TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 231 
rhino turned on our inadequate fortress of mimosa, 
and as the peril swept upon us we seemed to gather 
wit and sense to combat the danger. Separating 
widely as the beast plunged straight in where we had 
been, we turned on him, simultaneously, to fire. Then 
we branched off again, at right angles. I fell into a 
thorn bush, and took the opportunity of comparative 
safety to reload. Cecily was now dancing about in 
the open, in a most sporting but in no sense a common- 
sense fashion. For a dreadful instant I feared the 
result. The rhino bull took up a large circle with his 
careering and struggles, and the dust was so great that 
from my post I could not clearly see the finish. I 
heard the rifle crack twice again, and then a ringing 
shout for me came. There lay the mighty carcase 
in a kneeling attitude. A mountain of flesh indeed ! 
Cecily had a great gash on her wrist, caused, I fancy, 
by some sharp flint stone, and the blood was running 
down her rifle as she held it at the trail. She was 
too excited to speak, and there was no calming her 
down. She really seemed like a person in a dream. 
I announced to her solemnly it was to be our last 
rhino shoot. The tension relaxed then, and she 
laughed at my serious face. 
A series of whistles brought up the hunters, and 
the last phase began. Cecily and I set off to find our 
ponies, and, full of elation, made for camp and tea. 
We had tea at all hours of the day, finding it the most 
refreshing of anything, and I don’t really think it 
affected our nerves one scrap. 
It was rather late when our men reached camp, 
