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           Itwastimeslikethis,ayearortwoafterheavyrainhadmadethegrassgrowsolongandtinder-lush,thatGillysawitsbigfires,theoneswhichsometimesburnedoutofcontrolforhundredsofmiles.

           MartinKinghadtakenchargeofthethreehundredmenremainingtodefendDrogheda.Hewastheseniorgrazierofthedistrict,andhadfoughtfiresforfiftyyears.

           "I’vegot150,000acresonBugela,"hesaid,"andin1905Ilosteverysheepandeverytreeontheplace.Ittookmefifteenyearstorecover,andIthoughtforawhileIwouldn’t,becausewoolwasn’tfetchingmuchinthosedays,norwasbeef."

           Thewindwasstillhowling,thesmellofburningwaseverywhere.Nighthadfallen,butthewesternskywaslittounholybrillianceandloweringsmokewasbeginningtomakethemcough.Notlongafterwardtheysawthefirstflames,vasttonguesleapingandwrithingahundredfeetintothesmoke,andaroaringcametotheirearslikeahugecrowdoverexcitedatafootballgame.ThetreesonthewesternsideofthetimberringingtheHomePaddockcaughtandwentupinasolidsheetoffire;asMeggiewatchedpetrifiedfromthehomesteadverandashecouldseelittlepygmysilhouettesofmenoutlinedagainstthem,jumpingandcavortinglikeanguishedsoulsinHell.

           "Meggie,willyougetinhereandstackthoseplatesonthesideboard,girl!We’renotatapicnic,youknow!"camehermother’svoice.Sheturnedawayreluctantly.