s, didn't do so badly. Billy was on Mick, and he and I had a go for
the lead across the last paddock."

"Who won?" asked Harry.

"Me," said Jim ungrammatically. "When we got into the smoke we had to go
round a bit, or we'd have gone straight into the fire. We hung up the
horses in a corner that had been burnt round, and was safe from more
fire, and off we went. There were ever so many men fighting it; all
Morrison's fellows, and a lot from other places as well. The fire had
started right at our boundary, and had come across a two-hundred acre
paddock like a shot. Then a little creek checked it a bit, and let the
fighters have a show.

"There were big trees blazing everywhere, and stumps and logs, and every
few minutes the fire would get going again in some ferns or long grass,
and go like mischief, and half a dozen men after it, to stop it. It had
got across the creek, and there was a line of men on the bank keeping it
back. Some others were chopping down the big, blazing, dead trees, that
were simply showering sparks all round. The wind was pretty strong, and
took burning leaves and sticks ever so far and started the fire in
different places. Three fellows on ponies were doing nothing but watch
for these flying firebrands, galloping after them and putting them out
as they fell."

Jim paused.

"Say you put your hook in the water, Wally, old chap," he suggested.

Wally looked and blushed. In the excitement of the moment he had
unconsciously pulled up his line until the bait dangled helplessly in
the air, a foot above the water. The party on the log laughed at the
expense of Wally, and Jim proceeded.

"Father and four other men came across the creek and sang out to us--

"'We're going back a bit to burn a break!' they said. 'Come along.'

"We all went back about a hundred yards from the creek and lit the
grass, spreading out in a long line across the paddock. Then every one
kept his own little fire from going in the wrong direction, and kept it
burning back towards the creek, of course preventing any logs or trees
from getting alight. It was pretty tough work, the smoke was so bad, but
at last it was done, and a big, burnt streak put across the paddock.
Except for flying bits of lighted stuff there wasn't much risk of the
fire getting away from us when once we had got that break to help us.
You see, a grass fire isn't like a real bush fire. It's a far more
manageable beast. It's when you get fire in thick scrub