armer Palmer’s llamas were famous throughout the whole state of Texas, and beyond. Year after year they won the top prizes at the County Fair. When people asked him, “What’s your secret?” Farmer Palmer always replied, “It’s pretty simple: my llamas are well bred and they’re well fed. And I sure am proud of ’em.”
But he wasn’t half as proud as Mama Llama.
Back at the farm, Mama Llama gazed fondly around the field at her large llama family. She stretched her long neck and twitched her nose with pleasure as she watched her two eldest sons, Leo and Lamar, neck-wrestling again.
“Those boys,” she said proudly to Papa Llama. “Always fighting.”
“Oh, yes,” Papa Llama agreed. “Llamas will be llamas.”
Especially the boys, he might have added. Especially now that Farmer Palmer was about to choose the best and bravest llama to guard his – also prize-winning –flock of sheep, Leo and Lamar were even more determined to prove themselves.
Of all their many children, Papa Llama thought those two were the finest examples. Everything a llama should be: loud, proud and intensely competitive. All the howling and yelping they were doing now was a sure sign those boys meant business.
Leo the Lionheart, as his mother liked to call him, was their eldest. He was a big, brave, dark brown llama and a born leader. At least, that’s what Leo often told himself.
Lamar was piebald grey, and even more handsome. As second eldest, Lamar had always stood in his brother’s shadow. But one of these days he was going to beat Leo and today might just be the day. After all, he was nearly as tall, with slightly longer legs – excellent for kicking. He was putting them to good use right now, trying to knock Leo off balance. As he lashed out, Lamar yelped loudly. If he was going to win, he wanted to make sure everyone in the field was watching.
But it was Leo who took Lamar by surprise, suddenly ramming him with his chest.
Lamar didn’t see that coming.
“Oofff!” he groaned as all the air burst out of him. He stepped back for a moment, slightly winded.
Their sister, Latisha, was standing nearby, watching the boys’ moves.
“Ram him back!” she yelled at Lamar. “Don’t just stand there like a stunned sheep.”
“Who are you calling a sheep?” Lamar yelled back.
“You, you big woolly jumper,” she replied.
And just then, while Lamar was still arguing with his sister, Leo aimed a huge jet of spit in his brother’s direction. It landed smack on top of Lamar’s head, completely flattening his carefully arranged hairstyle.
“Now look what you did!” Lamar yelled. “And after I just washed it!” Leo might be bigger, but Lamar was much more vain. “It wasn’t fair; I wasn’t even looking!”
But Leo was gone, already doing a lap of honour round the perimeter of the field.
“Who’s the greatest? I’m the greatest,” he chanted to himself as he trotted. “Who’s the loser? Lamar’s the loser!”
Leo lost no time in reminding everyone that he was still Top Llama. There was no doubt in his mind now that tomorrow Farmer Palmer would choose him to guard his sheep.
Oh, boy! Leo thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t been born a sheep. Sheep were so stupid and so jittery. Born cowards, in his opinion; sitting targets for any wily wolf or passing prairie dog – or cunning coyote. But that was why they needed a brave and strong llama to guard them – a llama like him.
Hanging out with a flock of silly sheep wasn’t exactly Leo’s idea of fun. But everyone knew it was the Top Job so, obviously, it had his name on it.
“I’ll soon lick them into shape,” he told himself. “I’ll bang a few woolly heads together, if I have to. They’ll quickly learn who’s boss.”
“Who’s the greatest? I’m the greatest,” Leo chanted again.
Lamar watched his brother showing off and it made him spitting mad. “That was all your fault,” he snapped at his sister, determined to blame someone. “If you hadn’t come butting in, I would have—”
“What? What would you have done?” Latisha snapped back. “You’re useless and you know it.
Even I could beat you.
Come on, you wanna try?”
Huh! Lamar could easily beat his sister. She was only a girl, after all, and younger than him by a couple of seasons. But if she were to win – oh, man, he would never hold his neck up high again. Even he had to admit, Latisha was one tough llama. It was possible, in a couple of years, that she might even beat her brothers and, oh, what a terrible day that would be!
No, Lamar couldn’t take that kind of risk. So he pretended he hadn’t heard his sister’s challenge and moved off, looking for a nearby fence post. He rubbed his head against it to clear the spit from his topknot and try to smarten himself up. Lamar might not have beaten Leo today, but he could still be the farmer’s new Guard Llama. After all, size wasn’t everything. He was more athletic than Leo. He had the legs. And looks were important too. Lamar had a much finer profile. Wasn’t that why Mama Llama had given him his second name: Lincoln?