THE SQUATTER AND THE SETTLER. 215 



these made "leaps and bounds" from tree to tree, and the terrified wallaby, 

 dogs, cattle, fowls, and kangaroo helplessly crowded among the people, 

 seeking shelter and protection from the common danger. 



* The struggle to save the home is sometimes touchingly told. Mrs. 

 Hurley was alone on the selection at Cowley's Creek with her seven 

 children, her husband being away cutting grass-seed to plant in the autumn. 

 The eldest children were a boy of fourteen and a girl of twelve. She said : 

 " When I saw the fire coming I sent the children to the water-hole to get 

 water in the bucket and dipper and everything that would hold it. We put 

 the water on the fence and houses. The children all worked till they were 

 ready to drop to save the place, even the youngest. The boy was on the 

 roof of the house pouring water on the rafters, and the girl was on the 

 shed. The fire came quick and scorched us. It burned in the tree branches 

 more than on the ground. The wind blew the big sparks right at us and 

 burned our clothes, but the little ones and myself kept going to the water- 

 hole with the dippers and pans to keep the house wet. The boy kept the 

 house well soaked on the roof, and I thought we might keep it safe, when 

 one of the girls cried out, ' Mother, it's alight inside.' Then the place went 

 all up on fire, and we couldn't get anything out. The sheds and the reaper 

 and binder and thresher went just after, and the orchards and fences as 

 well. The children asked me to run with them to Mrs. M 'Donald, our 

 neighbour's. I told them to run on ahead, as one of the boys had a bad 

 foot, and I had to help him. The other children got to Mrs. M 'Donald's 

 all right, but before I could get through with the boy the forest was all 

 burning, and the branches were coming down in showers. My boots were 

 burnt off my feet, and I have not been able to wear a boot since. Mrs. 

 M 'Donald and the neighbours kindly helped me to put some things on the 

 children, and Bob Cowley gave me the tent we're living in now." 



'The cry, "The house is alight inside," was the despairing message from 

 many a watcher to those who, mounted on the ridge, were striving in the 

 blinding smoke and scorching heat to beat back the fire from the dwelling. 

 The high wind blew live coals underneath the shingles to enkindle the 

 canvas lining, and then the exhausted settler, foiled in his endeavour to save 

 his or his neighbour's home, could only throw himself face downwards in his 

 potato crop to get a breath of fresh air. But Mrs. Power, of Curdie's 

 River, was more fortunate, and it was impossible to belie the simple and 

 unaffected sincerity with which she devoutly ascribed her escape to the direct 

 interposition of Providence. Her husband, like too many other selectors in 

 the wild and inhospitable Heytesbury forest — inhospitable until by laborious 

 toil it has been reclaimed — was away at other work when the fire happened. 

 The holding was directly in the track of the fire. " It was on the hill 

 yonder," said Mrs. Power, "that we were burned out seven years ago — I 

 mean there where the scrub is as thick as ever, which shows how hard the 



