TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 237 



see the hartebeest, the aoul, the flies — there is nothing 

 anywhere but a golden maze of light, and a world of 

 noisy hammers in my ears. 



'Twas nothing, just a mild touch of the sun, and 

 next day Richard was himself again, and out with the 

 second hunter, like a French falconer, prepared to 

 fly at anything. Only we chose towards evening for 

 our hunting. 



Our ponies carried us through most of the dense 

 country, but sometimes we had to get off and seek an 

 easier way round. We saw tracks of all varieties of 

 game, but for an hour or more had the jungle ap- 

 parently to ourselves. We were leading our steeds, 

 when we crossed a great rind, a place where a lion had 

 been lying, may be after some great banquet. The 

 thorns had taken his size and shape like a mould, 

 and his hairs were all about to betray his whilom 

 presence. The hunter spoored about and picked up 

 the lion trail some little way off. The ground being 

 so loose and sandy made no good evidence of time. 

 The pugs might have been made now, or that morning. 

 We went on silently and after not more than five 

 minutes going, with an electric-like shock, I realised 

 that a lion stood over a kill to our immediate front. 

 He winded us, and stretching his great neck and head 

 upwards to sniff in magnificent disregard bounded 

 into the thicket, the tuft on his tail being the last 

 glimpse I caught of him. I was too taken aback 



