They seemed quite unfamiliar with the phenomenon, and it was apparently not one of those many things which their forefathers wove superstitious stories around, to hand down to their children.
As the great darkness continued, the natives retired to rest, without even holding the usual evening chant.I did not attempt to explain the real reason of the phenomenon, but as I had no particular end to serve, I did not tell them that it was due to my power.
Never once, you see, did I lose an opportunity of impressing the savages among whom I dwelt.On several occasions, having all the ingredients at my disposal, I attempted to make gunpowder, but truth to tell, my experiments were not attended with very great success.I had charcoal, saltpetre, and sulphur ready to my hand,--all obtainable from natural sources close by; but the result of all my efforts (and I tried mixing the ingredients in every conceivable way) was a very coarse kind of powder with practically no explosive force, but which would go off with an absurd "puff."Now I was very anxious to make an EXPLOSIVE powder, not merely because it would assist me in impressing the blacks, but also because I proposed carrying out certain blasting operations in order to obtain minerals and stones which I thought would be useful.The net result was that although I could not manufacture any potent explosive, yet I did succeed in arousing the intense curiosity of the blacks.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 Ifound 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.Icollected a quantity of it in a kangaroo skin, but this took a considerable time, because the liquid oozed very slowly.
I would not have taken this trouble were it not that I was pretty certain I HAD DISCOVERED A SPRING OF CRUDE PETROLEUM.Immediately, and by a kind of instinct, it occurred to me that I might make use of this oil as yet another means of impressing the blacks with my magical powers.I told no one of my discovery--not even Yamba.
First of all I constructed a sort of raft from the branches of trees, thoroughly saturating each branch with the oil.I also placed a shallow skin reservoir of oil on the upper end of the raft, and concealed it with twigs and leaves.This done, Ilaunched my interesting craft on the waters of the lagoon, having so far carried out all my preparations in the strictest secrecy.
When everything was ready I sent out invitations by mail-men, smoke signals, and message sticks to tribes both far and near, to come and see me SET FIRE TO THE WATER! In parentheses, I may remark, that with regard to smoke-signals, white smoke only is allowed to ascend in wreaths and curls; while black smoke is sent up in one great volume.As by this time my fame was pretty well established, the wonder-loving children of Nature lost no time in responding to the summons; and at length, when the mystic glow of a Central Australian evening had settled over the scene, a great gathering established itself on the shores of the lagoon.On such occasions, however, I always saw to it that my audience were not too near.
But anyhow there was little chance of failure, because the blacks had long since grown to believe in me blindly and implicitly.
With much ceremony I set fire to the raft, hoisted a little bark sail upon it, and pushed it off.It lay very low in the water, and as the amazed onlookers saw it gliding across the placid waters of the lagoon enveloped in smoke and flames, they did actually believe that I had set fire to the water itself--particularly when the blazing oil was seen in lurid patches on the placid surface.They remained watching till the fire died down, when they retired to their own homes, more convinced than ever that the white man among them was indeed a great and powerful spirit.
