TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 295 



way cleft in the side of the ravine above us, the dis- 

 lodged stones raining about our ears. Graceful alert 

 creatures, but of course barred to us, and not only 

 by reason of the red tape that ties them up. I cannot 

 think a wild ass is an allowable trophy. I should for 

 ever apologise if I had one. So — we saw them vanish 

 in a cloud of dust. We saw a klipspringer as we turned 

 a little curving piece of rock. I fired, and missed. 

 Most unfortunately, as the shot was called through 

 every ravine by every echo. 



As we were silently standing gazing across a 

 lovely valley a couple of wart-hog sows with immense 

 families ran among the aloes. Cecily dashed after 

 them, and into them, separating the little band. 

 Laughing heartily, she pursued one agile mite, and 

 almost cornered it. The sow turned viciously and 

 charged head down. I shouted to the venturesome 

 Cecily, but she saw the danger as soon as I, and made 

 for an aloe stronghold. The baby pig with little 

 grunts and squeals ran to its mother, who gave up the 

 idea of punishing us for our temerity in waylaying her, 

 and trotted back to her litter, all scuttling away in the 

 tangle of jungly places. We laughed at the comical 

 sight they presented, and then began to lunch off a 

 bit of their relation. 



The air made us drowsy, and I think we slept 

 awhile. The bark of a koodoo wakened us, and we 

 started up all alert. Two small does crossed the 

 ravine lower down, but were gone in the fraction of a 

 second. It was a stiff climb back, and as I made a 

 detour round a jutting peak of rock I caught a glimpse 



