CHAPTER XI
THE BATTLE UNDER THE STARS
This is the homestead—the still lagoon
Kisses the foot of the garden fence,
Shimmering under a silver moon
In a midnight silence, cold and tense.
—W. H. Ogilvie.
SARAH, the housemaid, was at the big bell of the station, ringing it wildly. Long after every man and woman on Billabong was awake and busy, Sarah continued to ring. She said afterwards that it seemed to ease her!
A flying fragment from the burning loft had been carried by the wind across the gardens to the oldest part of the homestead—wooden rooms that were now used as storerooms and out-offices. In five minutes they were blazing fiercely.
Jim and Wally had raced for the garden fence, vaulting it, and landing in the midst of a bed of pansies.