n6 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 



Just here Clarence when out spooring, came on an 

 ostrich nest just about to hatch out, and nothing would 

 do but we must go then and there to see it. We 

 penetrated some wait-a-bit and then came on the nest 

 with seven eggs therein. Next we hid ourselves, 

 waited awhile, and had the pleasure of seeing the father 

 ostrich return to the domicile. I don't know where 

 the mother could be. We never sighted her. Perhaps 

 she was an ostrich suffragette and had to attend a 

 meeting. We did not want to go too near the nest, or 

 go too often, but we could not help being very much 

 interested. Our consideration was quite unnecessary. 

 The eggs hatched out, the broken eggs told the tale, 

 but some prowling jackal or hungry hyaena had called 

 when the parents were away and annexed the entire 

 seven. Housekeeping in the jungle has its drawbacks. 

 It must be really difficult to raise a family. 



It was quite strange that Clarence, who was a born 

 shikari, versed in the ways of the wild, and master of 

 the jungle folk, was not at all what I call a safe shot. I 

 never felt that I could depend on his rifle if we got 

 into a tight hole. My uncle says times must have 

 changed, for in their days together Clarence was very 

 reliable with a rifle. But I don't see why a man, so 

 often out in the jungle, should go off as a shot — rather, 

 one would think, would he improve, like grouse, with 

 keeping. 



We did a most amusing stalk one day here. On a 

 Sunday — I know it was a Sunday, because ever since 

 we lost the only almanac we had with us we notched a 

 stick, Crusoe fashion — Cecily and I decided to part 



