“Well—I told you how we stopped the fire at the little creek, didn’t I? We thought it was pretty safe after we had burnt such a good break, and the men with axes had chopped down nearly all the big trees that were alight, so that they couldn’t spread the fire. We reckoned we could sit down and mop our grimy brows and think what fine, brave, bold heroes we were! Which we did.
“There was one big tree the men couldn’t get down. It was right on a bit of a hill, near the bank of the creek—a big brute of a tree, hollow for about twelve feet, and I don’t know how high, but I’ll bet it was over a hundred and fifty feet. It got alight from top to bottom, and, my word, didn’t it blaze!
“The men tried to chop it down, but it was too hot a job even for a salamander. We could only watch it, and it took a lot of watching, because it was showering sparks and bits of wood, and blazing limbs and twigs in every direction. Lots of times they blew into the dead grass beyond our break, and it meant galloping to put them out.
“The wind had been pretty high all the time, and it got up suddenly to a regular gale. It caught this old tree and fairly whisked its burning limbs off. They flew ever so far. We thought we had them all out, when suddenly Dad gave a yell.
“There was a little, deep gully running at right angles to the creek, and right through the paddocks up to the house. In winter it was a creek, but now it was dry as a bone, and rank with dead grass at the bottom. As we looked we saw smoke rise from this gully, far away, in the home paddock.
“‘My Shropshires!’ said Dad, and he made a run for Bosun.
“How we did tear! I never thought old Dad could run so hard! It seemed miles to the corner where the horses were, and ages before we got on them and were racing for the home paddock. And all the time the smoke was creeping along that beastly gully, and we knew well enough that, tear as we might, we couldn’t be in time.
“You see, the valuable sheep were in a paddock, where this gully ended. It wasn’t very near the house, and no one might see the fire before every sheep was roasted. We had only just got them. Dad had imported some from England and some from Tasmania, and I don’t know how much they hadn’t cost.”
“Weren’t you afraid for the house as well?” asked Harry.
“No. There was a big ploughed paddock near the house; it would have taken a tremendous fire to get over that and the orchard and garden. We only worried about the Shropshires.