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- Колин Маккалоу
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If
you
find
anything
,
three
shots
in
the
air
,
and
those
who
hear
must
answer
with
one
shot
each
.
Then
wait
.
Whoever
fired
the
three
shots
will
fire
three
more
five
minutes
later
,
and
keep
on
firing
three
shots
every
five
minutes
.
Those
who
hear
,
one
shot
in
answer
.
"
Jack
,
you
go
south
along
the
fire
line
.
Hughie
,
you
go
southwest
.
I
'm
going
west
.
Mum
and
Meggie
,
you
go
northwest
.
Stu
,
follow
the
fire
line
due
north
.
And
go
slowly
,
everyone
,
please
.
The
rain
does
n't
make
it
any
easier
to
see
far
,
and
there
's
a
lot
of
timber
out
here
in
places
.
Call
often
;
he
might
not
see
you
where
he
would
hear
you
.
But
remember
,
no
shots
unless
you
find
something
,
because
he
did
n't
have
a
gun
with
him
and
if
he
should
hear
a
shot
and
be
out
of
voice
range
to
answer
,
it
would
be
dreadful
for
him
.
"
Good
luck
,
and
God
bless
.
"
Like
pilgrims
at
the
final
crossroads
they
straggled
apart
in
the
steady
grey
rain
,
getting
farther
and
farther
away
from
each
other
,
smaller
and
smaller
,
until
each
disappeared
along
the
appointed
path
.
Stuart
had
gone
a
bare
half
mile
when
he
noticed
that
a
stand
of
burned
timber
drew
very
close
to
the
fire
's
demarcation
line
.
There
was
a
little
wilga
as
black
and
crinkled
as
a
pickaninny
's
mop
,
and
the
remains
of
a
great
stump
standing
close
to
the
charred
boundary
.
What
he
saw
was
Paddy
's
horse
,
sprawled
and
fused
into
the
trunk
of
a
big
gum
,
and
two
of
Paddy
's
dogs
,
little
black
stiff
things
with
all
four
limbs
poking
up
like
sticks
.
He
got
down
from
his
horse
,
boots
sinking
ankle
deep
in
mud
,
and
took
his
rifle
from
its
saddle
scabbard
.
His
lips
moved
,
praying
,
as
he
picked
his
slippery
way
across
the
sticky
coals
.
Had
it
not
been
for
the
horse
and
the
dogs
he
might
have
hoped
for
a
swaggie
or
some
down-and-out
wayfarer
caught
,
trapped
.
But
Paddy
was
horsed
and
had
five
dogs
with
him
;
no
one
on
the
track
rode
a
horse
or
had
more
than
one
dog
.
This
was
too
far
inside
Drogheda
land
to
think
of
drovers
,
or
stockmen
from
Bugela
to
the
west
.
Farther
away
were
three
more
incinerated
dogs
;
five
altogether
,
five
dogs
.
He
knew
he
would
not
find
a
sixth
,
nor
did
he
.
And
not
far
from
the
horse
,
hidden
as
he
approached
by
a
log
,
was
what
had
been
a
man
.
There
could
be
no
mistake
.
Glistening
and
shiny
in
the
rain
,
the
black
thing
lay
on
its
back
,
and
its
back
was
arched
like
a
great
bow
so
that
it
bent
upward
in
the
middle
and
did
not
touch
the
ground
except
at
the
buttocks
and
shoulders
.
The
arms
were
flung
apart
and
curved
at
the
elbows
as
if
beseeching
heaven
,
the
fingers
with
the
flesh
dropping
off
them
to
reveal
charred
bones
were
clawing
and
grasping
at
nothing
.
The
legs
were
splayed
apart
also
but
flexed
at
the
knees
,
and
the
blob
of
a
head
looked
up
sightless
,
eyeless
at
the
sky
.
For
a
moment
Stuart
's
clear
,
all-seeing
gaze
rested
on
his
father
,
and
saw
not
the
ruined
shell
but
the
man
,
as
he
had
been
in
life
.
He
pointed
his
rifle
at
the
sky
,
fired
a
shot
,
reloaded
,
fired
a
second
shot
,
reloaded
,
let
off
the
third
.
Faintly
in
the
distance
he
heard
one
answering
report
,
then
,
farther
off
and
very
faintly
,
a
second
answer
.
It
was
then
he
remembered
the
closer
shot
would
have
come
from
his
mother
and
sister
.
They
were
northwest
,
he
was
north
.
Without
waiting
the
stipulated
five
minutes
,
he
put
another
shell
in
the
rifle
breech
,
pointed
the
gun
due
south
,
and
fired
.
A
pause
to
reload
,
the
second
shot
,
reload
,
the
third
shot
.
He
put
the
weapon
back
on
the
ground
and
stood
looking
south
,
his
head
cocked
,
listening
.
This
time
the
first
answer
was
from
the
west
,
Bob
's
shot
,
the
second
from
Jack
or
Hughie
,
and
the
third
from
his
mother
.
He
sighed
in
relief
;
he
did
n't
want
the
women
reaching
him
first
.
Thus
he
did
n't
see
the
great
wild
pig
emerge
from
the
trees
to
the
north
;
he
smelled
it
.
As
big
as
a
cow
,
its
massive
bulk
rolled
and
quivered
on
short
,
powerful
legs
as
it
drove
its
head
down
,
raking
at
the
burned
wet
ground
.
The
shots
had
disturbed
it
,
and
it
was
in
pain
.
The
sparse
black
hair
on
one
side
of
its
body
was
singed
off
and
the
skin
was
redly
raw
;
what
Stuart
smelled
as
he
stared
into
the
south
was
the
delectable
odor
of
bubbled
pork
skin
,
just
as
it
is
on
a
roasted
joint
fresh
from
the
oven
and
crisp
all
over
the
slashed
outer
husk
.
Surprised
out
of
the
curiously
peaceful
sorrow
he
always
seemed
to
have
known
,
his
head
turned
,
even
as
he
thought
to
himself
that
he
must
have
been
here
before
,
that
this
sodden
black
place
had
been
etched
into
some
part
of
his
brain
on
the
day
of
his
birth
.
