120 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 



impetus to our men, who grew quite lively, game for 

 anything, as they chanted invitations to imaginary 

 animals to come and be shot. All the song was of the 

 " Dilly, Dilly, come and get killed " pattern, and was 

 for the most part addressed to a rhinoceros who lived 

 in fancy. " Wiyil, Wiyil, Mem-sahib calls you," was the 

 bed-rock of the anthem, and like our home-made 

 variety one sentence had to go a long way. 



We found a track made by tortoises innumerable who 

 evidently marched in solid phalanx to the water-holes. 

 We followed the trail for a long way, but it seemed to 

 be taking us to a Never-never land, so we turned, giving 

 up the idea of discovering the source of the path. But 

 in a tiny lake, as big as a bath and as shallow, we came 

 on three tortoises swimming. They drew in their ugly 

 snake-like heads with a sideway motion beneath their 

 armour-plate residence, and there was nothing left 

 to see but a flat, dirty, yellow carapace. They were 

 quite small, and we pulled one out with a deft noose 

 thrown by the second hunter. Each man took off 

 his turned-up sandals and rested one bare foot at a 

 time on the shelly back, " to make strong the feet." 

 They did this very solemnly, and, of course, in turns, 

 mounting their ponies when the superstitious rite was 

 well over. 



We saw a very immature gereniik standing on his 

 hind legs to feed on the young tops of a thorn bush. 

 It went off at a crouching trot, stopping after a short 

 run to turn and stare. It even returned a few paces, 

 with unparalleled impudence, to gaze. It was a young- 

 ster of last season. The gereniik mother is not the 



