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END OF DAY We pass the cows on their way to the milking shed and the farmer's easing hands. Frogs are gladly chorusing like little gibbons in the dark reeds by the soak. We cross the fallow paddock to a stand of trees surrounded by burnt bracken. The fire has found a refuge in the deep hollow at the base of a dead tree. In the absence of rabbits I slip back the bolt and lay the rifle ...