96 TROPIC DAYS 



sweet-tempered mother. He earned his name because 

 of acute dissimilarity to the swiftlet which swoops 

 about the cleared spaces, never resting save in a dark 

 and dirty cave. 



Though, apparently, entirely unself-conscious, Fillo 

 Billaroo at once established himself as a superior sort 

 of creature. He did not exact any rights. They 

 were conceded with all possible grace. He enjoys 

 privileges none other dares to imagine. When he has 

 exhausted for the time being the maternal source of 

 refreshment, he visits other mothers, and with such 

 a pompous, patronising, good-humoured, thoroughly 

 appreciative and yet gentle way, that the absurd 

 creatures are flattered. They realise he is something 

 quite out of the common, and give agreeably of their 

 best. Thus he has become a favourite, and he drinks 

 so much and has become so fat that he could not for 

 a couple of weeks accompany his lazy-pacing mother 

 on her daily rounds, but would be planted in shade 

 and coolness with cautions against straying until called 

 for late in the afternoon. Often would Parilla forget 

 the hiding-place, or rather pretend to, and beseech in 

 wistful tones for help in the search, and when it was 

 successful the greetings she bestowed displayed the 

 bigness of her heart. 



Once the little mother left Fillo Billaroo in charge 

 of Lady Clare, a much more experienced matron, who 

 cannot bear to permit her frisky heifer out of her sight 

 for a moment unless safely planted, and then the 

 treasure must not be wandered from more than a 

 hundred yards. Parilla went off for the day. Late 

 in the afternoon, Lady Clare with her heifer and Fillo 

 Billaroo were found far away from the mob and driven 

 home. It had been hot, and the big calf has an enormous 

 appetite and apparently Lady Clare had been coy. 



