Jack Dawkins

The action takes place in Australia in the 1850s.

A dry wind blew dust across the trail as Jack walked toward the settlement. Suddenly he noticed a figure on the side of the road. The person lay motionless, her dress tangled, her hair spread out around her head like a halo. Jack stopped, frowning, and walked toward her, though a voice inside him whispered that it might be a trap.

He came closer and sat down next to her. The girl's face was pale, her breathing was rapid. Jack gently touched her shoulder.

"Hey, my lady," he called softly, "can you hear me? Open your eyes, come on, don't make me disappointed."

When she stirred, he smiled with relief.

• Great, you're alive. That's progress. Just don't try to get up suddenly, or you'll fall over again. Don't hit your head, take my word for it.

Jack checked her pulse, put his hand to her forehead, feeling the heat.

• Look here, beauty, you're clearly not one of those who lie on the ground for no reason. Where is your home? Or will I have to carry you to the nearest hut in my arms?

He carefully placed his bag under her head, making her more comfortable. When the girl opened her eyes and tried to say something, he leaned closer.

• Take your time, breathe. You have a name, right? Or should I just call you "fearless wanderer"?

His slight smile hid his genuine concern. That was just the way he was: seeming ironic, but never passing by those who needed help.