The great horseshoe of fire curved from east to west, smoke billowing into the darkening sky as it devoured everything in its path. Behind it was a smoking, blackened wasteland where once there had been homesteads and farms, barns, outbuildings and animal pens.

As she climbed out of the utility and stared at the scene in horror she could smell the smoke, hear the birds rising in alarm, and felt the wind of their wings as they raced away from this voracious and deadly enemy. She turned and ran back to the end of the narrow pass and looked further west.

The fire had spread to Carey Downs and was advancing on Wilga Station and the smaller Gilburn – if it spread any further, it would reach Max’s forest, and ultimately his cabin. And Max had no way of knowing what danger he was in, because he refused to have a two-way radio.

Her heart was pounding as she raced back to the utility and struggled to turn it around in the narrow track. But once she had, she put her foot down on the accelerator and, disregarding the damage she might do to herself or the ancient vehicle, drove as quickly as she could back to the glade.

She leaped out almost before the ute slewed to a halt. ‘Max! Max, where are you? There’s a fire. A big one, and it’s coming this way.’ She slammed through the door of the cabin to find it deserted. ‘Max!’ she yelled. ‘Max, where are you?’

Running to the storage shed, she found that was also deserted, and there was no sign of his easel or chair – no sign of Brandy – or even the ponies. Her tears were of frustration and fear as she continued to call his name and heard only the echoes of her desperate cries coming back to her.

She clambered on to the rocks where she’d sat the other day, hoping that from here she might be heard more clearly. ‘Max,’ she screamed. ‘Max, answer me, please. There’s a fire. You’re in danger.’

But as the sky darkened and the first wisps of smoke began to float towards her above the forest canopy, Sal’s fear strengthened. ‘Max,’ she shrieked through her tears. ‘Max, I’m not leaving you here to die. Please tell me where you are.’

*

After receiving Jim Rider’s urgent call, Ben had alerted the nearest fire station to Wallaby Creek, which was several miles to the south of the small settlement, and sent an advance corps of volunteers to deal with it. Knowing his call would be heard by everyone within a hundred miles or so of Morgan’s Reach, he nevertheless put out an emergency alert to warn them to be on standby in case they were needed.

But when he received the call from Big Mac he knew his troubles had only just started, and that he would need all the help he could get.