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THE GIANT BIRD THAT WAS MUCH BIGGER THAN AN EMU

Around 45,000 years ago, Australia still had a bird that would make today’s emu look surprisingly small.

Genyornis newtoni stood roughly 2–2.25 metres tall and weighed around 220–240 kilograms.

That is roughly four to five times the mass of an average emu.

It was flightless.

Its wings were tiny.

Its legs were enormous and heavily muscled, ending in three large, hoof-like toes.

But Genyornis was not simply a gigantic emu.

It belonged to the extinct dromornithid family — the Australian “mihirungs” or thunder birds — which are now generally placed within or close to the duck-and-goose lineage rather than the ratites that include emus and ostriches.

Its skull was built differently too.

The lower jaw was exceptionally deep and heavily reinforced, while its beak lacked the hooked shape expected of a predator.

Evidence from eggshell chemistry and its anatomy supports an essentially herbivorous lifestyle.

Gastroliths — stones retained in the gizzard — also fit a plant-processing diet.

Genyornis occupied a changing Pleistocene Australia.

Its remains occur across parts of South Australia and New South Wales, including Lake Callabonna, Naracoorte, Cuddie Springs and other fossil localities.

Eggshells have also been recovered from ancient sand-dune systems, suggesting that some of these landscapes served as nesting areas.

Genyornis appears to have favoured relatively open environments such as open woodland and savannah-grassland.

Its extinction occurred during a period when Australia was becoming increasingly dry and ecosystems were changing.

But there is another extraordinary part of the evidence.

Humans and Genyornis overlapped in Australia.

Burnt Genyornis eggshell has been found at more than 200 locations across the continent.

Dating places these burnt eggshells mainly between about 53,900 and 43,400 years ago, with the strongest evidence pointing to human egg harvesting before roughly 47,000 years ago.

The burn patterns are not consistent with ordinary wildfire.

Researchers argue that people collected Genyornis eggs, cooked them using fires, and discarded the shells.

That provides direct evidence of interaction between humans and this giant bird.

Genyornis disappeared around the same broad period.

Exactly how much human predation contributed to its extinction remains part of the wider Australian megafauna debate, but the evidence shows that humans were exploiting its eggs before the species vanished.

So Genyornis was more than a giant prehistoric bird.

It was part of a Pleistocene ecosystem filled with animals that no longer exist.

And its eggshells preserve something remarkable:

THE MOMENT HUMANS AND AUSTRALIA'S GIANT BIRDS SHARED THE SAME LANDSCAPE.

THE FIRST AUSTRALIANS WHO CARRIED A COMPLETE TOOLKIT

At Madjedbebe, on Mirarr Country in northern Australia, people were already using a remarkably diverse technological toolkit around 65,000 years ago.

It was not a single “stone tool”.

It was a system.

CUTTING:
Sharp stone flakes and knives could be used for cutting and processing materials.

SCRAPING:
Scrapers formed part of the toolkit for working materials such as wood, plant matter and other resources.

GRINDING:
Ground-stone technology was used for processing plants, producing pigments, working stone and maintaining tools.

PIGMENT:
Ground ochre was processed into powder, providing evidence for sophisticated pigment technology at the site.

HAFTED TOOLS:
Ground-edge hatchets were shaped by flaking and grinding, then attached to wooden handles using fibre and resin.

PLANT PROCESSING:
Grinding stones were used to process seeds, hard and soft plant materials, leaves and underground plant parts.

ANIMAL PROCESSING:
A small number of grinding stones also preserve evidence consistent with processing animal material.

STONE WORKING:
Some grinding stones show traces consistent with striking, filing or working other stone.

This diversity matters.

The people living at Madjedbebe were not relying on one universal tool.

They were combining different technologies for different jobs — cutting, scraping, grinding, shaping, pigment production, woodworking and food processing.

Research on 104 grinding stones from the site found evidence for multiple functions. Across the larger assemblage, the researchers estimate about 563 grinding stones and fragments spanning the site's occupation.

Some grinding stones were multifunctional.

Others show more specialised use.

The earliest occupation also contained ground ochre, reflective materials and ground-edge hatchet heads.

And the technology continued to change.

Grinding-stone use at Madjedbebe extends across roughly 65,000 years, with different periods showing different patterns of plant processing, pigment preparation, animal-material processing and stone working.

So “complete toolkit” does not mean one fixed set of tools carried unchanged for 65,000 years.

It means something more interesting:

A technological system capable of combining different tools, materials and techniques to solve different problems.

STONE FLAKES.

SCRAPERS.

GRINDING STONES.

PIGMENTS.

GROUND-EDGE HATCHETS.

FIBRE.

RESIN.

WOOD.

PLANT PROCESSING.

This is one reason Madjedbebe is so important.

The archaeology reveals not just that people were here around 65,000 years ago.

It reveals people adapting technologies to their environment — and continually changing how those technologies were used.

The first Australians arrived with technology.

And at Madjedbebe, the archaeological record shows just how diverse that technology already was.

THE AXES THAT WERE MADE THOUSANDS OF YEARS BEFORE THEY APPEARED ELSEWHERE

Around 65,000 years ago, people at Madjedbebe in northern Australia were already making ground-edge stone axes.

The technology was remarkably sophisticated.

A suitable stone was first shaped by removing flakes.

Then the roughly formed tool was ground against another stone.

Hours of grinding could produce a sharp, polished cutting edge.

This was different from simply striking flakes from a stone.

The cutting edge itself was deliberately manufactured and refined.

At Madjedbebe, archaeological evidence includes complete or near-complete edge-ground hatchets, grinding stones used to manufacture and maintain them, and numerous flakes removed during shaping and sharpening.

Some were hafted.

Stone heads could be attached to wooden handles using fibre and resin — resin functioning as an adhesive.

The result was a reusable woodworking tool.

Publicly shared Mirarr knowledge recorded by ABC Deep Time describes these axes being used to cut bark and wood and to shape wooden tools.

They could also be used to extract sugarbag — native bee honey — from trees.

The technology was therefore not just about making a sharper stone.

It combined:

STONE

+ GRINDING

+ HAFTING

+ FIBRE

+ RESIN

+ WOODWORKING KNOWLEDGE

At the time of the 2017 discovery, the Madjedbebe ground-edge hatchets were described as the world's oldest known examples of this technology.

Later research identified evidence for the manufacture and maintenance of edge-ground hatchets at the site and concluded that this technology was already established during the earliest occupation.

That is extraordinary because ground-edge axes appear much later in the archaeological records of other regions.

In southeastern Australia, for example, ground-edged axes appear archaeologically around 4,500 years ago.

So the Australian story is not simply:

“People invented axes 65,000 years ago.”

It is more precise.

People at Madjedbebe were using a sophisticated ground-edge axe technology extremely early, and the technology appears much earlier there than in many later archaeological records elsewhere.

The important lesson is technological.

A stone axe could be engineered.

Its edge could be shaped.

Its surface could be ground.

Its head could be hafted.

Its materials could be combined.

And the tool could be maintained and reused.

The technology was ancient.

The engineering was deliberate.

THE AUSTRALIAN CAVE THAT PRESERVED 65,000 YEARS OF TECHNOLOGY

Madjedbebe is not simply an old archaeological site.

It preserves evidence of people using a surprisingly diverse technological toolkit from around 65,000 years ago.

The rock shelter sits on Mirarr Country in northern Australia.

Among the earliest finds are ground-edge stone hatchets, grinding stones, stone flakes, ochre and reflective mineral pigments.

The technology was not one single invention.

It was a toolkit.

AXES FOR WORKING WOOD.

FLAKES FOR CUTTING AND SCRAPING.

GRINDING STONES FOR PROCESSING PLANTS.

OCHRE FOR PIGMENT.

OTHER STONE TOOLS FOR DIFFERENT TASKS.

Later analysis of the grinding-stone assemblage has revealed just how diverse these tools were.

Researchers identified evidence for processing seeds, nuts, tubers, roots, leaves and other plant materials.

Some stones were also used to process pigments.

Others show evidence of stone-working.

And some tools were multifunctional.

Madjedbebe also preserves evidence for plant foods between approximately 65,000 and 53,000 years ago, including foods that required substantial processing before they could be eaten.

This matters because it shows that the first people living in Sahul were not simply surviving on whatever was easiest to collect.

They were using knowledge-intensive technologies to widen the range of foods they could exploit.

The axes are equally significant.

The 2017 research identified ground-edge hatchets at Madjedbebe dating to the earliest occupation, making them the earliest known evidence of this technology at the time of publication.

The tools were made by shaping stone and grinding an edge.

Some were hafted using fibre and resin.

And the technology continued to change through later occupation.

This is where the site's cultural significance becomes especially important.

Madjedbebe is on Mirarr Country.

The site has been used continuously as a home for at least 65,000 years according to the publicly shared ABC Deep Time account, and today it remains cared for by Mirarr Traditional Owners.

Archaeology therefore records an extraordinary technological sequence.

But for Mirarr people, this is not simply “deep history”.

It is Country.

The tools are evidence of an ancient technological tradition — and the place remains part of a living cultural connection.

65,000 years of archaeology does not mean every individual technology stayed unchanged.

It means people repeatedly adapted, invented, maintained and transformed their technologies while remaining connected to Country.

That may be the most remarkable technology of all.

THE FISHING TECHNOLOGY THAT CHANGED ALONG THE NSW COAST

Around 900 years ago, a new fishing technology appears in the archaeological record of eastern Australia:

THE SHELL FISHHOOK.

Along the NSW coast from Port Stephens south toward the NSW–Victoria border, archaeologists find evidence of C- and J-shaped hooks made from marine shell.

At Kurnell in Botany Bay, modified turban shells were excavated from a midden.

They show the manufacturing process itself.

SHELL
→
BLANK
→
GRIND
→
PERFORATE
→
SHAPE
→
HOOK

The shell was cut into an oval blank.

Its outer surface was ground against a stone.

A hole was made through the centre, creating a ring.

Part of that ring was then removed and the remaining shell shaped into a hook.

The edges were smoothed and a notch was made for attaching the line.

The finished hook was small — typically only centimetres long — but it represented a significant technological change.

It worked as part of a complete fishing system:

SHELL HOOK
+
FIBRE LINE
+
STONE SINKER
+
CANOE
=
HOOK-AND-LINE FISHING

The archaeological record is especially interesting because fishing itself was not new.

Aboriginal people along the NSW coast already used other fishing technologies, including multi-pronged spears.

In historic Sydney, men and women also used different fishing equipment.

The appearance of shell hooks therefore does not mean people suddenly discovered fishing.

It means an additional technology entered the coastal fishing system.

Archaeologist Val Attenbrow has argued that the introduction of shell hooks may have produced substantial changes in fishing and food-gathering patterns.

Exactly where the technology originated remains unresolved.

Researchers have proposed independent invention in southeastern Australia or introduction from elsewhere.

The archaeological evidence tells us WHEN the technology appears.

It does not, by itself, tell us exactly WHY it appeared.

That distinction matters.

A tiny shell hook can therefore reveal something much larger:

Technologies change.

Fishing systems adapt.

And Aboriginal coastal economies were not static — they continued to develop over thousands of years.

THE WHALE THAT BECAME A VESSEL IN DHARAWAL KNOWLEDGE

In a Dharawal story publicly shared by Knowledge Holder Raymond Ingrey, a whale was more than an animal.

Burriburri was a powerful ancestral figure whose story connects people, the sea, islands and movement along the coast.

The story tells of people living on a distant land called ngarawan who needed to find better hunting grounds.

Their small canoes could not safely make the journey.

There was only one vessel large enough to carry everyone.

It belonged to Whale.

In the story, Whale's large vessel becomes the means by which the people cross the sea.

The journey continues for days.

Koala keeps rowing.

Crane becomes associated with the vessel's journey.

Eventually the travellers reach new land, and the vessel is pushed back into the sea.

It becomes a large island called gangmangang, identified with Windang Island near Lake Illawarra.

The story then explains the coastline itself.

Raymond Ingrey describes Burriburri and his ancestors as continuing to search for their vessel, moving up and down the coastline.

The islands, harbours and bays stretching from Sydney Harbour toward the Shoalhaven become part of that living geography.

This is why the story is not simply about a whale.

It connects movement, Country and Sea Country.

A whale becomes a vessel.

A vessel becomes an island.

An island becomes part of a coastline.

And the coastline becomes a map carried through cultural knowledge.

A large Dharawal whale engraving at La Perouse — more than 10 metres long — is another physical reminder of Burriburri's significance in this cultural landscape.

The story is publicly shared knowledge, not a scientific explanation for how the islands physically formed.

Its importance lies in the way Dharawal knowledge connects people, ancestral beings, places and movement across Country.

The sea was not an empty space between destinations.

It was part of the Country through which people travelled.

THE DHARAWAL PEOPLE WHO BUILT THEIR LIFE AROUND THE SEA

For the Dharawal peoples of the Sydney region, the coast was not simply a boundary between land and water.

Gamay — Botany Bay — was a productive Country where fishing, shellfish gathering, swimming, boating and access to marine resources were part of everyday life.

Historical records describe Aboriginal people around Kamay/Gamay using canoes and fishing from the water.

At Kurnell, archaeological evidence includes shell fishing hooks made from turban shells. The hooks were manufactured through several stages: cutting shell blanks, grinding them, creating a central perforation, shaping the hook and finishing the edges.

The finished hook was attached to fibre line and used with a small stone sinker.

That technology depended on knowledge of the marine environment.

People needed to know where fish were found, how to reach productive waters and how to make the equipment required to catch them.

But fishing was only one part of the coastal food system.

Shellfish, fish and other marine resources were available across the bay, while coastal plants, freshwater environments and terrestrial animals added other sources of food.

The importance of the marine environment is also visible today.

Gamay Rangers and marine scientists have documented major changes to Botany Bay's seagrass ecosystem, including substantial loss of seagrass habitat.

For contemporary Aboriginal custodians, that ecological change is also cultural change.

When marine habitats decline, culturally significant food species can decline with them.

That affects not only biodiversity, but access to practices and knowledge associated with Sea Country.

So “life around the sea” does not mean people simply lived beside the water.

It means the water itself was part of Country.

The fish.

The shellfish.

The seagrass.

The canoes.

The fishing technology.

The knowledge of seasons and places.

And the responsibilities that connected people with the marine environment.

Gamay was not just a coastline.

It was Sea Country.

THE FOOD TECHNOLOGY THAT REQUIRED PLANNING MONTHS AHEAD

A handful of grass seeds could become food.

But getting from grass to cooked flour required a chain of work.

At Cuddie Springs, archaeological evidence links grinding stones with seed processing roughly 30,000 years ago.

The technology began long before the grinding stone was used.

SEED HEADS HAD TO BE FOUND.

SEEDS HAD TO BE COLLECTED.

HUSKS HAD TO BE REMOVED.

THE CLEANED SEEDS HAD TO BE DRIED.

THEN THEY COULD BE GROUND.

The Australian Museum notes that separating seeds from husks and winnowing required considerable skill and practice.

Grinding itself was physically demanding.

One Australian Museum account estimates that grinding could take around two hours to produce about half a kilogram of flour.

The flour then had to be mixed with water and cooked.

That means plant food was not simply something people “picked and ate”.

It could involve harvesting, processing, equipment, labour, cooking and provisioning.

And the timing mattered.

At Cuddie Springs, publicly shared Yuwaalaraay and Gamilaroi Knowledge Holder Brenda McBride describes grass seeds being gathered according to seasonal conditions, with seeds collected when the grass flower was dying and the seeds were ready.

Some seeds were then separated from their husks and dried in the sun before grinding.

The final product could become widja — bread.

The archaeological evidence does not preserve every step of this process at one moment.

But together, archaeological grinding evidence and publicly shared Indigenous knowledge show why seed foods required planning and specialised processing.

A food system could begin months before the meal.

The harvest was seasonal.

The processing was skilled.

The grinding was hard work.

The cooking came last.

The meal was the final stage of a much longer technology.

WHY A 30-KILOGRAM GRINDSTONE COULD BE INFRASTRUCTURE

A 30-kilogram stone is not something you casually carry every time you move camp.

That is exactly why some Aboriginal grinding stones can tell us something much bigger than “people used rocks to grind food.”

Large grinding stones could become fixed equipment.

They could be quarried from suitable stone sources, shaped or selected for grinding, transported across Country and then left at places where people repeatedly returned.

In central Australia, ethnographic records describe people travelling to sandstone quarries in the Flinders Ranges to obtain slabs for grass-seed grinding.

Some of these grindstones were extremely heavy.

The stone itself could become part of the place.

A large grinding slab was therefore different from a small portable tool.

It could remain at a campsite while people travelled elsewhere, waiting for the next visit.

That creates an archaeological signal:

QUARRY
→
SELECT STONE
→
TRANSPORT
→
USE
→
MAINTAIN
→
LEAVE AT CAMP
→
RETURN

Research on Australian ground-stone technology shows that transport was an important constraint on large millstones, with weights approaching 30 kilograms.

Archaeologists can also investigate where the stone came from.

At Yambacoona Hill in south-eastern Australia, researchers documented hundreds of quarry pits together with grinding-stone blanks, hammerstones and manufacturing debris.

The quarry was about 120 kilometres from Cuddie Springs, where grinding stones occur in Pleistocene archaeological deposits.

That means the story is not simply about a finished stone.

It is about an entire technological system:

THE QUARRY.

THE MATERIAL.

THE TRANSPORT.

THE WORKING SURFACE.

THE FOOD PROCESSING.

THE CAMPSITE.

AND THE PEOPLE WHO RETURNED TO IT.

A heavy grindstone could therefore function like infrastructure.

Not because it was a building.

Because it was a durable piece of equipment embedded in a place and used repeatedly over time.

The stone stayed.

People could come back to it.

And archaeology can sometimes see those repeated decisions thousands of years later.

THE STONE THAT COULD BECOME FLOUR

At Cuddie Springs in western New South Wales, a stone could be part of a food-processing system more than 30,000 years old.

Archaeological excavations have recovered grinding-stone fragments from deposits dating to roughly 30,000–36,000 years ago.

These were not simply rocks.

Grinding stones could be used to crush seeds into fine particles, releasing starch that could then be cooked.

At Cuddie Springs, scientific analysis of use-wear and starch residues supports the interpretation that Aboriginal people were processing plant foods with grinding technology.

The likely raw materials included grass seeds.

Seeds had to be collected, separated from their husks, dried and then mechanically processed.

The grinding stone did the crucial transformation:

SEED → GRINDING → FLOUR → COOKING → FOOD

And that required more than knowing how to grind.

It required knowledge of which plants produced useful seeds, when those seeds were ready, how to process them and how to turn the resulting flour into edible food.

The Australian Museum notes that large grinding stones could remain at campsites because they were too heavy to move regularly, while smaller stones could be carried between places.

When a heavily used grinding surface became too smooth, it could be roughened again rather than simply discarded.

That is maintenance.

That is infrastructure.

And it changes how we understand ancient food systems.

A grinding stone was not the whole technology.

The technology included the stone, the plants, harvesting knowledge, processing skills, cooking and repeated use of places where food could be prepared.

Cuddie Springs therefore preserves more than an ancient tool.

It preserves evidence for a long-lived system of turning Australian plants into dependable food.

The stone was only the beginning.

The knowledge made it useful.