34 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 



stranded. They resided in a tin by my bedside. 

 Kismet overtook him, and his nose was in the jaws of 

 a gin. He was killed instanter, and the cat dropped 

 in to breakfast. 



I helped her to him. 



She commenced on his head, and finished with his 

 tail, a sort of cheese straw. This is curious, because 

 a lion, which is also a cat, begins at the other end. 

 Domesticity reverses the order of a good many things. 



He left no trace behind him. Unknown (except 

 to me) he lived, and uncoffined (unless a cat may be 

 called a coffin) he died. By the way, he was a rat. 



One afternoon Cecily and I walked along the sea 

 coast at Berbera, and came on the most remarkable 

 fish, jumping into the sea from the sandy shore. I 

 asked a resident about this, and he said the fish is 

 called "mud-skipper" — a name that seems to have 

 more point about it than most. 



So, at last, we reached the day fixed for the starting 

 of the great trek. 



