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- Колин Маккалоу
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- Стр. 102/535
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They
did
get
a
lot
more
.
The
second
dry
winter
came
in
colder
than
they
had
thought
it
could
get
without
snow
;
frost
settled
inches
thick
on
the
ground
at
night
,
and
the
dogs
huddled
shivering
in
their
kennels
,
keeping
warm
by
gorging
on
kangaroo
meat
and
mounds
of
fat
from
the
homestead
's
slaughtered
cattle
.
At
least
the
weather
meant
beef
and
pork
to
eat
instead
of
the
eternal
mutton
.
In
the
house
they
built
great
roaring
fires
,
and
the
men
were
forced
to
come
home
when
they
could
,
for
at
night
in
the
paddocks
they
froze
.
But
the
shearers
when
they
arrived
were
in
a
mood
for
rejoicing
;
they
could
get
through
faster
and
sweat
less
.
At
each
man
's
stand
in
the
great
shed
was
a
circle
of
flooring
much
lighter
in
color
than
the
rest
,
the
spot
where
fifty
years
of
shearers
had
stood
dripping
their
bleaching
sweat
into
the
wood
of
the
board
.
There
was
still
grass
from
the
flood
long
ago
,
but
it
was
thinning
ominously
.
Day
after
day
the
skies
were
overcast
and
the
light
dull
,
but
it
never
rained
.
The
wind
howled
sadly
across
the
paddocks
,
spinning
drifting
brown
sheets
of
dust
before
it
like
rain
,
tormenting
the
mind
with
images
of
water
.
So
much
like
rain
it
looked
,
that
raggedly
blowing
dust
.
The
children
developed
chilblains
on
their
fingers
,
tried
not
to
smile
with
cracked
lips
,
had
to
peel
their
socks
away
from
bleeding
heels
and
shins
.
It
was
quite
impossible
to
keep
warm
in
the
face
of
that
bitter
high
wind
,
especially
when
the
houses
had
been
designed
to
catch
every
stray
puff
of
air
,
not
keep
it
out
.
Going
to
bed
in
icy
bedrooms
,
getting
up
in
icy
bedrooms
,
waiting
patiently
for
Mum
to
spare
a
little
hot
water
from
the
great
kettle
on
the
hob
so
that
washing
was
not
a
teeth-chattering
,
painful
ordeal
.
One
day
small
Hal
started
to
cough
and
wheeze
,
and
rapidly
grew
worse
.
Fee
mixed
up
a
gluey
hot
poultice
of
charcoal
and
spread
it
on
his
laboring
little
chest
,
but
it
seemed
to
give
him
no
relief
.
At
first
she
was
not
unduly
worried
,
but
as
the
day
drew
on
he
began
to
deteriorate
so
quickly
she
no
longer
had
any
idea
what
to
do
,
and
Meggie
sat
by
his
side
wringing
her
hands
,
praying
a
wordless
stream
of
Our
Fathers
and
Hail
Marys
.
When
Paddy
came
in
at
six
the
child
's
breathing
was
audible
from
the
veranda
,
and
his
lips
were
blue
.
Paddy
set
off
at
once
for
the
big
house
and
the
telephone
,
but
the
doctor
was
forty
miles
away
and
out
on
another
case
.
They
ignited
a
pan
of
sulphur
and
held
him
over
it
in
an
attempt
to
make
him
cough
up
the
membrane
in
his
throat
slowly
choking
him
,
but
he
could
not
manage
to
contract
his
rib
cage
enough
to
dislodge
it
.
His
color
was
growing
a
deeper
blue
,
his
respiration
was
convulsive
.
Meggie
sat
holding
him
and
praying
,
her
heart
squeezed
to
a
wedge
of
pain
because
the
poor
little
fellow
fought
so
for
every
breath
.
Of
all
the
children
,
Hal
was
the
dearest
to
her
;
she
was
his
mother
.
Never
before
had
she
wished
so
desperately
to
be
a
grown-up
mother
,
thinking
that
were
she
a
woman
like
Fee
,
she
would
somehow
have
the
power
to
heal
him
.
Fee
could
n't
heal
him
because
Fee
was
n't
his
mother
.
Confused
and
terrified
,
she
held
the
heaving
little
body
close
,
trying
to
help
Hal
breathe
.
It
never
occurred
to
her
that
he
might
die
,
even
when
Fee
and
Paddy
sank
to
their
knees
by
the
bed
and
prayed
,
not
knowing
what
else
to
do
.
At
midnight
Paddy
pried
Meggie
's
arms
from
around
the
still
child
,
and
laid
him
down
tenderly
against
the
stack
of
pillows
.
Meggie
's
eyes
flew
open
;
she
had
half
fallen
to
sleep
,
lulled
because
Hal
had
stopped
struggling
.
"
Oh
,
Daddy
,
he
's
better
!
"
she
said
.
Paddy
shook
his
head
;
he
seemed
shriveled
and
old
,
the
lamp
picking
up
frosty
bits
in
his
hair
,
frosty
bits
in
his
week-long
beard
.
