282 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 



with us. We ventured down a perfect abyss clothed 

 at the bottom in aloe jungle. It was most difficult 

 to keep upright at all, and we took some glorious 

 tosses. The worst thing to contend with was the 

 hunter's habit of carrying Cecily's rifle pointing 

 straight at the person who happened to be struggling 

 along in front. It gave me the creeps to watch him. 

 However improbable an accident may be, we know 

 they do happen in the best regulated families. At 

 last, as repeated telling him did no good, we relieved 

 him of his load. He may have had some method in 

 his madness. 



We heard a crackle of the aloes, and two koodoo 

 passed in view, going fairly hard. We hadn't a look 

 in, for they vanished before we realised they were 

 there. We crossed from ravine to ravine, and came 

 on any amount of koodoo spoor, and leopard, the 

 latter some two days old. At last, as we were giving 

 up dispirited, sitting down to recover our breath, a small 

 koodoo bull passed below us, at a distance of some two 

 hundred and thirty yards. It was ridiculous to wait 

 for a slightly improved position, there wouldn't be 

 one, and as meat was very scarce with us these days, 

 I had a try for him. I really aimed in front of the bull, 

 averaging the pace at which he was travelling, and 

 pressed the trigger. It was written in my Kismet book 

 that I might not do freak shots of this kind with 

 success. The koodoo saved his venison, and a sort of 

 groan went up from the greedy hunters. Two hundred 

 yards is really the limit of a sporting shot or chance, 

 and at that distance you cannot make out the animal's 



