TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND 295 
way cleft in the side of the ravine above us, the dis- 
lodged stones raining about our ears. Graceful alert 
creatures, but of course barred to us, and not only 
by reason of the red tape that ties them up. I cannot 
think a wild ass is an allowable trophy. I should for 
ever apologise if I had one. So — we saw them vanish 
in a cloud of dust. We saw a klipspringer as we turned 
a little curving piece of rock. I fired, and missed. 
Most unfortunately, as the shot was called through 
every ravine by every echo. 
As we were silently standing gazing across a 
lovely valley a couple of wart-hog sows with immense 
families ran among the aloes. Cecily dashed after 
them, and into them, separating the little band. 
Laughing heartily, she pursued one agile mite, and 
almost cornered it. The sow turned viciously and 
charged head down. I shouted to the venturesome 
Cecily, but she saw the danger as soon as I, and made 
for an aloe stronghold. The baby pig with little 
grunts and squeals ran to its mother, who gave up the 
idea of punishing us for our temerity in waylaying her, 
and trotted back to her litter, all scuttling away in the 
tangle of jungly places. We laughed at the comical 
sight they presented, and then began to lunch off 
a bit of their relation. 
The air made us drowsy, and I think we slept 
awhile. The bark of a koodoo wakened us, and we 
started up all alert. Two small does crossed the 
ravine lower down, but were gone in the fraction of a 
second. It was a stiff climb back, and as I made a 
detour round a jutting peak of rock I caught a glimpse 
