190 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 



nice to do a long forced march and put some miles 

 between our two encampments. Somehow, we couldn't 

 fraternise. And that beautiful sentence, without which 

 no suburban friendship is ever cemented — " Now 

 you've found your way here, you must be sure to come 

 again " — was quite useless to be spoken. In Suburbia 

 that formula is a solemn rite, never disregarded in the 

 formation of a friendship. You might as well forget 

 to ask "Is your tea agreeable?" at an "At-Home" 

 day. But in Somaliland you had friendship offered 

 so differently, if indeed it was offered at all. It came 

 in the guise of a dirty ham of camel's milk, microbial 

 and miasmatic, or in the person of a warlike goat, 

 who with no mauvaise-honte is willing to take the 

 whole caravan to his horns, or in cases of overwhelm- 

 ing friendliness a sheep may be presented, with no 

 thought of return. We were rarely privileged to reach 

 this giddy height — too stand-offish, I conclude. 



We did a stalk about this time that amused us very 

 much. We went out alone on our ponies, and came 

 on a couple of oryx in a plot of country interspersed 

 with light cover of mimosa and thorn bushes, who 

 winded us and were off immediately. They did not 

 run very far, but inquisitively turned to stare back, 

 standing close together. They were considerably out 

 of range. We separated, and Cecily rode off, so that 

 finally we two and the oryx formed the points of a 

 triangle. A nomadic Somali came riding up, the 

 wind blowing away from him screened his approach, 

 but presently the oryx caught sight of this new appari- 

 tion and back my way they raced. As they came level 



