TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 51 



green, his legs yellow, and all else of him shone 

 resplendent. The cook made a bustard stew, and 

 very good it tasted. We did not need to feel selfish, 

 feasting so royally, for birds are not looked on with 

 any favour by Somalis, though they do not refuse to 

 eat them. I think it is because no bird, even an 

 ostrich, can grow big enough to make the meal seem 

 really worth while to a people who, though willing 

 enough to go on short commons if occasion forces, 

 enjoy nothing less than a leg of mutton per man. 



Cecily, lucky person, shot a wart-hog, coming on 

 him just as he was backing in to the little pied-a-terre 

 they make for themselves. She did deserve her luck, 

 for as I was out, and not able to help her, she had to 

 dissect her prize alone. Pig is unclean to the Somali. 

 Even the cook, who claimed to be " all same English," 

 was not English enough for this. We kept the tushes, 

 and ate the rest. The meat was the most palatable of 

 any we had tasted so far. 



I bagged a wandering aoul, not at all a sporting shot. 

 I got the buck in the near fore, and but for its terrible 

 lameness I should never have come up with it at all. 

 His wound, like Mercutio's, sufficed. One might as 

 well try to win the Derby on a cab-horse as come up 

 with even a wounded buck on any of the steeds we 

 possessed. I ambled along, and so slowly that the 

 buck was outstripping the pony. I slipped off then, 

 and running speedily, came within excellent range and 

 put the poor thing out of his pain. His head was the 

 finest of his kind we obtained. 



The horns differ considerably, and I have in my 



