TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 95 
then, in spite of what some travellers say, the average 
Somali rarely is. They are frightful “ buck-sticks,” 
but I never saw any cowardice to disprove their 
boasting stories. 
After leaving the ponies with two syces we went off 
at right angles, and after a long and heavy walk I came 
on a bunch of aoul, who winded me and darted away 
like lightning. Their flight started a great prize, whom 
I had not noticed before, so much the colour of the 
reddish-brown earth was he. A dibat ag buck. He fled 
too a little way, but then halted, appearing to think the 
sudden fright of the aoul unnecessary. I was crouch- 
ing low behind a small bush, and took most careful 
aim. Off went the long-necked creature again, its 
quite lengthy tail held erect. He stood and faced me. 
He apparently mistrusted the bush, but had some 
weakness for the spot. It was a very long shot, but I 
tried it. The bullet found a billet, for I heard it tell, 
but the buck sprang feet into the air and was off in a 
moment. I took to my heels and ran like mad. I don’t 
know how I ever imagined I was to overtake the 
antelope. The Baron tore along behind me. I ran 
until I was completely winded, but I could see a strong 
blood-trail, so knew the antelope was hard hit. I ran 
on again, and we were now in very boggy ground, or 
rather surrounded by many oozy-looking water holes. 
It was a very shaky shot I got in next time. The 
dibatag dashed on for a few paces, and then took a 
crashing header into — of course — the largest pool in the 
vicinity. The Baron and I danced about on the edge 
in great vexation, but I did not mean to lose my splendid 
