no 
TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 
was a great and glorious struggle, and the laurels should 
be to the victor. For quite a long time it was im- 
possible to tell which was the stronger, but at last the 
right-hand buck — for, oddly enough, though they 
circled round each other each always charged from 
the side from which he commenced to give battle — 
began to show signs of tremendous stress, and the 
telling blows of his opponent wore him down more 
and more. No longer was he able to parry the lunges 
of his infuriated foe, who, like lightning, took instant 
advantage of the on-coming weakness of the stricken 
buck, and rushing in on a flying charge like a whirl- 
wind, inserted his rapier-like horns into his enemy’s 
side and gored him unmercifully. 
This is where I came in. I would not shoot the 
victor, for he had won his battle in fair fight. It was 
the survival of the fittest. As he shook his dripping 
horns and looked at me with blood-shot eyes and 
frothing muzzle, I saw he was a youngster in the height 
of his prime, and that the stricken buck was old. The 
victor and I looked at one another, and I threw my 
rifle up. A charge from a maddened oryx would be 
no simple thing. But I did not want to take his life 
unless compelled. A soft, low whinnying noise in the 
bush: he was off, and I was forgotten. Cherchez la 
femme , even in oryx land ! I walked up to the dying 
buck, and Clarence, who had seen the whole thing 
also, hurried up and asked if he might “ hallal ” 
quickly and save the meat. A Somali could not be 
expected to appreciate sentimental reasons, so I did 
not urge mercy towards the utterly vanquished, 
