20 
ALMOST HUMAN 
period. When one lives in a terrace house his comfort or misery is 
very largely determined by the class ot neighbor he has, and the dingoes 
are agreed that the man next door is not at all a desirable acquaintance. 
Soon after Pete came there to reside, he scooped out a hole in the cement 
foundation holding the iron bars and wire netting composing the barrier 
between himself and the dingoes, not for the purpose of a little friendly 
borrowing, but in order to be able to get hold of their feet if they should 
be foolish enough to come within range of his fingers. To entice them 
into his snare the baboon would go up to the partition, hold his head 
up as high as he could to attract the dogs’ attention to it, and then begin 
a pitiful howling. The dingoes, not at all backward in accepting such 
a challenge, would at once rush up and bark defiance at this tantalising 
creature. But somehow they always discovered that a long, slender 
black hand was creeping through that hole, in time to avoid serious 
consequences — always, that is, for a considerable time; but inevitably 
the day came when one of them was caught off his guard. Master Pete 
had a firm grip on one foot before the warning signal was hoisted, and 
the dog’s sharp barks of anger turned to long-drawn-out wails of pain, 
interspersed with vicious, ineffectual snaps at his persecutor. Pete 
pulled steadily and determinedly at the foot, enjoying the distress of 
his victim. He got the foot further and further through the small 
aperture, and the leg was drawn in almost up to the shoulder — indeed 
the shoulder was almost dislocated in his fierce attempt to get the whole 
dog through, and it is quite possible that it would have been pulled right 
away from its socket had not the injured dog’s cries brought quick relief. 
The pain he suffered, however, was so severe that he was never the 
same kind of fool again. It did not matter what blandishments Pete 
put forward, or how innocent he looked, this dog kept a wary eye directed 
towards that hole henceforth ; and he had a fine reward for his vigilance, 
too. A day came when the long, black hand was seen stealing through 
into his cage in search of a stray foot, but before it could do any mischief, 
or be pulled back out of harm’s way, the dingo had caught it between 
his powerful jaws, and then it was Pete’s turn to lift up his voice and 
weep, and the dog’s to revel in the music. If he did not actually break 
two of the baboon’s fingers he so badly hurt them that they are to this 
day bent and twisted from the injuries received in that encounter. 
Since the time when Pete frisked about his cage shaking his hand 
to get rid of the pain, just as Jacko did over the hot potatoes, that hole 
has been used only on the safest of occasions, and Pete’s form of teasing 
his neighbors has undergone a change. He only provokes them now 
when he wants to attract a crowd. A crowd means a liberal shower of 
peanuts and other dainties, and what else is there for a captive baboon 
