Jas Gets Her Goat
THE wind howled, lowing cold stinging rain droplets into my face. But even over the sound of the fierce wind I could hear the crack of two feral billies fighting on the hill above me. Their strong, pungent odour carried easily on the wind telling me the rut had well and truly started.
“The mob milled around and a few nice billies were spotted.”
Gathering my rifle and pack I began to head on up towards where the large mob of goats were. As I got closer my movements became slower and
