d which in the memory of all those whom
I have introduced to you ranks as the most important of their lives. To
me, looking back upon nearly sixty years of memory, the events which
are coming stand out from the rest of my quiet life, well defined and
remarkable, above all others. As looking on our western moors, one sees
the long straight sky-line, broken only once in many miles by some
fantastic Tor.

Chapter XXIV

IN WHICH MARY HAWKER LOSES ONE OF HER OLDEST SWEETHEARTS.

Sixteen years of peace and plenty had rolled over the heads of James
Stockbridge and myself, and we had grown to be rich. Our agent used to
rub his hands, and bow, whenever our high mightinesses visited town.
There was money in the bank, there was claret in the cellar, there were
race-horses in the paddock; in short, we were wealthy prosperous
men--James a magistrate.

November set in burning hot, and by the tenth the grass was as dry as
stubble; still we hoped for a thunder-storm and a few days' rain, but
none came. December wore wearily on, and by Christmas the smaller
creeks, except those which were snow-fed, were reduced to a few muddy
pools, and vast quantities of cattle were congregated within easy reach
of the river, from other people's runs, miles away.

Of course, feed began to get very scarce, yet we were hardly so bad off
yet as our neighbours, for we had just parted with every beast we could
spare, at high prices, to Port Phillip, and were only waiting for the
first rains to start after store cattle, which were somewhat hard to
get near the new colony.

No rain yet, and we were in the end of January; the fountains of heaven
were dried up, but now all round the northern horizon the bush fires
burn continually, a pillar of smoke by day, and a pillar of fire by
night.

Nearer, night by night, like an enemy creeping up to a beleaguered
town. The weather had been very still for some time, and we took
precaution to burn great strips of grass all round the paddocks to the
north, but, in spite of all our precautions, I knew that, should a
strong wind come on from that quarter, nothing short of a miracle would
save us.

But as yet the weather was very still, not very bright, but rather
cloudy, and a dense haze of smoke was over everything, making the
distances look ten times as far as they really were, and rendering the
whole landscape as grey and melancholy as you can conceive. There was
nothing much to be done, but to sit in t