TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 127 



But to return to that joint of mutton we sat down 

 to. I took a whole armoury along with me, but had 

 quite selected my 12-bore as the rifle for the job. I 

 said good-bye to poor disappointed Cecily, thinking 

 how lucky I was to be well and able to set off on this 

 the greatest adventure of all my life. I little thought I 

 was nearing one of its tragedies. As I rode along I felt 

 light-hearted enough to sing. Even the woeful going 

 and the consequent delays did not seriously vex me. 

 The sandy plateaus presently changed to the most 

 impossible thorn, and it became apparent we could get 

 the encumbered camel no farther. The creature could 

 not struggle on through such dense jungle, neither 

 could the ponies. I would hear of no going back, and 

 there was no going round, so I instructed the small 

 caravan to await my reappearance under pain of all 

 sorts of penalties whilst "the Baron," myself, and 

 Clarence pushed and crawled our way in a direction 

 where we confidently hoped to come on rhino. 



I simply held my breath, took a header into the sea 

 of bush before us, and with the ubiquitous Clarence 

 ever and anon carving out a rough path for me with 

 his hunting knife, held on the way. 



The heat was appalling. I can truthfully say I 

 never was so hot in all my life. After about an hour 

 of this, we all suddenly came upon a distinct passage 

 through the jungle, running at right angles, a passage 

 that could hardly be called one, still the way was 

 easier, and it was apparent that, though the brushwood 

 had closed together again more or less, some mighty 

 creatures had passed along. But which way? Spooring 



