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the cyclone shutters.’
    They came back inside fifteen minutes later, soaked to the skin from the driving rain that had blasted them as they lowered the heavy shutters and secured them against the windows.
    ‘Should’ve done that earlier,’ said Mac, shrugging off his wet shirt and drying himself with a towel. ‘But I didn’t think we’d need to go as far as dropping the shutters. I hope nothing else is damaged.’
    Sarah made mugs of hot chocolate, and everyone sat close together in the living room, reading or playing cards, but not talking much because it was next to impossible to hear each other – the thunder was too loud. It rolled and rumbled and cracked without ceasing for over an hour, and lightning struck close by a few more times. Fierce, howling winds kept the house shiveringand rattling until gradually the storm moved on and the sound of steady rain on the metal roof was all that remained.
     
    Sam and George woke early the next morning. It was barely daylight, but they were anxious to see what damage had occurred during the night, and Sam was worried about the horses. They left the house before anyone else was up, and ran over to the horse paddock. The ground was littered with broken branches and leaves, and the surrounding bush had a decidedly battered look about it. The fences appeared to be okay, as far as they could see, but the horses were huddled in the middle of the paddock looking skittish and nervous. Sam called to them, and his mare, Holly, threw her head up and trotted over to him. The others followed her but they danced around, edgy and upset.
    ‘They’ve really had a fright, haven’t they?’ said Sam as he climbed through the fence to pat Holly and her little foal. He ran his hands over her neck and legs, and turned to look at the others. They all seemed fine, but Sabre, the big bay gelding, had a nasty gash on his front nearside leg. He stood apart from the others, shivers rippling down his skin from time to time.
    ‘Oh no, poor Sabre,’ said George. ‘Is it very bad?’
    ‘Looks pretty bad to me. It might need stitching.’ He moved towards the gelding, but Sabre rolled his eyes and stepped away. Sam spoke gently to him and moved closer, and the big bay horse quietened down and let Sam rub his neck and back while he had a closer look at the wound.
    ‘Let’s go and tell Dad. I hope the guinea pigs are okay. Hey, maybe the schoolroom blew away – let’s check it out.’
    George’s guinea pigs were inside the hay shed near the horse paddock, and proved to be none the worse for the night’s excitement. As they rounded the machinery shed and walked back to the house via the schoolroom, both boys stopped in amazement.
    ‘Oh my God,’ breathed George. ‘He heard my prayers …’
    The schoolroom caravan was still in the same place, but it didn’t look the same. The huge African mahogany which shaded it for most of the day had fallen down, completely crushing the van. It was totally destroyed.
    The schoolroom turned out to be the worst casualty of the storm. Sabre needed five stitches, which Mac put in with Sam’s help, and apart from several shattered trees and a lot of fallen branches, the homestead area was in good shape. The kitchen window would have to be repaired, but otherwise the house itself was undamaged.
    ‘Well,’ said Mac at breakfast, after they had all surveyed the effects of the storm, ‘looks like you fellers won’t be doing any schoolwork today.’
    George’s face lit up with delight, while Sam tried unsuccessfully to look as mournful as possible about the demise of the caravan.
    ‘Oh, I don’t know, Mac. I’m sure I could find something for them to do.’ Jaz grinned as the boys began to object. ‘Just as well we posted the last of your work off already. You’re all finished for this term anyway.’
    Sarah smiled at them. ‘You can go with Dad to check all the fence lines first, but after that we’ll do something about getting that tree off your