it was odious to Harry Heathcote, not so much on account of its own
intrinsic abominations, as because it might cause a fire to sweep
across his run from its western boundary. Just beyond the boundary
there lay Boolabong, and there were collected his enemies. A fire
that should have passed for a mile or so across the pastures outside
and beyond his own farm would be altogether unextinguishable by the
time that it had reached his paddock. The Brownbies, as he knew well,
would care nothing for burning a patch of their own grass. Their
stock, if they had any at the present moment, were much too few in
number to be affected by such a loss. The Brownbies had not a yard of
fencing to be burned; and a fire, if once it got a hold on the edge
of their run, would pass on away from them, right across Harry's
pastures and Harry's fences. If such were the case, he would have
quite enough to do to drive his sheep from the fire, and it might be
that many of them also would perish in the flames. The catastrophe
might even be so bad, so frightful, that the shed and station and all
should go; though, in thinking of all the fires of which he had
heard, he could remember none that had spread with fatality such as
that.

He found Karl Bender in his hut asleep. The man was soon up,
apologizing for his somnolence, and preparing tea for his master's
entertainment. "It is not Christmas like at home at all; is it, Mr.
'Eathcote? Dear, no! Them red divils is there ready to give us a
Christmas roasting." Then he told how he had boldly ridden up to
Boolabong that morning, and had seen Georgie and Boscobel with his
own eyes. When asked what they had said to him, he replied that he
did not wait till any thing had been said, but had hurried away as
fast as his horse could carry him.