TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 103 



Our pony shied — actually pretending to possess nerves 

 — at a porcupine, who suddenly rustled his quills like 

 the upsetting of a box of pens. The oryx head fell off, 

 and the mettlesome steed backed on to it, damaging 

 the horn near the tip against a sharp stone. A small 

 kink, but a pity. Cecily made the pony walk up to our 

 friend of the quills, but as it seemed likely to result in 

 the wolf being chucked off also, we abandoned horse- 

 training notions for the present. 



Getting back to camp, we found the men lining up 

 for their devotions, so waited patiently until they were 

 over. Everybody's creed, or form of it, should be 

 respected, because each separate religion, multitu- 

 dinous though they are, is but one religion, and a part 

 of the vast whole. The seeming difference in all sects 

 are merely the individual temperamental superstitions. 

 It does not matter, therefore, if we worship Allah or 

 Joss, Buddha or Mrs. Eddy. " What's in a name ? 

 That which we call a rose by any other name would 

 smell as sweet." To certain people certain names for 

 religion are necessary — to others the " Religion 

 Universal " serves. Now, our chef belonged to — I am 

 sure — the Peculiar People, and didn't know it, and 

 called himself a Mussulman of the Shafai sect. He 

 must have been peculiar to think he deceived us into 

 believing he was a cook, ever had been, or ever would 

 be. Some people are born cooks, some achieve 

 cooking, and some have cooking thrust upon them. 

 Our satellite was of the latter kind. 



We bought a couple of sheep that night from a 

 passing caravan, but told the men they would be the 



