“A billowing haze hovered above the bullocks as Mr Callahan coerced the animals around a long, curving corner. It was then Kate saw them again. The huts on the hill. They huddled together as if derelict, fringed by a half-circle of bush on the western side and the bleak hill they clung to. There was no neat fence, white-washed walls or dappled orchard. No tapestry of fields with swaying wheat or corn, no mill rising proudly in the distance. Mr Callahan, at the lead of the team, looked back towar...ds her. Kate stumbled on the rough ground and resumed walking. What had she done in deciding to travel to this place? A curl of smoke streamed into the air from one of the huts. Empty ground fanned out in a half-mile perimeter, affording a clear view across treeless dirt to the timbered foothill. A creek appeared to weave towards this timber, while in the foreground sheep fed into the westerly wind. Their arrival was greeted with a single wave. Red-bearded Samuel Hardy, his five-foot-nothing wife Sarah and a young girl stood out the front of the hut as they approached.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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