The sun continued to glare.
Tramping over the moor, every footfall raised a puff of dust from brittle heather yet to bloom. On the wide plateau, furrows of ploughed land ran crustily into a blue haze. Afforested hills, patched in green, rose steeply. Forestry rides ran lines of dark shadow through the greenery.
Black soil crumbled under the pressure of a spade. Bowing and lifting, the squad sweated under blue skies. The total of planted Sitka and pine burgeoned. All new targets had been exceeded, and a fresh set of goals was handed down to the Region by Head Office. ‘The mills can barely cope with the amounts of timber we are extracting,’ said a Head Office memo joyously, ‘Keep up the good work!’, and bonuses reached a new height.
A little after six o’clock on a Wednesday evening, the day following the outbreak, the office siren at Polloch began an undulating wail.
George saw men emerge from bothies up and down the row, all hurrying to the office. “Something’s happened,” he said. “Everyone is heading for the huts. We’d better get down there.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, I haven’t finished eating yet,” Blue said angrily. “What’s so bloody urgent?”
Neither George nor Ruairidh replied but began to pull on boots.
“Christ’s sake,” Blue pushed his plate away and got to his feet, joining them in booting up at the doorway. They lifted lightweight anoraks from hooks inside the front door and walked quickly down to the hutments.
A number of green Commission vehicles, just arrived from Strontian, sat with engines running beside the cluster of huts, their drivers standing in a compact little group. There was an unmistakeable urgency of purpose to the scene. The Polloch men had responded to the siren and were gathered round the vehicles. Daylight was fading and Mackinnon addressed them.
“This is an emergency call-out. A heather fire is threatening houses near Acharacle up at the corner of Loch Shiel. You don’t have to come; this is for volunteers. It is a part of the Commission’s Charter to reinforce local services in an emergency…so those who come will be paid overtime,” he paused, smiling. “I know you all want to do it for free…but I must insist. Those that are coming, please get dressed for the occasion. It’s likely we will be late getting back.”
The assembly immediately broke up, men hurrying back to their bothies to don warm clothing against the chill of encroaching night. Blue found himself grinning as he walked quickly back up the slight incline. Dinner would have to wait. Routine had been broken.