TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 91 
about as much chance of meeting as the man in the 
moon ; “ what for you ’fraid now ? ” 
I told him women have a long-standing quarrel 
with serpents ; that a serpent once spoiled the happi- 
ness of a woman and turned her out of a garden where 
she fain would be. 
“ She cousin of yours ? ” he asked, with true Somali 
inquisitiveness. 
“ Very distant,” I answered. 
Cecily and a couple of hunters met us quarter way. 
She told us the ponies rushed into camp in the early 
morning, as I had thought they would. She had not 
been unduly anxious about me, knowing I was with 
Clarence, and guessing we were bushed. They never 
heard the shots at all. 
I did enjoy my breakfast, and never had a cup of tea 
that tasted half so good. 
The thought of all that pork wasting in the near 
vicinity bothered us no end. Very greedy, I know. 
But, you see, dainties were not often to be had. We 
ordered out a couple of ponies and rode back to the 
scene of my early morning encounter with the wart- 
hog to find him, marvel of marvels, intact. Though a 
thwarted looking vulture of business-like appearance 
flapped off and sat down in stone’s throw. They have 
a mighty contempt for man, these birds, or else it is 
they recognise they aren’t worth powder and shot. 
Cecily evolved the idea of converting half the wart-hog 
into bacon, putting it into pickle, and promising it 
would equal the finest home cured. The ham was to 
be a treat to which we should look forward for weeks. 
