TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 247 



only knows why, or where the men had dropped 

 from. With as good grace as we could, and a cup of 

 tea in hand, we went outside the zareba to see a crowd 

 of Somalis, mounted, in the usual lively get-up, khaili 

 tobes, shields, spears, and the other necessaries of 

 performers of the dibaltig. The ponies were so be- 

 tasselled on a bright red band over the eyes, I don't 

 know how they were to see the way at all. One 

 stalwart, the head-man of the party, had decorated his 

 steed with a frill of lions' mane around its neck, fasten- 

 ing in front with a large bunch of yellow ribbons. 

 Very hot and uncomfortable for the pony, but very 

 effective and circus-like. 



" Salaam aleikum," and " Mot ! Mot ! io Mot ! " 

 Then the chorister-in-chief (these dibaltig performances 

 are somewhat like the " waits " at Christmas) began 

 a long song, all — Clarence said — about us, wishing 

 us health, happiness, and many wives. 



" Wives, Clarence ? " 



" So says the song." 



" Then say we can't have wives, because we are not 

 sahibs, and some day we shall be wives ourselves." 



" With luck ! " ejaculated Cecily. 



Clarence translated, and a perfect tremor of excite- 

 ment shook the whole team. The horsemen pressed 

 closer, and gazed at us until their eyes nearly dropped 

 out of their heads. Laughing at the intensity of the 

 inspection, we took our hats off and bowed. Our hair 

 might be considered adequate proof of Mem-sahibdom. 

 Goodness knows what the team considered it. They 

 drew back and talked and jabbered and discussed. 



