98 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 
watched game, after crawling to within fifty yards. 
On one occasion an aoul and I eyed each other at 
twenty paces, and so motionless was I he could make 
neither head nor tail of me. 
The camp was in a turmoil and every camel-man 
shouting at the top of his voice — the one thing I do 
object to in Somalis. Their very whispers almost 
break your ear-drum, and I suppose a loud voice is 
the result of many centuries of calling over vast 
spaces. 
Three of the camels, heavily laden, had turned 
aggressive, bitten several men, and shaken the dust of 
the place off their feet. Of course, the levanting 
camels proved to be the ones loaded up with our 
tents and bedding. They had a very excellent start 
before anyone thought it necessary to go in pursuit. 
It was all gross carelessness, as a loaded camel is easy 
enough to stop if the stopping is done by its own 
driver. 
There was nothing for us to do in the matter, and 
supper seemed the main object just then. The cook 
served us up some soup and broiled chops, and we 
topped up with some delicious jam out of the useful 
little pots from the A. and N. Stores, holding enough 
for a not very greedy person. Cecily voted for black- 
berry, and I sampled the raspberry. 
Night fell, and still no returning camels. I rode 
out a little way, but the going was too impossible in 
the dark. My pony was a gallant little beast, a bit of 
a stargazer, but I prefer a horse with his heart in the 
right place, wherever his looks may be. 
