Mate...be prepared for a surprise...Karl May tells us that "[Lord Lindsay] went to Australia on my advice to cross the continent on camels..."
In his works, May mentions having visited the island continent several times ...
Contemporary 'eye witness':
When Egon Erwin Kish visits Villa Shatterhand on the 9th May, 1910, Kisch describes the interior of May’s villa and among other things the decoration of the hallway (E.E.Kisch: "Hetzjagd durch die Zeit", Aufbau Taschenbuch Verlag Berlin 1994, p. 85).
“Die Diele betont allerwildestes Wildwest, betont Prairie und Indianerdorf. Mit Tigerfellen ist die Wand drapiert und mit dem Kopf eines Elentiers, Tomahawks und Bumerangs kreuzen sich, doppellaeufige Gewehre und vierschneidige Tigermesser, Lassos und Zaumzeug umschlingen Jagdtrophaen, Schirwans, Mocassins und alles Uebrige, was zur stilgemaessen Ausruestung eines ruhmreichen Trappers gehoert.”
"The hallway emphasizes the wildest of Wild West, emphasizes prairie and Indian village. The wall is draped with tiger skins and the head of an elk, tomahawks and boomerangs cross over each other, double-barreled rifles and four-edged tiger knives, lassos and horse bridles wrap around hunting trophies, oriental rugs, moccasins and anything else that is relevant to the equipment of a famous trapper."
... and did you know that there are six boomerangs in the Karl May Museum? That Karl May connection couldn't be more Australian.
Karl May has never been out of print in more than 130 years, yet he is virtually unknown in the English speaking realm. Why? Karl May himself refused English translations because "Santer's son would have found Nugget-tsil and the gold treasure."
Personally, I think the gold is right under our noses...his charming, captivating, moving, awe-inspiring, thought-provoking, spirited tales of a world where humanity is shown a glimpse into the age of the 'Edelmensch', the next step in the human race's evolution where love, respect, individuality, and above all, peace, finds its due reward and recognition.
text from one language into another is demanding at the best of times;
Karl May's pulp fiction of the nineteenth century has its own peculiar
challenges. A pretty view from the office window goes a long way to
adding an extra dimension to the long hours spent tracking Winnetou and
Old Shatterhand through the Wild West . . . and with a little bit of
imagination, the neighbour's ponies can turn into a herd of
mustangs racing with thundering hooves across the wide open prairie.