The place where I met these blacks was a broken, stony, and hilly country, which, however, abounded in roots and snakes--especially snakes.

My hosts had evidently had a recent battue, or fire hunt, for they had a most extraordinary stock of food.

So completely had I won them over, that I actually hung up my bow and arrows along with their spears before retiring to rest.

The expression "hung up" may seem curious, so I hasten to explain that the natives tied up their spears in bunches and placed them on the scrub bushes.
Next morning I brought down a few hawks on the wing with my bow and arrows, and then the amazement of the natives was quite comical to witness.

Shooting arrows in a straight line astonished them somewhat, but the more bombastic among them would say, "Why I can do that," and taking his woomerah he would hurl a spear a long distance.