Ben and the others raced towards them, chopping away the branches, shouting for water, smothering the flames with earth and shovels and bits of sacking, desperate to get them out alive. They were sweating and straining to lift the heavy branches as the flames licked at their clothes and hair and the two men continued to scream.

‘Get that bloody bowser over here,’ Ben yelled to the man beside him before returning to help beat out the flames.

Charley was within reach now, but his leg was trapped and the flames were blackening his clothes. ‘It’s all right, mate,’ Ben gasped as he kept hacking at the branches. ‘We’ll get you out.’

The great gush of water almost knocked the rescuers off their feet. Smoke and ash blinded them as they quickened their frantic pace and continued to try to cut the men out. Both men had stopped screaming now, and the dreadful silence only made the rescuers work harder.

But the flames were dying, sizzling beneath the onslaught, and finally they could reach the two men.

It took six of them to lift Charley out and carry him to safety, for he’d fainted and was a dead weight. The young jackaroo was much lighter, and Ben scooped him up and ran towards the first-aid station they’d set up several hundred yards away from the fire.

Yet, as he laid the boy on the stretcher next to Charley, he could see how badly he’d been burned and knew that he was dead. He pulled the sheet over the slender, charred body, muttered a quick prayer and turned to see how Charley was.

Paddy had been put in charge of the first-aid station. He’d been in the medical corps during the war, and had given Ben the salient details of what had happened with Terence over at Blackman’s Creek. ‘Reckon he’ll live,’ he said as he checked Charley’s pulse and began to cut away the blacksmith’s shirt and trousers. ‘He won’t look too pretty for a while, but he got off lightly compared to that poor little bugger.’ He glanced across at the shrouded figure and then returned to Charley.

Ben took a long drink of water and blinked the stinging sweat from his eyes as he regarded the three other badly injured men who were waiting to be taken to Morgan’s Reach for treatment. ‘I’ll go and find Mark Baker and get him to bring the truck. We need to get these men to hospital,’ he murmured.

‘I’ll give this one a jab of morphine to knock him out for the journey,’ said Paddy. ‘Don’t fancy young Mark’s chances of keeping him still once he wakes up. The bloke’s built like a flaming outhouse.’