He’d lost track of time, but as his tears dried and he gained control of his emotions he became aware of a distant sound that at first he couldn’t identify. He looked around, noticing suddenly how dark it had become – and although there was very little wind, the dust clouds that moments before had been red-tinged were now grey and swirling.

His sharp intake of breath confirmed his greatest fear, for that wasn’t dust surrounding him, but smoke.

Heart hammering, he raced across the stony ground to the cookhouse and began to pull frantically on the bell which hung outside. ‘Fire! Fire!’ he shouted.

People came pouring out of the cookhouse, the barns and the homestead. As one they followed Hugh’s pointing finger – and as one they froze. The sky above the great sweep of bush that spread along the far southern end of Carey Downs was a broiling mass of black and grey, tinged orange with the flames that flickered in the canopy.

Big Mac was the first to move and, as he shouted orders, the men raced to obey him. He approached Hugh at a run. ‘We’ve got to get the women and children out of here,’ he said flatly. ‘I’m putting you in charge.’

Before he could reply, Big Mac was already running back to the homestead, no doubt to alert the fire services. Hugh knew there was no time to waste. He turned to the women, who were still milling about outside the cookhouse. ‘Round up your children and gather over by the trucks and wagons. Do not take off on your own. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Without waiting to answer their frantic questions, he ran for the homestead. He found Maeve and her children gathered on the veranda alongside the native housemaids who were fearfully eyeing the distant blaze, their small children clutched in their arms. ‘All of you, go with the other women,’ he ordered.

‘You can take the kids, but I’m staying,’ said Maeve.

‘You’ll bloody well do as you’re told!’ roared Big Mac as he emerged from inside the house, his expression grim.

Maeve was all of five feet tall, but that small frame belied the inner steel that had served her well over the years of living in this isolated and dangerous place. ‘Don’t shout at me,’ she snapped. ‘This is my home and I’m not leaving.’

Big Mac glared at her, then, without warning, swung her off her feet and over his shoulder. ‘I’ve lost enough today,’ he rumbled. ‘I ain’t losing you too. Come on, kids.’

Hugh and the maids helped the children to follow him as he ran down the steps, his protesting wife beating her ineffectual fists against his broad back as he carried her across the clearing to the collection of cars, trucks and wagons and unceremoniously dumped her into the back of Hugh’s ute.