My powder burnt without noise, and the natives could never quite make out where the flame came from.
As there seemed to be a never-ending eagerness on the part of the blacks to witness the wonders of the white man, I even tried my hand at making ice--a commodity which is, of course, absolutely unknown in Central Australia.

The idea came to me one day when I found myself in a very cool cave, in which there was a well of surprisingly cold water.
Accordingly, I filled some opossum skins with the refreshing fluid, placed them in the coolest part of the cave, and then covered them with saltpetre, of which there was an abundance.

When I tell you that the experiment was quite fruitless, you will readily understand that I did not always succeed in my role of wonder-worker.

But whenever I was defeated, it only had the effect of making me set my wits to work to devise something still more wonderful--something which I was certain would be an assured success.
Whilst taking, a stroll in the region of my mountain home one day, my eyes--which were by this time almost as highly trained as those of the blacks themselves--suddenly fastened upon a thin stream of some greenish fluid which was apparently oozing out of the rocky ground.

Closer investigation proved that this was not water.