Josh whispered “found ‘em” as he signalled the direction of the billies we had been searching for. Moments earlier we had just run the gauntlet of what appeared to be 1000 prying eyes scanning side to side looking for a wannabe predator.
The scrub was literally crawling with feral goats of all manner of colours, sex and size as we painstakingly progressed through the thick vegetation to an opening of red dirt littered with weeds and grass. Ever vigilant nannies with their newborns were snorting and sneezing an alarm call whenever they caught our scent but thankfully didn’t alarm any chosen quarry as we closed in.
Finding a log to rest in the shade, I set up my Swarovski spotting scope to take a better look at the trophy-size billies. Zooming into a big boy of particular interest confirmed he was the one we had spotted a day earlier making a speedy dash for safety as our vehicle approached their water point. In the confusion as the mob bolted
