TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 227 
ostriches. I could not count how many, because they 
scattered right and left, thrown into panic by the 
shameless desertion of the little brood by their father, 
who making a direct bid for his own safety, took a bee- 
line out of our radius. I cornered one little fluffy yellow 
and black bird, and could have caught him had I 
wished. He was about twelve inches high, very 
important looking, and his bright black boot-button 
eyes gazed at me unblinkingly. Stout little yellow 
legs supported the tubby quaint body, and then I 
let him pass to gain solitude and his brothers. We 
did not war with ostrich babies. I had rather a 
contempt for that cock bird. Imagine leaving his 
children like that ! And yet, considered in the abstract, 
an ostrich of all other denizens of the wild world 
stands for respectability and staunchness of purpose. 
He pairs for life. None of your gad-about ideas for 
him. One life, one love, is the ostrich motto, and if he 
finds the “ Ever and ever, Amen ” variety of domes- 
ticity spells satiety almost invariably, well, he is no 
different from other two-footed creatures we know. 
Nature is the same wherever or however we find it. 
The ostrich does not look a happy bird. His sad 
pathetic face makes one think something in this “ sorry 
scheme of things entire ” does not altogether satisfy. 
What the ostrich really needs is a matrimonial system 
whereby these birds might take each other on the 
lease principle, as we do houses, with the option of 
renewal. Things would brighten up for them, I 
am sure, considerably. I don’t know how we can 
arrange it, or even put the suggestion to them. Perhaps 
