Lands of Red and Gold
- Thread starter Jared
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Thanks. There's still a lot of writing to go, and the timeline still hasn't even reached the point of European contact.
I hope this gets updated soon. I like it a lot.
I think the phrase goes "I'm working on it." The next instalment - on the kingdom of Tjibarr - turned out to be very long. The draft is just under 10,000 words. I need to edit that and give it some decent polish before I can post it. Probably on the weekend; weekdays are just too busy at the moment.
Oh, there will be all sorts of mixing, both within *Australia and overseas. While I don't expect the Pliri faith to become a major world religion in terms of numbers of adherents, it is going to spread beyond Australia's shores.
Now that's what I call a teaser. Almost like a film trailer.
I didn't pay him to say it, either. And no-one can possibly prove otherwise.
The details will have to wait, but it is safe to say one thing: there are large areas of Argentina which are very well-suited to *Australian crops.
mojojojo
Gone Fishin'
Ok, just to make sure I have every thing correct. The Native Americans will be even more susceptible to the Australian diseases than the people of the Old World. This coupled with the losses they have already experienced due to Old World diseases means that their population is even more reduced than in OTL. While European colonization of the Americas will be slowed due to the Australian plagues, Native American will still not have had enough time to recover their numbers so the New World ends up being almost all European in Ethnicity even in areas that in OTL had a high mestizo population. Is that correct?
Lands of Red and Gold #18: Of Factions, Farmers and Forests
Lands of Red and Gold #18: Of Factions, Farmers and Forests
Look back, if you will, into the past of a history that was not. You might see a city built on what appears to be a large hill. Tjibarr, its inhabitants call it, which in their language means “the place of the gathering.” The heart of the city is built on what seems to be a natural mound raised above the surrounding countryside.
In fact, this mound is not natural. Tjibarr is an ancient city, the oldest continually inhabited city on the continent, and this mound shows the accumulation of history. Level after level of the city has been built over the ruined foundations of its predecessors, in a series which stretches back more than four millennia.
The city’s inhabitants are aware of some of that long history. Their historical memory does not stretch back as far as the city has been inhabited; the most ancient times have been lost in the mists of myth and pre-literacy. Still, they remember the past, and draw from its lessons to understand their present.
Water surrounds Tjibarr on all sides. To the north lies the Nyalananga [River Murray], the Water Mother, the greatest river which the people of Tjibarr know. To the east lies a natural lagoon which has been expanded by human actions, and beyond that the Anerina [River Loddon]. To the west and the south lie more lagoons, these wholly artificial. The lagoons act as a defence, as a source of food, and for flood control since they can absorb some of the rising waters of the Nyalananga. Roads lead through the lagoons, yet they can be easily flooded if the need arises. While some goods do move by road, the bulk of trade moves by boat, so even being fully surrounded by water will merely inconvenience its inhabitants.
Oft times the city has been surrounded by water for months, either when enemy armies threaten, or when the Nyalananga floods. This matters little to the people of Tjibarr. What they care about is inside the city itself. Here is the Thousand-Fold Palace, where it is said that a thousand kings have reigned from within its walls and then been interred in stone within its foundations. Here is the Plaza of the Four Moons, the grand square which is at the heart of the city, lined with statues of monarchs and other important beings, both historical and spiritual. The Plaza is an important gathering point when the rulers call the people together, and hosts the main markets of the city, where its inhabitants fondly believe that they can find anything worth buying.
Here is the Hall of Rainbows, an elaborately-constructed building with eight wings around an octagonal centre. Each of these wings has been carefully measured to be of equal area. The eight-sided central complex is where the elders of the factions meet to discuss matters of common concern, while above them towers the marble spire which is the tallest point in the city. Here are the several carefully cultivated fields where the factions play out their rivalry. On the largest of those sports arenas, the Field of Champions, twenty thousand people can gather to watch their faction’s sporting heroes demonstrate their skills. Here are a myriad of temples and shrines, offering their own form of testament to the diverse views encapsulated in Tjibarr’s syncretic religious outlook. It is said that Tjibarr has a shrine on every street corner, and this is not far from the truth.
Here, too, are all of the less prominent but equally essential buildings needed for a thriving city. Tjibarr throngs with people, both residents and visitors, for it is both an important trade nexus and manufacturer of specialty goods. The workshops, the schools, the warehouses, the docks, the houses, and other buildings of Tjibarr are less spectacular in their construction, but equally important for the city’s functioning.
* * *
Tjibarr is not the largest city on the continent, but it is the oldest. It forms the spiritual heart of the kingdom which bears its name, thanks to its ancient legacy of sacred places and religious traditions. These days, other cities are nearly as important in terms of economics or population, especially Tapiwal [Robinvale], but Tjibarr remains the official capital and most frequent residence of the royal family.
The inhabitants of Tjibarr and its surroundings call themselves the Gunnagal, a name which future linguists and anthropologists will give to all of the languages and peoples descended from the first yam farmers who lived around Tjibarr. In 1618, though, the name Gunnagal simply refers to the speakers of a related series of dialects around Tjibarr and its environs. They are the largest ethnicity within the kingdom’s borders, although far from the only one. Several other Gunnagalic-speaking peoples are subjects of Tjibarr, and even a few hunter-gatherer peoples along the driest reaches of the Nyalananga are also more or less willing servants of the king.
The heartland of the kingdom of Tjibarr is the middle stretches of the Nyalananga, which it has controlled since time immemorial. The other borders of the kingdom have expanded and shrunk over the centuries, as rivals have emerged or subject peoples have revolted.
In 1618, Tjibarr shares control of the Five Rivers with two other kingdoms, that of Gutjanal [Albury-Wodonga] on the upper Nyalananga, and that of Yigutji [Wagga Wagga] which controls most of the course of the most fertile tributary river, the Matjidi [Murrumbidgee]. The most powerful rival of all is to the south; the Yadji Empire has long fought with Tjibarr. Over the last two years, Tjibarr’s armies have been victorious over the Yadji; driving them from the mouth of the Nyalananga, and bringing the rich territories of the Copper Coast [1] under their sway.
Whether this victory will endure is difficult to be sure; even some of the Gunnagal generals are not optimistic. The Yadji have always been a difficult foe, and the other neighbours of Gutjanal and Yigutji are sometimes foes and sometimes allies, as the tides of war and politics shift. The last war which Gutjanal and Yigutji fought was against each other, while in the war before that, Gutjanal fought with Tjibarr against an alliance of Yigutji and the Yadji.
Still, of all the threats to the recent conquests, the greatest probably come from within Tjibarr itself. For Tjibarr is nominally a kingdom, but the power of the monarch is far from absolute. The internal politics of Tjibarr are convoluted, based on a system of semi-hereditary factions whose relations are byzantine in their complexity. The monarch is personally revered, but to most of the kingdom’s inhabitants, their loyalty to their faction matters much more than their relationship to the monarch.
The ancient institution of the monarchy had long been seen as serving a role of balancing the factions. With the shifting spiritual tide, some new ideas have penetrated from the Pliri faith, even though the majority of citizens do not follow that religion. The ruler is seen as the essence of harmony, whose role is to maintain balance within the kingdom. Often, this means that the ruler does not have to do much, but simply to be there. This suits the factions, who conduct a lot of government business amongst themselves. But the ruler is expected to act to preserve the balance, live an orderly life, and deal with outside threats.
* * *
The Gunnagal who live in the heart of Tjibarr still preserve the names of the kitjigal, the ancient system of social groupings which had evolved in the formative days of their distant ancestors. However, while the name remains, the kitjigal have evolved into a form which their distant ancestors would barely recognise, if at all. The ancient kitjigal were a hereditary system whose leaders filled a combined role of priests, oligarchs, merchant princes, and military commanders. People were born into a particular kitjigal, could only marry certain other kitjigal, and their children changed kitjigal according to strict patterns.
In 1618, the kitjigal have evolved into a more fluid system of what are called factions. The factions are a form of social grouping whose activities are intertwined into many aspects of daily life, but which do not have the same hereditary or universal basis as the ancient system. There is no equivalent of the old pattern of people moving between kitjigal over generations; people often remain as members of the same faction as their parents, but they can and sometimes do change between factions [2].
The factions serve many roles in Gunnagal society, but perhaps their most visible role is as competitors and supports of sports. The sports fields of Tjibarr and some other leading cities within the kingdom host regular contests of a kind of football, which evolved out of their old systems of ball games. Gunnagal football involves a combination of kicking and throwing a ball, with the rules allowing them to hold the ball and pass or kick the ball and move. Competition between the factions is intensive, leading to a myriad of arguments, rivalries, and sometimes outright rioting based on the results of games.
The rivalry amongst supporters of the factions spills over to most aspects of daily life. The Gunnagal dress themselves in the colours of their factions, argue endlessly about the results of past games and the skill of individual players, and choose their friends and socialise based largely on faction. The rivalry links to trade and commercial operations; people buying from a merchant of their own faction can expect a better price, in some cases, or at least better treatment and prompter service. Broader cooperation between traders, shippers, and other commercial operation is also often conducted amongst people of the same faction, or at least with a friendly faction.
The factions no longer have any formal role in religion, as they had in the ancient system, but they are an integral part of the aristocracy. For the aristocrats among the Gunnagal are also expected to be supporters of one faction or another, and this is much closer to being a hereditary system than amongst regular supporters. For the nobility, the rivalry amongst the factions is much more about trade and land control than it is about sports, although many individual aristocrats are just as avid football supporters as commoners. Each of the factions also has its own internal politics, with rivalries and personal conflicts being common, especially about which aristocrat keeps control of a given portion of land, or who is allowed to represent the faction when negotiating or arguing with the other factions.
In land control, the faction system has become an integral part of the government. Each faction holds rights to use different areas of land, although they do not own the land in the strict sense of the word. (In theory, they hold it in trust for the monarch.) In most cases, the land is worked by tenant farmers who work for one or other of the factions, and who deliver an agreed portion of their harvests in exchange for this right to work the land. For some specialty crops, the factions do not use tenant farmers, but appoint specialist land managers who can draw on the services of farmers who are effectively hired to work the land for an arranged payment, but who do not directly receive any portion of the harvest. Arguments over land control, farming, and the like form another major part of the rivalry between the factions; in extreme cases it is possible for a faction to be stripped of the right to work a particular area of land.
The faction system also extends to providing justice. If there is a crime committed between two people in the same faction, then it should always be resolved by internal methods. It is considered extremely poor form for outsiders to become involved. Even in disputes between two factions, it is often preferred for leading members of the two factions to arrange a solution. The government can sometimes become involved in such cases, although sometimes private vendettas are used to resolve even the most serious crimes.
The role of the monarchy in this system is thus often to act as an arbiter, although the government administration does perform some other functions. Construction and maintenance of waterworks and aquaculture is under government control, for instance, and the government bureaucracy calls on workers based on need, usually during the downtime of the harvests. The government also maintains something of a standing army, although the factions each have their own armed militia, another reason why sporting arguments often become quite intense. Having armed members of the factions around is sometimes useful, since they will help to defend a city or region in time of war, but it is also means that unpopular monarchs face armed opposition. If the factions act together they can depose any ruler. A skilful monarch usually finds that the best way to survive is to keep a certain tension amongst the factions.
Of course, often monarchs have little difficulty keeping tension amongst the factions, because they argue so much amongst themselves. The Gunnagal are notoriously argumentative; it is said in the Five Rivers that the hallmark of achievement is getting three Gunnagal to agree about anything. Visitors usually conclude that their disputativeness stems from two causes; one being their concern over perceived status, and the other over an extreme obsession with precision and details.
Concern over their reputation and rank is certainly a matter of considerable concern to most Gunnagal. The rivalry between and within the factions contributes to their strong views about perceived status, although there are other factors involved. For instance, one of the customs inherited from the Imperial days is that of the important of the First Speaker, which was the literal translation of the Emperor’s title. While originally for religious purposes, the Gunnagal have come to use speaking first as a measure of primacy at gatherings large and small. Interrupting each other is a sign of dominance, and so can produce some heated responses if it is done.
In large formal gatherings, everyone is expected to remain silent until the leading person gets to speak. They have developed some social rules about how to avoid this, such as for instance not being officially at the gathering until they sit down, and so they can thus speak without offering technical insult to the leading person. This also means that they have developed a form of sign language which they can use to convey meaning without officially speaking.
The other aspect of the argumentative Gunnagal nature comes from what they think of as a concern for accuracy, although outsiders often take it to be pedantic nitpicking. In a discussion, they will explore even minor points in great detail. The Gunnagal often focus on a point to the point of obsession; they will argue a point not only to death, but past its death and keep arguing even after its funeral [3]. This is partly a case of curiosity; the Gunnagal are intensely interested in new ideas and new methods, and partly just a concern with being completely right.
* * *
The Gunnagal obsession with precision is reflected in many other aspects of their society. The one which is best known to their neighbours is the intricacy of their metalwork and other forms of manufacturing. For the Gunnagal are the premier artificers on the continent in their jewellery, their finely-detailed sculptures, and in their metallurgy. Craft objects of wood, stone or metal which are made in Tjibarr are widely exported throughout the continent, carried by the inland trade routes or via the Islanders at the mouth of the Nyalananga. They are also experts at intricate decorations; the interiors of their buildings are often covered with elaborate frescoes and enamelled tiles.
Even much of their bulk metalwork is similarly intricate. Gunnagal smiths learned the art of working iron from a few Atjuntja who travelled on Nangu trade ships and settled in Jugara [Victor Harbor]. With their intense curiosity and willingness to experiment, it did not take the Gunnagal long to develop new forms of working with iron. This led them to develop a form of mail [4], which is now the basis of their armour.
Their smiths also know how to work in other metals; silver and gold are common for jewellery and other decorative work. Jewellers incorporate a variety of other materials into their designs, especially precious stones such as opals, sapphires and carnelian, and even some animal materials such as turtle shells from their artificial wetlands. They have also become experts in working with brass. They use brass in a number of medical instruments such as forceps, and also in a wide range of musical instruments. Gunnagal musicians use a combination of brass horns, gongs, cymbals, and a four-valved instrument which is like a primitive trumpet.
The Gunnagal obsession with detail has also manifested in their mathematics and calendrical system. Their mathematics uses a base twelve system, because of the way they originally counted. When counting on their fingers, the Gunnagal do not use both hands, but instead use only a single hand. They count with their thumb, using it to count the joints on each of their other fingers. This meant that they counted twelve joints, and this became the foundation of their mathematical system.
The Gunnagal have developed a considerable body of knowledge about mathematics, particularly when relating it to fractions and counting time. Their calendar is based on a series of twelve-day cycles, which can be roughly translated as their week. Each of these days has a different name, and the twelve-day cycles are repeated thirty times throughout their year (i.e. 360 days). They have also developed a month, whose name translates as ‘two times and half a time.’ That is, two twelves and half a twelve (six), which makes for a thirty day month. They have twelve of these months in a year. The remaining intercalary days (5 or 6) occur at the end of their year, and they have special names for those days.
The Gunnagal calendar is an ancient system, and has been adopted by many peoples across the eastern half of the continent. The Gunnagal themselves, though, have been more concerned with precision of measurement. They are acutely aware of the irregular nature of the year, and add 5 or 6 days as necessary to align the calendar with the sun and stars. They have also developed more detailed methods for keeping track of time. Most peoples of the continent rely on sundials, but the Gunnagal have created intricate water clocks with feedback systems and intricate gearing to ensure that time is accurately recorded.
Their close recording of time has also led to the development of a currency system. This started because each of the factions kept their own stores of yams and wattleseeds from the harvests they control. These stores became a source of wealth which could be traded for other purposes. To spare themselves the inconvenience of transporting large weights of wattleseeds or yams when trading, they developed a system of carefully marked clay tokens which were used as receipts. Yams or wattleseeds which were deposited at warehouses were issued these receipts, and the tokens could be traded as a form of currency [5]. Unlike other some other forms of currency, however, the value of a token decreases over time, since stored food diminishes due to consumption, rot and pests.
The receipt and food storage system is divided into two classes of token. Those representing stored yams are initially worth more, since their flavour is preferred. However, their value decreases quickly, since like all root crops they are more prone to rot. Stored wattleseeds are of less initial value, but they decline much more slowly in their worth.
The receipt tokens are used as a currency where they are traded between people to simplify exchanges of goods. However, they are limited in that they can only be redeemed in the same warehouse where the food was stored, so that they can be checked against the warehouse records to reduce fraud. They cannot be redeemed in other cities in the kingdom, or even in other warehouses of the same faction in the same city. The tokens are still sometimes traded at different cities, but the value of these tokens depends on both their age and how far they are from their home city. Not all the tokens are from the factions; Pliri temples operate a similar system, based on their donations of goods and food provided by the devout.
* * *
While the Gunnagal will argue about almost anything, there is one group of people they rarely argue with: their doctors. The best doctors on the continent live in the Five Rivers. In some respects, their physicians are better than European doctors in the same period. This is largely because the Gunnagal are the heirs of a wholly different medical tradition, which does not include many of the errors of European medicine at that time. For instance, the Gunnagal were fortunate not to inherit any belief in the value of bloodletting or of the widespread use of leeches. While Gunnagal medical tradition has its own mistaken beliefs and ineffective practices, few of those are as likely to harm their patients as bloodletting.
The main Gunnagal medical tradition originated from physicians who lived in the early Imperial period and afterward, when the spread of literacy allowed ideas to be communicated over wide distances. Several early physicians conducted systematic studies of people with a variety of diseases, injuries, and other conditions. Physicians emerged as a separate social class during the Imperial period, and have remained so ever since. They move freely amongst all of the kingdoms of the Five Rivers, and maintain contact with their fellow physicians and monitor their treatments. This is mostly because poor physicians can be ostracised and punished, but it also allows them to share knowledge of new discoveries.
Gunnagal physicians have an established knowledge of pathology. They have categorised and recognised a variety of diseases, with their usual symptoms and prognosis. They have a basic knowledge of epidemiology; they understand that epidemics can occur, and recommend quarantine to prevent the spread of disease. However, their knowledge is far from perfect; they also recommend quarantine for some diseases such as cataracts which are not contagious.
Gunnagal doctors have a reasonable knowledge of anatomy. Several physicians have performed dissections over the years, and made some accurate deductions about some aspects of human physiology. Still, they have no concept of using autopsies to identify the cause of death of any particular disease.
When treating illnesses, Gunnagal physicians draw a sharp distinction between two kinds of sickness. These can be approximately translated as “natural” and “supernatural” illnesses. They believe that natural illnesses have physical causes and be treated as such, while supernatural illnesses can only be cured by spiritual treatments [6].
Natural illnesses include injuries, rashes, and other diseases with clear external symptoms. Supernatural illnesses include diseases where the symptoms are either less obvious or completely internal, such as some cancers. Sometimes, according to Gunnagal physicians, natural and supernatural illnesses coincide, and separate treatments are used for each. Fever without any other obvious external symptoms is considered to be a supernatural illnesses, although fever associated with a rash, cough, sore throat, or other respiratory infection is considered to be a natural illness.
This means that someone who catches the worst epidemic disease, Marnitja, is considered to have suffered a combination of natural and supernatural illness. The first stage, pink cough, is considered to be a natural illness, while the later fevered delirium is considered to be a supernatural illness which is beyond the power of any physician to heal.
Supernatural illnesses are treated by a special class of priest-healers, who are distinct from physicians and generally look down on them. The priest-healers remedies do not involve anything as mundane as touching the patients or using much in the way of medicine. Their methods mostly involve a combination of chanting, invocations, prayer, and spiritual communion with the patient. These treatments mostly don’t do much harm, but then they don’t do much good either.
In some cases, the priest-healers’ methods have some slight benefits. By talking with the patients and encouraging them, they sometimes strengthen the patient’s own sense of self-belief, which can occasionally encourage healing. On the other hand, some of their methods also include keeping people awake for long periods, since this is thought to allow communion with the person’s spirit. In fact, depriving patients of sleep can sometimes weaken their immune system instead of allowing them to fight off diseases.
For natural illnesses, Gunnagal physicians have a wider variety of treatments, some of which are actually effective. They can perform some simple surgery, ranging from minor draining of abscesses up to amputation of limbs. However, they have only limited methods of stopping blood loss, so many surgeons’ patients do not survive. Some physicians are experts at dentistry, including the extraction of teeth and their partial or full replacement by gold teeth. Of course, only the truly wealthy can afford to use gold teeth.
A variety of treatments are based around the application of plant and animal products. In many cases, these products are in fact useless. A wide array of ointments, lotions, and other products are applied to irritated skin and eyes, or inhaled as nasal decongestants. Emu fat is a popular treatment as an ointment, although it does not do any good. Physicians also recommend a number of plant-based tonics to promote general good health. Most of these treatments are of limited practical benefit, save as placebos, but they don't do any actual harm, and so their use has persisted.
Still, a few of the plant-based treatments do have some effectiveness. Sweet sarsaparilla is a plant native to the east coast, but the spice trade had long ago brought it to Tjibarr. This plant has roots and leaves which are turned into a tonic which helps to treat chest infections, inflammations, and which can also prevent scurvy in winter. It is also used to alleviate the symptoms of some skin diseases, although with less effectiveness, and is sometimes drunk as a cure-all to ensure good health [7].
Corkwoods are a group of small trees which the Gunnagal find invaluable. One species (Duboisia hopwoodii) is the source of their valued drug pituri. However, another species of corkwood (D. myoporoides) contains a number of alkaloids in its leaves which the Gunnagal use to produce some effective medications. An extract from the plant’s leaves can be used to treat disorders of the digestive system, such as ulcers, inflamed stomach, and colic. Another extract from the leaves can also be used as a pain treatment, especially during childbirth. Unfortunately, there are occasional medical lapses with corkwood extract. Like most early painkillers, physicians found it difficult to get the dosage right, and overuse can sometimes harm or kill mothers [8].
Perhaps the most effective medical treatment available to Gunnagal physicians came from a chance discovery from one of their oldest medical treatments. Since pre-farming days, steam baths had been used to alleviate some illnesses such as headaches or colds. In the simple form, these consisted of boiling up the leaves of a chosen plant over a fire, while the patient inhaled the steam which this produced. Usually this was done for individuals, but with growing urban population, some physicians started to use communal steam baths.
Depending on the particular illness, a variety of plants could be used in steam baths, especially gum trees. Another of the popular plants they imported for this purpose, the ti tree (Melaleuca linariifolia), originally came from the eastern coast, but was grown further west both for medical and perfume uses. Ti tree leaves were among the various plant remedies used for skin irritations when applied directly, but they were also used in steam baths.
The use of communal steam baths meant that the oil from ti tree leaves would often condense on the roof as the steam cooled. Alert Gunnagal physicians noticed that the condensing steam on the roof contained a stronger smell of ti tree than the natural leaves. In time, this led to the development of distillation techniques to extract ti tree oil from the leaves. Distillation as a technology has mostly been confined to physicians, although recently it has also been used by perfume makers.
Gunnagal physicians use ti tree oil (and some other leaf oils) to treat wounds, as an antifungal medication, and to alleviate some other skin conditions. For these purposes, it is usually quite effective. However, this also leads to some complications. Excessive use of ti tree oil can cause irritation or inflammation. Using it around the ears also produces gradual hearing loss, something which Gunnagal physicians have so far not noticed. Still, for all of its downsides, ti tree oil remains a valuable antiseptic and has reduced death rates due to infected wounds [9].
* * *
In its agriculture and cuisine, the kingdom of Tjibarr is at the crossroads of the continent. Many crops have been domesticated here or obtained from other lands. Even some plants which cannot be grown along the Nyalananga lands are imported from elsewhere for the kingdom’s inhabitants to consume. For the Gunnagal have the greatest preference for variety and flavouring in their foods of any people on the continent. The elites, in particular, enjoy having a wide choice of foods, and often encourage some use of irrigation to grow small amounts of crops which would otherwise be unsuitable in the dry lands along the Nyalananga.
For all of their new crops, the single largest source of calories still comes from staple root crops. The red yam is their most important crop, as it has been for four millennia, and the murnong (yam daisy) is an important secondary crop. Whether baked, roasted, fried, boiled, steamed, grated, mashed or pounded into a paste-like porridge, the Gunnagal have long made root crops the basis of their cuisine.
Other root crops have spread along the trade routes in recent years, bringing new options for Gunnagal chefs. Lesser yams have spread from the tropical north. Contact with the Patjimunra on the east coast brought sweet potatoes, known by their Maori name of kumara, and which had ultimately originated in distant South America. From the western Atjuntja lands came two other root crops, the warran yam and the bush potato, long cultivated in the western lands, then adopted by the Islanders and then spread up the Nyalananga [10]. None of these crops gave yields as large as the red yam, and the sweet potato in particular required more labour since it needed irrigation and was an annual plant, unlike most native perennial crops. Still, they brought new flavours to the cuisine, and the royal family of Tjibarr have been noted consumers of sweet potato for the last few decades.
The other staple crop is wattles, the wealth-trees, the plants of multitudinous uses. Eight main species have been domesticated, with the Gunnagal domesticating the first three and in time acquiring most of the others from elsewhere [11]. The nature of Gunnagalic farming means that at least two species are usually cultivated in any given area, so Tjibarr farmers make use of a wide range of wattle crops. Cultivated wattles and their products have a myriad of uses: timber, dyes, adhesives, soil revitalisers, a source of bark-skin paper, mulch, tannins for leather, scents in perfumes, and many more.
However, from a culinary perspective, the main use for wattleseeds is the production of wattleseeds, with a secondary production of wattle gum. The different species of wattleseeds offer some differences in flavouring but are otherwise similar. Wattleseeds can be eaten whole like a cereal, but they are usually ground into flour. Wattleseed flour lacks gluten, and so it does not rise when baked, so it is most commonly cooked into a variety of flatbreads. Noodles are another common culinary practice for wattleseed flour, made by boiling the flour either alone or with duck or emu eggs. The first visiting Europeans who tasted these products called them black noodles, because of the distinctive dark colour of wattleseed flour. The Gunnagal also grow a few other crops which produce edible seeds, such as purslane, native flax, or spiny-headed mat-rush. These seeds are also ground into flour, and used either in combination with wattleseed flour for additional flavouring, or used as a substitute.
Besides staple crops, the Gunnagal grow many other plants as delicacies, nutritional supplements, or for non-food uses. Fruits and nuts are much favoured, and the Gunnagal have access to a variety of them. Many of these fruits were domesticated early in the history of Gunnagalic civilization, and are widespread in Tjibarr and elsewhere in the Five Rivers. The most commonly grown fruits are those which can be grown without irrigation: quandongs, desert limes, and native raspberries. Some other native fruits require irrigation and are thus either imported or grown as rare delicacies or for the social elite; the most notable of these are muntries, native passionfruit, and apple berry [12].
In recent times, the Gunnagal have domesticated some additional fruits to add to their cuisine. Australian boxthorn (Lycium australe) is a relative of the wolfberry or goji berry (L. barbarum and L. chinense) which was first domesticated in China. Australian boxthorn is a small, hardy shrub which produces small orange-red berries, and had long been collected by hunter-gatherer Aboriginal peoples. The early Gunnagal also collected the wild plants, sometimes for their fruit, but more often for using their leaves or root bark as part of traditional medicines for treating sore eyes, inflammations, and skin diseases. This process slowly led to the domestication of the plant.
The Gunnagal use cultivated Australian boxthorn for medicinal purpose, but they have discovered a much more pleasing use. The Gunnagal had long produced ganyu (yam wine) from fermenting yams and flavouring it with the juice of desert limes. Boxthorn fruit has a nut-like taste which neatly complemented the flavour of ganyu, and so now most of the fruit harvest goes for this purpose.
Another plant which the Gunnagal have recently domesticated is the bush pear (Marsdenia australis), a native vine which is widespread across the interior. It is most common in the more arid areas, away from the main farming civilizations, and thus was not domesticated early. It started to be cultivated during the unusual climatic conditions of the ninth and tenth centuries AD, when farming peoples moved into the Red Lands beyond the Anedeli [Darling] and became more familiar with some of the desert plants. Domesticated bush pears spread out from the Red Lands to the other farming peoples of the Five Rivers, including Tjibarr.
The bush pear is a drought-hardy vine of which almost all parts of the plant are edible. It produces a pear-shaped fruit with a great many seeds inside; the fruit pulp is sweet, and the edible seeds are reminiscent of peas. The leaves and stems of the plant are equally edible, and are collected and roasted whenever the vines are pruned. The flowers can be collected and cooked, with a taste that is reportedly like broccoli. The vine also produces an edible root tuber which the Gunnagal chefs collect and roast along with yams and murnong. The Gunnagal name for the bush pear translates – for very good reason – as “many vine.”
The settlement of the Red Lands also led to the domestication of the kutjera or desert raisin (Solanum centrale). A relative of tomatoes and tamarillo, this plant produces a small fruit with a strong, pungent taste. It is widespread across the arid regions of the continental interior. In the wild, it fruits prolifically in the year after fires or good rains. When farmers moved beyond the Anedeli, they discovered that they could mimic these effects by a little judicious irrigation. This led to the domestication of kutjera. The strong taste of the fruit means that it is commonly used as a condiment in sauces and dressings, and is only rarely eaten fresh [13].
Besides their new fruit crops, the Gunnagal in Tjibarr and elsewhere in the Five Rivers have also benefitted from the spread of two new nut crops. Macadamia trees are native to the higher rainfall areas of the eastern seaboard, and produce a nut which for a long time was wild-gathered as a favoured food. Over time, this led to the domestication of the macadamia amongst the ancestors of the Kiyungu [in coastal south-eastern Queensland]. Cultivation of the macadamia spread along the tin routes until it arrived in Tjibarr’s lands. However, growing of macadamias is on a small scale, since they require substantial irrigation. Macadamia nuts are only eaten by the social elite, since they control the limited supply [14].
The other nut crop which the Gunnagal sometimes use is unusual in that it has not, strictly speaking, been domesticated. The bunya tree (Araucaria bidwillii) is a conifer which produces very large cones full of edible nuts, similar to pine nuts, which can be eaten raw or roasted, or ground into flour and cooked into bread. The bunya is erratic in both its germination and in its seed production; cones are not formed every year. To hunter-gatherer peoples, the intermittent fruiting of the bunya tree (usually every third year) was a sacred occasion. Disputes were halted by truce and runners carried message sticks from band to band, leading to great gatherings (corroborees) where many peoples came together to feast on the abundant harvest. The bunya tree itself was regarded as sacred.
The veneration of the bunya tree was one belief which withstood the tide of the Great Migrations. When Gunnagalic farmers first entered regions where the bunya trees grew, they acquired the same view of the tree as sacred. Since they were already growing their own food, the fruiting of the bunya no longer brought about the same gathering of people, but it was still regarded as a time where disputes should be put aside. Sacred bunya trees also spread south along the tin routes, even to the drier regions where they required irrigation to grow. The trees have not changed in any significant way from their wild ancestors, and are thus not truly domesticated, but they are still cultivated widely. Amongst the Gunnagal in Tjibarr, the fruiting of the bunya trees is a time of truce amongst the factions, when disputes are set aside and the bunya nuts are handed out freely for all to consume. The tree itself is also revered; it is considered extremely poor manners to have any arguments or violence while close to a bunya tree.
Gunnagal cuisine also incorporates a range of other plants which have some nutritional or taste benefits. They have a variety of crops which are grown partly or primarily as leaf vegetables; warrigal greens, purslane, and scrub nettles are among the most common. Native flax is grown both for its edible seeds and as a source of fibre crop. Several thousand years of selective breeding means that some varieties of native flax now have very large seeds. These are often pressed to extract a form of linseed oil which is used in cooking. They grow beefsteak fungus and several species of mushrooms, which are carefully cultivated on mulches of wattle timber and leaves enriched with emu manure.
Of all the plant products available to the Gunnagal, though, none are more treasured than those which are used as drugs or spices. The most basic spice is a sweetener, wattle gum. One of the many uses of this gum is to dissolve it in water and use it to sweeten drinks or as part of sauces and dressings on food. Wattle gum is relatively cheap to obtain. It is tapped from wattles by cutting notches into the bark once the summer heat has faded, and returning a few weeks later to collect the large lumps of gum which exude from the notches.
The Gunnagal use a variety of herbs and spices as part of their cuisine. Some are grown locally in dryland agriculture or through irrigation, while others are imported along the trade routes from north, east or south. Many of the locally-grown spices have been modified by thousands of years of selective breeding into much stronger, more consistent flavours than their wild ancestors.
The most commonly used local spices are river mint, mintbushes, and pepperbushes, which are all easily cultivatable using dryland agriculture or light irrigation [15]. Eucalyptus leaves from several species of local gum trees are also used to flavour food; the most commonly cultivated species are blue-leaved mallee (Eucalyptus polybractea) and peppermint gum (E. dives). Sea celery, a close relative of common celery, is grown as a herb and condiment. Lemon-scented grass (Cymbopogon ambiguus) is used as a herb in cooking [like common lemon grass], and is also used to make a lemony tea.
Some spices which were originally native to the eastern coast are now grown in considerable quantities in Gunnagal lands. Native ginger (Alpinia caerulea) is a shrub whose berries, leaf tips and roots produce subtly different gingery flavours. Gunnagal chefs choose which sort of ginger to use depending on their preferences, and their general attitude is that no good roast is complete without being flavoured by some form of native ginger. The roots, shoots and berries of sweet sarsaparilla (Smilax glyciphylla) are also used by Gunnagal chefs to flavour drinks and soups. As well as being a seasoning, sweet sarsaparilla is an important element of Gunnagal medicine.
The most valuable spices are those which are too difficult to grow in the dry, occasionally frost-prone lands along the Nyalananga. These spices the Gunnagal need to import from elsewhere, usually from the damper areas in the eastern mountains or even the eastern seaboard. The overland spice routes are ancient, with some of them having been used for two millennia. Some of these spices routes have been partly replaced by seaborne trade on Nangu ships, but many of the spices grow best in more northerly regions where the Nangu do not visit. The two most important areas of spice production are the Daluming kingdom [around Coffs Harbour] and in Patjimunra lands [Hunter Valley].
Of the spices imported from the east coast, the greatest quantity and the greatest prices are both commanded by myrtles. These are several species of trees whose leaves contain distinctive flavours. On the eastern coast these leaves are normally used fresh, but they are also easily dried and traded overland. Lemon myrtle (Backhousia citriodora) is the most common, with a sweet blended flavour which the social elites in Tjibarr consider as superior to any lemon-flavoured alternatives [16]. Aniseed myrtle (Syzygium anisatum), cinnamon myrtle (Backhousia myrtifolia) and curry myrtle (B. angustifolia) also have highly-valued flavours, and are traded over the mountains in considerable volume. Apart from myrtles, the other main spice is the strawberry gum (Eucalyptus olida), whose leaves are dried and used for similar purposes as a sweet spice [17].
Apart from their many spices, the plants most important to the Gunnagal are those which are used to make their main drug, pituri. By far the preferred plant for this purpose is corkwood. For centuries Garrkimang had an effective monopoly on corkwood production, but it has now spread throughout the Five Rivers, including to Tjibarr. Pituri is a nicotine-rich drug formed by mixing corkwood (or a substitute) with wood ash from wattle trees, and which is then chewed [18]. It acts as a stimulant, creating a sense of wellbeing, and in mild doses it can suppress hunger and thirst. In particularly strong doses, pituri can act as a sedative or a hallucinogen.
Those Gunnagal who cannot afford pituri have to rely on the old standby of alcohol. The most expensive form is gum cider, which needs to be imported from the Cider Isle [Tasmania]. This is rare and expensive in Tjibarr, and virtually unavailable further upriver. The best locally-produced form of alcohol is ganyu, a form of yam wine mixed with other fruit flavourings such as desert limes or boxthorn fruit. For those who cannot afford ganyu, the alternative is a kind of yam beer which has only a weak alcohol concentration. The Gunnagal do not have access to distilled spirits; knowledge of distillation is still restricted to doctors and perfume-makers.
In terms of meat and animal products in their cuisine, the Gunnagal at Tjibarr and elsewhere in the Five Rivers have not changed much since their early ancestors. They still maintain artificial wetlands as a source of fish and waterbirds. Their key domesticated animals for meat are emus and ducks, with dogs an occasional delicacy. Duck and emu eggs are used in their cuisine almost as much as the meat of those animals. However, they have not yet obtained the domesticated geese which are used by some peoples on the Cider Isle and other south-eastern regions.
* * *
For more than two thousand years, the Gunnagal and their ancestors have used a perennial system of agriculture. Cyclical experience with droughts and loss of soil fertility taught them the importance of systems which could replenish the land, and which could prepare for downturns. Sometimes this involved crop rotation or companion planting. Sometimes it involved developing methods of food storage which would last for a decade or more [19]. Sometimes it meant selection of crop species which could survive the trials of occasional drought, flooding, or bushfires.
All of these practices had one factor in common: they required the Gunnagal to think about the longer term. These agricultural requirements have contributed to the broader development of a long-term mindset amongst the Gunnagal, both in terms of government planning and individual decision-making. They are not conservationists in any modern sense of the word; they still see the natural world as something to be exploited. Still, they do think in terms of what an action will mean, not just for today, but for the future. They also are more alert to gradual shifts in climate, in soil fertility, or other developments.
For instance, in their creation and maintenance of artificial wetlands, and their designation of royal hunting grounds, Gunnagal government and faction planners think in terms of sustainability. Catches of waterfowl and fish are subject to quotas, and only chosen hunters are allowed to catch kangaroos in designated hunting areas.
When it comes to planting and maintaining forests, the Gunnagal adopt a longer term view. They can obtain plenty of small-scale timber from their planting of wattles, but their main domesticated wattles do not grow tall enough to supply really large logs. For this, and for other tree-related products, the Gunnagal have turned to plantation systems, coppicing, and managed woodlands. They maintain plantations of a number of fast-growing eucalypts such as blue gums, which they cut down every ten or fifteen years, and then leave to regrow. This gives them a useful source of larger timber for construction, boat-building, and other purposes.
In other woodlands, the Gunnagal also think in terms of managing environment for more thorough exploitation. They will selectively burn or uproot weed species in favour of plants which they find more useful. They sometimes make small clearings to allow favoured understorey plants to appear, particularly those which produce seasonal fruits or other flavoursome products. These plants are not domesticated as such, but the Gunnagal still rely on gathering their products [20]. Anywhere near where the Gunnagal live, no area is truly a wilderness, even if it only rarely has people in it.
Some of the trees which are planted and managed in this format are not used for timber, but for more valuable products. The Gunnagal around Tjibarr have developed substantial plantations of black and white cypress pines, two relatively drought-tolerant conifers native to their homeland [21]. The cypress pines are eventually harvested for high-quality timber, but throughout their lives, they are tapped as a source of resin. The Gunnagal use this resin for many purposes, such as a varnish and adhesive, for soap-making, an ingredient in ink, and as a component of incense.
Their most valuable use of resin, however, comes from the application of another Gunnagal discovery: distillation. Gunnagal chemists have learned how to distil resin and other plant products to produce essential oils. The main use of these distilled products comes from the production of perfumes. While several peoples across the continent manufacture perfumes from crushed herbs and plant products, only the Gunnagal know how to distil resin, flowers, and leaves to obtain more concentrated fragrances.
Gunnagal perfume makers use a variety of blends of distilled resins, flowers (especially wattles), and other aromatic parts of plants to produce a diverse range of perfumes. These scented products are sometimes used for religious purposes, and are also a significant part of Tjibarr’s exports. The most expensive of all perfumes are those made using a form of musk. Gunnagal perfume makers collect this product from the musk duck, a bird which frequents their artificial wetlands. The rights of harvesting musk ducks are one of the most contentious of economic issues that the factions argue over; musk is the most expensive animal-based product on the continent. The complex, earthy fragrances of musk-based perfumes are the most highly-favoured scent on the continent [22].
* * *
In 1618, as the isolation of the island continent comes to an end, all of its inhabitants will face immense challenges. Contact with the outside world, with its new technologies, faiths, diseases and ideas, will change the fate of the island continent. Still, of all of the peoples who cultivate yams and wattles, the Gunnagal are perhaps the most fortunate. With their immense curiosity, ruthless exploitation of any possible advantages, and mindfulness of the longer term, the Gunnagal are the best-placed to exploit the threats and opportunities which they will encounter in the decades ahead...
* * *
[1] The Copper Coast is the name which the Gunnagal use for the fertile regions in contemporary south-eastern South Australia, stretching from the Murray Mouth to Port Augusta. In contemporary Australia, this region holds most of South Australia’s population and agriculture. The Gunnagal call it the Copper Coast for reasons of historical memory; it was the most important ancient source of copper. While the metal is still mined there, it has become less important since the Gunnagal learned the arts of ironworking; iron is mined both in the Copper Coast (some small deposits) and in other locations throughout Tjibarr’s territory.
[2] The factions have preserved the old colour names: gray, white, black, gold, blue (i.e. medium and dark blue), azure (light blue), green and red. Aside from some occasional decorative motifs, they have lost the connection with the ‘totems’ which their ancestors used.
[3] If the Gunnagal were medieval Christians, they would not just argue over how many angels could fit on the head of a pin, but what their names were, what they were wearing, and which direction the pin was pointing.
[4] Or chain mail, as it is sometimes anachronistically called.
[5] A similar system was used in ancient Egypt, although through the temples rather than any equivalent of the factions.
[6] Historical Aboriginal peoples drew a similar distinction between physical and spiritual illnesses.
[7] Sweet sarsaparilla (Smilax glyciphylla) is a close relative of Jamaican sarsaparilla (S. regelii). The Jamaican plant has been used as a flavouring and medicine in much of the world, and the Australian version has similar properties. Sweet sarsaparilla is native to the east coast, but it is easily cultivatable over a wide range of habitats. (In contemporary Australia, it is mostly used as an ornamental plant.) It was an important component of traditional Aboriginal medicine, and used for medicinal purposes in early colonial days. It was also one of the first native Australian plants to be exported in quantity; for a time in the nineteenth century, it was exported to China for use in traditional medicine there. Sources differ as to how much medical benefit sweet sarsaparilla has. It can definitely prevent scurvy, and it seems to reduce inflammations, but the other uses it was put to may just have been the placebo effect in action.
[8] This species of corkwood (Duboisia myoporoides) is commercially grown today as a source of several alkaloids used to make modern pharmaceutical products. In addition to the uses listed above, it can also be used to treat motion sickness and in various psychiatric uses, such as a rapid-onset sedative or to alleviate Parkinson’s disease.
[9] Ti trees were an important component of traditional Aboriginal medicine. Today, the commercial extraction of ti tree oil from plantations has become a significant industry. While there are some extravagant claims made for the benefits of ti tree oil, its use as an antiseptic and antifungal agent is much more well-documented. The ti tree oil which the Gunnagal use comes from a species called the narrow-leaved paperbark (Melaleuca linariifolia). This is a different species to the main source of commercial ti tree oil today (M. alternifolia), but the properties of the oil are more or less identical.
[10] The lesser yam (Dioscorea angustus) is a hybrid of red yams with another native yam species, the long yam (D. transversa). It needs somewhat higher rainfall and/or irrigation and produces smaller yields than red yams, and is thus a secondary crop. (It is more important in the north, since unlike red yams, it can grow in the tropics.) Warran yams (D. hastifolia) are another native yam species which can be grown in areas of moderate rainfall. “Bush potato” is a name which has been applied to several Australian plants. The one referred to here is Platysace deflexa, which is unrelated to yams but which has quite a distinctive sweet taste.
[11] The various kinds of domesticated wattles differ in their productivity for seeds, the time of flowering (early or late), how much wattle gum and/or tannins they produce, and their rainfall requirements. The most important wattle crop throughout most of *Australia is the bramble wattle (Acacia victoriae), although the sallow wattle (A. longifolia) is more intensively grown in the higher-rainfall areas along the eastern seaboard and in Aotearoa.
[12] All of the fruits listed here are plants which have domesticated or otherwise cultivated in contemporary Australia. In particular, quandong (Santalum acuminatum) is commercially cultivated on an increasing scale. Australia has several native species of passionfruit; the one described here is Passiflora herbertiana.
[13] Kutjera (Solanum centrale) is one of several native Australian plants which are called bush tomatoes. It is cultivated in contemporary Australia in a similar manner to that described here. Small-scale irrigation means that the plant can be induced to produce fruit for up to eight months of the year. This does not need to be a large volume of water; being a drought-adapted plant, the kutjera in fact does not respond well to excessive watering.
[14] Macadamias are the most widespread domesticated native crop in contemporary Australia. The modern crop is mostly a hybrid of two macadamia species (Macadamia integrifolia and M. tetraphylla). The allohistorical crop is derived solely from M. tetraphylla; this was the more widespread plant and was thus domesticated.
[15] River mint (Mentha australis) is a true mint, with a flavour reminiscent of peppermint. Mintbushes, also called native thyme, are restricted to Australia. While their flavour is somewhat akin to true mints, they are nevertheless a distinct taste. The main cultivated mintbush is the roundleaf mintbush (Prostanthera rotundifolia), although several other mintbushes in the Prostanthera genus are also exploited as spices. Several species of pepperbushes are grown in Gunnagal lands, each with their own distinctive tastes. Mountain pepper (Tasmannia lanceolata) is the most common, although the higher water demanding Dorigo peppers (T. stipitata) are also popular. The rarest and most expensive form is purple pepperbush (T. purpurascens), which has the strongest taste. This was native to a small area in the Patjimunra lands [Hunter Valley], but has been cultivated and spread west along the trade routes. All of these pepperbushes require some additional water to support them during drought times. This is commonly collected rainwater or well water used to grow the plants in small gardens, although there is some larger-scale cultivation using irrigation.
[16] Australia has several cultivatable plants which produce lemony flavourings. As well as lemon myrtle and lemon-scented grass, there are also two species called lemon-scented tea trees (Leptospermum petersonii and L. liversidgei) which can be used to make a lemon-flavoured tea. All of these are cultivated on the eastern coast, where tea from lemon-scented tea trees has become a cultural icon. However, to peoples in the Five Rivers, lemon-scented tea has never held much interest, and lemon myrtle is considered superior as a flavouring, so it is the only one traded across the mountains.
[17] All of these plants (except for curry myrtle) are commercially grown as spices in contemporary Australia, although lemon myrtle is by far the most common.
[18] Australia has a surprising variety of plants which have nicotine. Aside from corkwood, there are also various native tobacco plants in the Nicotiana genus (relatives of domesticated tobacco), and a range of other species which produce nicotine. Pituri can be made from any of those plants (and was done so in historical Australia), but corkwood (Duboisia hopwoodii) was the preferred species whenever it was available, since it has the highest nicotine content.
[19] The Gunnagal are fortunate in that their main long-term food storage is of wattleseeds. These seeds naturally have thick, impervious coats which allow them to survive in soil for a very long time. In the wild, wattleseeds usually rest in the soil and do not germinate until a fire goes through an area. This means that wattleseeds need to remain viable for over a decade; in some species, they can remain viable for up to fifty years. Luckily for the Gunnagal, this means that stored wattleseeds can keep for a very long time if they are simply sealed in an airtight container or room.
[20] This approach is in some ways similar – although more extensive - to what happened in parts of medieval Europe and elsewhere in the world. In medieval Europe, a lot of fruit-bearing plants such as raspberries and blackberries were not yet domesticated, but woodlands were managed in ways which encouraged their growth, and gathering of wild berries produced considerable harvests. Likewise, coppicing of trees was a useful source of timber.
[21] The black cypress pine (Callitris endlicheri) and white cypress pine (C. columellaris or C. glaucophylla, depending who you ask) are native Australian conifers which grow reasonably well even in drought-prone areas. The white cypress pine, in particular, has flourished since European arrival. The distilled oil from these pines is used today as a basis of perfumes and other products.
[22] Musk was until recently an extremely valuable product harvested from various animals in Eurasia, particularly the musk deer. (In allohistorical Australia, the musk duck (Biziura lobata) – a bird endemic to wetlands in the south-eastern part of the continent – will be a similarly-prized animal for the fragrance it yields.) Until the development of synthetic musk, the collection of musk from musk deer produced what was one of the most expensive products in the world; by weight, it was sometimes worth more than twice as much as gold.
* * *
Thoughts?
Look back, if you will, into the past of a history that was not. You might see a city built on what appears to be a large hill. Tjibarr, its inhabitants call it, which in their language means “the place of the gathering.” The heart of the city is built on what seems to be a natural mound raised above the surrounding countryside.
In fact, this mound is not natural. Tjibarr is an ancient city, the oldest continually inhabited city on the continent, and this mound shows the accumulation of history. Level after level of the city has been built over the ruined foundations of its predecessors, in a series which stretches back more than four millennia.
The city’s inhabitants are aware of some of that long history. Their historical memory does not stretch back as far as the city has been inhabited; the most ancient times have been lost in the mists of myth and pre-literacy. Still, they remember the past, and draw from its lessons to understand their present.
Water surrounds Tjibarr on all sides. To the north lies the Nyalananga [River Murray], the Water Mother, the greatest river which the people of Tjibarr know. To the east lies a natural lagoon which has been expanded by human actions, and beyond that the Anerina [River Loddon]. To the west and the south lie more lagoons, these wholly artificial. The lagoons act as a defence, as a source of food, and for flood control since they can absorb some of the rising waters of the Nyalananga. Roads lead through the lagoons, yet they can be easily flooded if the need arises. While some goods do move by road, the bulk of trade moves by boat, so even being fully surrounded by water will merely inconvenience its inhabitants.
Oft times the city has been surrounded by water for months, either when enemy armies threaten, or when the Nyalananga floods. This matters little to the people of Tjibarr. What they care about is inside the city itself. Here is the Thousand-Fold Palace, where it is said that a thousand kings have reigned from within its walls and then been interred in stone within its foundations. Here is the Plaza of the Four Moons, the grand square which is at the heart of the city, lined with statues of monarchs and other important beings, both historical and spiritual. The Plaza is an important gathering point when the rulers call the people together, and hosts the main markets of the city, where its inhabitants fondly believe that they can find anything worth buying.
Here is the Hall of Rainbows, an elaborately-constructed building with eight wings around an octagonal centre. Each of these wings has been carefully measured to be of equal area. The eight-sided central complex is where the elders of the factions meet to discuss matters of common concern, while above them towers the marble spire which is the tallest point in the city. Here are the several carefully cultivated fields where the factions play out their rivalry. On the largest of those sports arenas, the Field of Champions, twenty thousand people can gather to watch their faction’s sporting heroes demonstrate their skills. Here are a myriad of temples and shrines, offering their own form of testament to the diverse views encapsulated in Tjibarr’s syncretic religious outlook. It is said that Tjibarr has a shrine on every street corner, and this is not far from the truth.
Here, too, are all of the less prominent but equally essential buildings needed for a thriving city. Tjibarr throngs with people, both residents and visitors, for it is both an important trade nexus and manufacturer of specialty goods. The workshops, the schools, the warehouses, the docks, the houses, and other buildings of Tjibarr are less spectacular in their construction, but equally important for the city’s functioning.
* * *
Tjibarr is not the largest city on the continent, but it is the oldest. It forms the spiritual heart of the kingdom which bears its name, thanks to its ancient legacy of sacred places and religious traditions. These days, other cities are nearly as important in terms of economics or population, especially Tapiwal [Robinvale], but Tjibarr remains the official capital and most frequent residence of the royal family.
The inhabitants of Tjibarr and its surroundings call themselves the Gunnagal, a name which future linguists and anthropologists will give to all of the languages and peoples descended from the first yam farmers who lived around Tjibarr. In 1618, though, the name Gunnagal simply refers to the speakers of a related series of dialects around Tjibarr and its environs. They are the largest ethnicity within the kingdom’s borders, although far from the only one. Several other Gunnagalic-speaking peoples are subjects of Tjibarr, and even a few hunter-gatherer peoples along the driest reaches of the Nyalananga are also more or less willing servants of the king.
The heartland of the kingdom of Tjibarr is the middle stretches of the Nyalananga, which it has controlled since time immemorial. The other borders of the kingdom have expanded and shrunk over the centuries, as rivals have emerged or subject peoples have revolted.
In 1618, Tjibarr shares control of the Five Rivers with two other kingdoms, that of Gutjanal [Albury-Wodonga] on the upper Nyalananga, and that of Yigutji [Wagga Wagga] which controls most of the course of the most fertile tributary river, the Matjidi [Murrumbidgee]. The most powerful rival of all is to the south; the Yadji Empire has long fought with Tjibarr. Over the last two years, Tjibarr’s armies have been victorious over the Yadji; driving them from the mouth of the Nyalananga, and bringing the rich territories of the Copper Coast [1] under their sway.
Whether this victory will endure is difficult to be sure; even some of the Gunnagal generals are not optimistic. The Yadji have always been a difficult foe, and the other neighbours of Gutjanal and Yigutji are sometimes foes and sometimes allies, as the tides of war and politics shift. The last war which Gutjanal and Yigutji fought was against each other, while in the war before that, Gutjanal fought with Tjibarr against an alliance of Yigutji and the Yadji.
Still, of all the threats to the recent conquests, the greatest probably come from within Tjibarr itself. For Tjibarr is nominally a kingdom, but the power of the monarch is far from absolute. The internal politics of Tjibarr are convoluted, based on a system of semi-hereditary factions whose relations are byzantine in their complexity. The monarch is personally revered, but to most of the kingdom’s inhabitants, their loyalty to their faction matters much more than their relationship to the monarch.
The ancient institution of the monarchy had long been seen as serving a role of balancing the factions. With the shifting spiritual tide, some new ideas have penetrated from the Pliri faith, even though the majority of citizens do not follow that religion. The ruler is seen as the essence of harmony, whose role is to maintain balance within the kingdom. Often, this means that the ruler does not have to do much, but simply to be there. This suits the factions, who conduct a lot of government business amongst themselves. But the ruler is expected to act to preserve the balance, live an orderly life, and deal with outside threats.
* * *
The Gunnagal who live in the heart of Tjibarr still preserve the names of the kitjigal, the ancient system of social groupings which had evolved in the formative days of their distant ancestors. However, while the name remains, the kitjigal have evolved into a form which their distant ancestors would barely recognise, if at all. The ancient kitjigal were a hereditary system whose leaders filled a combined role of priests, oligarchs, merchant princes, and military commanders. People were born into a particular kitjigal, could only marry certain other kitjigal, and their children changed kitjigal according to strict patterns.
In 1618, the kitjigal have evolved into a more fluid system of what are called factions. The factions are a form of social grouping whose activities are intertwined into many aspects of daily life, but which do not have the same hereditary or universal basis as the ancient system. There is no equivalent of the old pattern of people moving between kitjigal over generations; people often remain as members of the same faction as their parents, but they can and sometimes do change between factions [2].
The factions serve many roles in Gunnagal society, but perhaps their most visible role is as competitors and supports of sports. The sports fields of Tjibarr and some other leading cities within the kingdom host regular contests of a kind of football, which evolved out of their old systems of ball games. Gunnagal football involves a combination of kicking and throwing a ball, with the rules allowing them to hold the ball and pass or kick the ball and move. Competition between the factions is intensive, leading to a myriad of arguments, rivalries, and sometimes outright rioting based on the results of games.
The rivalry amongst supporters of the factions spills over to most aspects of daily life. The Gunnagal dress themselves in the colours of their factions, argue endlessly about the results of past games and the skill of individual players, and choose their friends and socialise based largely on faction. The rivalry links to trade and commercial operations; people buying from a merchant of their own faction can expect a better price, in some cases, or at least better treatment and prompter service. Broader cooperation between traders, shippers, and other commercial operation is also often conducted amongst people of the same faction, or at least with a friendly faction.
The factions no longer have any formal role in religion, as they had in the ancient system, but they are an integral part of the aristocracy. For the aristocrats among the Gunnagal are also expected to be supporters of one faction or another, and this is much closer to being a hereditary system than amongst regular supporters. For the nobility, the rivalry amongst the factions is much more about trade and land control than it is about sports, although many individual aristocrats are just as avid football supporters as commoners. Each of the factions also has its own internal politics, with rivalries and personal conflicts being common, especially about which aristocrat keeps control of a given portion of land, or who is allowed to represent the faction when negotiating or arguing with the other factions.
In land control, the faction system has become an integral part of the government. Each faction holds rights to use different areas of land, although they do not own the land in the strict sense of the word. (In theory, they hold it in trust for the monarch.) In most cases, the land is worked by tenant farmers who work for one or other of the factions, and who deliver an agreed portion of their harvests in exchange for this right to work the land. For some specialty crops, the factions do not use tenant farmers, but appoint specialist land managers who can draw on the services of farmers who are effectively hired to work the land for an arranged payment, but who do not directly receive any portion of the harvest. Arguments over land control, farming, and the like form another major part of the rivalry between the factions; in extreme cases it is possible for a faction to be stripped of the right to work a particular area of land.
The faction system also extends to providing justice. If there is a crime committed between two people in the same faction, then it should always be resolved by internal methods. It is considered extremely poor form for outsiders to become involved. Even in disputes between two factions, it is often preferred for leading members of the two factions to arrange a solution. The government can sometimes become involved in such cases, although sometimes private vendettas are used to resolve even the most serious crimes.
The role of the monarchy in this system is thus often to act as an arbiter, although the government administration does perform some other functions. Construction and maintenance of waterworks and aquaculture is under government control, for instance, and the government bureaucracy calls on workers based on need, usually during the downtime of the harvests. The government also maintains something of a standing army, although the factions each have their own armed militia, another reason why sporting arguments often become quite intense. Having armed members of the factions around is sometimes useful, since they will help to defend a city or region in time of war, but it is also means that unpopular monarchs face armed opposition. If the factions act together they can depose any ruler. A skilful monarch usually finds that the best way to survive is to keep a certain tension amongst the factions.
Of course, often monarchs have little difficulty keeping tension amongst the factions, because they argue so much amongst themselves. The Gunnagal are notoriously argumentative; it is said in the Five Rivers that the hallmark of achievement is getting three Gunnagal to agree about anything. Visitors usually conclude that their disputativeness stems from two causes; one being their concern over perceived status, and the other over an extreme obsession with precision and details.
Concern over their reputation and rank is certainly a matter of considerable concern to most Gunnagal. The rivalry between and within the factions contributes to their strong views about perceived status, although there are other factors involved. For instance, one of the customs inherited from the Imperial days is that of the important of the First Speaker, which was the literal translation of the Emperor’s title. While originally for religious purposes, the Gunnagal have come to use speaking first as a measure of primacy at gatherings large and small. Interrupting each other is a sign of dominance, and so can produce some heated responses if it is done.
In large formal gatherings, everyone is expected to remain silent until the leading person gets to speak. They have developed some social rules about how to avoid this, such as for instance not being officially at the gathering until they sit down, and so they can thus speak without offering technical insult to the leading person. This also means that they have developed a form of sign language which they can use to convey meaning without officially speaking.
The other aspect of the argumentative Gunnagal nature comes from what they think of as a concern for accuracy, although outsiders often take it to be pedantic nitpicking. In a discussion, they will explore even minor points in great detail. The Gunnagal often focus on a point to the point of obsession; they will argue a point not only to death, but past its death and keep arguing even after its funeral [3]. This is partly a case of curiosity; the Gunnagal are intensely interested in new ideas and new methods, and partly just a concern with being completely right.
* * *
The Gunnagal obsession with precision is reflected in many other aspects of their society. The one which is best known to their neighbours is the intricacy of their metalwork and other forms of manufacturing. For the Gunnagal are the premier artificers on the continent in their jewellery, their finely-detailed sculptures, and in their metallurgy. Craft objects of wood, stone or metal which are made in Tjibarr are widely exported throughout the continent, carried by the inland trade routes or via the Islanders at the mouth of the Nyalananga. They are also experts at intricate decorations; the interiors of their buildings are often covered with elaborate frescoes and enamelled tiles.
Even much of their bulk metalwork is similarly intricate. Gunnagal smiths learned the art of working iron from a few Atjuntja who travelled on Nangu trade ships and settled in Jugara [Victor Harbor]. With their intense curiosity and willingness to experiment, it did not take the Gunnagal long to develop new forms of working with iron. This led them to develop a form of mail [4], which is now the basis of their armour.
Their smiths also know how to work in other metals; silver and gold are common for jewellery and other decorative work. Jewellers incorporate a variety of other materials into their designs, especially precious stones such as opals, sapphires and carnelian, and even some animal materials such as turtle shells from their artificial wetlands. They have also become experts in working with brass. They use brass in a number of medical instruments such as forceps, and also in a wide range of musical instruments. Gunnagal musicians use a combination of brass horns, gongs, cymbals, and a four-valved instrument which is like a primitive trumpet.
The Gunnagal obsession with detail has also manifested in their mathematics and calendrical system. Their mathematics uses a base twelve system, because of the way they originally counted. When counting on their fingers, the Gunnagal do not use both hands, but instead use only a single hand. They count with their thumb, using it to count the joints on each of their other fingers. This meant that they counted twelve joints, and this became the foundation of their mathematical system.
The Gunnagal have developed a considerable body of knowledge about mathematics, particularly when relating it to fractions and counting time. Their calendar is based on a series of twelve-day cycles, which can be roughly translated as their week. Each of these days has a different name, and the twelve-day cycles are repeated thirty times throughout their year (i.e. 360 days). They have also developed a month, whose name translates as ‘two times and half a time.’ That is, two twelves and half a twelve (six), which makes for a thirty day month. They have twelve of these months in a year. The remaining intercalary days (5 or 6) occur at the end of their year, and they have special names for those days.
The Gunnagal calendar is an ancient system, and has been adopted by many peoples across the eastern half of the continent. The Gunnagal themselves, though, have been more concerned with precision of measurement. They are acutely aware of the irregular nature of the year, and add 5 or 6 days as necessary to align the calendar with the sun and stars. They have also developed more detailed methods for keeping track of time. Most peoples of the continent rely on sundials, but the Gunnagal have created intricate water clocks with feedback systems and intricate gearing to ensure that time is accurately recorded.
Their close recording of time has also led to the development of a currency system. This started because each of the factions kept their own stores of yams and wattleseeds from the harvests they control. These stores became a source of wealth which could be traded for other purposes. To spare themselves the inconvenience of transporting large weights of wattleseeds or yams when trading, they developed a system of carefully marked clay tokens which were used as receipts. Yams or wattleseeds which were deposited at warehouses were issued these receipts, and the tokens could be traded as a form of currency [5]. Unlike other some other forms of currency, however, the value of a token decreases over time, since stored food diminishes due to consumption, rot and pests.
The receipt and food storage system is divided into two classes of token. Those representing stored yams are initially worth more, since their flavour is preferred. However, their value decreases quickly, since like all root crops they are more prone to rot. Stored wattleseeds are of less initial value, but they decline much more slowly in their worth.
The receipt tokens are used as a currency where they are traded between people to simplify exchanges of goods. However, they are limited in that they can only be redeemed in the same warehouse where the food was stored, so that they can be checked against the warehouse records to reduce fraud. They cannot be redeemed in other cities in the kingdom, or even in other warehouses of the same faction in the same city. The tokens are still sometimes traded at different cities, but the value of these tokens depends on both their age and how far they are from their home city. Not all the tokens are from the factions; Pliri temples operate a similar system, based on their donations of goods and food provided by the devout.
* * *
While the Gunnagal will argue about almost anything, there is one group of people they rarely argue with: their doctors. The best doctors on the continent live in the Five Rivers. In some respects, their physicians are better than European doctors in the same period. This is largely because the Gunnagal are the heirs of a wholly different medical tradition, which does not include many of the errors of European medicine at that time. For instance, the Gunnagal were fortunate not to inherit any belief in the value of bloodletting or of the widespread use of leeches. While Gunnagal medical tradition has its own mistaken beliefs and ineffective practices, few of those are as likely to harm their patients as bloodletting.
The main Gunnagal medical tradition originated from physicians who lived in the early Imperial period and afterward, when the spread of literacy allowed ideas to be communicated over wide distances. Several early physicians conducted systematic studies of people with a variety of diseases, injuries, and other conditions. Physicians emerged as a separate social class during the Imperial period, and have remained so ever since. They move freely amongst all of the kingdoms of the Five Rivers, and maintain contact with their fellow physicians and monitor their treatments. This is mostly because poor physicians can be ostracised and punished, but it also allows them to share knowledge of new discoveries.
Gunnagal physicians have an established knowledge of pathology. They have categorised and recognised a variety of diseases, with their usual symptoms and prognosis. They have a basic knowledge of epidemiology; they understand that epidemics can occur, and recommend quarantine to prevent the spread of disease. However, their knowledge is far from perfect; they also recommend quarantine for some diseases such as cataracts which are not contagious.
Gunnagal doctors have a reasonable knowledge of anatomy. Several physicians have performed dissections over the years, and made some accurate deductions about some aspects of human physiology. Still, they have no concept of using autopsies to identify the cause of death of any particular disease.
When treating illnesses, Gunnagal physicians draw a sharp distinction between two kinds of sickness. These can be approximately translated as “natural” and “supernatural” illnesses. They believe that natural illnesses have physical causes and be treated as such, while supernatural illnesses can only be cured by spiritual treatments [6].
Natural illnesses include injuries, rashes, and other diseases with clear external symptoms. Supernatural illnesses include diseases where the symptoms are either less obvious or completely internal, such as some cancers. Sometimes, according to Gunnagal physicians, natural and supernatural illnesses coincide, and separate treatments are used for each. Fever without any other obvious external symptoms is considered to be a supernatural illnesses, although fever associated with a rash, cough, sore throat, or other respiratory infection is considered to be a natural illness.
This means that someone who catches the worst epidemic disease, Marnitja, is considered to have suffered a combination of natural and supernatural illness. The first stage, pink cough, is considered to be a natural illness, while the later fevered delirium is considered to be a supernatural illness which is beyond the power of any physician to heal.
Supernatural illnesses are treated by a special class of priest-healers, who are distinct from physicians and generally look down on them. The priest-healers remedies do not involve anything as mundane as touching the patients or using much in the way of medicine. Their methods mostly involve a combination of chanting, invocations, prayer, and spiritual communion with the patient. These treatments mostly don’t do much harm, but then they don’t do much good either.
In some cases, the priest-healers’ methods have some slight benefits. By talking with the patients and encouraging them, they sometimes strengthen the patient’s own sense of self-belief, which can occasionally encourage healing. On the other hand, some of their methods also include keeping people awake for long periods, since this is thought to allow communion with the person’s spirit. In fact, depriving patients of sleep can sometimes weaken their immune system instead of allowing them to fight off diseases.
For natural illnesses, Gunnagal physicians have a wider variety of treatments, some of which are actually effective. They can perform some simple surgery, ranging from minor draining of abscesses up to amputation of limbs. However, they have only limited methods of stopping blood loss, so many surgeons’ patients do not survive. Some physicians are experts at dentistry, including the extraction of teeth and their partial or full replacement by gold teeth. Of course, only the truly wealthy can afford to use gold teeth.
A variety of treatments are based around the application of plant and animal products. In many cases, these products are in fact useless. A wide array of ointments, lotions, and other products are applied to irritated skin and eyes, or inhaled as nasal decongestants. Emu fat is a popular treatment as an ointment, although it does not do any good. Physicians also recommend a number of plant-based tonics to promote general good health. Most of these treatments are of limited practical benefit, save as placebos, but they don't do any actual harm, and so their use has persisted.
Still, a few of the plant-based treatments do have some effectiveness. Sweet sarsaparilla is a plant native to the east coast, but the spice trade had long ago brought it to Tjibarr. This plant has roots and leaves which are turned into a tonic which helps to treat chest infections, inflammations, and which can also prevent scurvy in winter. It is also used to alleviate the symptoms of some skin diseases, although with less effectiveness, and is sometimes drunk as a cure-all to ensure good health [7].
Corkwoods are a group of small trees which the Gunnagal find invaluable. One species (Duboisia hopwoodii) is the source of their valued drug pituri. However, another species of corkwood (D. myoporoides) contains a number of alkaloids in its leaves which the Gunnagal use to produce some effective medications. An extract from the plant’s leaves can be used to treat disorders of the digestive system, such as ulcers, inflamed stomach, and colic. Another extract from the leaves can also be used as a pain treatment, especially during childbirth. Unfortunately, there are occasional medical lapses with corkwood extract. Like most early painkillers, physicians found it difficult to get the dosage right, and overuse can sometimes harm or kill mothers [8].
Perhaps the most effective medical treatment available to Gunnagal physicians came from a chance discovery from one of their oldest medical treatments. Since pre-farming days, steam baths had been used to alleviate some illnesses such as headaches or colds. In the simple form, these consisted of boiling up the leaves of a chosen plant over a fire, while the patient inhaled the steam which this produced. Usually this was done for individuals, but with growing urban population, some physicians started to use communal steam baths.
Depending on the particular illness, a variety of plants could be used in steam baths, especially gum trees. Another of the popular plants they imported for this purpose, the ti tree (Melaleuca linariifolia), originally came from the eastern coast, but was grown further west both for medical and perfume uses. Ti tree leaves were among the various plant remedies used for skin irritations when applied directly, but they were also used in steam baths.
The use of communal steam baths meant that the oil from ti tree leaves would often condense on the roof as the steam cooled. Alert Gunnagal physicians noticed that the condensing steam on the roof contained a stronger smell of ti tree than the natural leaves. In time, this led to the development of distillation techniques to extract ti tree oil from the leaves. Distillation as a technology has mostly been confined to physicians, although recently it has also been used by perfume makers.
Gunnagal physicians use ti tree oil (and some other leaf oils) to treat wounds, as an antifungal medication, and to alleviate some other skin conditions. For these purposes, it is usually quite effective. However, this also leads to some complications. Excessive use of ti tree oil can cause irritation or inflammation. Using it around the ears also produces gradual hearing loss, something which Gunnagal physicians have so far not noticed. Still, for all of its downsides, ti tree oil remains a valuable antiseptic and has reduced death rates due to infected wounds [9].
* * *
In its agriculture and cuisine, the kingdom of Tjibarr is at the crossroads of the continent. Many crops have been domesticated here or obtained from other lands. Even some plants which cannot be grown along the Nyalananga lands are imported from elsewhere for the kingdom’s inhabitants to consume. For the Gunnagal have the greatest preference for variety and flavouring in their foods of any people on the continent. The elites, in particular, enjoy having a wide choice of foods, and often encourage some use of irrigation to grow small amounts of crops which would otherwise be unsuitable in the dry lands along the Nyalananga.
For all of their new crops, the single largest source of calories still comes from staple root crops. The red yam is their most important crop, as it has been for four millennia, and the murnong (yam daisy) is an important secondary crop. Whether baked, roasted, fried, boiled, steamed, grated, mashed or pounded into a paste-like porridge, the Gunnagal have long made root crops the basis of their cuisine.
Other root crops have spread along the trade routes in recent years, bringing new options for Gunnagal chefs. Lesser yams have spread from the tropical north. Contact with the Patjimunra on the east coast brought sweet potatoes, known by their Maori name of kumara, and which had ultimately originated in distant South America. From the western Atjuntja lands came two other root crops, the warran yam and the bush potato, long cultivated in the western lands, then adopted by the Islanders and then spread up the Nyalananga [10]. None of these crops gave yields as large as the red yam, and the sweet potato in particular required more labour since it needed irrigation and was an annual plant, unlike most native perennial crops. Still, they brought new flavours to the cuisine, and the royal family of Tjibarr have been noted consumers of sweet potato for the last few decades.
The other staple crop is wattles, the wealth-trees, the plants of multitudinous uses. Eight main species have been domesticated, with the Gunnagal domesticating the first three and in time acquiring most of the others from elsewhere [11]. The nature of Gunnagalic farming means that at least two species are usually cultivated in any given area, so Tjibarr farmers make use of a wide range of wattle crops. Cultivated wattles and their products have a myriad of uses: timber, dyes, adhesives, soil revitalisers, a source of bark-skin paper, mulch, tannins for leather, scents in perfumes, and many more.
However, from a culinary perspective, the main use for wattleseeds is the production of wattleseeds, with a secondary production of wattle gum. The different species of wattleseeds offer some differences in flavouring but are otherwise similar. Wattleseeds can be eaten whole like a cereal, but they are usually ground into flour. Wattleseed flour lacks gluten, and so it does not rise when baked, so it is most commonly cooked into a variety of flatbreads. Noodles are another common culinary practice for wattleseed flour, made by boiling the flour either alone or with duck or emu eggs. The first visiting Europeans who tasted these products called them black noodles, because of the distinctive dark colour of wattleseed flour. The Gunnagal also grow a few other crops which produce edible seeds, such as purslane, native flax, or spiny-headed mat-rush. These seeds are also ground into flour, and used either in combination with wattleseed flour for additional flavouring, or used as a substitute.
Besides staple crops, the Gunnagal grow many other plants as delicacies, nutritional supplements, or for non-food uses. Fruits and nuts are much favoured, and the Gunnagal have access to a variety of them. Many of these fruits were domesticated early in the history of Gunnagalic civilization, and are widespread in Tjibarr and elsewhere in the Five Rivers. The most commonly grown fruits are those which can be grown without irrigation: quandongs, desert limes, and native raspberries. Some other native fruits require irrigation and are thus either imported or grown as rare delicacies or for the social elite; the most notable of these are muntries, native passionfruit, and apple berry [12].
In recent times, the Gunnagal have domesticated some additional fruits to add to their cuisine. Australian boxthorn (Lycium australe) is a relative of the wolfberry or goji berry (L. barbarum and L. chinense) which was first domesticated in China. Australian boxthorn is a small, hardy shrub which produces small orange-red berries, and had long been collected by hunter-gatherer Aboriginal peoples. The early Gunnagal also collected the wild plants, sometimes for their fruit, but more often for using their leaves or root bark as part of traditional medicines for treating sore eyes, inflammations, and skin diseases. This process slowly led to the domestication of the plant.
The Gunnagal use cultivated Australian boxthorn for medicinal purpose, but they have discovered a much more pleasing use. The Gunnagal had long produced ganyu (yam wine) from fermenting yams and flavouring it with the juice of desert limes. Boxthorn fruit has a nut-like taste which neatly complemented the flavour of ganyu, and so now most of the fruit harvest goes for this purpose.
Another plant which the Gunnagal have recently domesticated is the bush pear (Marsdenia australis), a native vine which is widespread across the interior. It is most common in the more arid areas, away from the main farming civilizations, and thus was not domesticated early. It started to be cultivated during the unusual climatic conditions of the ninth and tenth centuries AD, when farming peoples moved into the Red Lands beyond the Anedeli [Darling] and became more familiar with some of the desert plants. Domesticated bush pears spread out from the Red Lands to the other farming peoples of the Five Rivers, including Tjibarr.
The bush pear is a drought-hardy vine of which almost all parts of the plant are edible. It produces a pear-shaped fruit with a great many seeds inside; the fruit pulp is sweet, and the edible seeds are reminiscent of peas. The leaves and stems of the plant are equally edible, and are collected and roasted whenever the vines are pruned. The flowers can be collected and cooked, with a taste that is reportedly like broccoli. The vine also produces an edible root tuber which the Gunnagal chefs collect and roast along with yams and murnong. The Gunnagal name for the bush pear translates – for very good reason – as “many vine.”
The settlement of the Red Lands also led to the domestication of the kutjera or desert raisin (Solanum centrale). A relative of tomatoes and tamarillo, this plant produces a small fruit with a strong, pungent taste. It is widespread across the arid regions of the continental interior. In the wild, it fruits prolifically in the year after fires or good rains. When farmers moved beyond the Anedeli, they discovered that they could mimic these effects by a little judicious irrigation. This led to the domestication of kutjera. The strong taste of the fruit means that it is commonly used as a condiment in sauces and dressings, and is only rarely eaten fresh [13].
Besides their new fruit crops, the Gunnagal in Tjibarr and elsewhere in the Five Rivers have also benefitted from the spread of two new nut crops. Macadamia trees are native to the higher rainfall areas of the eastern seaboard, and produce a nut which for a long time was wild-gathered as a favoured food. Over time, this led to the domestication of the macadamia amongst the ancestors of the Kiyungu [in coastal south-eastern Queensland]. Cultivation of the macadamia spread along the tin routes until it arrived in Tjibarr’s lands. However, growing of macadamias is on a small scale, since they require substantial irrigation. Macadamia nuts are only eaten by the social elite, since they control the limited supply [14].
The other nut crop which the Gunnagal sometimes use is unusual in that it has not, strictly speaking, been domesticated. The bunya tree (Araucaria bidwillii) is a conifer which produces very large cones full of edible nuts, similar to pine nuts, which can be eaten raw or roasted, or ground into flour and cooked into bread. The bunya is erratic in both its germination and in its seed production; cones are not formed every year. To hunter-gatherer peoples, the intermittent fruiting of the bunya tree (usually every third year) was a sacred occasion. Disputes were halted by truce and runners carried message sticks from band to band, leading to great gatherings (corroborees) where many peoples came together to feast on the abundant harvest. The bunya tree itself was regarded as sacred.
The veneration of the bunya tree was one belief which withstood the tide of the Great Migrations. When Gunnagalic farmers first entered regions where the bunya trees grew, they acquired the same view of the tree as sacred. Since they were already growing their own food, the fruiting of the bunya no longer brought about the same gathering of people, but it was still regarded as a time where disputes should be put aside. Sacred bunya trees also spread south along the tin routes, even to the drier regions where they required irrigation to grow. The trees have not changed in any significant way from their wild ancestors, and are thus not truly domesticated, but they are still cultivated widely. Amongst the Gunnagal in Tjibarr, the fruiting of the bunya trees is a time of truce amongst the factions, when disputes are set aside and the bunya nuts are handed out freely for all to consume. The tree itself is also revered; it is considered extremely poor manners to have any arguments or violence while close to a bunya tree.
Gunnagal cuisine also incorporates a range of other plants which have some nutritional or taste benefits. They have a variety of crops which are grown partly or primarily as leaf vegetables; warrigal greens, purslane, and scrub nettles are among the most common. Native flax is grown both for its edible seeds and as a source of fibre crop. Several thousand years of selective breeding means that some varieties of native flax now have very large seeds. These are often pressed to extract a form of linseed oil which is used in cooking. They grow beefsteak fungus and several species of mushrooms, which are carefully cultivated on mulches of wattle timber and leaves enriched with emu manure.
Of all the plant products available to the Gunnagal, though, none are more treasured than those which are used as drugs or spices. The most basic spice is a sweetener, wattle gum. One of the many uses of this gum is to dissolve it in water and use it to sweeten drinks or as part of sauces and dressings on food. Wattle gum is relatively cheap to obtain. It is tapped from wattles by cutting notches into the bark once the summer heat has faded, and returning a few weeks later to collect the large lumps of gum which exude from the notches.
The Gunnagal use a variety of herbs and spices as part of their cuisine. Some are grown locally in dryland agriculture or through irrigation, while others are imported along the trade routes from north, east or south. Many of the locally-grown spices have been modified by thousands of years of selective breeding into much stronger, more consistent flavours than their wild ancestors.
The most commonly used local spices are river mint, mintbushes, and pepperbushes, which are all easily cultivatable using dryland agriculture or light irrigation [15]. Eucalyptus leaves from several species of local gum trees are also used to flavour food; the most commonly cultivated species are blue-leaved mallee (Eucalyptus polybractea) and peppermint gum (E. dives). Sea celery, a close relative of common celery, is grown as a herb and condiment. Lemon-scented grass (Cymbopogon ambiguus) is used as a herb in cooking [like common lemon grass], and is also used to make a lemony tea.
Some spices which were originally native to the eastern coast are now grown in considerable quantities in Gunnagal lands. Native ginger (Alpinia caerulea) is a shrub whose berries, leaf tips and roots produce subtly different gingery flavours. Gunnagal chefs choose which sort of ginger to use depending on their preferences, and their general attitude is that no good roast is complete without being flavoured by some form of native ginger. The roots, shoots and berries of sweet sarsaparilla (Smilax glyciphylla) are also used by Gunnagal chefs to flavour drinks and soups. As well as being a seasoning, sweet sarsaparilla is an important element of Gunnagal medicine.
The most valuable spices are those which are too difficult to grow in the dry, occasionally frost-prone lands along the Nyalananga. These spices the Gunnagal need to import from elsewhere, usually from the damper areas in the eastern mountains or even the eastern seaboard. The overland spice routes are ancient, with some of them having been used for two millennia. Some of these spices routes have been partly replaced by seaborne trade on Nangu ships, but many of the spices grow best in more northerly regions where the Nangu do not visit. The two most important areas of spice production are the Daluming kingdom [around Coffs Harbour] and in Patjimunra lands [Hunter Valley].
Of the spices imported from the east coast, the greatest quantity and the greatest prices are both commanded by myrtles. These are several species of trees whose leaves contain distinctive flavours. On the eastern coast these leaves are normally used fresh, but they are also easily dried and traded overland. Lemon myrtle (Backhousia citriodora) is the most common, with a sweet blended flavour which the social elites in Tjibarr consider as superior to any lemon-flavoured alternatives [16]. Aniseed myrtle (Syzygium anisatum), cinnamon myrtle (Backhousia myrtifolia) and curry myrtle (B. angustifolia) also have highly-valued flavours, and are traded over the mountains in considerable volume. Apart from myrtles, the other main spice is the strawberry gum (Eucalyptus olida), whose leaves are dried and used for similar purposes as a sweet spice [17].
Apart from their many spices, the plants most important to the Gunnagal are those which are used to make their main drug, pituri. By far the preferred plant for this purpose is corkwood. For centuries Garrkimang had an effective monopoly on corkwood production, but it has now spread throughout the Five Rivers, including to Tjibarr. Pituri is a nicotine-rich drug formed by mixing corkwood (or a substitute) with wood ash from wattle trees, and which is then chewed [18]. It acts as a stimulant, creating a sense of wellbeing, and in mild doses it can suppress hunger and thirst. In particularly strong doses, pituri can act as a sedative or a hallucinogen.
Those Gunnagal who cannot afford pituri have to rely on the old standby of alcohol. The most expensive form is gum cider, which needs to be imported from the Cider Isle [Tasmania]. This is rare and expensive in Tjibarr, and virtually unavailable further upriver. The best locally-produced form of alcohol is ganyu, a form of yam wine mixed with other fruit flavourings such as desert limes or boxthorn fruit. For those who cannot afford ganyu, the alternative is a kind of yam beer which has only a weak alcohol concentration. The Gunnagal do not have access to distilled spirits; knowledge of distillation is still restricted to doctors and perfume-makers.
In terms of meat and animal products in their cuisine, the Gunnagal at Tjibarr and elsewhere in the Five Rivers have not changed much since their early ancestors. They still maintain artificial wetlands as a source of fish and waterbirds. Their key domesticated animals for meat are emus and ducks, with dogs an occasional delicacy. Duck and emu eggs are used in their cuisine almost as much as the meat of those animals. However, they have not yet obtained the domesticated geese which are used by some peoples on the Cider Isle and other south-eastern regions.
* * *
For more than two thousand years, the Gunnagal and their ancestors have used a perennial system of agriculture. Cyclical experience with droughts and loss of soil fertility taught them the importance of systems which could replenish the land, and which could prepare for downturns. Sometimes this involved crop rotation or companion planting. Sometimes it involved developing methods of food storage which would last for a decade or more [19]. Sometimes it meant selection of crop species which could survive the trials of occasional drought, flooding, or bushfires.
All of these practices had one factor in common: they required the Gunnagal to think about the longer term. These agricultural requirements have contributed to the broader development of a long-term mindset amongst the Gunnagal, both in terms of government planning and individual decision-making. They are not conservationists in any modern sense of the word; they still see the natural world as something to be exploited. Still, they do think in terms of what an action will mean, not just for today, but for the future. They also are more alert to gradual shifts in climate, in soil fertility, or other developments.
For instance, in their creation and maintenance of artificial wetlands, and their designation of royal hunting grounds, Gunnagal government and faction planners think in terms of sustainability. Catches of waterfowl and fish are subject to quotas, and only chosen hunters are allowed to catch kangaroos in designated hunting areas.
When it comes to planting and maintaining forests, the Gunnagal adopt a longer term view. They can obtain plenty of small-scale timber from their planting of wattles, but their main domesticated wattles do not grow tall enough to supply really large logs. For this, and for other tree-related products, the Gunnagal have turned to plantation systems, coppicing, and managed woodlands. They maintain plantations of a number of fast-growing eucalypts such as blue gums, which they cut down every ten or fifteen years, and then leave to regrow. This gives them a useful source of larger timber for construction, boat-building, and other purposes.
In other woodlands, the Gunnagal also think in terms of managing environment for more thorough exploitation. They will selectively burn or uproot weed species in favour of plants which they find more useful. They sometimes make small clearings to allow favoured understorey plants to appear, particularly those which produce seasonal fruits or other flavoursome products. These plants are not domesticated as such, but the Gunnagal still rely on gathering their products [20]. Anywhere near where the Gunnagal live, no area is truly a wilderness, even if it only rarely has people in it.
Some of the trees which are planted and managed in this format are not used for timber, but for more valuable products. The Gunnagal around Tjibarr have developed substantial plantations of black and white cypress pines, two relatively drought-tolerant conifers native to their homeland [21]. The cypress pines are eventually harvested for high-quality timber, but throughout their lives, they are tapped as a source of resin. The Gunnagal use this resin for many purposes, such as a varnish and adhesive, for soap-making, an ingredient in ink, and as a component of incense.
Their most valuable use of resin, however, comes from the application of another Gunnagal discovery: distillation. Gunnagal chemists have learned how to distil resin and other plant products to produce essential oils. The main use of these distilled products comes from the production of perfumes. While several peoples across the continent manufacture perfumes from crushed herbs and plant products, only the Gunnagal know how to distil resin, flowers, and leaves to obtain more concentrated fragrances.
Gunnagal perfume makers use a variety of blends of distilled resins, flowers (especially wattles), and other aromatic parts of plants to produce a diverse range of perfumes. These scented products are sometimes used for religious purposes, and are also a significant part of Tjibarr’s exports. The most expensive of all perfumes are those made using a form of musk. Gunnagal perfume makers collect this product from the musk duck, a bird which frequents their artificial wetlands. The rights of harvesting musk ducks are one of the most contentious of economic issues that the factions argue over; musk is the most expensive animal-based product on the continent. The complex, earthy fragrances of musk-based perfumes are the most highly-favoured scent on the continent [22].
* * *
In 1618, as the isolation of the island continent comes to an end, all of its inhabitants will face immense challenges. Contact with the outside world, with its new technologies, faiths, diseases and ideas, will change the fate of the island continent. Still, of all of the peoples who cultivate yams and wattles, the Gunnagal are perhaps the most fortunate. With their immense curiosity, ruthless exploitation of any possible advantages, and mindfulness of the longer term, the Gunnagal are the best-placed to exploit the threats and opportunities which they will encounter in the decades ahead...
* * *
[1] The Copper Coast is the name which the Gunnagal use for the fertile regions in contemporary south-eastern South Australia, stretching from the Murray Mouth to Port Augusta. In contemporary Australia, this region holds most of South Australia’s population and agriculture. The Gunnagal call it the Copper Coast for reasons of historical memory; it was the most important ancient source of copper. While the metal is still mined there, it has become less important since the Gunnagal learned the arts of ironworking; iron is mined both in the Copper Coast (some small deposits) and in other locations throughout Tjibarr’s territory.
[2] The factions have preserved the old colour names: gray, white, black, gold, blue (i.e. medium and dark blue), azure (light blue), green and red. Aside from some occasional decorative motifs, they have lost the connection with the ‘totems’ which their ancestors used.
[3] If the Gunnagal were medieval Christians, they would not just argue over how many angels could fit on the head of a pin, but what their names were, what they were wearing, and which direction the pin was pointing.
[4] Or chain mail, as it is sometimes anachronistically called.
[5] A similar system was used in ancient Egypt, although through the temples rather than any equivalent of the factions.
[6] Historical Aboriginal peoples drew a similar distinction between physical and spiritual illnesses.
[7] Sweet sarsaparilla (Smilax glyciphylla) is a close relative of Jamaican sarsaparilla (S. regelii). The Jamaican plant has been used as a flavouring and medicine in much of the world, and the Australian version has similar properties. Sweet sarsaparilla is native to the east coast, but it is easily cultivatable over a wide range of habitats. (In contemporary Australia, it is mostly used as an ornamental plant.) It was an important component of traditional Aboriginal medicine, and used for medicinal purposes in early colonial days. It was also one of the first native Australian plants to be exported in quantity; for a time in the nineteenth century, it was exported to China for use in traditional medicine there. Sources differ as to how much medical benefit sweet sarsaparilla has. It can definitely prevent scurvy, and it seems to reduce inflammations, but the other uses it was put to may just have been the placebo effect in action.
[8] This species of corkwood (Duboisia myoporoides) is commercially grown today as a source of several alkaloids used to make modern pharmaceutical products. In addition to the uses listed above, it can also be used to treat motion sickness and in various psychiatric uses, such as a rapid-onset sedative or to alleviate Parkinson’s disease.
[9] Ti trees were an important component of traditional Aboriginal medicine. Today, the commercial extraction of ti tree oil from plantations has become a significant industry. While there are some extravagant claims made for the benefits of ti tree oil, its use as an antiseptic and antifungal agent is much more well-documented. The ti tree oil which the Gunnagal use comes from a species called the narrow-leaved paperbark (Melaleuca linariifolia). This is a different species to the main source of commercial ti tree oil today (M. alternifolia), but the properties of the oil are more or less identical.
[10] The lesser yam (Dioscorea angustus) is a hybrid of red yams with another native yam species, the long yam (D. transversa). It needs somewhat higher rainfall and/or irrigation and produces smaller yields than red yams, and is thus a secondary crop. (It is more important in the north, since unlike red yams, it can grow in the tropics.) Warran yams (D. hastifolia) are another native yam species which can be grown in areas of moderate rainfall. “Bush potato” is a name which has been applied to several Australian plants. The one referred to here is Platysace deflexa, which is unrelated to yams but which has quite a distinctive sweet taste.
[11] The various kinds of domesticated wattles differ in their productivity for seeds, the time of flowering (early or late), how much wattle gum and/or tannins they produce, and their rainfall requirements. The most important wattle crop throughout most of *Australia is the bramble wattle (Acacia victoriae), although the sallow wattle (A. longifolia) is more intensively grown in the higher-rainfall areas along the eastern seaboard and in Aotearoa.
[12] All of the fruits listed here are plants which have domesticated or otherwise cultivated in contemporary Australia. In particular, quandong (Santalum acuminatum) is commercially cultivated on an increasing scale. Australia has several native species of passionfruit; the one described here is Passiflora herbertiana.
[13] Kutjera (Solanum centrale) is one of several native Australian plants which are called bush tomatoes. It is cultivated in contemporary Australia in a similar manner to that described here. Small-scale irrigation means that the plant can be induced to produce fruit for up to eight months of the year. This does not need to be a large volume of water; being a drought-adapted plant, the kutjera in fact does not respond well to excessive watering.
[14] Macadamias are the most widespread domesticated native crop in contemporary Australia. The modern crop is mostly a hybrid of two macadamia species (Macadamia integrifolia and M. tetraphylla). The allohistorical crop is derived solely from M. tetraphylla; this was the more widespread plant and was thus domesticated.
[15] River mint (Mentha australis) is a true mint, with a flavour reminiscent of peppermint. Mintbushes, also called native thyme, are restricted to Australia. While their flavour is somewhat akin to true mints, they are nevertheless a distinct taste. The main cultivated mintbush is the roundleaf mintbush (Prostanthera rotundifolia), although several other mintbushes in the Prostanthera genus are also exploited as spices. Several species of pepperbushes are grown in Gunnagal lands, each with their own distinctive tastes. Mountain pepper (Tasmannia lanceolata) is the most common, although the higher water demanding Dorigo peppers (T. stipitata) are also popular. The rarest and most expensive form is purple pepperbush (T. purpurascens), which has the strongest taste. This was native to a small area in the Patjimunra lands [Hunter Valley], but has been cultivated and spread west along the trade routes. All of these pepperbushes require some additional water to support them during drought times. This is commonly collected rainwater or well water used to grow the plants in small gardens, although there is some larger-scale cultivation using irrigation.
[16] Australia has several cultivatable plants which produce lemony flavourings. As well as lemon myrtle and lemon-scented grass, there are also two species called lemon-scented tea trees (Leptospermum petersonii and L. liversidgei) which can be used to make a lemon-flavoured tea. All of these are cultivated on the eastern coast, where tea from lemon-scented tea trees has become a cultural icon. However, to peoples in the Five Rivers, lemon-scented tea has never held much interest, and lemon myrtle is considered superior as a flavouring, so it is the only one traded across the mountains.
[17] All of these plants (except for curry myrtle) are commercially grown as spices in contemporary Australia, although lemon myrtle is by far the most common.
[18] Australia has a surprising variety of plants which have nicotine. Aside from corkwood, there are also various native tobacco plants in the Nicotiana genus (relatives of domesticated tobacco), and a range of other species which produce nicotine. Pituri can be made from any of those plants (and was done so in historical Australia), but corkwood (Duboisia hopwoodii) was the preferred species whenever it was available, since it has the highest nicotine content.
[19] The Gunnagal are fortunate in that their main long-term food storage is of wattleseeds. These seeds naturally have thick, impervious coats which allow them to survive in soil for a very long time. In the wild, wattleseeds usually rest in the soil and do not germinate until a fire goes through an area. This means that wattleseeds need to remain viable for over a decade; in some species, they can remain viable for up to fifty years. Luckily for the Gunnagal, this means that stored wattleseeds can keep for a very long time if they are simply sealed in an airtight container or room.
[20] This approach is in some ways similar – although more extensive - to what happened in parts of medieval Europe and elsewhere in the world. In medieval Europe, a lot of fruit-bearing plants such as raspberries and blackberries were not yet domesticated, but woodlands were managed in ways which encouraged their growth, and gathering of wild berries produced considerable harvests. Likewise, coppicing of trees was a useful source of timber.
[21] The black cypress pine (Callitris endlicheri) and white cypress pine (C. columellaris or C. glaucophylla, depending who you ask) are native Australian conifers which grow reasonably well even in drought-prone areas. The white cypress pine, in particular, has flourished since European arrival. The distilled oil from these pines is used today as a basis of perfumes and other products.
[22] Musk was until recently an extremely valuable product harvested from various animals in Eurasia, particularly the musk deer. (In allohistorical Australia, the musk duck (Biziura lobata) – a bird endemic to wetlands in the south-eastern part of the continent – will be a similarly-prized animal for the fragrance it yields.) Until the development of synthetic musk, the collection of musk from musk deer produced what was one of the most expensive products in the world; by weight, it was sometimes worth more than twice as much as gold.
* * *
Thoughts?
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One of the downsides of following a TL with such a wealth of detail and fantastic imagery is that you quite frequently find yourself unable to adequately express how great you think it is in your comments...
I really like this series of *Aboriginal nation profiles. Heck, I like the whole TL, though Tjibarr is probably my favourite so far. A sport-obsessed, clannish populace with a habit of arguing and a desire to always get the first word in, centred on a city with an economy dependent on the river and antagonism towards those who live to the south? It's like you're describing my home!
(Okay, the comparison of Tjibarr to Liverpool is purely facetious, but I am greatly enjoying it so far. I'd say 'keep up the good work', but it'd sound horribly condescending, so I'll stick with the tried and tested - I look forward to more!)[/ramble]
I really like this series of *Aboriginal nation profiles. Heck, I like the whole TL, though Tjibarr is probably my favourite so far. A sport-obsessed, clannish populace with a habit of arguing and a desire to always get the first word in, centred on a city with an economy dependent on the river and antagonism towards those who live to the south? It's like you're describing my home!
(Okay, the comparison of Tjibarr to Liverpool is purely facetious, but I am greatly enjoying it so far. I'd say 'keep up the good work', but it'd sound horribly condescending, so I'll stick with the tried and tested - I look forward to more!)[/ramble]
I can see it now.
"After the movie why not enjoy some fine Gunnagal cuisine at The Star of Tjibarr restaurant. Just five minutes from this theater".
"After the movie why not enjoy some fine Gunnagal cuisine at The Star of Tjibarr restaurant. Just five minutes from this theater".
Hey Jared; have you thought of getting this stuff published? You certainly have a great talent for writing and you've already come up with a heap of material, if you turned this TL into a novel or two I know I'd buy it.
The Sandman
Banned
Another excellent update, Jared!
I think that the contrast between the Gunnagal love for examining and adapting/adopting new things and their societal tendency towards long-term planning should make for some interesting situations as they try to digest the sudden influx of outside knowledge.
One minor thing I'm wondering about, since I don't think it's come up before, is the state of glassmaking in *Australia, both in terms of complexity and usage.
And, as long as we seem to have ended up on the topic of Tjibarr-style takeout in TTL's future, what do most *Aborigines use to eat their food? Fingers? Flatbread, Indian or Ethiopian style? Forks and knives? Chopsticks? Something unknown in OTL? It's not at all important, admittedly, but for some reason I'm just curious.
I think that the contrast between the Gunnagal love for examining and adapting/adopting new things and their societal tendency towards long-term planning should make for some interesting situations as they try to digest the sudden influx of outside knowledge.
One minor thing I'm wondering about, since I don't think it's come up before, is the state of glassmaking in *Australia, both in terms of complexity and usage.
And, as long as we seem to have ended up on the topic of Tjibarr-style takeout in TTL's future, what do most *Aborigines use to eat their food? Fingers? Flatbread, Indian or Ethiopian style? Forks and knives? Chopsticks? Something unknown in OTL? It's not at all important, admittedly, but for some reason I'm just curious.
Indeed, yet another good and very informative update.
Can't wait to see what happens when the Europeans turn up!
Can't wait to see what happens when the Europeans turn up!
The picture in my head is that, like in mediaeval Europe, they eat with their hands and use knives to cut when necessary. Though as they have flatbreads, could they use these as platebreads and dishbreads? and have edible leaves with their condiments on?
As long as a certain check clears and a certain tape disappears, that is...
Cheques are so twentieth-century. E-money is the way to go...
Yes and no. The advantage that Old World peoples have is that exposure to some epidemic diseases while growing up means that their adaptive immune system is overall stronger, which means that they are more resistant to all diseases.
In 1492, there were no Amerindian peoples who had had exposure to epidemic diseases, so they were all quite vulnerable. By ~1630, when they are likely to face Australian diseases, then many Amerindian peoples will have already been exposed to a century or so of Eurasian epidemics. Those Amerindian peoples who have had such exposure won't yet have developed full natural resistance to Eurasian diseases (although they will be close), but they will have had enough exposure to epidemic diseases in general to have stronger adaptive immune systems.
This means that those Amerindian populations with a combination of high population density and century-long exposure to Eurasian diseases will be as resistant as Europeans to the new Australian epidemics. Essentially, this means Mesoamerica and the Andean peoples will be as resistant as Europeans. The populations in other areas of the Americas - the Argentine pampas, much of Amazonia, and essentially all of North America north of the OTL Mexican border - will be hit harder.
In the case of Mesoamerica and the Andes, no. The Amerindian-descended population will be similar or a somewhat higher proportion than in OTL.
In other areas, it depends how long European colonisation is delayed, and whether it produces a lower population transfer. I'm still not sure of that myself. The Old World is going to take a total population hit of somewhere between 18-20%. That is going to have massive effects. I'm not yet sure how long it will delay major European colonisation, but I'd say it will certainly slow things down.
Hey, swap south for north and I could also be describing Melbourne. (Duck.)
Merci. More will be coming, but to be honest I don't know if I'll manage to write another post as long as this one. It's taken me quite a while...
They are in a much better position to resist European colonisation than the Amerindians. They are more technologically advanced, the sailing distance is a lot longer, and they have epidemic diseases of their own. Whether that will be enough in the long run, well... time will tell.
Into twelve "hours" which are about two of our hours long; they count from sunrise to sunrise. These "hours" are then further into twelve subunits which are about 10 minutes long. It gets complicated because they actually calibrate their clocks each sunrise. Since the actual time of sunrise moves each day, of course, that means that they are resetting their clocks each day. This leads to many arguments, of course, but what else can you expect in a people who are keen to get in both the first and the last word?
For practical purposes, though, they have their 120-minute "hours", a 10-minute period which has no real equivalent in our time scale, and a theoretical "minute" of 50 seconds. Their clocks aren't actually accurate enough to do much good in measuring their "minute", but they still think in those terms.
I can see it now.
"After the movie why not enjoy some fine Gunnagal cuisine at The Star of Tjibarr restaurant. Just five minutes from this theater".
Just imagine what they will do when they get to combine beef and cheval with their native spices...
Thanks. The Euros will be throwing a few spanners in the works, but perhaps not in the way which people seem to have speculated about so far. We shall see...
10,000 words is a lot.
Well, yeah. It's two-thirds of the length of my whole freakin' Masters thesis, and that took me about a year to finish. At least this was a bit quicker...
In the long-term, I'll be looking to get stuff published set in the LoRaG universe. In the medium term, I'll be trying to finish a novel set in the DoDverse, rather than this one. In the short-term, the only things I'm likely to get published are academic and corporate publications, which are unfortunately keeping me busier and busier.
Oh, yes. They will do their best to take in everything and work out how best to turn it to their advantage. Whether that will be enough, well... At the very least, they are lucky that their heartland is not easily accessible to Europeans, since the *Murray Mouth is not navigable from the sea.
The best glassmakers are in the Daluming kingdom, who will be the subject of the next post (and the last before moving to the arrival of Europeans). As to how they use it, well, shall we say that for them, sand is a renewable resource.
Knives and fingers, mostly. They sometimes use old flatbread as plates, similar to what some other cultures have done, but not always. The Gunnagal sometimes use a sort of two-pronged fork to help them hold meat while they cut it, but food is usually conveyed to the mouth either on a knife blade or by fingers. Soups are usually sipped from bowls, rather than using spoons. Spoons are known, but they are mostly used only by the upper classes.
The picture in my head is that, like in mediaeval Europe, they eat with their hands and use knives to cut when necessary. Though as they have flatbreads, could they use these as platebreads and dishbreads? and have edible leaves with their condiments on?
They certainly can, both for flatbreads and edible leaves, although they do have a variety of other eating utensils.
Overall, very interesting update, Jared, very sophisticated culture pictured. I don't know any non-cereal-growing culture in OTL with comparable level of development, but you've convinced me that such culture could exist in *Australia due to its crops.
It reminds me factions of the Constantinople's circus... I wonder, would European explorers see similarity between Byzantine demes and Tjibarr kitjigals (after all, sailors weren't exactly men with classical education)? And (if they would) what would they make from this similarity? How would it influence European attitude to the Gunnagal? How could factional rivalry be used to destroy *Australian polity, or to defend it against European intrigues?
I guess, you meant 'one of the customs inherited from the Imperial days is that of the importance of the First Speaker'?
Bravo! Took me damneer forever to read through it, but well worth the effort!
I'm so Jonesing for Braised Emu with Pepperbush with a side of Pan-Fried Yams and Rivermint Warrigal Greens right now. With an appropriate ganyu, of course.
Yes, but e-money is so easily traceable, which is bad when you're in the business of Extor...err...Compelled Investment Strategies.
I'm so Jonesing for Braised Emu with Pepperbush with a side of Pan-Fried Yams and Rivermint Warrigal Greens right now. With an appropriate ganyu, of course.
Yes, but e-money is so easily traceable, which is bad when you're in the business of Extor...err...Compelled Investment Strategies.
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