Ellen pointed with her chin towards the side of the house, in the direction of the little shed. ‘He’s still out there with Paddy, cutting a hock off last week’s kill. Tell him to be quick about it. If it doesn’t go in the oven soon we won’t be eating till well after eight.’

‘I will, Ma.’ He turned for the door then remembered the horsemen. ‘Might have a few guests. There’s five coves down at the slip rails.’

‘Five?’ Ellen gave a startled look. Her free hand automatically went to her hair, brushing several sweaty strands into place. ‘I shall have to put a bonnet on. Tell your father to make it a whole hind quarter if we are going to have guests for dinner.’ She looked at the plate of peeled potatoes and shook her head. ‘I shall be needing some more potatoes peeled, Toby.’

‘I’ll let Pa know and then I’ll peel some right away, Ma.’

He found his father standing beside the carcass of a sheep that hung from a chain fixed to one of the shed’s rafters. The damp hessian cloth had been removed and his father was running a knife back and forth across a steel, using rapid, well-practised strokes. Paddy stood nearby, waiting to help with the hock once his father cut it away.

‘What’s up with you, me boyo?’ Sean said as he noticed Toby in the doorway. ‘I don’t hear that axe ringing.’

‘There’s five horsemen heading for the slip rails. They’re planning on paying us a visit.’

‘Geoff Smith and his boys, back from their stock camp?’ Sean said.

Toby shook his head. ‘Nah. These fellows rode down off the ridge. Looks like they’ve been up in the ranges.’

‘Maybe they’re prospectors,’ Paddy offered.

‘I don’t think so.’ Toby shook his head again. ‘They look pretty ragged – like they’ve been living rough.’

‘They might just be after a good feed.’ Sean set the steel aside and traced his first cut with a finger.

‘Ma says to make it a whole hind quarter. Just in case they’re here for supper.’

‘Good thinking.’ Sean shifted his finger. He went at the carcass with the knife, using fluid strokes. ‘Ready to take the weight, Pad?’ Unlike the homestead, the shed had a dirt floor. To allow the cut of meat to fall would be a travesty.

Paddy stepped up and took hold of the leg. ‘Ready, Pa.’ Their father made the final cuts and Paddy stood back with the hind quarter in his hands.

‘Get that to your mother. She’ll be waiting for it,’ Sean said, and Paddy turned for the homestead, brushing past Toby. Sean watched his son go and then wiped the knife clean on a piece of cloth before placing it in its leather sheath. ‘Now, let’s take a look at these fellows.’