254 TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 
When I was perched on the bough selected, I flung 
the irons down to Cecily, who used them. Next, 
with cords, we drew up the rifles. Clarence and a 
hunter used the climbing-irons also, and came up like 
woodpeckers. The men below tethered the sheep, 
and departed to camp and bed. It was not very long 
before we wished we had had a platform made. Not 
being birds, or bird-like, the perching business hurt 
frightfully. And it was only by getting well against 
the trunk we could put up with the position at all. 
Clarence lay extended full length along a bough, on 
the look-out — “ ship-ahoy ! ” sort of game. The 
other hunter imagined himself a Blondin on an in- 
significant branch beyond me, slightly above me. 
A ridiculous situation we were all in. I longed to 
laugh out loud. But we had to be very, very silent 
and hardly move a muscle. After about an hour I 
began to get cramp in my foot, and had to press my 
boot hard against the bough to try to bear the agony 
calmly. 
A roar broke on the stillness. Things were more 
interesting for a few moments, and Clarence’s tense 
figure outlined on the branch seemed to be an Argus 
of many eyes. The Blondin gentleman had got on 
my nerves long since, and I wished with all my heart 
he would take a seat. The clouds grew darker and 
darker, and presently rain began to fall, real Somali 
ain, not in single drops, but water-spouts. The 
hunter pirouetting on the adjacent bough missed his 
footing and fell to the ground — Somalis are not the 
slightest use as tree-climbers — and caused as much 
