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Authors: Dick King-Smith

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Later, the curator of the zoo called. He and the Earl were old friends, but still there was an edge to his voice as he said, “You've nabbed my Bactrian camel!”
“I haven't nabbed him,” said Lord Basin. “He wasn't invited here; he's just a gate-crasher.”
“You can say that again,” remarked the curator. “It's going to cost us thousands to repair the damage.”
The Earl pulled at his beard thoughtfully.
“Look,” he said. “I'll pay for the damage.”
“Really? That's very good of you.”
“On one condition.”
“What's that?”
“You let me keep him.”
There was a pause, and then the curator said, “It's an idea. But I think we'd need a bit of icing on the cake. What can you offer in return for him?”
“A zebra?”
“Oh, no.”
“A giraffe?”
“No.”
“How about a white tiger?” said Lord Basin.
“It's a deal!”
“Good. By the way, what's the camel's name?”
“Hezekiah.”
The Earl of Basin went to bed that night in a daze of happiness. He was fond of animals in general, but the one that had stuck in his memory all those years was that old Bactrian camel on which he'd ridden at the zoo. And now he actually owned one!
He stroked his beard as he settled himself for sleep. And it's a very hairy beast too, he thought.
 
 
While Hezekiah had been kneeling below the steps to the front entrance of Shortseat, two of the park rangers had put a rope over his neck, one on either side. They prepared themselves for what they imagined would be quite a tussle when the camel got to his feet. But Hezekiah stood quite quietly, gazing at them with eyes as mild as an old Holstein cow. He did make a lot of rumbling noises, though of course they couldn't understand what he was saying.
“Now look, you chaps,” he said. “I've come a heck of a long way today and I could do with a good night's sleep.”
Which is just what he got, for the rangers decided not to turn him out into one of the enclosures, but to put him, for the time being, in a nice warm old shed that was sometimes used to house sick beasts.
After letting him drink his fill from a water trough, they made him a good bed of straw, and gave him a helping of hay and some interesting roots he'd never seen before. It didn't take long for Hezekiah to decide that he liked mangel-wurzels, and he polished them all off. Then, with a long sigh of content, he fell into a deep sleep.
He slept so well and dreamlessly that the next thing he knew it was morning. Someone opened the door of the shed and came in. He looked at
the man's hairy face and recognized him as the person who had stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in strange clothes.
Lord Basin had risen early and hurried out, still in his nightclothes. He wore pajamas and a dressing gown and slippers, all very brightly colored. On his head was a brilliant red woolly nightcap.
“Hezekiah!” he cried.
This was in fact the only word of human language that the camel knew, so often had he heard it. He recognized it as his name. He got to his feet and moved a pace or two toward the Earl. They looked into each other's eyes, and perhaps
because each was so hairy, both felt that they were kindred spirits and had become—and would always continue to be—best friends.
“I expect you'd like to stretch your legs,” said Lord Basin. “It's a bit cramped for you in this old shed. Though you can always come back in here to sleep if you like.”
In reply he heard the camel make a number of grunty, growly noises. “Any chance I could stretch my legs?” Hezekiah was saying. “This old shed's not all that big. Though I wouldn't mind coming back in here at night.”
The Earl of Basin put out a hand to his Bactrian camel. Something told him that the animal would not bite his hand, and indeed Hezekiah did not. He merely touched it gently with his thick rubbery lips in a kind of kiss.
After Lord Basin had left the shed to begin the important business of dressing up for the day, the rangers came in to get the camel. They led him along one of the park's roads to a very large enclosure, a hundred times bigger than his old zoo paddock.
They opened a gate and let him loose inside,
but stayed to watch and make sure there would be no trouble with the other animals in there. They didn't expect any fuss, but as well as biting, zebras can kick, and so can ostriches, and so can giraffes.
The rangers watched as the other animals moved toward the camel, curious about this hairy beast that carried two humps on its back. They formed a circle around the newcomer. Hezekiah stood patiently among them, and the rangers, satisfied, moved off.
There were zebras at the zoo—the camel had seen them from his paddock but he had never before set eyes on a giraffe or an ostrich.
“A very good morning to you all,” he said (for politeness costs nothing), “and I hope you'll forgive me for trespassing. It's a pleasure to meet you all and before you ask, I'm a Bactrian camel.”
At this, one of the zebras in the little herd hee-hawed
loudly and one of the three ostriches gave out a deep booming noise. Neither of the two giraffes made a sound.
Then the zebra who had neighed said, “Hope you're a vegetarian, mate.”
“Certainly I am. Camels don't eat meat.”
“Good,” said the zebra. “If there's one thing we can't stand, it's a carnivore.”
“And we've got plenty of them in Shortseat,” said another, “as I expect you know.”
“Blasted lions!” said a third.
“I thought I heard one just as I arrived yesterday,” said Hezekiah.
“There are dozens of the horrible things,” said the first zebra.
“Safely fenced in, I trust?”
“Oh, yes,” said an ostrich. “We can't see them but we can hear them.”
“And smell ‘em,” said the first zebra.
One of the two giraffes curved its very long neck down as though to smell the camel, but it said nothing.
It seemed to Hezekiah to be waiting for him to speak, so he asked it, “Do you like living here?”
There was no reply.
“You won't get a word out of him, mate,” the zebras said.
“Why not?”
“They can't talk, giraffes can't.”
“A female can make a sort of noise to call her calf,” an ostrich said, “but they can't speak like we can. Anyway, the answer to your question is—yes, we all like living here. We've got plenty of freedom and friends and food.”
“And no foes,” chorused the zebras.
In the distance, a lion roared.
“Like him,” boomed the ostrich.
The sound of the lion seemed
to excite all the animals. The zebras hee-hawed rudely in reply and set off at a gallop, the ostriches sped away at great speed on their powerful legs that ended in huge two-toed feet, and the two giraffes cantered off gracefully together, in perfect step, like dancers.
Left to himself, Hezekiah walked over to a water trough that stood by the fence and drank a dozen gallons of water. Then he heard the noise of motors and looked up to
see a Land Rover coming up the road toward him. It was followed by a van marked in large letters FILM UNIT (which meant nothing to Hezekiah), and after that came a pickup truck loaded with hay (which meant a lot).
When they drew up by him, there stepped from the Land Rover a bearded figure dressed in riding breeches above bright yellow stockings and suede boots and wearing a cowboy hat.
“Good morning, my friend!” said the camel loudly.
“Feed him!” cried the Earl to the rangers in the pickup truck. To the film crew who emerged from the van he said, “Here he is, chaps! Isn't he magnificent? Did you ever see anything so hairy?”
The director, the cameraman, and the soundman all looked at the camel.
Then they looked at the Earl.
Then they looked at one another.
Then they replied, “No. Never.”

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