TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 69 
He always asked me to give him the weapon from my 
belt about supper-time, and I next saw it in readiness 
for midnight affrays. “ Chota-hazari ” was served us 
by the butler calling loudly outside our tents, or by 
delicately tapping two stones together as an intimation 
that a cup of tea stood on the ground at the entrance, 
when it meant making a long arm to reach it. The 
teacups were not Dresden ; they were of thick enamel 
— we only had one each and two over in case of 
accidents or visitors — and to appreciate them at their 
true value we would have needed the mouths of 
flukes. 
Sometimes a case of necessaries required for break- 
fast would be in our tents doing duty as furniture, and 
then it was very funny indeed. The cook would come 
and chant outside that unless he could have the box 
Mem sahib no breakfast would see, and if Mem-sahib 
no breakfast saw she would upbraid the chef because 
he had not got the box. All this would be woven into 
a little tune in a mixture of Somali, Hindostanee, and 
so-called English. Mem-sahib would chant back to 
the effect that the necessaries would appear all in good 
time. The cook would retire to stir up the fire and 
cuff his assistant, a tow-headed “ youth,” whose raison 
d'etre appeared to be the cleaning, or making worse 
dirty, of the pans, and preparing things for the culi- 
nary artist. The tow-headed one was a mere dauber ; 
at least our cook told us so in effect, with great dis- 
dain, when I suggested the assistant should be allowed 
to try his ’prentice hand. That was one day when I 
got worried about my digestion holding out against 
