132 MY SOMALI BOOK 



The next thing was to see if we could dig out our 

 quarry : fortunately one of the boys had come out 

 with us, and he carried a short spear, with which some- 

 what inadequate tool we set to work First we sank 

 a shaft about four feet from the entrance ; the depth 

 here was three feet. From this spot the tunnel turned 

 sharp at right angles ; probing with a stick in the new 

 direction, I unquestionably felt a soft yielding body. 

 We then sank another shaft four feet further on and 

 at a depth of three and a half to four feet, I at length 

 got hold of a somewhat bushy striped tail ! more 

 excavating and then a hind-leg with a distinct feeling 

 of life in it, but no more movement than that. How- 

 ever, to make sure, I put a '32 pistol bullet into the 

 leg high up, aiming so that the bullet might, I hoped, 

 rake forward, though of course I could not tell the 

 exact position of the rest of the body ; a quiver in 

 the limb and movement ceased. Then after enlarging 

 the hole a little more, I got a good hold of both hind 

 legs, and lying on my face gave a great tug and out 

 he came. But the moment I swung him clear, a 

 vision of open eyes and open jaws turning in the air 

 as if to try and snap at my bare arm, was a trifle more 

 than I was quite prepared for from a " dead " beast, 

 and I dropped him like the proverbial hot potato ! 

 The moment he touched the ground he was up and 

 away — except for a more foxy head just like a smaller 

 and more tawny edition of a striped hyaena. My 

 Somalis were as much taken by surprise as I was, but 

 recovering themselves, dashed in pursuit. I snatched 

 up a rifle, but could get no chance of a practicable shot. 

 However, I still believed the beggar was moribund 



