The humped forms of men lay here and there. A ruby glint shone from the fire, almost out now. Hobbled horses stood still as statues on the other side of the track. Lorna walked slowly away from the circle of sleeping men, taking care to keep on the track. The trees closed about her and she was alone in the bush.

She walked a dozen paces off the track, counting each step with care. There were no low bushes, no concealing undergrowth. She hesitated and looked about her again. The forest brooded at her back. It might contain a thousand watching eyes, or none. No help for it. She crouched, hearing the fallen bark and leaves crunch beneath her weight, and relieved herself.

When she was finished, she stood, adjusting her dress. Once again counting her steps, she made her way back to the track, breathing easier when she found it.

There was a gum tree, one among millions. Bark hung in peeling strips from its pale trunk. Overhead, far out of her reach, branches massed their grey spears of leaves against the lightening sky. Lorna laid her palm on the trunk. It was cool to her touch, slightly damp. This is the first living thing I have touched in Australia, she thought, yet it gave back no feeling of life. It might have been made of marble.

It would take time to feel at home here. Too much time, perhaps. Her instinct warned her that this was an old land, indescribably old. It measured time not in minutes, not even in months or years, but in thousands of years. Again she remembered what Andrew had said, the previous day.

We have to be ready to adapt, all of us.

It might be impossible. There might not be enough time in her life to come to terms with the alien trees.

The harsh shrieks of birds greeted her as she re-entered the clearing. A sudden puff of wind set the leaves hissing overhead. Some of the men were wandering about with the weary lack of purpose of those who have spent a wretched night. Andrew was awake, standing a little apart from the rest, his dark and decent jacket tight-buttoned. His pale face with its fringe of black beard shone in the gentle light. He was holding his Testament in his hand.

He looked at her, unsmiling. ‘Did ye sleep?’

‘A little. And you?’

‘From time to time.