Dad always slept in his clothes, and he used to think some nights that the others came in before time.

It was terrible going out, half awake, to tramp round that paddock from fire to fire, from hour to hour, shouting and yelling.

And how we used to long for daybreak! Whenever we sat down quietly together for a few minutes we would hear the dull THUD! THUD! THUD!--the kangaroo's footstep.
At last we each carried a kerosene tin, slung like a kettle-drum, and belted it with a waddy--Dad's idea.

He himself manipulated an old bell that he had found on a bullock's grave, and made a splendid noise with it.
It was a hard struggle, but we succeeded in saving the bulk of the barley, and cut it down with a scythe and three reaping-hooks.

The girls helped to bind it, and Jimmy Mulcahy carted it in return for three days' binding Dad put in for him.