Hearing footsteps behind him, Warren looked around and said, “Black wolf!   Black wolf!”   Halting the smile, which had started to form on Brian’s lips at the sight of his brother, a giant of a man, dressed in white pyjamas covered with Disney cartoon characters.

“Stay here!” warned Brian pushing past Warren.   Then, seeing a flurry of activity in the distance, he added, “No matter what happens, stay in the house.”

*      *      *

At the dog yard the sight of their six red Kelpies gutted and torn limb-from-limb sickened Brian.   But more shocking was the sight of the field beyond, which was awash in blood and entrails: the remains of the station’s one-hundred odd Merino sheep, torn to pieces by the pack of dingoes, which stood noisily gulping down flesh and wool, unaware of Brian’s approach.

‘You bastards!’ thought Brian.   He was careful not to articulate the thought for fear of alerting the wild dogs before he had time to raise his shotgun.

Taking careful aim at a dingo ten metres away, Brian hesitated for a second to allow his hands to stop shaking from rage.   Then, calmer, he slowly pressed the gun’s triggers, firing both barrels at once.

In the silent night the shotgun blast sounded like a cannon shot and at such close range the buckshot did almost as much damage to the yellow dog.

At the sound of the blast, the dog pack looked up in alarm.   Two of the dingoes turned and raced toward the forest, a quarter of a kilometre away.   But after the previous night’s cowardly retreat, their leader had savagely punished the pack, so most of the wild dogs knew to stand their ground this time.

Breaking open his shotgun, Brian dropped the empty cartridge cases onto the grass and reached into his coat pocket for two more shells.   Before he could reload, though, the tiger-striped dog gave its coyote-like howl and the remaining dingoes leapt forward.

Expecting the wild dogs to flee at the sound of the gunshot, Brian was caught off guard by the attack.   He dropped one cartridge onto the grass, but managed to load the second shell into the shotgun before the yellow dogs reached him.   Snapping the gun shut, he fired at the advancing pack, killing one dog and wounding two others, which fell back to lick their wounds.   But in seconds the remaining dingoes had swarmed upon him, taking Brian to the ground.