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- Колин Маккалоу
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Bob
grinned
.
"
You
're
a
bloody
comfort
,
Martin
.
"
Martin
looked
around
.
"
Where
's
your
father
,
Bob
?
"
"
West
of
the
fire
,
like
Bugela
.
He
was
out
in
Wilga
mustering
some
ewes
for
the
lambing
,
and
Wilga
's
at
least
five
miles
west
of
where
the
fire
started
,
I
reckon
.
"
"
No
other
men
you
're
worried
about
?
"
"
Not
today
,
thank
heavens
.
"
In
a
way
it
was
like
being
in
a
war
,
Meggie
thought
as
she
entered
the
house
:
a
controlled
speed
,
a
concern
for
food
and
drink
,
the
keeping
up
of
one
's
strength
and
courage
.
And
the
threat
of
imminent
disaster
.
As
more
men
arrived
they
went
to
join
those
already
in
the
Home
Paddock
,
cutting
down
the
few
trees
that
had
sprung
up
close
to
the
creek
bank
,
and
clearing
away
any
overlong
grass
on
the
perimeter
.
Meggie
remembered
thinking
when
she
first
arrived
on
Drogheda
how
much
prettier
the
Home
Paddock
might
have
been
,
for
compared
to
the
wealth
of
timber
all
around
it
,
it
was
bare
and
bleak
.
Now
she
understood
why
.
The
Home
Paddock
was
nothing
less
than
a
gigantic
circular
firebreak
.
Everyone
talked
of
the
fires
Gilly
had
seen
in
its
seventy-odd
years
of
existence
.
Curiously
enough
,
fires
were
never
a
major
threat
during
prolonged
drought
,
because
there
was
n't
sufficient
grass
then
to
keep
a
fire
going
far
.
It
was
times
like
this
,
a
year
or
two
after
heavy
rain
had
made
the
grass
grow
so
long
and
tinder-lush
,
that
Gilly
saw
its
big
fires
,
the
ones
which
sometimes
burned
out
of
control
for
hundreds
of
miles
.
Martin
King
had
taken
charge
of
the
three
hundred
men
remaining
to
defend
Drogheda
.
He
was
the
senior
grazier
of
the
district
,
and
had
fought
fires
for
fifty
years
.
"
I
've
got
150,000
acres
on
Bugela
,
"
he
said
,
"
and
in
1905
I
lost
every
sheep
and
every
tree
on
the
place
.
It
took
me
fifteen
years
to
recover
,
and
I
thought
for
a
while
I
would
n't
,
because
wool
was
n't
fetching
much
in
those
days
,
nor
was
beef
.
"
