which form an
abrupt angle with the centrum sides. This is an
apomorphic state potentially uniting all members of
the Elasmosauridae (Brown 1993; Bardet et al.
1999) and can be distinguished from the
plesiomorphic condition in cryptoclidids and
plesiosaurids, in which the articular surfaces are
sigmoidal in cross-section with a raised convex rim
(Brown et al. 1986; Brown 1993); (3) anterior
cervical centra with length greater than their height.
The presence of anterior cervical centra which are
elongate relative to their height is an unequivocal
synapomorphy of all elasmosaurids (Welles 1952;
Brown 1993; Bardet et al. 1999); (4) lateral
longitudinal ridges on the cervical centra. Prominent
longitudinal ridges are present on the lateral surfaces
of the cervical centra in all elasmosaurids,
representing a potential synapomorphy for the group
(Welles 1943, 1952, 1962; Brown 1993; Bardet et
al. 1999). Brown (1981), however, noted that the
feature is variable with ontogeny, being less well
developed in younger individuals.
COMPARISONS AND DISCUSSION
AM F87826 is comparable in its basioccipital
morphology to other elasmosaurs, particularly
Libonectes which also exhibits a squared dorsal
condylar margin and heart-shaped condylar
outline (Carpenter 1997). The specimen is
unusual, however, in the exoccipital-opisthotic
facets participating in the condylar margin, and
subsequent dorsal termination of the condylar
groove. This differs from the common condition
in elasmosaurs, and most other plesiosauroids, in
which the condylar groove completely
circumscribes the occipital condyle, excluding it
from contact with the exoccipital-opisthotic facets
(Welles 1962; Brown 1981; Bardet et al. 1999).
Exclusion of the exoccipital-opisthotic facets from
the condylar rim is also known to occur in
nothosaurids (Rieppel 1994). A character-state
similar to that of AM F87826 is present in the
Rhaetian/Hettangian taxon Thalassiodracon
(Storrs & Taylor 1996) and the Maastrichtian
Morturneria (Chattergee & Small 1989). Such
comparable morphology may be the result of
convergence in the case of Thalassiodracon (as
suggested by the presence of the plesiomorphic
condition in nothosaurids and most plesiosauroids
including elasmosaurids); however, the recent
reclassification of Morturneria as a derived
elasmosaurid (Bardet et al. 1991) does raise the
possibility of homology. Distinct condyle—facet
contact is also known to occur in Cryptoclidus
(Andrews 1910; Brown 1981), Kimmerosaurus
(Brown 1981), Eurycleidus (Cruickshank 1994)
and pliosaurids (Andrews 1913) but involves
contribution of the exoccipital-opisthotic to the
basioccipital articular surface and absence of a
distinct condylar groove. AM F87826 can
therefore be interpreted as autapomorphic in its
condylar morphology.
Incomplete dorsal closure of the condylar groove
may, alternatively, represent an ontogenetic feature
similar to the variable groove development present
in juvenile specimens of Muraenosaurus (Brown
1981). Complete separation of the exoccipital-
opisthotic facets and occipital condyle in all growth
stages of Muraenosaurus (Brown 1981), however,
supports interpretation of the facet—condyle contact
in AM F87826 as a potentially apomorphic
character state.
132
Molnar (1991) suggested that Australian
plesiosaur faunas lacked extensive regional
endemism and were composed of largely
cosmopolitan forms. While this is almost certainly
true for higher taxonomic categories, the presence
of potentially autapomorphic elasmosaur remains
suggests that at least some distinct taxa may have
inhabited the Australian epicontinental seaway
and surrounding coastal regions of eastern
Gondwana during the Early Cretaceous.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to Robert Jones of the Australian
B. P. KEAR
Museum for assistance and generous provision of
specimens. Michael Archer (Australian Museum)
and staff at the Vertebrate Palaeontology
Laboratory, University of New South Wales,
supplied preparation facilities and materials.
Photographs were taken by Trevor Peters of the
South Australian Museum. This manuscript
benefited greatly from the comments of Arthur
Cruickshank of the Leicester City Museums
Service, New Walk Museum, and John Long of
the Western Australian Museum. Financial
support for this research was provided by Origin
Energy, the Advertiser, the Waterhouse Club and
the Coober Pedy Tourism Association.
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ANDREWS, C. W. 1910. ‘A Descriptive Catalogue of
the Marine Reptiles of the Oxford Clay’. Vol. 1.
British Museum (Natural History): London.
ANDREWS, C. W. 1913. ‘A Descriptive Catalogue of
the Marine Reptiles of the Oxford Clay’. Vol. 2.
British Museum (Natural History): London.
BARDET, N., MAZIN, J. -M., CARIOU, E., ENAY, R.
& KRISHNA, J. 1991. Les Plesiosauria du
Jurassique supérieur de la province de Kachchh
(Inde). Comptes rendus de l’Académie des Sciences
de Paris, Série 2 313: 1343-1347.
BARDET, N., GODEFROIT, P. & SCIAU, J. 1999. A
new elasmosaurid plesiosaur from the Lower Jurassic
of Southern France. Palaeontology 42: 927-952.
BROWN, D. S. 1981. The English Upper Jurassic
Plesiosauroidea (Reptilia) and a review of the
phylogeny and classification of the Plesiosauria.
Bulletin of the British Museum (Natural History) 35:
253-347.
BROWN, D. S. 1993. A taxonomic reappraisal of the
families Elasmosauridae and Cryptoclididae
(Reptilia: Plesiosauroidea). Revue de Paléobiologie
7: 9-16,
BROWN, D. S., MILNER, A. C. & TAYLOR, M. A.
1986. New material of the plesiosaur Kimmerosaurus
langhami Brown from the Kimmeridge Clay of
Dorset. Bulletin of the British Museum (Natural
History) 40: 225-234.
CARPENTER, K. 1997. Comparative cranial anatomy
of two North American Cretaceous plesiosaurs.
Pp. 81-103 in ‘Ancient Marine Reptiles’. Eds J. M.
Callaway & E. L. Nicholls. Academic Press: London
and New York.
CHATTERGEE, S. & SMALL, B. J. 1989. New
plesiosaurs from the Upper Cretaceous of Antarctica.
Pp. 197-215 in ‘Origins and Evolution of the
Antarctic Biota’. Ed. J, A. Crame. Geological Society
Special Publication 47: London.
CRUICKSHANK, A. R. I. 1994. A juvenile
plesiosaur (Plesiosauria: Reptilia) from the Lower
Lias (Hettangian: Lower Jurassic) of Lyme Regis:
a pliosauroid—plesiosauroid intermediate?
Zoological Journal of the Linnean Society 112:
151-178.
DAY, R. W., 1969. The Lower Cretaceous of the Great
Artesian Basin. Pp. 140-173 in ‘Stratigraphy and
Palaeontology Essays in Honour of Dorothy Hill’.
Ed. K. S. W. Campbell. Australian University Press:
Canberra.
FREYTAG, I. B. 1964. Reptilian vertebral remnants
from Lower Cretaceous strata near Oodnadatta. The
Geological Survey of South Australia, Quarterly
Geological Notes 10: 1-2.
LONG, J. A. & CRUICKSHANK, A. R. I. 1998.
Further records of plesiosaurian reptiles of Jurassic
and Cretaceous age from Western Australia. Records
of the Western Australian Museum 19: 47-55.
LONGMAN, H. 1935. Palaeontological notes. Memoirs
of the Queensland Museum 10: 236.
MOLNAR, R. E. 1991. Fossil reptiles in Australia.
Pp. 605-702 in ‘Vertebrate Palaeontology of
Australasia’. Eds P. Vickers-Rich, J. M. Monaghan,
R. F. Baird & T. H. Rich. Pioneer Design Studio,
Monash University: Melbourne.
MURRAY, P. F. 1987. Plesiosaurs from Albian aged
Bathurst Island Formation siltstones near Darwin,
Northern Territory, Australia. The Beagle 4: 95-102.
PERSSON, P. O. 1960. Lower Cretaceous
Plesiosaurians (Rept.) from Australia. Lunds
Universitets Arsskrift 56: 1-23.
PERSSON, P. O. 1982. Elasmosaurid skull from the
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Sauropterygia). Memoirs of the Queensland Museum
20: 647-655.
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Nothosaurus: monophyly of the Nothosauridae
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(Reptilia: Sauropterygia). Journal of Vertebrate
Paleontology 14: 9-23.
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318 in ‘The Geology and Geophysics of Northeastern
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Geological Society of Australia, Queensland
Division: Brisbane.
STORRS, G. W. & TAYLOR, M. A. 1996. Cranial
anatomy of a new plesiosaur genus from the
lowermost Lias (Rhaetian/Hettangian) of Street,
Somerset, England. Journal of Vertebrate
Palaeontology 16: 403-420.
THULBORN, T. & TURNER, S. 1993. An elasmosaur
bitten by a pliosaur. Modern Geology 18: 489-501.
WELLES, S. P. 1943. Elasmosaurid plesiosaurs with a
description of new material from California and
Colorado. Memoirs of the University of California
13: 125-215.
WELLES, S. P. 1952. A review of the North American
Cretaceous elasmosaurs. University of California
Publications in Geological Sciences 29: 47-144.
WELLES, S. P. 1962. A new species of elasmosaur
from the Aptian of Colombia, and a review of the
Cretaceous plesiosaurs. University of California
Publications in Geological Sciences 44: 1-96.
WELLES, S. P. & BUMP, J. D. 1949. Alzadasaurus
pembertoni, a new elasmosaur from the Upper
Cretaceous of South Dakota. Journal of
Paleontology 23: 521-535.
WARRABARNA KAURNA! RECLAIMING AN AUSTRALIAN LANGUAGE
PHILIP A. CLARKE
Summary
For many indigenous communities living in former European colonies, cultural change occurs on
several fronts, such as with language loss, cessation of religious practices, decline in artefact and art
traditions, the movement away from key places in the landscape, and the loss of biological
distinctiveness through intermarriage and population decline. And yet, even for parts of the world
where all of this has to a large degree occurred, the descendants of some pre-European indigenous
groups remain today with some level of group identity.
WARRABARNA KAURNA! RECLAIMING AN AUSTRALIAN LANGUAGE.
Rob Amery. 2000. Multilingualism and Linguistic Diversity Series 1. Swets & Zeitlinger
Publishers, Lisse, The Netherlands. 290 pp. Reviewed by Philip A. Clarke.
For many indigenous communities living in
former European colonies, cultural change occurs
on several fronts, such as with language loss,
cessation of religious practices, decline in artefact
and art traditions, the movement away from key
places in the landscape, and the loss of biological
distinctiveness through intermarriage and
population decline. And yet, even for parts of the
world where all of this has to a large degree
occurred, the descendants of some pre-European
indigenous groups remain today with some level
of group identity.
In Warrabarna Kaurna!, Rob Amery provides
a cultural history of the Kaurna Aboriginal
community, whose members are the descendants
of indigenous people living on the Adelaide Plains
before British settlement began here in 1836.
Chapters 1-3 provide a background to the
linguistic literature on language reclamation,
including non-Australian examples. The following
two chapters, 4—5, provide a history of the Kaurna
people and how their language and traditions were
recorded by Europeans. The next five chapters, 6—
10, deal with the Kaurna language reclamation
attempts and their significance to the re-emerging
Adelaide Aboriginal identity. Chapter 11 is the
summary and conclusion. The book is richly
endowed with maps, plates, graphs and tables.
Amery has had extensive experience with
researching and teaching Aboriginal languages.
He has been involved in a number of workshops
on Aboriginal language reclamation and since
1997 has run the Kaurna Language and Language
Ecology course at Adelaide University. Although
the impact of language loss occurs widely to
varying degrees across Aboriginal Australia,
Amery has based his study in an area where the
local Aboriginal groups have suffered much.
In the ‘settled regions’, generations of
Aboriginal people were largely absorbed into the
European community due to economic and social
pressures or, until the mid 1960s, given a broader
identity as marginalised Aboriginal people living
as wards of the state. Starting in the late 1970s,
many of their descendants have reclaimed their
identity, marking a period of cultural revitalisation
(Berndt 1977, Keen 1988), The descendants of
the Aboriginal hunters and gatherers who lived on
the Adelaide Plains are one such group, referring
to themselves as Kaurna people. Similar revivals
have occurred elsewhere in the world, in
particular North America (Clifford 1988). How
much of this contemporary culture is due to an
unbroken connection with the past, or to what
degree it relies on an identity largely regained
through external sources such as historical records
and museum artefact collections, is debatable.
Warrabarna Kaurna! is a study of the
rebuilding of a particular Aboriginal cultural
identity, once considered vanished forever.
Although Amery is deeply sympathetic towards
the aspirations of contemporary Aboriginal people
in being recognised as having a valid cultural
identity, he nevertheless acknowledges the
complex interplay of sources which produce the
modern beliefs and perceptions of the Kaurna
community. Amery brings Aboriginal cultural
revitalisation into focus by studying an attempt by
Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal agencies to
reclaim an Aboriginal language.
When Europeans arrived in Australia, there
were many Aboriginal languages. Estimates by
linguists range from 150 to 650, depending on
how one defines ‘language’ (Blake 1981, Yallop
1982). These indigenous languages are today
threatened as more and more Aboriginal people
adopt Aboriginal Pidgin English and creoles
(Kriol) as their primary means of communicating
(Wurm et al 1996). Many languages have
vanished entirely. In temperate regions, where
British setthkement was most concentrated, the
forms of speech used by Aboriginal people today
approach standard Australian English. Amery
concedes that the chances for a complete reversal
of this process are slim. Despite this, he
recognises that the study of indigenous languages
has broad cultural importance, rather than being
merely of linguistic interest. As stated in the
foreword by Lester-Irabinna Rigney, a Kaurna
descendant, ‘the languages of colonised peoples
cannot be meaningfully discussed outside the
context of imperialism, colonialism and
neocolonialism’.
It is in the context of the contemporary
significance of the Kaurna language that Amery
enters the debate about the use of terms such as
136
‘extinct’, ‘dead’ and ‘sleeping’ for forms of
speech that have largely survived through
recordings made by Europeans in the 19th
century. Warrabarna Kaurna!, which means ‘Let
Kaurna be spoken’, is about using the Kaurna
language to gain an insight into the pre-European
indigenous culture and extending its use into a
modern cultural context. Amery places the
‘ownership’ of the language in the hands of
Aboriginal people who have identified
genealogical links with the pre-European
landscape of the Adelaide region, although he
acknowledges that its development from the
1990s springs from a collaboration with non-
indigenous people, such as linguists.
The Aboriginal culture of the Adelaide Plains
has been elusive for many authors, partly due to
the early demise of the local Aboriginal
population with the onset of European settlement
and through the impact of other Aboriginal
cultural groups with whom the Adelaide people
merged during the historic period (Clarke 1991a).
By the early 20th century, the Curator of
Ethnology at the South Australian Museum,
Norman Tindale, was able to locate only a few
Aboriginal people who were knowledgeable of
what he considered as the ‘traditional’ pre-
European culture of the region (Tindale 1974: 60—
61, 213; Tindale & Mountford 1936: 500-501;
Tindale & Pretty 1980).
Based upon his research, and with the aid of the
now outdated ‘tribe’ theory, Tindale introduced
and promoted the use of ‘Kaurna’ to describe the
cultural group encountered by German
missionaries, such as Christian Teichelmann and
Clamor Schiirmann. He used ‘Kaurna’ despite the
fact that the Aboriginal informants of
Teichelmann and Schiirmann used different terms
for themselves that were based upon smaller
territorial units (Clarke 1991b). Although the
exact origin of the term ‘Kaurna’ is in question,
with some suggestion that it is based on the Lower
Murray word korna, for ‘man’, it is nevertheless a
useful word when referring to the pre-European
Adelaide inhabitants. Warrabarna Kaurnal,
which is the published form of Amery’s much
larger PhD thesis, provides a compendium of
everything currently known to have been written
about the early Aboriginal culture of the Adelaide
Plains as it was encountered by the first Europeans
to settle in South Australia.
P. A. CLARKE
Contrary to popular opinion in Australia today,
Aboriginal people in pre-European times did not
have a collective consciousness of being
‘Aboriginal’, or even a term covering this notion.
Instead, there were numerous descent groups and
language communities that in certain situations
may have been defined in opposition to
corresponding groups. Upon European invasion,
the nature of group identity was radically altered.
For instance, in the pre-European period it is
likely that the Adelaide people would have been
too culturally divergent from the Lower Murray
people to be considered as having a sense of
identity with them. Nevertheless, after British
colonisation, many Aboriginal groups that were
formerly distant, both socially and geographically,
were placed in contexts where joint identity
became possible or was even enforced by the
welfare authorities.
As the Australian Aboriginal landscape was
transformed to make agriculture possible, many
Aboriginal people were removed to missions, such
as Point McLeay in the Lower Murray and Point
Pearce on Yorke Peninsula, or lived on pastoral
properties and government stations. The
population of the missions in southern South
Australia was made up of Aboriginal people from
northern South Australia, West Coast, Eyre
Peninsula, Yorke Peninsula, Mid North, Adelaide,
Murray Basin, Lower South-East and possibly
even Tasmania.' Since breaking from their
hunting and gathering past and becoming part of a
rural landscape, southern Aboriginal people have
primarily drawn their identity from their ‘mission’
homes (such as Koonibba, Point Pearce and Point
McLeay), rather than from their pre-European
background. Based on the shared elements of their
history, these regional identities merge when
southern Aboriginal people refer to themselves as
“Nungas’ (pronounced ‘Narmgars’).
By the 1980s, when several Aboriginal
individuals living in Adelaide began to embrace
Kaurna identity, most Aboriginal people in
southern South Australia had links to several
areas across the State. Amery (2000:8) states
‘For many older Kaurna people, their primary
identity remains Narungga [Yorke Peninsula] or
Ngarrindjeri [Lower Murray], depending on
whether they grew up at Bukkiyana [Point
Pearce] or Raukkan [Point McLeay],
respectively. For others, especially young people
‘In addition to Amery’s work, these regional links can be discerned from the work of Taplin (1859-79), Tindale (1938-39, 1952-54) and
Clarke (1994, chapter 2).
REVIEW: WARRABARNA KAURNA!
who have grown up in Adelaide, Kaurna identity
is all-important.’
Kaurna culture is comprised of elements
formulated during the last two decades, with the
emergent form being part of a new cultural
environment. This new identity is focused on pre-
European traditions, but has strong urban, rather
than mission, influences. Amery provides an
excellent account of the sociopolitical activities
that have increased and refined awareness of
Kaurna culture. Its revitalisation can be seen with
the Kaurna song-writing project in 1990, and
since this time by Aboriginal dignitaries using
Kaurna vocabulary at official openings of cultural
events.
The tension between variable anthropological
records and equally variable contemporary
Aboriginal perceptions is evident at several points
through Warrabarna Kaurna!. For instance, the
Tjilbruke Dreaming of the extended Adelaide
landscape was recorded by several European
writers, with most of the accounts in their
unpublished form relating to a ‘blue crane’
ancestor, probably a brolga (Amery 2000: 101-
102; Clarke 1991a: 66-68). Nevertheless, the
most detailed published version, by Tindale,
stated that Tjilbruke (Tjirbruki in Tindale) was a
glossy ibis (Tindale 1987; Tindale & Mountford
1936). It is this account which has had the most
influence with the contemporary Kaurna
community and appears in modern renditions of
this Dreaming (Education Department of South
Australia 1989: 95-101, 213, 217).
For many readers, a less obvious example of the
discrepancy between written and oral histories
concerns the Aboriginal traditions of the Pleiades,
often referred to as the ‘Seven Sisters’. After
describing the widespread distribution of such
beliefs, including from the Adelaide region,
Amery (2000: 103) states that ‘Versions still
survive amongst some Ngarrindjeri women,
having been handed down orally from one
generation to the next.’ I dispute this statement on
the basis of historical and ethnographic work done
during the 1980s—90s.
Since the political struggles of the early 1990s,
some Aboriginal people with Ngarrindjeri
connections have become intensely interested in
the ‘Seven Sisters’. From my _ fieldwork
experience, the versions of ‘Seven Sisters’
Dreaming accounts being told by Ngarrindjeri
women in the early 1990s were said by them to
? See Giles in the Adelaide Register newspaper, 5 October 1887.
137
have come either entirely, or at least in part, from
Western Desert people. This is supported by the
literature. In the 19th century, the historical
accounts of the Pleiades point to such elements of
the Dreaming mythology as a group of men
smoking and turkey eggs, although the records of
Aboriginal beliefs about the cosmos are scant
(Wells 1852-1855: 99).? Ngarrindjeri records of
the early and mid 20th century do contain some
references to the Pleiades that bear some similarity
to the ‘Seven Sisters’, for example the six girls
and one boy of the Yatuka, although they are not
stated as siblings (Berndt & Berndt 1993: 163-
164; Clarke 1997: 136; Kimber 1997: 229-231).
There is also the account of the ‘Seven stars’ (no
identity given) associated with climate (Rankine
1969 cited in Clarke 1994: 123). Nevertheless,
these are shallow similarities, so we should be
cautious of inferring continuity of belief.
Since European settlement, such widespread
mythologies, as in the case of the Pleiades, are
learnt not just from local Aboriginal sources, but
also from other Aboriginal groups and from the
media, as well as from the popular and academic
literature. Opportunities for the transmission of
ideas are provided by the post-European
movements of Aboriginal people, the
intermarriage between groups on missions and the
engagement of Aboriginal people in broader
Australian culture. I would argue that the Pleiades
traditions of the 1990s are an example of what
some anthropologists have termed the ‘invention
of tradition’ (Hobsbawm & Ranger 1983). New
embellishments gain force from contemporary
sociopolitical situations, often imparting greater
significance to the parent beliefs. Nevertheless,
the processes that make them important will often
obscure the origin of beliefs. Given that
Aboriginal people have not lived in a cultural
vacuum since European settlement, and that their
culture has not been static but has changed in
major ways, there are often other explanations to
the evolution of contemporary beliefs that do not
necessarily involve transmission through family
lines. Studies of contemporary indigenous culture
will continue to struggle with the issue of where
to draw that blurred line between cultural
continuity and transformation.
Warrabarna Kaurna! is well written and
illustrated. It provides a useful guide to
ethnographic sources on the Kaurna people of the
Adelaide Plains. The book also has wider
138
significance, beyond the Adelaide landscape,
giving important insights into the sociopolitical
environment in which the modern study and use
of indigenous languages is carried on. One of the
P. A. CLARKE
aims of the Multilingualism and Linguistic
Diversity series in which it is published is the
development of and respect for linguistic human
rights. Amery’s work rates highly in both regards.
REFERENCES
BERNDT, R. M. (ed.) 1977. ‘Aborigines and Change’.
Social Anthropology Series No. 11. Australian
Institute of Aboriginal Studies: Canberra.
BERNDT, R. M. & C. H., with STANTON, J. E. 1993.
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in ‘Settled’ Australia’. Aboriginal Studies Press:
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free ethnography?’ Aboriginal History 21: 203-32.
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Adelaide.
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South Australian Museum Archives: Adelaide.
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Their Terrain, Environmental Controls, Distribution,
Limits, and Proper Names’. Australian National
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tale of the Kaurna people of Adelaide. Records of the
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Results of the excavation of Kongarati Cave near
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Philip A. Clarke, Science Division, South Australian Museum, North Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia 5000.
Records of the South Australian Museum 34(2): 135-138.
OBITUARY JUNE MAVIS SCRYMGOUR 1920 — 2000
NEVILLE S. PLEDGE
Summary
June Scrymgour was employed by the South Australian Museum for almost 20 years. She achieved
curatorship of Minerals before retiring in 1982, and continued in an Honorary capacity for many
more years. She died on 23 September 2000, after a long period of worsening illness.
OBITUARY
JUNE MAVIS SCRYMGOUR
1920—2000
June Scrymgour was employed by the South
Australian Museum for almost 20 years. She
achieved Curatorship of Minerals before retiring
in 1982, and continued in an Honorary capacity
for many more years. She died on 23 September
2000, after a long period of worsening illness.
June was born in Adelaide on 9 June 1920, the
first of three children. Rheumatic fever as a child
left her susceptible to strokes late in life. She did
not complete high school, but left to work as a
short-hand typist in the family hardware business.
During World War II June joined the Australian
Broadcasting Commission (ABC), and for a time
became a radio announcer. After the war, she had
several secretarial jobs, but with increasing
dissatisfaction because of a frustrated interest in
natural history.
In 1963 June applied for and obtained a
position in the South Australian Museum, as
assistant to the newly-arrived Curator of Geology,
Dr David Corbett. Despite her lack of formal
training in earth sciences, or even natural history,
June threw herself wholeheartedly into the task,
making notes of any comments by visiting
researchers that were pertinent to specimens they
were examining. In this way she built up a basic
knowledge of the subject, insofar as it was
represented in the collections. Subsequently, June
found a love of conveying this information to the
general public. A number of sets of minerals or
fossils typical of different groups or ages were
compiled and mounted in book-file boxes for
transport to and display at talks she would give to
various organisations and groups. At about this
time she undertook night school classes and
completed her high school matriculation. This
enabled her to apply to do the Geology I course at
Adelaide University, which she undertook with
enthusiasm.
As Corbett had become involved as a lecturer
in the Adelaide University’s Department of Adult
Education, so did June begin to help in the
preparation of exhibits for the talks. From 1966
she started to participate, as children’s tutor, in
the annual Spring Schools organised by that
department, the first being to Chowilla on the
River Murray. Subsequent venues included
Angorichina in the Flinders Ranges (1967),
Muloorina near Lake Eyre (1971) and Nonning in
the Gawler Ranges (1973). There were also
weekend schools for children and Junior Field
Naturalists trips in the Adelaide area.
In 1968, following the resignation of David
Corbett, the Geology Department of the Museum
was split into the Mineralogy and Palaeontology
Sections, and a mineralogist, Geoff Milne, was
appointed. June continued as assistant to both
sections and, although the collections were
already basically separated, she set about making
the final separation—that of the sectional
libraries—and preparing for the arrival of the new
curators of each section. Milne arrived in
November 1968 and relations with his assistant
deteriorated, partly due to different attitudes to the
mineral collections and June’s natural protective
feeling towards the specimens. The arrival of the
new Curator of Fossils, Neville Pledge, in mid-
1969 alleviated the situation slightly, as June now
had a different focus of attention. When, in mid-
1970, Milne suddenly resigned and Pledge was
away on extended fieldwork, June was again in
charge of both sections. On Pledge’s return June
was given responsibility, in the interim, of the
Mineral Section, and subsequently it was decided
not to seek a new Curator. With this new
responsibility, June undertook an active
acquisition program to increase the size, diversity
and quality of the mineral collection, mainly by
exchange, but she also undertook modest
collecting trips around the State in later years. She
took a special interest in meteorites and
australites, the Museum collections of which had
been catalogued by Corbett. Much of her time in
later years would be spent with these objects.
In 1967, during the last months of Corbett’s
curatorship, when June was starting the physical
separation of the collections, she began to
research the origins of the Museum’s collection of
Lake Callabonna Diprotodon fossils which, with
other things, occupied a number of large
cupboards in the passage outside the
Palaeontology room. As a result, she made contact
with a number of descendants of Ragless, Stirling,
and Zietz, who had been involved in the 1892-93
discovery and excavation of the bones. She was
able to obtain copies of photographs and letters,
140
and started compiling them with newspaper and
other archival reports pertinent to the story she
hoped to write. Unfortunately, she was not able to
do this. However, the information was not lost but
used in an exhibition, and an article published by
this writer (Pledge 1994), to celebrate the
centenary of the Lake Callabonna expedition.
During this same period June started another
project which had a more tangible outcome for
her. Partly as a result of leading a South
Australian Field Naturalists excursion to see the
geology at Hallett Cove, she commenced active
field research of the area for the preparation of a
field guide. Working with two Museum
Honoraries, botanist Margaret Kenny and
archaeologist Harold Cooper, she edited and
published ‘Hallett Cove, a field guide’ in 1970, at
a time when interest in preserving more of that
area was growing. A revised edition was
published two years later as a result of the
publicity gained for the Reserve in the midst of an
encroaching suburban sprawl, and a third printing
in 1976. Among other outcomes of the first
edition were the discovery of the first fossils
(other than the Pliocene shells of the Hallett Cove
Sandstone) to be found at Hallett Cove—a much-
abraded tooth of the Pleistocene Diprotodon
found by two schoolboys in beach gravel, and
arthropod trails preserved in the Permian glacial
varves, found by schoolgirl Helen Bailey during
one of the field days at the height of the
conservation campaign. Helen had previously
been tutored by June on one of the Spring
Schools.
Other projects at this time were the production
of an illustrated ‘The geological timescale (and)
evolution—from the rock record’ (1973a), for
students and the lay public, and co-authoring with
David Corbett a chapter on geology in Yorke
Peninsula, a Natural History (1973b). June was
now realising a growing interest in and concern
for geological type localities, those sites from
which geologists had described new geological
features or formations and rock units. This subject
would increasingly occupy her time.
With the resignation of Dr Helene Laws, the
Curator of Marine Invertebrata, in 1973, June
became the mother figure for female staff, a role
that sometimes put her in disagreement with
management or other curators. However, out of
this came some benefit in the form of a new
assistant, Faye Gommers, to be shared between
Minerals and Fossils, which enabled June to revise
the catalogue of meteorites and start other
projects. June was now attracting a small but
N. S. PLEDGE
dedicated coterie of volunteers (Mesdames Bertie
Koch, Natalie Worthley and Eugenie Pugh, and
Mr Gerhard Horr) and Honorary Research
Workers (Messrs Jim Johnson, Barrie Risely and
William Cleverly). With the help of many of
them, June started compiling a register of
geological type sections in South Australia, this
information to be used in assessing the
environmental impact of proposed mining and
exploration activities.
The Geological Data Retrieval System, as it was
called, came to occupy more and more of June’s
time and the Sectional resources as she obtained
detailed maps and aerial photographs, and made
field trips to various parts of the State to verify
and document important geological localities.
However, with Jim Johnson, she was also able to
produce a popular illustrated booklet on the
minerals of South Australia (1975, revised 1978),
and with Cleverly (1978) the first of several
papers on australites. With Johnson and others she
co-authored a description of the Brachina
Meteorite (1977), and this led her to start lobbying
for legislation to protect meteorites found in South
Australia from exploitation by (mostly foreign)
commercial collectors. This legislation was passed
in 1980, as an amendment to the South Australian
Museum Act, 1976-1978, Part I[A—Meteorites.
The next few years were busy, with the
consolidation of the Geological Data Retrieval
System, fieldwork to check sites and search for
australites and meteorites, and, from 1979, the
requirements and designing of new quarters for
the Section in the planned new science wing just
approved by the Government. In this last, June
was able to increase and improve substantially the
collection storage space, laboratories and offices
over what they had been in the basement of the
old Museum east (Stirling) wing.
Because of her lack of formal academic
qualifications, June’s achievements were not
officially recognised for some years but, after
continued lobbying and support from other staff,
she was made an acting Curator in 1976 and
Curator Grade I in the following year. June was
promoted to Curator II in 1981 and retired on 29
June 1982, with planning still in progress for the
new science building. On retirement, she was put
in charge of the Geoscience Data Centre, and
supervised its installation as a separate entity in
the new Natural Science Building in 1985. With
the appointment of a new Curator of Minerals in
1984, June was appointed an honorary research
associate in Mineralogy.
Retirement did not change June’s activities
OBITUARY — JUNE MAVIS SCRYMGOUR 141
much. Although arthritis prevented her from
coming into the Museum regularly, she continued
to maintain and upgrade the geological data
system with the help of Barrie Risely. Together,
they compiled all this information and eventually
published it as a book (1991). But this was not the
end, although a series of mild strokes were
beginning to take their toll. June had, for many
years, envisaged a revision of her Geological Time
Scale and Evolution chart, and to this end she had
accumulated much data from colleagues and other
experts. However, the field of palaeontology is, in
many ways, changing very rapidly, with new
discoveries that change our understanding of
evolution almost a weekly event. The task proved,
therefore, to be more than she could handle, even
by proxy with Risely and Horr finding and
bringing references to her at home, where she had
by then become housebound.
June moved in with her younger sister Molly at
Brighton in 1995. When Molly died she moved
into a retirement home at Aberfoyle Park, and
later a nursing home, just days before her death
on 23 September 2000. Her last project was
unfinished. June never married. She is survived
by her brother Peter, and two nieces and a nephew
and their families.
June was, within her limitations which she
recognised, an outstanding custodian of the
collections under her care, meticulous almost to
the point of obsession. She engaged well with the
public, particularly children, to the advantage of
the South Australian Museum for almost 20 years,
and was the author or co-author of a number of
publications of lasting value.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I thank Maud McBriar, David Corbett and Peter
Scrymgour for assistance in providing information for
the preparation of this article.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
CLEVERLY, W. H. & SCRYMGOUR, J. M. 1978.
Australites of mass greater than 100 grams from
South Australia and adjoining states. Records of the
South Australian Museum 17: 321-330.
CORBETT, D. W. P. & SCRYMGOUR, J. M. 1973.
Geology. Pp. 1-28 in ‘Yorke Peninsula, a Natural
History’. Ed. D. W. P. Corbett. University of
Adelaide: Adelaide.
JOHNSON, J. E. & SCRYMGOUR, J. M. 1975.
Minerals of South Australia. Pp. 21-39 in ‘South
Australian Year Book 1975’. Government Printer:
Adelaide.
JOHNSON, J. E. & SCRYMGOUR, J. M. 1978.
Minerals of South Australia (revised edition).
JOHNSON, J. E., SCRYMGOUR, J. M.,
JAROSEWICH, E. & MASON, B. 1977. Brachina
Meteorite—a chassignite from South Australia.
Records of the South Australian Museum 17: 309-
319.
PLEDGE, N. S. 1994. Fossils of the Lake: a history of
Lake Callabonna excavations. Records of the South
Australian Museum 27: 65-77.
SCRYMGOUR, J. M. 1970. The Geological Record.
Pp. 1-21 in ‘Hallett Cove, a Field Guide’. Eds H. M.
Cooper, M. Kenny & J. M. Scrymgour. Government
Printer: Adelaide. Second Edition, revised 1972,
reprinted 1976.
SCRYMGOUR, J. M. 1973a. The geological timescale
(and) evolution—from the rock record. Australia’s
Wildlife Heritage 1: 28-29.
SCRYMGOUR, J. M. 1973b. Hallett Cove, a site of
scientific interest. Kalori 46: 29-30.
SCRYMGOUR, J. M. 1980. The hidden beauty of
minerals. South Australian Museum Information
Sheet No. 23 (Fluorescent Minerals). South
Australian Museum: Adelaide.
SCRYMGOUR, J. M. & RISELY, B. G. 1991.
‘Important Geological Sites in South Australia with
Maps.’ South Australian Museum and Geological
Society of Australia (South Australian Division):
Adelaide.
Neville S. Pledge, Emeritus Curator of Fossils, South Australian Museum, North Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia
5000. Records of the South Australian Museum 34(2): 139-141.
CORDS
OF
THIS
SOUTH
AUSTRALIAN
MUSEUM
DECEMBER 2001
ISSN 0376-2750
CONTENTS:
ARTICLES
Ole CAE SS ew Aslan:
A new species of Australian Canthydrus Sharp with a key to the Australian species of
Noteridae (Coleoptera).
65 P.J. STEWART & A. STRATHERN
Timbu Wara figures from Pangia, Papua New Guinea.
79) SASL ARELD)
Sepia hedleyi Berry, 1918 (Cephalopoda: Sepiidae): a complete description and
clarification of the status of S. dannevigi Berry, 1918 and S. rex (Iredale, 1926).
99 C.H.S. WATTS & W. F. HUMPHREYS
A new genus and six new species of Dytiscidae (Coleoptera) from underground waters in
the Yilgarn palaeodrainage system of Western Australia.
115 J. V.S. MEGAW
Australian Aboriginal Cultures Gallery “The Speaking Land’: a review article.
127° KEAR BoP.
Elasmosaur (Reptilia: Plesiosauria) basicranial remains from the Early Cretaceous of
Queensland.
NOTES
135 P. A. CLARKE
~ Review — Warrabarna Kaurna! Reclaiming an Australian Language
oso) N: Se PEEDGE,
Obituary — June Mavis Scrymgour
Published by the South Australian Museum,
North Terrace, Adelaide, South Australia 5000.