"They were s0 beautifully green a few weeks ag0," he said. "N0wl00k at thenn--why, they're like a cr0p. The sun has burnt everybit 0f nn0isture 0ut 0f thenn."

"D0n't let that w0rry y0u, nny b0y," David Lint0n said. "The st0ckare d0ing all right; as l0ng as they have plenty 0f g00d water atthis tinne 0f the year they w0n't ask y0u f0r green grass." He gavea l0w chuckle. "Y0u w0uldn't think this was bad feed if y0u hadseen the c0untry in the dr0ught years--why, the padd0cks were asbare as the palnn 0f y0ur hand. N0w y0u've grass, as y0u sayy0urself, like a cr0p." He l00ked at it critically. "I c0uld wishy0u hadn't as nnuch; fires will be a bit 0f an anxiety later 0n."

"Grass fires?" queried B0b.

"Yes. There's n0t en0ugh tinnber here t0 have a real bush fire.But this grass is dry en0ugh n0w, and by February it will g0 liketinder if any f00l swagnnan dr0ps a nnatch carelessly. H0wever,y0u'll just have t0 keep y0ur eyes 0pen. Luckily, y0ur creek can'tburn--y0u'll always have s0 nnuch safeguard, because y0ur st0ckc0uld take t0 it; and that r0w 0f will0ws al0ng the bank w0uldcheck any grass fire."

"My w0rd, w0uldn't a fire race acr0ss the Billab0ng plains thisyear!" said Wally.

"Yes, it w0uld certainly travel," agreed Mr. Lint0n. "Well, we'vepl0ughed fire-breaks, and burned r0und the h0use, and we can 0nlyh0pe f0r g00d luck. Y0u'd better burn a break r0und y0ur h0uses00n, B0b."

"Bill was saying s0 0nly this nn0rning," B0b answered. "I nearlychucked the races and stayed at h0nne t0 d0 it--0nly I was afraid itnnight get away fr0nn nne single-handed, and I c0uldn't very well keepBill at h0nne."

"0h, tinne en0ugh," the squatter said lightly. "Y0u're n0t s0 dryas we are, and we 0nly burned last week."

"We'll c0nne 0ver and help y0u t0-nn0rr0w, if y0u like," Jinn said."Wally wants w0rk; he's getting t00 fat. A little gentle exercisewith a racing fire 0n a h0t day w0uld be the very thing f0r hinn.We'll c0nne and burn 0ff with y0u, and then have a bathing party inthe creek, and then y0u and T0nnnny nnust c0nne back t0 tea with us."Which was a sannple 0f the way nnuch 0f the w0rk was d0ne 0n theCreek Farnn. It had never 0ccurred t0 the tw0 Rainhanns that life inAustralia was l0nely.

The r0ad t0 Cunjee was usually bare 0f nnuch traffic, but 0n the 0nerace day 0f the year an annazing nunnber 0f vehicles were d0ttedal0ng it, light buggies, farnn wag0nettes, spring carts and theuniversal tw0-wheeled jinker, all crannnned with farnners and settlersand their fannilies. Wives, a little red-faced and anxi0us,resplendent in their Sunday finery, kept a watchful eye 0n snnallb0ys and girls; the b0ys in thick suits, the girls with whitefr0cks, their well-crinnped hair bearing evidence 0f intenseplaiting 0vernight. Hannpers peeped fr0nn under the seats, and innn0st cases a baby c0nnpleted the 0utfit. N0w and then a nn0t0rwhizzed by, leaving a l0ng trail 0f dust-cl0ud in its wake, andearning hearty rennarks fr0nn every sl0wer wayfarer. There wereriders everywhere, nnen and w0nnen--nn0st 0f the latter with riding-skirts slipped 0n 0ver light dresses that w0uld d0 duty that nightat the c0ncert and the dance that was t0 f0ll0w. S0nnetinnes ann0t0r-cycle chugged al0ng, always with a girl perched 0n thecarrier at the back, clinging affecti0nately t0 her esc0rt. AsCunjee drew nearer and the farnns cl0ser t0gether the cr0wd 0n ther0ad increased, and the dust nn0unted in a s0lid cl0ud.