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- Колин Маккалоу
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- Стр. 101/535
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"
And
what
do
you
think
I
have
?
"
he
asked
.
"
Time
,
Mary
,
nothing
but
time
.
Time
,
and
dust
,
and
flies
.
"
*
*
*
The
clouds
heaped
themselves
in
the
sky
,
and
Paddy
began
to
hope
for
rain
.
"
Dry
storms
,
"
said
Mary
Carson
.
"
We
wo
n't
get
rain
out
of
this
.
We
wo
n't
get
any
rain
for
a
long
time
.
"
If
the
Clearys
thought
they
had
seen
the
worst
that
Australia
could
offer
in
the
way
of
climatic
harshness
,
it
was
because
they
had
n't
yet
experienced
the
dry
storms
of
drought-dogged
plains
.
Bereft
of
soothing
dampness
,
the
dryness
of
the
earth
and
the
air
rubbed
each
other
raw
and
crackling
,
an
irritating
friction
which
built
up
and
up
and
up
until
it
could
end
only
in
a
gargantuan
dissipation
of
accumulated
energy
.
The
sky
dropped
and
darkened
so
much
Fee
had
to
light
the
lamps
indoors
;
out
in
the
stockyards
the
horses
shivered
and
jumped
at
the
slightest
noise
;
the
hens
sought
their
perches
and
sank
their
heads
into
apprehensive
breasts
;
the
dogs
fought
and
snarled
;
the
tame
pigs
which
rooted
among
the
rubbish
of
the
station
dump
burrowed
their
snouts
into
the
dust
and
peered
out
of
it
with
bright
,
skittish
eyes
.
Brooding
forces
pent
in
the
heavens
struck
fear
into
the
bones
of
all
living
things
,
as
the
vast
deep
clouds
swallowed
the
sun
whole
and
prepared
to
spew
solar
fire
over
the
earth
.
Thunder
came
marching
from
far
away
with
increasing
tread
,
tiny
flickers
on
the
horizon
cast
soaring
billows
into
sharp
relief
,
crests
of
startling
whiteness
foamed
and
curled
over
midnight-blue
depths
.
Then
,
with
a
roaring
wind
that
sucked
up
the
dust
and
flung
it
stinging
in
eyes
and
ears
and
mouths
,
came
the
cataclysm
.
No
longer
did
they
try
to
imagine
the
biblical
wrath
of
God
;
they
lived
through
it
.
No
man
could
have
kept
himself
from
jumping
when
the
thunder
cracked
--
it
exploded
with
the
noise
and
fury
of
a
disintegrating
world
--
but
after
a
while
the
assembled
household
grew
so
inured
to
it
they
crept
out
onto
the
veranda
and
stared
across
the
creek
at
the
far
paddocks
.
Great
forks
of
lightning
stood
ribbed
in
veins
of
fire
all
around
the
sky
,
dozens
of
bolts
each
and
every
moment
;
naphtha
flashes
in
chains
streaked
across
the
clouds
,
in
and
out
the
billows
in
a
fantastic
hide-and-seek
.
Blasted
trees
alone
in
the
grass
reeked
and
smoked
,
and
they
understood
at
last
why
these
lonely
paddock
sentinels
were
dead
.
An
eerie
,
unearthly
glow
seeped
into
the
air
,
air
which
was
no
longer
invisible
but
on
fire
from
within
,
fluorescing
pink
and
lilac
and
sulphur
yellow
,
and
smelling
of
some
hauntingly
sweet
,
elusive
perfume
quite
beyond
recognition
.
The
trees
shimmered
,
the
red
Cleary
hair
was
haloed
in
tongues
of
fire
,
the
hairs
of
their
arms
stood
out
stiffly
.
And
all
afternoon
it
went
on
,
only
slowly
fading
into
the
east
to
release
them
from
its
awesome
spell
at
sunset
,
and
they
were
excited
,
on
edge
,
unappeased
.
Not
a
drop
of
rain
had
fallen
.
But
it
was
like
dying
and
coming
back
to
life
again
,
to
have
survived
the
atmospheric
tantrum
unscathed
;
it
was
all
they
could
talk
about
for
a
week
.
"
We
'll
get
a
lot
more
,
"
said
Mary
Carson
,
bored
.
