Table of Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One: Excitement on the Farm

Chapter Two: Time for a Haircut

Chapter Three: Off to the Fair

Chapter Four: The First Round

Chapter Five: A Very Bad Feeling

Chapter Six: Missing!

Chapter Seven: The Big Rescue

Chapter Eight: Wanderers Returned

Chapter Nine: Final Performance

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Copyright

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armer Palmer’s prize-winning llamas were getting excited. His prize-winning sheep and lambs were feeling pretty bouncy too. In fact, there hadn’t been so much excitement on the farm since the farmer picked a new Guard Llama to protect his flock of sheep and, to everyone’s amazement, chose Lewie.

Lewie was not the obvious choice, not by any means. The farmer’s previous Guard Llama, Livingstone, had been so tough he’d been nicknamed The Terminator. Even compared to his older brothers, Leo and Lamar, and his tough sister, Latisha, Lewie seemed … giddy, dizzy, a bit of a joke, really.

It was certainly true that Lewie was no ordinary llama. Other llamas didn’t spend their days singing … and dancing … and acting! Even his parents, Mama and Papa Llama, had to admit that Lewie was a bit of a Drama Llama.

As a Guard Llama, though, Lewie had surprised everyone. He’d won over the sheep, dazzled the new lambs with his talents and tricks and, when the coyotes attacked, he’d bravely protected the whole flock.

But that was old news now. The present cause of excitement was the forthcoming County Fair. Every year, farmers throughout the entire state took their best animals to compete for the top prizes. Farmer Palmer’s llamas had always done well and he was hopeful that this year they’d do even better.

All the animals were talking about it, especially Lewie’s eldest brother, Leo. He had won various prizes in the past, including Strongest Llama. This year Leo had his eye on the top prize. The judges’ choice … their pick of the winners … the crown of crowns …

“Best Llama in Show,” Leo boasted. “That cup has my name on it. Who’s the greatest?” he chanted, and then answered his own question. “Leo’s the greatest. Oh – yes – I – am!”

“You wish!” his brother Lamar snorted right into Leo’s face. “Bigger you may be, but best …? Never! Not while Lamar’s around.” Lamar shook his stylish topknot out of his eyes, then turned to wink at an admiring group of female llamas. The girls often followed him about. He was their favourite all right. Lamar would have scooped all the prizes if the voting were left to them.

Latisha chewed on a long piece of grass as she watched her brothers argue. “Tchhh!” she said as she spat it out. “The only prize you two are likely to win is Most Boring Llama in the World.”

Liberty, one of their other sisters, honked with laughter, but Leo and Lamar nudged her backwards. “No one asked your opinion,” they brayed.

“Don’t stand any nonsense from those two,” Latisha told her. “They’re all hot air and bad breath.”

Lamar gasped, releasing a stream of air that had Leo reeling and groaning as if he’d been poisoned. Lamar, embarrassed, looked around for some clover to chew, hoping it might sweeten his breath a little.

Unlike the others, Liberty had never been to the County Fair before. “What’s it like?” she asked.

“A-ma-zing!” Leo told her. “Only the very best animals get picked to go.”

“The crowds are huge,” Lamar added, “and everyone is looking at yours truly!”

“All you need to know,” Latisha snapped, “is that you’d better not get up to your usual disappearing tricks or Farmer Palmer will go ba-llistic.”

Like her twin brother, Lewie, Liberty had her own special talent. She was an escape artist extraordinaire. In fact, there had never been a fence yet that could keep Liberty in.

When Mama Llama heard Latisha’s words, she sighed, shaking her head sadly. “If Farmer Palmer can’t keep Liberty safely enclosed here on the farm, how will he manage it at the County Fair?” she asked her husband anxiously. “And if he doesn’t, we may never see her again.”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” replied Papa Llama. “Lewie will keep his eye on her.”

At the very thought of Lewie, Mama Llama relaxed. It was such a welcome change not to have to worry about Lewie any more. Far from it, both Mama and Papa Llama were now pinning their hopes on him being awarded the other top prize: Best Guard Llama. This was an achievement not even The Terminator had managed. This and Best Llama in Show were the two prizes the farmer had never won. So he was very keen to snatch both from under the nose of his arch-rival, Farmer Hardman. This year, with Lewie, Farmer Palmer had begun to believe that he might at least manage to win Best Guard Llama.

Leo, Lamar and Latisha would have brayed with laughter at the very thought. But it wasn’t so far-fetched. The prize involved obedience and agility tests that would demonstrate how well the Guard Llama could manage his flock. Surely, after all the performing that the sheep and lambs had done under Lewie’s supervision, they were fit enough, and skilled enough, to see off any competition. Lewie badly wanted to win the prize, mostly to show Farmer Palmer that he’d made the right choice in him. But Lewie knew better than to get his hopes up. As he often told his flock: “There’s no substitute for hard work and constant practice.”

So, in preparation, Lewie had worked out strict training programmes for both the sheep and the lambs. Sadly, things weren’t exactly going to plan and Lewie partly blamed himself.

When he’d first met his flock he’d been surprised by the way they always copied each other. They repeated what all the others said as if they hadn’t an individual thought in their heads – apart from Ginger. But then Ginger was different in every way. As well as being bigger than all the other sheep, Ginger had opinions – lots of them – and she wasn’t afraid to express them. But the rest were just regular sheep. It was in their nature to follow and copy one another, to be … well … sheep-like.

Then Lewie had decided to stage a big variety show, and everything changed. When they performed, the sheep and the lambs showed that they were individuals after all. They had completely different talents and personalities, which was the very problem now.

As they practised the obedience tasks, most of the sheep suddenly had their own ideas and were determined to be heard.

“No, no, no. This is the bit where we turn right,” said Ginger bossily.

“I think you’ll find it was left,” argued Sheila.

“It was straight on, actually,” shouted Shula.

“I think we should do a reverse turn here,” suggested Shona.

“I’ve got a better idea,” volunteered Shirley as she demonstrated a series of sidesteps and shimmies. “Rubbish!” snapped Shelley. “I’m not doing that.”

It was as if the sheep had forgotten how to work as a team, how to be obedient. Lewie shook his head and wished his sheep could be more … well … sheep-like.

Things weren’t much better with the lambs, either. Although Shep, Shoo, Shane, Sheba, Shah and Bertie were still happy to do exactly as Lewie told them, their problem was trying too hard. And controlling their nerves. Just the thought of the County Fair had the lambs’ legs turning to jelly.

With lots of encouragement from Lewie, the lambs managed to complete most of their routines, until it came to their famous Lamb Pyramid. This relied on perfect timing and balance, and the lambs had always been able to perform it well.

But suddenly, now, each time Shoo scrambled up to complete the pyramid, Bertie, who was on the bottom, got a case of the wobbles. Then the whole pyramid collapsed and disappeared into a giggling, woolly heap.

“Whoops-a-daisy!” squealed Shoo.

“Somebody’s sitting on my tail!” squeaked Shep.

“Get off my head!” bleated Bertie, who then burst into tears.

Lewie had told Bertie that as he was the biggest and strongest, he was the anchor-lamb. Everything relied on him standing firm. Like his mother, Ginger, Bertie was a tough character. But now, for some reason, he kept losing his nerve. He knew he was letting everyone down.

“I’m so sorry,” he bleated.

The other lambs gathered around Bertie, nudging him gently.

“You’ll be fine. You’ll all be fine. Just keep practising,” Lewie reassured them.

But in truth, with only a week left to the County Fair, Lewie began to wonder how they would ever pull it all together into a prize-winning performance.

Of course, the only person Lewie allowed to hear his doubts was his twin sister, Liberty, who slipped out of the llama enclosure each evening for a bedtime chat. She soon lifted Lewie’s spirits. “You’re unbeatable, Lew,” she told him. “The sheep and lambs are working so hard, and with you leading them no other Guard Llama has a chance of winning.”

Lewie prayed that his sister was right. He thought of everyone whose hopes were pinned on him: Mama and Papa Llama, the farmer and his daughter, Millie, who’d always believed in Lewie. Then there were the sheep and the lambs too …

“You’re just having last-minute nerves,” Liberty told him.

Lewie smiled back. Yes, that’s all it was, just a bit of stage fright. He must keep it to himself. He didn’t want the sheep or the lambs to lose any more confidence.

Lewie started to allow himself to feel a little excited at the thought of their forthcoming adventure. “County Fair, here we come!” he said, grinning.

Not far away, another group of animals was getting excited at the prospect of the County Fair too. It was an important annual event for the local coyotes, who were already gathering from around the county. It was their chance to inspect at close quarters the best, prize-winning livestock in the area. It was a predator’s shop window, a not-to-be-missed opportunity to check out the juiciest, most mouth-watering flock of sheep. Some of the younger, bolder coyotes, confident they’d snatch a tender lamb or two, were arguing over the perfect accompaniment for their lamb chops.

Mint sauce was the simplest and the best, agreed several coyotes.

Others preferred cranberry jelly.

Hot tangy mustard was popular too, and red wine and rosemary relish was favoured by some classier coyotes.

Captain Coyote, who was much older, reminded the youngsters what a risky venture it would be. Farmers weren’t about to allow their best animals to be picked off right under their noses. Far better, in Captain’s view, to do a little window-shopping, then visit the tastiest flock back on its own farm, when security wouldn’t be quite so tight.

“Remember, you young fellas,” said Captain, quoting one of his personal mottos, “He who retreats lives to hunt another day. Yes, siree.”

But these youngsters weren’t interested in retreating, or listening to an old coyote’s words of warning.

“Lost your nerve, Grandpa?” one young hothead, called Clutterbuck, asked him. He liked to think of himself as a budding leader. “You do the babysitting, old fella. Leave the hunting to us.”

“Those of us who’ve still got the nerve for it,” added another scary-looking animal, called Crazycoot, who’d had so many brushes with danger he only had half a tail left.

Captain shook his head, but didn’t argue. They were young and foolish and would have to learn the hard way. His responsibility was to his nephew, Cupcake, to keep the young cub safe.

Against his better judgement, Captain had allowed Cupcake to persuade him to go hunting together once again. After their close shave last time, at Farmer Palmer’s farm, Captain had been reluctant. But Cupcake had finally worn him down.

The truth was, Cupcake wasn’t even interested in hunting, he was just desperate for another glimpse of Lewie and his amazing performing lambs. Of course, he hadn’t admitted that to Captain. It was his little secret.

He smiled at his uncle, who gazed fondly back at him. Captain knew that in Cupcake’s eyes he was the bravest, most fearless coyote in the whole county. He puffed out his chest proudly and reminded himself that not one of these young hotheads could teach him, Captain Cornelius Columbus Coyote, the first thing about hunting sheep. No, siree.

he next day was a big day for Farmer Palmer. In preparation for the County Fair, and because of the hot weather, he’d decided to shear his lambs. His six-year-old daughter, Millie, was helping the farmer to herd them into a small holding pen, where she gave each one a little cuddle in case they felt nervous. After all, none of the lambs had been shorn before. Their mothers, who’d lost their fleeces several times, had told them it was no big deal and that it would soon grow again.

“Just don’t struggle,” Ginger warned Bertie. “Be a big brave boy and it’ll soon be over.”

“So-o-on be-e o-over,” echoed the other sheep.

But the lambs didn’t look reassured and nor did Lewie. He didn’t like the way the farmer was tipping them backwards on to their bottoms, then wedging them between his legs. The sight of Shoo’s little nose anxiously peeping out made Lewie quite cross. In fact, if it had been anyone but Farmer Palmer, Lewie would have given him a hefty kick. Instead, Lewie leaned over the side of the pen to let Farmer Palmer know that he was watching! Millie knew how Lewie must be feeling and gave him a friendly stroke. But it was all over quickly, for Shoo at least. Farmer Palmer turned on the electric clipper and ran it in long, smooth strokes down the length of the lamb’s body. In minutes, Shoo’s little woolly coat fell away in strips, like the peel off a piece of fruit. Shoo wobbled for a moment, pale and naked-looking, before skipping back to his mother. He looked half as big as before the shearing, but otherwise none the worse for his experience.

The farmer pressed on with the rest of the lambs. If there’d been a zip fastener down the front of each, he couldn’t have taken off their coats much faster. By lunchtime the field was dotted with tiny little pale-pink creatures running around almost in their underwear.

Lewie felt a little sad at how different his lambs looked. But the lambs quickly discovered one advantage. They were so much lighter on their feet now, even faster and more agile than before. They found doing somersaults, and forward and backward rolls, was twice as easy. They positively bounced around as if their hooves were spring-loaded, sometimes overshooting as if they’d been fired out of a cannon.

Lewie tried to ignore the rude remarks that could be heard coming from the llama enclosure.

“Hey, look at Lewie and his performing pink mice!” shouted Leo.

“Pity he can’t afford costumes for them,” Lamar honked.

Lewie was about to tell off his brothers when he saw Farmer Palmer coming towards him carrying a pair of hand shears.

No way! he thought, backing off. He wasn’t going to the County Fair feeling naked. There was a bit of a chase before Farmer Palmer managed, with a lot of help from Millie, to corner Lewie and to calm him down.

“It’s only a trim,” Millie promised. “Just to smarten you up. It won’t hurt, honestly.”

Lewie didn’t have to like it, but he decided to trust Millie and submit himself to a bit of a haircut.

“With summer coming he’ll be far more comfortable losing some of this heavy fleece,” the farmer told Millie.

But it wasn’t summer quite yet and Lewie could feel the breeze blowing around his legs. He shivered, as much with embarrassment as cold. He could hear the other llamas honking in delight.

“Ewww! Look at Nudie Lewie!” they cried.

But Lewie’s revenge was coming. The farmer next made his way to the llama enclosure to give everyone else a trim …

For Lewie the following week passed far too quickly. The lambs were beginning to look slightly less pink and bare, but despite lots of practice, they were still letting their nerves take over. Sometimes they resembled a box of fireworks, all exploding at the same time – but often in different directions.

It was the same with the sheep. When Lewie took control, they managed to pull together and not argue, but if he left them alone things quickly fell apart.

“You were in the wrong place at the wrong time – again!” Shelley told Shirley.

“You got in my way,” Shirley told Shelley, “with your big hooves.”

“Your big hooves!” Shelley echoed.

“Let’s all take a break, shall we?” Lewie said, trying to calm down the sheep.

“Don’t worry,” Ginger told him, “it’ll all work out. They’re just a bit nervous. You know, in the past, if we got things wrong The Terminator threatened to nip us.”

Nip them? Lewie was horrified to hear this. He relied on the flock following him because they wanted to, not out of fear. But he did sometimes wonder what would happen if they ever decided not to.

That night, Farmer Palmer and Millie checked all the animals and made sure everything and everyone was ready to travel to the County Fair tomorrow. Millie was as excited as the lambs. It would be her first time at the fair too. Farmer Palmer had given her an important job to do: making sure the sheep and lamb pens were kept clean and tidy. There were strict rules about how to look after the animal pens at the fair and Millie was determined to do the job well.

“You’re definitely going to win Best Guard Llama,” she told Lewie.

Lewie wished that he felt as confident about it as Millie. He put his head down so the little girl could reach up to stroke his nose. Lewie so wanted to make her and Farmer Palmer proud of him and his flock.

Over in the llama field, Mama and Papa Llama were giving their older children a few encouraging words for the next day.

“We know you’ll all be a credit to your mama and me,” Papa Llama told them. “Remember that our family has a strong tradition of prize-winning. Your mama and I won Best Breeding Pair for more years than I care to remember. We have every confidence that Lewie will win Best Guard Llama this year and maybe one of you will bring home the other big prize: Best Llama in Show.”

This immediately brought out the competitive streak in Leo, Lamar and Latisha. They each privately promised themselves, in addition to winning their own events, to grab the big prize too. Mama Llama beamed at her children, but then gave Liberty a pleading look.

Liberty felt a twinge of guilt. She hated to upset her mama, but a girl had to do what a girl had to do – and escaping was in her blood. Surely Mama Llama must have known that all those years ago, or why would she have given her daughter a name that means freedom?

Later, when Liberty slipped out of the llama enclosure to see Lewie, she found him still feeling a little anxious.

“It’s just cold feet,” she reminded him.

Even if it were just cold feet, Lewie didn’t want to feel like this for days to come. The Best Guard Llama event wouldn’t be held until Saturday – the last day of the fair. That was five days away. Lewie loved his flock and he had faith in them, but if the sheep didn’t start working together soon, and if the lambs did not conquer their nerves, he really couldn’t see how they would ever win the prize.

For Lewie, who loved to perform and had always thrived on it, this felt like the most important performance of his life.

At that moment, unbeknown to him, Lewie was being discussed around the coyotes’ campfire. Not that any of the coyotes had met Lewie yet, apart from Captain and his nephew, Cupcake. And Captain still felt uneasy when he remembered his past experience with Lewie, so he was keeping quiet on the subject.

The conversation had started with a general discussion about the famous Guard Llamas in the county. Certain names were mentioned, like the mighty Hadrian, Farmer Hardman’s Guard Llama. Hadrian was a huge, powerful animal – and pretty fierce. Coyotes for miles around knew to give him a wide berth.

“He snapped my old dad’s tail clean off,” Clutterbuck told the others as the coyotes shared stories of encounters with Hadrian and other Guard Llamas like him.

Crazycoot had lost half his tail too, but that had been shot off by Farmer Blunkett’s gun. His Guard Llama, Blunderbuss, might be getting old, but he was another llama the coyotes tried to avoid.

Clutterbuck asked if anyone had had a run-in yet with Farmer Palmer’s new one. But the coyotes shook their heads.

“Well, he won’t be as fierce as The Terminator, that’s for certain,” Clutterbuck said firmly.

And everyone agreed.

“Don’t be too sure about that,” Captain muttered. The coyotes looked up, expecting more information, but Captain went quiet.

“What’s up? Llama got your tongue?” laughed Clutterbuck.

“Yeah, got the jitters, Grandpa?” asked Crazycoot nastily. “Don’t worry, you stay back behind us. We’ll protect you, won’t we, lads?”

The younger ones laughed openly at the old coyote.

Captain took a deep breath and counted to ten. Let them laugh at him all they liked. He who laughs last, he reminded himself, laughs longest. Yes, siree.

n Wednesday morning, as dawn was breaking, Farmer Palmer began to load his animals for the much anticipated County Fair. Truck by truck they set off in convoy. Mama and Papa Llama watched them go.

Mama Llama’s chest swelled with emotion: partly pride, but a little envy too. She wished she could have gone and seen her children take part in their events. But she had to accept that her own and Papa Llama’s show days were over.

By mid-morning all the animals were in their pens at the County Fair. A chorus of bleating and baaa-ing and braying and honking could be heard as a huge wave of excitement spread throughout the livestock yard.

Lewie was relieved to see that he wasn’t housed too far away from his family although, as Guard Llama, he was on the opposite side of the yard with all the other Guard Llamas, each with his own flock of sheep.

In the next pen, Lewie was rather nervous to see a huge, powerfully built llama who looked much older than him. Lewie bravely tried to introduce himself. “Hello, my name’s Lewie …” he began. But the big llama lifted his nose and turned away, refusing even to acknowledge him. Lewie felt a little crushed.

Throughout the morning, the llama continued to ignore Lewie, although he talked happily to the two llamas on his other side. They were clearly all old friends. Lewie soon discovered that the huge llama was called Hadrian, but his nickname was The Wall

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