TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 223 
think our admiration for the small birds puzzled 
Clarence very much. He made nothing of them. All 
the hunters were singularly ignorant on the subject, 
and could tell us nothing, not even the names of quite 
well-known finches. All the exquisite little things 
were tame as tame could be, willingly picking up 
crumbs as we scattered them in the very tent. The 
most wondrously coated starlings wandered about in 
their inquisitive habit, and made many moments of 
amusement for us with their quarrels and peacocking 
ways. 
At Well-Wall we got some water, and camped for 
the night. There were many stray nomadic Somalis, 
hunters mostly, at the water, some Midgans, almost 
in “ the altogether.” They were a scraggy, miserable- 
looking lot, with whom our men got to loggerheads 
in “ the wee sma’ hours,” and, quarrelling most of the 
night, made the place hideous with their din, all 
carried on, as it was, on a top note. I went out once 
to try and silence them all, and Cecily had a go at it 
also, but nothing would stop the incessant jangle of 
their voices. We simply lay down, said things, and 
wished for day. 
When the dawn broke in gray shadows we insisted 
on striking camp at once, breakfasting after a short 
trek. The outcaste Somalis followed us for a long 
way, begging for tobes. It seemed cruel to refuse 
them, but we hadn’t enough to go round even if we 
handed over our remaining stock, and really to give 
one tobe, or even two or three, to such a needy band 
would be about as much use as to present one brace of 
