170 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 
had taken with him our .35 Winchester. I doubt if 
he ever fired a rifle in his life, but I swore he shouldn’t 
learn on ours. I would go after him, and catch up with 
him, if I had to pursue him all the way to Berbera 
itself. My chance of meeting that lion — which Clarence 
had practically located — were knocked out at 1000 
to 1. 
A few speedy directions and questions produced a 
couple of our best camels, lightly laden, and the know- 
ledge that the fugitive had about an hour’s start of us, 
having, indeed, waited to go until he saw Clarence 
clear of the camp. I reproached the caravan that they 
had not prevented the running away, but no sense 
could be driven into their stupid heads. Every man 
feigned complete ignorance. The stolid “ me no 
savey ” of the Chinaman is not a whit more obtuse or 
provoking than the Somali equivalent. They can be 
as beautifully dense as the most wilfully non-under- 
standing Chinee. Hammers won’t drive a subject in 
if that subject is, in their opinion, better kept out. 
They are diplomatic, but maddening. 
Our two camels for the pursuit were loaded up 
with a small amount of food in case we were out all 
night, and taking my .500 Express as the best all round 
rifle, I mounted, not without trepidation, an evil- 
looking beast, whose driver greeted me with a tolerant 
and broad smile. Clarence, as to the manner born, 
put himself on the other animal, and with a waved 
“ Good-bye ” to Cecily, who, lucky person, was going 
after King Leo, we set out. My irritation and annoy- 
ance at being so signally done kept me up for a short 
