CHAPTER XX 
THE LAST PHASE 
Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch’d 
With rainy marching in the painful field. 
And time has worn us into slovenry, 
But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim 
King Henry V 
At night came that weird lowing sound a leopard often 
makes when hunting. Our friend of the afternoon, 
of course. He wakened us up, and we turned out to 
see that the watch happened to be on the alert. It 
would be a parlous thing if we lost any of the precious 
trophies now when the expedition was almost over — 
not that taxidermine-covered skins and heads would 
be the sort of feast that would appeal to a saucy 
leopard. Then silence again. 
Next day one of our hunters heard of a neighbouring 
karia losing a sheep the previous night. It was struck 
down but not removed. I had heard of such a thing 
before, and believe it to be an undoubted fact that a 
leopard kills on occasion for mere lust. 
Cecily and I went to the karia , which was perched 
on a plateau surrounded with slopes covered with 
aloes. Quite a natural fortress, and one that might 
be most easily guarded from the incursions of wild 
beasts. But the Somalis seem to me to introduce 
the kismet idea into every phase of their everyday 
