190 
ALMOST HUMAN 
seemed to regard him as pleasant company for a siesta in his cubicle. 
They were this time inside so long that Mr. Wilkie feared the camel had 
resorted to the usual tactics of the camel tribe and was lying upon his 
vanquished foe to smother him, but investigation proved that they were 
lying side by side, although the goat was so tightly squeezed up against 
the wall that he could not extricate himself. The camel was happily 
ruminating beside him. When it was seen that the camel had no inten- 
tion of doing more than teaching the trespasser a lesson, they were left 
together over-night. Next morning the staff was highly amused to find 
that the goat had managed somehow to get back to his own quarters, and 
the camel was watching him philosophically from across the fence. 
The goat never roamed again. 
BILLY BINDON. 
When Mr. Wilkie was a lad one of his duties was to watch over a 
fine flock of more than 350 Angora goats belonging to the gardens. In 
those days a Billy was worth about £20, and a Nanny about £10. Their 
fleeces brought at least 4/- per pound, and a good one would weigh 
between four and five pounds. The animals were housed in a great shed 
in the Royal Park, and were let out to graze first thing every morning. 
As soon as the gate was opened the first to get away was a fine male 
known as Billy Bindon, because he had been bought from Judge Bindon. 
The last to go was a magnificent one that stood fully three feet high. 
He waited till his young master was free to come too. As soon as all 
the rest were following Billy Bindon for their lives, the boy would leap 
on the last one’s back, and ride off after the flock as if he were mounted 
on a pony, the goat as happy to be ridden as the boy to mount him. 
Near the site of the Royal Park station was an old powder magazine, 
and it was guarded by eight soldiers under a sergeant and corporal, to 
say nothing of the cook. The guard-room was an old galvanised iron 
structure, with a big table in the centre as its chief item of furniture, 
and the arms of the guard were piled just outside in readiness for the 
emergency which never occurred. Behind this room was the commis- 
sariat department where cook reigned supreme, and which held the joys 
or miseries of the entire platoon according to the whim of the most 
important member of the unit. Each man brought his own share of 
the rations for the day. They had a fixed round of meals, and they 
knew by the day of the week whether it was corned-beef-and-cabbage 
day, or Irish-stew day, or fish-and-chips day, and each man brought his 
quota of the ingredients needed to make the delectable whole. The day 
when the history of this story was made happened to be Irish-stew day. 
