Though thoroughly fictionalised in its details, the story has a kernel of historical fact in the life of bushranger Jessie Hickman, born in 1890. Collins’s heroine, Jessie, a convicted horse thief, has been released into the custody of a horse dealer, Fitz. He is a far worse criminal than she; he not only compels her to steal horses, but also forces her into a violent, deeply undesired marriage. As the novel begins, Jessie has given birth to a premature baby after killing Fitz and burning his body along with his house. Clearly it will be difficult to take this fragile child with her as she escapes, and perhaps its chances of survival are slim anyway. But the bond between mother and child cannot be broken so easily, even after she resorts to violence. This baby ‘should not have seen the sky turn pink or the day seep in. I should not have seen my mother’s pale arms sweep out and heap wet earth upon me or the white birds fan out over her head. But I did.’ And this omniscient creature proceeds to narrate the whole of the ensuing adventure, complete with back-story. Preposterous, but it works superbly.