TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 
78 
me, a group of some twenty Somali horsemen rode up 
to us, and every one of them closed tight around us 
until all the ponies were wedged like sardines. The 
whole crowd wished to shake hands and welcome us. 
The Somali handshake is not a shake strictly speaking. 
It is a mere pressing of hands, and is prefaced usually 
by the salutation “ Aleikum salaam,” which you reply 
to by reversing the order of it, “ Salaam aleikum.” 
Then generally the interview, if lagging a little, is 
materially assisted by “ Mot ! Mot ! io Mot ! ” (Hail ! 
Hail ! Again Hail ! ) This is a great feature of the 
conversation, and, shouted as only a Somali can shout 
it, is a rousing welcome indeed. 
These friends of ours were the outposts of a vast 
horde of Somalis, for at some wells we saw multitudes 
of camels standing in a sort of lake, quite a good-sized 
piece of water, in a grilling sun. The water was turgid 
and foul, or I should have schemed for a bath out of 
it. Every one came to call, and to inquire what we 
were doing. They crowded round the trophies drying, 
putting their fingers on the skins and then tasting the 
fingers to see what the result was like. They were a 
great nuisance, and we had to trek on again to get 
away from their unwelcome attentions. One of our 
camels fought another as we loaded up. Never did I 
see such viciousness. The fur flew, and bites were 
many, and at last the victor drove the vanquished 
roaring before it. The camel-man who valeted the 
conquering hero seemed quite charmed, but as the 
beaten animal had some nasty bites in the neck, the 
performance did not seem to us so meritorious. In a 
