116 MY SOMALI BOOK 



dash for the foot of the tree was too late — and the 

 leopard dmed. 



Such was the tale writ in the sandy soil, as inter- 

 preted by Abdilleh ; and indeed much of it was to be 

 read easily enough even by me when once it had been 

 expounded, though my eye was too unpractised to do 

 more by itself than spell out a word here and there. 



There was a promising area of durr grass close by 

 in which we thought the leopard might be spending 

 the day, but it could not be beaten by three men, so 

 I had it fired, taking up my post in the open beyond a 

 sapling which afforded but a poor pretence of con- 

 cealment. The grass burned on till there was but a 

 small patch left : from this there emerged a spotted 

 beast indeed, but no leopard ; it was one of the hysenas 

 that had had to go hungry last night. It stood and 

 looked all round, then started straight towards me at a 

 slouching trot. My first thought was not to shoot 

 for fear of disturbing the leopard ; my second, that 

 the leopard certainly was not there and the killing of 

 a wardha was a plain dut}^ But a third thought 

 followed in time to save him. 



I was standing motionless against the little tree- 

 trunk, my gun by my side in the shade ; proving once 

 again, if proof were needed, that the only way to avoid 

 notice in the jungle is to keep still ; for though I was 

 entirely unconcealed it was not until he was within 

 four yards of me that, as I tightened the grip of my 

 rifle hand, the eyes of the beast met mine. He half 

 threw himself back on his haunches, the short ears 

 flattening, and for one long second we stared at each 

 other, then with a peculiar little grunt of uneasiness 



