Toby stood between the bodies of his mother and father and watched the men ride away. They reached the slip rails and did not pause or look back, riding on until the bush surrounded them and they were gone. He stared after them for a long time, too scared and shocked to move, his gaze fixed on the patch of bushland where they had disappeared.

His brother’s low groan snapped him out of the trance-like state.

‘My God, Paddy!’

Standing at the starboard rail of the Charlotte Elizabeth, Annie Hocking watched the low, green hills of Australia slip by. This was not her first glimpse of her new homeland, but with the ship on a long starboard tack past the battered headland of Cape Schanck, it was the closest she had come to that mysterious continent at the end of the world. For the past five days a gusting north wind had prevented the ship from entering Port Phillip Bay. After seven months at sea they were forced to tack back and forth across the choppy waters of Bass Strait, a mere sixty miles from their destination, as the captain waited for more favourable conditions.

Annie lifted her face and sniffed the air, delighting in the medicine-like smell of eucalyptus carried on the wind. There were other scents there as well, grasses and something earthy that she imagined was from the great inland deserts, the birthplace of the wind itself. Underneath her feeling of delight, the pang of disappointment grew, for it appeared today would be no different from any other and the Charlotte Elizabeth would not be attempting to cross the notorious bar guarding the bay. Holding the rail with one hand, the other firmly on her bonnet, Annie studied the hazy hills, longing to be among them.

‘Do you think we will be able to see kangaroos when we enter the bay?’ Betty asked.

Annie tore her gaze away from the shoreline and looked down at her sister. Betty had not been successful in keeping her own bonnet on and her hair fluttered behind her in long, auburn streamers. With her freckled face screwed up against the glare, she examined the distant shore.

‘I don’t know,’ Annie said. ‘Maybe.’

‘I bet we do,’ Betty said with certainty. ‘I bet we see kangaroos and wombats and possums, but not snakes. I don’t want to see any snakes. I think they are horrid creatures.’ Among the ten-year-old’s most treasured possessions was an almanac of Australian creatures that she studied every day with great intensity.

‘I imagine there aren’t many snakes in Melbourne itself,’ Annie replied, turning back to the shoreline. ‘Or any of those other animals either.’ Then another thought occurred to her.

‘Was Mama dressed when you left our berth, Betty?’

The little girl nodded. ‘She was. Papa was most insistent that she come on deck and take the air. I think she will this time.’