192 
ALMOST HUMAN 
with its fixed bayonet, and was just going to run the goat through when 
restraining hands prevented the outrage. 
The men reasoned with him. 
“You’d never take a gun to him, Mick? Aren’t you good enough to 
tackle a goat with your hands?” 
This quietened Mick down somewhat, and he made no resistance 
when they disarmed him and put the weapon back in its place. 
Quite ready for the fun, the sergeant cried : 
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Mick; I’ll bet you a shilling’s worth of beer 
that the goat will throw you twice out of three times. Are you game 
to take him on?” 
“I will !” at once responded Mick, as he tightened his belt and looked 
at Billy. The goat, seeing him coming with arms at business pitch, at 
■once stood on his hind feet. Mick made his first rush to get a fall, 
and while he was doing it, Billy quietly dropped again on all fours, and 
stepped back a pace or two. This disconcerted the man, and threw 
him quite out of his calculations. He involuntarily bent at a disad- 
vantage, and in an instant Billy had his curling horn around the bowed 
leg, and a slight twist upwards was all that was necessary to send the 
poor cook on his back as clean as a whistle. Roars of laughter greeted 
fall number one, and Billy was so keenly alive to the humor of the situa- 
tion that as he looked around at his admiring friends his eyes seemed to 
be laughing too. Mick was barely on the ground before he was up 
again, and made his second rush without loss of a moment, but Billy 
had dealt with infuriated men so often that he knew the precise second 
to turn that awkward head and use his ju jitsu trick to throw him a second 
time. Up Mick rose like lightning after fall number two, and gamely 
tried to catch Billy’s magnificent horns to get the last throw. But he 
hadn’t a hope. Billy had him down a third time almost before he knew 
he was up. The goat knew this was the end of the day’s performance, 
so he allowed his adversary to rise quietly this time. As poor Mick 
scratched his head he said ruefully: 
“Bad luck to ye, Billy; it’s made for wrastlin’ ye are! Shure, sar- 
gint, he desarves that onion all right, but begorra I don’t know what 
we’ll do for the stew at all at all!” 
The flock was gradually depleted by sales to settlers who wished 
to breed from them, or to improve their stock, so that although the 
numbers in the possession of the Zoological Society finally dwindled 
down to just enough for exhibition purposes, they were not lost to the 
colony. Several noted breeders have magnificent specimens among 
their great flocks, but there can scarcely be another rogue like Billy 
Bindon. 
