TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 101 



laming it, causing it to howl terribly, and causing me 

 much shame for my unskilled aim. 



I pursued my quarry, because I could not leave it 

 out wounded, and overtook it just as it fled into a lair 

 of thick adad bushes. Dismounting, I let the pony 

 stand, and going to the bushes I stooped down to peer 

 in, laying my rifle on the sand. A flare of green eyes 

 and snarling teeth, a flat yellow head shot out as a 

 snake strikes. My coat sleeve was gripped in a gin of 

 white fangs, but only the incisors cut into my flesh — 

 caught by the left arm in a flash. Before worse could 

 happen I pulled my shikar pistol from my belt, and in 

 the tussle — for we neither of us took things lying 

 down — the weapon went off anyhow. My enemy sank 

 inert, still gripping my sleeve. He was hit mortally, 

 and died in a moment or two. My arm began to 

 smart a trifle, and I had some difficulty in dragging 

 the wolf-creature from its deep-in lair. It was a wolf, 

 not large — no bigger than a jackal, and much smaller 

 than a hyaena. Its coat was marked with brown, and 

 right down the middle of the back was a fine upstand- 

 ing length of hair that formed a black-tipped mane or 

 ridge. The tail was long and thick, very black on the 

 lower part and very yellow at the upper. The fore 

 feet were five-toed ; I counted them carefully. 



It was a bit of a struggle to lift the carcase across 

 the pony, and I had to walk, holding it on, to the place 

 where I left Cecily. She was watching over the 

 departed oryx, and vultures sat around her wistfully 

 regarding the feast that might have been. In the side 

 of the dead antelope an arrow still stabbed, and marks 



