TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 145 
Zeila in the trap, a tight fit already, and endeavour to 
place the ropes. First we wound grass around the 
rope up to a certain distance, making a pad, and then 
the hunter climbed down. Had the camel done any 
lashing about or moving the man would have been 
awkwardly placed. The ropes were successfully passed 
around the body, made into nooses, the intrepid 
hunter, wreathed in smiles at our congratulations, 
emerged sandy but successful, and we all did a tug of 
war, heaving poor Zeila to the surface, a struggling 
mass. Once on terra jirma at the top it sank groan- 
ing pitifully. The camel-man examined it. “ Bruk ! 
bruk ! ” he said, ruefully regarding the right fore-leg. 
He evidently was right. The poor creature had 
broken the leg in the fall. Here was a calamity ! The 
head camel-man said it could not be mended, and 
Zeila was no more use to us. I asked Clarence if he 
thought so fine a camel would be given a home at the 
karia of the leopard adventure if I offered to hand it 
over. He laughed and said a broken-legged camel is 
no use anywhere, and if I offered the animal the 
Somalis would accept it gladly and then eat it, and 
didn’t I think it better our own men should get the 
benefit of the meat ? I had never thought of our 
turning cannibal and eating each other this wise, but 
I believe all the men were looking forward to a Zeila 
chop. With great reluctance I said I supposed the 
poor camel must be killed, that it must be shot first 
through the head, and then that “ hallal ” business 
could follow immediately. Clarence swore by Allah 
he would do the killing humanely, a word the Somali 
K 
