CHAPTER IV 



WE MEET KING LEO 



My hour is almost come 



Hamlet 



A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing, for there is not 

 a more fearful wild fowl than your lion living 



Midsummer Night's Dream 



Very shortly after this we came to a Somali karia, or 

 encampment. Its inhabitants were a nomadic crowd, 

 and very friendly, rather too much so, and I had to 

 order Clarence to set a guard over all our things. 



Their own tents were poor, made of camel mats that 

 had seen better days. The Somali women were 

 immensely taken with our fair hair, and still more with 

 our hair-pins. Contrary to the accepted custom of 

 lady travellers, we did not suffer the discomfort of 

 wearing our hair in a plait down our backs. We 

 "did" our hair — mysterious rite — as usual. By the 

 time I had finished my call at the camp my golden hair 

 was hanging down my back. I had given every single 

 hair-pin to the Somali ladies, who received them with 

 as much delight as we should a diamond tiara. 



Married women in Somaliland wear their hair 

 encased in a bag arrangement. Girls plait theirs. 

 The little ones' heads are shaven, and so, apparently, 

 were the scalps of the very old men. Clarence's hair 



