n6 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 
Just here Clarence went out spooring, came on an 
ostrich nest just about to hatch out, and nothing 
would do but we must go then and there to see it. We 
penetrated some wait-a-bit and then came on the nest 
with seven eggs therein. Next we hid ourselves, 
waited awhile, and had the pleasure of seeing the father 
ostrich return to the domicile. I don’t know where 
the mother could be. We never sighted her. Perhaps 
she was an ostrich suffragette and had to attend a 
meeting. We did not want to go too near the nest, or 
go too often, but we could not help being very much 
interested. Our consideration was quite unnecessary. 
The eggs hatched out, the broken eggs told the tale, 
but some prowling jackal or hungry hyaena had called 
when the parents were away and annexed the entire 
seven. Housekeeping in the jungle has its drawbacks. 
It must be really difficult to raise a family. 
It was quite strange that Clarence, who was a born 
shikari, versed in the ways of the wild, and master of 
the jungle folk, was not at all what I call a safe shot. I 
never felt that I could depend on his rifle if we got 
into a tight hole. My uncle says times must have 
changed, for in their days together Clarence was very 
reliable with a rifle. But I don’t see why a man, so 
often out in the jungle, should go off as a shot — rather, 
one would think, would he improve, like grouse, with 
keeping. 
We did a most amusing stalk one day here. On a 
Sunday— I know it was a Sunday, because ever since 
we lost the only almanac we had with us we notched a 
stick, Crusoe fashion — Cecily and I decided to part 
