248 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 
To dibaltig or not to dibaltig, that is the question. 
And how we hoped they would answer it in the negative, 
and let us get back to tea. 
With a wild war-whoop the matter was decided, 
and girding up their loins, away and away, hither and 
thither dashed the performers, throwing spears, 
catching them, jumping off the pony, then vaulting 
to saddle, then back again, finally gaining a seat face 
to tail. A real circus show this. Going at a mad 
gallop the riders would suddenly jerk the bit — a 
perfect devil of cruelty — and back the foaming pony 
would go, haunches to the ground. Poor creatures, 
how lathered they were and beside themselves with 
the pace and rush. Dust rose in volumes, and we 
receded and receded, but the flying figures only drew 
the circle closer. The affair went on for a whole hour, 
when it had to cease because the ponies were done, and 
could not keep up the required speed any longer. 
All the Somalis came round us, the ponies’ heads 
facing us, almost touching us, and we must have been 
hidden entirely from our own men, because as our 
dibaltig friends sat their panting ponies they raised 
both arms with spears held high, and dear me, how 
they shouted that “ Mot ” sentence. 
I signed with my hand that we wished to get out 
of the circle — it was not pleasant so near the panting, 
pawing ponies, and one big black-looking fellow 
backed his steed out and made a path. I thanked 
them through Clarence and then began the usual 
palaver about the inadequacy of the presents. 
If every man had to have a tobe it meant twenty- 
