98 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 



watched game, after crawling to within fifty yards. 

 On one occasion an aoul and I eyed each other at 

 twenty paces, and so motionless was I he could neither 

 make head nor tail of me. 



The camp was in a turmoil and every camel-man 

 shouting at the top of his voice — the one thing I do 

 object to in Somalis. Their very whispers almost 

 break your ear-drum, and I suppose a loud voice is 

 the result of many centuries of calling over vast 

 spaces. 



Three of the camels, heavily laden, had turned 

 aggressive, bitten several men, and shaken the dust of 

 the place off their feet. Of course, the levanting 

 camels proved to be the ones loaded up with our 

 tents and bedding. They had a very excellent start 

 before anyone thought it necessary to go in pursuit. 

 It was all gross carelessness, as a loaded camel is easy 

 enough to stop if the stopping is done by its own 

 driver. 



There was nothing for us to do in the matter, and 

 supper seemed the main object just then. The cook 

 served us up some soup and broiled chops, and we 

 topped up with some delicious jam out of the useful 

 little pots from the A. and N. Stores, holding enough 

 for a not very greedy person. Cecily voted for black- 

 berry, and I sampled the raspberry. 



Night fell, and still no returning camels. I rode 

 out a little way, but the going was too impossible in 

 the dark. My pony was a gallant little beast, a bit of 

 a stargazer, but I prefer a horse with his heart in the 

 right place, wherever his looks may be. 





