TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 191 



with my pony I blazed at the nearest buck, but as I 

 am no good at all at shooting from the saddle I missed 

 gloriously, and the confused and startled animal fled 

 helter skelter, and dashed headlong into Cecily, who, 

 not ready for the unexpected joust, went flying with 

 the impact. Fortunately oryx carry their heads high 

 when at the gallop, so she wasn't really hurt, only 

 winded. It does take one's breath a bit to be 

 cannonaded into by a flying buck of the size of an 

 oryx. I think this one was the last we saw for some 

 time, as this variety is very scarce in the Mijertain and 

 Haweea country. 



The Somali looked very much astonished, and after 

 remarking a few not understood sentences, took to a 

 course of signalling of which we hadn't the code. We 

 agreed between ourselves that the man meant his karia 

 was " over there," so we windmilled back with our arms 

 to demonstrate we lived "over here," which thoroughly 

 mystified and fogged him. He made things a trifle 

 clearer by pointing to his mouth, and pretending to eat, 

 which could not mean anything but " an invitation to 

 lunch would be acceptable." We nodded benignly and 

 signed to him to follow us, and rode back to camp. 

 He gorged on oryx, like all the rest, and seemed to be 

 about to put himself on the strength of the caravan, 

 dawdling round until later on in the evening. We 

 seemed to act on these wandering spirits like a fly- 

 paper does on flies, but not wanting any more stickers 

 I bade Clarence ask our friend if they wouldn't be 

 missing him at home. And the last I saw of our 

 visitor was his outlined figure, in tattered tobe, riding 



