As we were tumbling the mingled rubbish on the floor, kicking it
with our feet, and groping for these written evidences of the past,
Sam, with a somewhat whitened face, produced a paper bag. "What's
this?" said he. It contained a granulated powder, something the
colour of Gregory's Mixture, but rosier; and as there were several
of the bags, and each more or less broken, the powder was spread
widely on the floor. Had any of us ever seen giant powder? No,
nobody had; and instantly there grew up in my mind a shadowy
belief, verging with every moment nearer to certitude, that I had
somewhere heard somebody describe it as just such a powder as the
one around us. I have learnt since that it is a substance not
unlike tallow, and is made up in rolls for all the world like
tallow candles.
Fanny, to add to our happiness, told us a story of a gentleman who
had camped one night, like ourselves, by a deserted mine. He was a
handy, thrifty fellow, and looked right and left for plunder, but
all he could lay his hands on was a can of oil. After dark he had
to see to the horses with a lantern; and not to miss an
opportunity, filled up his lamp from the oil can. Thus equipped,
he set forth into the forest. A little while after, his friends
heard a loud explosion; the mountain echoes bellowed, and then all
was still. On examination, the can proved to contain oil, with the
trifling addition of nitro-glycerine; but no research disclosed a
trace of either man or lantern.
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