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diff --git a/old/54501-h/54501-h.htm b/old/54501-h/54501-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index af7a37d..0000000 --- a/old/54501-h/54501-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9660 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> - <title>Two Dianas in Somaliland, by Agnes Herbert</title> - <meta content="pg2html (binary v0.17)" /> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> - - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .50em; margin-bottom: .50em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} - .x-small {font-size: 75%;} - .small {font-size: 85%;} - .large {font-size: 115%;} - .x-large {font-size: 130%;} - .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} - .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} - .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} - .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} - .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} - .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; - font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; - text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; - border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - -</style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Two Dianas in Somaliland, by Agnes Herbert - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Two Dianas in Somaliland - The Record of a Shooting Trip with Twenty-Five Illustrations - Reproduced from Photographs - -Author: Agnes Herbert - -Release Date: April 7, 2017 [EBook #54501] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> - - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND - </h1> - <h2> - By Agnes Herbert - </h2> - <h3> - The Record of a Shooting Trip - </h3> - <h3> - With Twenty-Five Illustrations Reproduced from Photographs - </h3> - <h4> - London: John Lane - </h4> - <h3> - MCMVIII - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0001.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0010.jpg" alt="0010 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0010.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0089.jpg" alt="0089 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0089.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0011.jpg" alt="0011 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0011.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <h3> - TO - </h3> - <h3> - THE LEADER OF - </h3> - <h3> - THE OPPOSITION SHOOT - </h3> - <h3> - SOLDIER, SHIKARI, AND SOMETIME - </h3> - <h3> - MISOGYNIST - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - <b>CONTENTS</b> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I—WE SET OUT FOR SOMALILAND </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II—IN BERBERA </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III—THE STARTING OF THE GREAT TREK - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV—WE MEET KING LEO </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V—MORE LIONS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI—BENIGHTED IN THE JUNGLE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII—ANOTHER UNCOMFORTABLE NIGHT - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII—A BATTLE ROYAL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX—DEATH OF “THE BARON” </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X—WE MEET “THE OPPOSITION” </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI—AN OASIS IN THE DESERT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII—OUR BUTLER LEVANTS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII—WE CROSS THE MAREHAN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV—WE REACH A REAL LAKE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV—ANOTHER GAP IN OUR RANKS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI—CECILY SHOOTS A RHINOCEROS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII—TREE CLIMBING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII—A JOUST WITH A BULL ORYX </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX—IN THE GOLIS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX—THE LAST PHASE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XX—END OF THE GREAT SHIKAR </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND - </h1> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I—WE SET OUT FOR SOMALILAND - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - <i>This weaves itself perforce into my business</i> - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - King Lear - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>t is not that I - imagine the world is panting for another tale about a shoot. I am aware - that of the making of sporting books there is no end. Simply—I want - to write. And in this unassuming record of a big shoot, engineered and - successfully carried through by two women, there may be something of - interest; it is surely worth more than a slight endeavour to engage the - even passing interest of one person of average intelligence in these days - of universal boredom. - </p> - <p> - I don’t know whether the idea of our big shoot first emanated from my - cousin or myself. I was not exactly a tenderfoot, neither was she. We had - both been an expedition to the Rockies at a time when big game there was - not so hard to find, but yet less easy to get at. We did not go to the - Rockies with the idea of shooting, our sole <i>raison d’être</i> being to - show the heathen Chinee how not to cook; but incidentally the charm of the - chase captured us, and we exchanged the gridiron for the gun. So at the - end of March 190-we planned a sporting trip to Somaliland—very - secretly and to ourselves, for women hate being laughed at quite as much - as men do, and that is very much indeed. - </p> - <p> - My cousin is a wonderful shot, and I am by no means a duffer with a rifle. - As to our courage—well, we could only trust we had sufficient to - carry us through. We felt we had, and with a woman intuition is - everything. If she feels she is not going to fail, you may take it from me - she won’t. Certainly it is one thing to look a lion in the face from - England to gazing at him in Somaliland. But we meant to meet him somehow. - </p> - <p> - Gradually and very carefully we amassed our stores, and arranged for their - meeting us in due course. We collected our kit, medicines, and a thousand - and one needful things, and at last felt we had almost everything, and yet - as little as possible. Even the little seemed too much as we reflected on - the transport difficulty. We sorted our things most carefully—I - longed for the floor-space of a cathedral to use as a spreading-out ground—and - glued a list of the contents of each packing-case into each lid. - </p> - <p> - To real sportsmen I shall seem to be leaving the most important point to - the last—the rifles, guns, and ammunition. But, you see, I am only a - sportswoman by chance, not habit. I know it is the custom with your born - sportsman to place his weapons first, minor details last. “Nice customs - curtsey to great kings,” they say, and so it must be here. For King - Circumstance has made us the possessors of such wondrous modern rifles, - &c., as to leave us no reason to think of endeavouring to supply - ourselves with better. We, fortunately, have an uncle who is one of the - greatest shikaris of his day, and his day has only just passed, his sun - but newly set. A terribly bad mauling from a lion set up troubles in his - thigh, and blood poisoning finally ended his active career. He will never - hunt again, but he placed at our disposal every beautiful and costly - weapon he owned, together with his boundless knowledge. He insisted on our - taking many things that would otherwise have been left behind, and his - great trust in our powers inspired us with confidence. It is to his help - we owe the entire success of our expedition. - </p> - <p> - It would be an impertinence for a tyro like myself to offer any remarks on - the merits or demerits of any rifle. Not only do the fashions change - almost as quickly as in millinery, not only do great shikaris advise, - advertise, and adventure with any weapon that could possibly be of service - to anyone, but my knowledge, even after the experience gained in our long - shoot, is confined to the very few firearms we had with us. They might not - have met with unqualified approval from all men; they certainly served us - well. After all, that is the main point. - </p> - <p> - Our battery consisted of: - </p> - <p> - Three 12-bore rifles. - </p> - <p> - Two double-barrelled hammerless ejecting .500 Expresses. - </p> - <p> - One .35 Winchester. - </p> - <p> - Two small .22 Winchesters. - </p> - <p> - One single-barrel .350. - </p> - <p> - One 410 bore collector’s gun. - </p> - <p> - A regular <i>olla podrida</i> in rifles. - </p> - <p> - My uncle selected these from his armoury as being the ones of all others - he would feel safest in sending us out with. There may, in the opinion of - many, be much more suitable ones for women to use, but, speaking as one - who had the using of them, I must say I think the old shikari did the - right thing, and if I went again the same rifles would accompany me. - </p> - <p> - My uncle is a small man, with a shortish arm, and therefore his reach - about equalled ours, and his rifles might have been made for us. - </p> - <p> - We also towed about with us two immensely heavy shot guns. They were a - great nuisance, merely adding to the baggage, and we never used them as - far as I remember. - </p> - <p> - As we meant frequently to go about unescorted, a revolver or pistol seemed - indispensable in the belt, and under any conditions such a weapon would be - handy and give one a sense of security. On the advice of another great - sportsman we equipped ourselves with a good shikar pistol apiece, 12-bore; - and I used mine on one occasion very effectively at close quarters with an - ard-wolf, so can speak to the usefulness and efficiency of the weapon. - </p> - <p> - It was the “cutting the ivy” season in Suburbia when we drove through it - early one afternoon, and in front of every pill-box villa the suburban - husband stood on a swaying ladder as he snipped away, all ora ora - unmindful of the rampant domesticity of the sparrows. The fourteenth of - February had long passed, and the fourteenth is to the birds what Easter - Monday is to the lower orders, a general day for getting married. - </p> - <p> - A few days in town amid the guilty splendour of one of the caravan-serais - in Northumberland Avenue were mostly spent in imbibing knowledge. My uncle - never wearied of his subject, and it was to our interest to listen - carefully. Occasionally he would wax pessimist, and express his doubts of - our ability to see the trip through; but he was kind enough to say he - knows no safer shot than myself. “Praise from Cæsar.” Though I draw - attention to it that shouldn’t! The fragility of my physique bothered him - no end. I assured him over and over that my appearance is nothing to go - by, and that I am, as a matter of fact, a most wiry person. - </p> - <p> - This shoot of ours was no hurried affair. We had been meditating it for - months, and had, to some extent, arranged all the difficult parts a long - time before we got to the actual purchases of stores, and simple things of - the kind. We had to obtain special permits to penetrate the Ogaden country - and beyond to the Marehan and the Haweea, if we desired to go so far. - Since the Treaty with King Menelik in 1897 the Ogaden and onwards is out - of the British sphere of influence. - </p> - <p> - How our permits were obtained I am not at liberty to say; but without them - we should have been forced to prance about on the outskirts of every part - where game is abundant. By the fairy aid of these open sesames we were - enabled to traverse the country in almost any part, and would have been - passed from Mullah to Sheik, from Sheik to Mullah, had we not taken - excellent care to avoid, as far as we could, the settled districts where - these gentry reside. At one time all the parts we shot over were free - areas, and open to any sportsman who cared to take on the possible dangers - of penetrating the far interior of Somaliland, but now the hunting is very - limited and prescribed. We were singularly fortunate, and owe our - surprising good luck to that much maligned, useful, impossible to do - without passport to everything worth having known as “influence.” - </p> - <p> - The tents we meant to use on the shoot were made for us to a pattern - supplied. They were fitted with poles of bamboo, of which we had one to - spare in case of emergencies. The ropes, by particular request, were of - cotton, in contradistinction to hemp, which stretches so abominably. - </p> - <p> - Two skinning knives were provided, and some little whet-stones, an axe, a - bill-hook, two hammers, a screwdriver—my <i>vade mecum</i>—nails, - and many other needful articles. We trusted to getting a good many things - at Berbera, but did not like to leave everything to the last. Our “canned - goods” and all necessaries in the food line we got at the Army and Navy - Stores. Field-glasses, compasses, and a good telescope our generous - relative contributed. - </p> - <p> - They say that the best leather never leaves London, that there only can - the best boots be had. This is as may be. Anyway the shooting boots made - for us did us well, and withstood prodigious wear and tear. - </p> - <p> - The night before our departure we had a “Goodbye” dinner and, as a great - treat, were taken to a music-hall. Of course it was not my first visit, - but really, if I have any say in the matter again, it will be the last. - Some genius—a man, of course—says, somewhere or other, women - have no sense of humour—I wonder if he ever saw a crowd of - holiday-making trippers exchanging hats—and I am willing to concede - he must be right. I watched that show unmoved the while the vast audience - rocked with laughter. - </p> - <p> - The <i>pièce-de-résistance</i> of the evening was provided by a “comic” - singer, got up like a very-much-the-worse-for-wear curate, who sang to us - about a girl with whom he had once been in love. Matters apparently went - smoothly enough until one fateful day he discovered his inamorata’s nose - was false, and, what seemed to trouble him more than all, was stuck on - with cement. It came off at some awkward moment. This was meant to be - funny. If such an uncommon thing happened that a woman had no nose, and - more uncommon still, got so good an imitation as to deceive him as to its - genuineness in the first place, it would not be affixed with cement. But - allowing such improbabilities to pass in the sacred cause of providing - amusement, surely the woman’s point of view would give us pause. It would - be so awful for her in every way that it would quite swamp any discomfort - the man would have to undergo. I felt far more inclined to cry than laugh, - and the transcendent vulgarity of it all made one ashamed of being there. - </p> - <p> - The next item on the programme was a Human Snake, who promised us - faithfully that he would dislocate his neck. He marched on to a gaudy - dais, and after tying himself in sundry knots and things, suddenly jerked, - and his neck elongated, swinging loosely from his body. It was a very - horrid sight. An attendant stepped forward and told us the Human Snake had - kept his promise. The neck was dislocated. My only feeling in the matter - was a regret he had not gone a step farther and broken it. All this was - because I have no sense of humour. I don’t like music-hall entertainments. - I would put up with being smoked into a kipper if the performance rewarded - one at all. It is so automatic, so sad. There is no joy, or freshness, or - life about it. ’Tis a squalid way of earning money. - </p> - <p> - At last every arrangement was arranged, our clothes for the trip duly - packed. Being women, we had naturally given much thought to this part of - the affair. We said “Adieu” to our wondering and amazed relatives, who, - with many injunctions to us to “write every day,” and requests that we - should at all times abjure damp beds, saw us off <i>en route</i> for - Berbera, <i>via</i> Aden, by a P. and O. liner. - </p> - <p> - I think steamer-travelling is most enjoyable—that is, unless one - happens to be married, in which case there is no pleasure in it, or in - much else for the matter of that. I have always noticed that the - selfishness which dominates every man more or less, usually more, develops - on board ship to an abnormal extent. They invariably contrive to get - toothache or lumbago just as they cross the gangway to go aboard. This is - all preliminary to securing the lower berth with some appearance of - equity. What does it matter that the wife detests top berths, not to speak - of the loss of dignity she must endure at the idea even of clambering up? - Of course the husband does not ask her to take the top berth. No husband - can <i>ask</i> his wife to make herself genuinely uncomfortable to oblige - him. He has to hint. He hints in all kinds of ways—throws things - about the cabin, and ejaculates parenthetically, “How am I to climb up - there with a tooth aching like mine?” or “I shall be lamed for life with - my lumbago if I have to get up to that height.” - </p> - <p> - Having placed the wife in the position of being an unfeeling brute if she - insists on taking the lower berth for herself, there is nothing for it but - to go on as though the top berth were the be-all of the voyage and her - existence. - </p> - <p> - “Let me have the top berth, Percy,” she pleads; “you know how I love - mountaineering.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, very well. You may have it. Don’t take it if you don’t want it, or if - you’d rather not. I should hate to seem selfish.” - </p> - <p> - And so it goes on. Then in the morning, in spite of comic papers to the - contrary, the husband has to have first go-in at the looking-glass and the - washing apparatus, which makes the wife late for breakfast and everything - is cold. - </p> - <p> - Cecily and I shared a most comfortable cabin amidships, together with a - Christian Science lady who lay in her berth most days crooning hymns to - herself in between violent paroxysms of <i>mal-de-mer</i>. I always - understood that in Christian Science you do not have to be ill if you do - not want to. This follower of the faith was very bad indeed, and didn’t - seem to like the condition of things much. We rather thought of - questioning her on the apparent discrepancy, but judged it wiser to leave - the matter alone. It is as well to keep on good terms with one’s cabin - mate. - </p> - <p> - Nothing really exciting occurred on the voyage, but one of the passengers - provided a little amusement by her management, or rather mismanagement, of - an awkward affair. Almost as soon as we started I noticed we had an - unusually pretty stewardess, and that a warrior returning to India - appeared to agree with me. He waylaid her at every opportunity, and I - often came on them whispering in corners of passages o’ nights. Of course - it had nothing to do with me what the stewardess did, for I am thankful to - say I did not require her tender ministrations on the voyage at all. Well, - in the next cabin to ours was a silly little woman—I had known her - for years—going out to join her husband, a colonel of Indian - Lancers. She made the most never-ending fuss about the noise made by a - small baby in the adjoining cabin. One night, very late, Mrs. R. could - not, or would not, endure the din any longer, so decided to oust the - stewardess from her berth in the ladies’ cabin, the stewardess to come to - the vacated one next the wailing baby. All this was duly carried into - effect, and the whole ship was in complete silence when the most awful - shrieks rent the air. Most of the inhabitants of my corridor turned out, - and all made their way to the ladies’ cabin, which seemed the centre of - the noise. There we found the ridiculous Mrs. R. alone, and in hysterics. - After a little, we could see for ourselves there was nothing much the - matter. She gasped out that she had evicted the stewardess, and was just - falling off to sleep when a tall figure appeared by the berth, clad in - pale blue pyjamas—it seemed to vex her so that it was pale blue, and - for the life of me I could not see why they were any worse than dark red—and - calling her “Mabel, darling!” embraced her rapturously. - </p> - <p> - “And you know,” said Mrs. R. plaintively, “my name is <i>not</i> Mabel! It - is Maud.” - </p> - <p> - In the uproar the intruder had of course escaped, but Mrs. R. - unhesitatingly proclaimed him to be Captain H., the officer whom I had - noticed at first. We discovered the stewardess sleeping peacefully, or - making a very good imitation of it, and she was wakened up and again - dislodged, whilst Mrs. R. prepared to put up with the wailing baby for the - remains of the night. - </p> - <p> - Next morning the captain of the ship interviewed the warrior, who - absolutely denied having been anywhere near the ladies’ cabin at the time - mentioned, and aided by a youthful subaltern, who perjured himself like a - man, proved a most convincing <i>alibi</i>. Matters went on until one day - on deck Captain H. walked up to Mrs. R. and reproached her for saying he - was the man who rudely disturbed her slumbers in the wee sma’ hours. She, - like the inane creature she is, went straight to the skipper and reported - that Captain H. was terrorising her. I heard that evening, as a great - secret, that the warrior had been requested to leave the ship at Aden. - Where the secret came in I don’t quite know, for the whole lot of us knew - of it soon after. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Secret de deux, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Secret des dieux; - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Secret de trois, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Secret de tous. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - Do you know that? - </p> - <p> - I was not surprised to hear Captain H. casually remark at breakfast next - morning that he thought of stopping off at Aden, as he had never been - ashore there, and had ideas of exploring the Hinterland some time, and - besides it was really almost foolish to pass a place so often and yet know - it not at all. I went to his rescue, and said it was a most sound idea. I - had always understood it was the proper thing to see Aden once and never - again. He looked at me most gratefully, and afterwards showed us much - kindness in many small ways. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. R. preened herself mightily on having unmasked a villain. She assured - me the warrior’s reputation was damaged for all time. The silly little - woman did not seem to grasp the fact that a man’s reputation is like a - lobster’s claw: a new one can be grown every time the old one is smashed. - In fact we had a lobster at home in the aquarium, and it hadn’t even gone - to the trouble of dropping <i>one</i> reputation—I mean claw—but - had three at once! - </p> - <p> - It was one of the quaintest things imaginable to watch the attitude of the - various passengers towards the cause of all the trouble. A community of - people shut up together on board ship become quite like a small town, of - the variety where every one knows everyone else, <i>and</i> their - business. Previous to the semi-subdued scandal Captain H. had been in - great request. He was a fine-looking man, and a long way more versatile - than most. Now many of the people who had painstakingly scraped - acquaintance with him felt it necessary to look the other way as he - passed. Others again—women, of course—tried to secure an - introduction from sheer inquisitiveness. - </p> - <p> - The sole arbiter of what is what, a <i>multum in parvo</i> of the correct - thing to do, we discovered in a young bride, a perfect tome of learning. I - think—I thought so before I met this walking ethic of propriety—there - is no doubt Mrs. Grundy is not the old woman she is represented to be, - with cap and spectacles, though for years we have pictured her thus. It is - all erroneous. Mrs. Grundy is a newly married youthful British matron of - the middle class. There is no greater stickler for the proprieties living. - Having possessed herself of a certificate that certifies respectability, - she likes to know everyone else is hall-marked and not pinchbeck. She - proposed to bring the romance of the stewardess and the officer before the - notice of the directors of the company, and had every confidence in - getting one or two people dismissed over it. All hail for the proprieties! - This good lady markedly and ostentatiously cut the disgraced warrior, who - was her <i>vis-à-vis</i> at table, and when I asked her why she considered - a man guilty of anything until he had been proved beyond doubt to merit - cutting, she looked at me with a supercilious eyebrow raised, and a world - of pity for my ignorance in her tone as she answered firmly: “I must have - the moral courage necessary to cut an acquaintance lacking principle.” - </p> - <p> - “Wouldn’t it be infinitely more courageous to stick to one?” I said, and - left her. - </p> - <p> - We had a very narrow little padre on board too, going out to take on some - church billet Mussoorie way. He was bent on collecting, from all of us who - were powerless to evade him, enough money to set up a screen of sorts in - his new tabernacle. Although he did not approve of the sweepstakes on the - day’s run, he sacrificed his feeling sufficiently to accept a free share, - and would ask us for subscriptions besides, as we lounged about the deck - individually or in small groups, always opening the ball by asking our - valueless opinions as to the most suitable subject—biblical, of - course—for illustration. He came to me one day and asked me what I - thought about the matter. Did I think Moses with his mother would make a - good picture for a screen? I had no views at all, so had to speedily - manufacture some. I gave it as my opinion that if a screen picture were a - necessity Moses would certainly do as well as anybody else—in fact - better. For, after all, Moses was the greatest leader of men the world has - ever known. He engineered an expedition to freedom, and no man can do more - than that. - </p> - <p> - But I begged the padre to give Moses his rightful mother at last. For the - mother of Moses was not she who took all the credit for it. The mother of - Moses was undoubtedly the Princess, his father some handsome Israelite, - and that is why Moses was for ever in heart hankering after his own - people, the Israelites. The Princess arranged the little drama of the - bullrushes, most sweetly pathetic and tender of stories, arranged too that - the baby should be found at the crucial moment, and then gave the little - poem to the world to sing through the centuries. - </p> - <p> - I shocked the parson profoundly, and he never asked me to subscribe again. - He was a narrow, bigoted little creature, and I should think has the - church and the screen very much to himself by now. I went to hear him take - service in the saloon on Sunday. He was quite the sort of padre that makes - one feel farther off from heaven than when one was a boy. - </p> - <p> - I often wonder why so clever a man as Omar asked: “Why nods the drowsy - worshipper outside?” He must have known the inevitable result had the - drowsy worshipper gone in. - </p> - <p> - I fell asleep during the sermon, and only wakened up as it was about - ending, just as the padre closed an impassioned harangue with “May we all - have new hearts, may we all have pure hearts, may we all have good hearts, - may we all have sweet hearts,” and the graceless Cecily says that my - “Amen” shook the ship, which was, I need hardly tell you, “a most - unmitigated misstatement.” - </p> - <p> - Aden was reached at last—“The coal hole of the East.” As a health - resort, I cannot conscientiously recommend it. The heat was overwhelming, - and the local Hotel Ritz sadly wanting in some things and overdone in - others. We found it necessary to spend some days there and many sleepless - nights, pursuing during the latter the big game in our bedrooms. - “Keatings” was of no use. I believe the local insects were case-hardened - veterans, and rather liked the powder than otherwise. What nights we had! - But every one was in like case, for from all over the house came the sound - of slippers banging and much scuffling, and from the room opposite to mine - language consigning all insects, the Aden variety in particular, to some - even warmer place. - </p> - <p> - In some ways the hotel was more than up to date. Nothing so ordinary as a - mere common or garden bell in one’s room. Instead, a sort of dial, like - the face of a clock, with every conceivable want written round it, from a - great desire to meet the manager to a wish to call out the local Fire - Brigade. You turned on a small steel finger to point at your particular - requirement, rang a bell—<i>et voilà!</i> It seems mere carping to - state that the matter ended with <i>voilà</i>. The dials were there, you - might ring if you liked—what more do you want? Some day some one - will answer. Meanwhile, one can always shout. - </p> - <p> - We met two other shooting parties at our <i>auberge</i>. The first - comprised a man and his elderly wife who were not immediately starting, - some of their kit having gone astray. He was a noted shot, and Madam had - been some minor trip with him and meant to accompany another. She was an - intensely cross-grained person, quite the last woman I should yearn to be - cooped up in a tent with for long at a time. Cecily’s idea of it was that - the shikari husband meant, sooner or later, to put into practice the words - of that beautiful song, “Why don’t you take her out and lose her?” and - stuck to it that we should one day come on head-lines in the <i>Somaliland - Daily Wail</i> reading something like this: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - GREAT SHIKARI IN TEARS. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - LOOKING FOR THE LOST ONE. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - SOME LIONS BOLT THEIR FOOD.= - </p> - <p> - The good lady regarded us with manifest disapproval. She considered us as - two lunatics, bound to meet with disaster and misfortune. Being women - alone, we were foredoomed to failure and the most awful things. Our - caravan would murder or abandon us. That much was certain. But she would - not care to say which. Anyway we should not accomplish anything. She - pointed out that a trip of the kind could not by any chance be manoeuvred - to a successful issue without the guidance of a husband. A husband is an - absolute necessity. - </p> - <p> - I had to confess, shamefacedly enough, that we had not got a husband, not - even one husband, to say nothing of one each, and husbands being so scarce - these days, and so hard to come by, we should really have to try and - manage without. Having by some means or other contrived to annex a husband - for herself, she evinced a true British matron-like contempt for every - other woman not so supremely fortunate. - </p> - <p> - She talked a great deal about “the haven of a good man’s love.” One might - sail the seas a long time, I think, before one made such a port. Meanwhile - the good lady’s <i>own</i> haven, the elderly shikari, was flirting with - the big drum of the celebrated ladies’ orchestra at the Aden tea-house. - </p> - <p> - “All human beans,” for this is what our friend got the word to, as she was - right in the forefront of the g-dropping craze, “should marry. It is too - lonely to live by oneself.” - </p> - <p> - Until one has been married long enough to appreciate the delight and - blessedness of solitude this may be true, but wise people don’t dogmatise - on so big a subject. Even Socrates told us that whether a man marries or - whether he doesn’t he regrets it. And so it would almost follow that if - one never jumped the precipice matrimonial one would always have the - lurking haunting fear of having been done out of something good. It may be - as well, therefore, to take the header in quite youthful days and—get - it over. But as the wise Cecily pertinently remarks, you must first catch - your hare! - </p> - <p> - The other shooting party was that of two officers from India, one of them - a distant cousin of mine, who was as much surprised to see me as I was to - see him. They were setting off to Berbera as soon as humanly possible, - like ourselves. - </p> - <p> - The younger man, my kinsman, took a great fancy to Cecily. At least I - suppose he did, in spite of her assertions to the contrary, for he stuck - to us like a burr. He was really by way of being a nuisance, as we had a - great deal to do in the way of satisfying the excise people, procuring - permits and myriad other things. - </p> - <p> - One evening I heard the two warriors talking and the elder said, not - dreaming that his voice would carry so clearly: “Look here, if you are not - careful, we shall have those two girls trying to tack on to our show. And - I won’t have it, for they’ll be duffers, of course.” - </p> - <p> - I laughed to myself, even though I was annoyed. Men are conceited ever, - but this was too much! To imagine we had gone to all the initial expense - and trouble only to join two sportsmen who, true to their masculine - nature, would on all occasions take the best of everything and leave us to - be contented with any small game we could find! - </p> - <p> - It is true that being called a girl softened my wrath somewhat. One can’t - be called a girl at thirty without feeling a glow of pleasure. I am - thirty. So is Cecily. - </p> - <p> - I expect you are smiling? I know a woman never passes thirty. It is her - Rubicon, and she cannot cross it. - </p> - <p> - My uncle had written ahead for us to Berbera to engage, if possible, his - old shikari and head-man, and in addition had sent on copious instructions - as to our needs generally. Our trip was supposed to be a secret in Aden, - but we were inundated with applications from would-be servants of all - kinds. I afterwards discovered that a Somali knows your business almost - before you know it yourself, and in this second-sight-like faculty is only - exceeded in cleverness by the inhabitants of a little island set in the - Irish Sea and sacred to Hall Caine. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II—IN BERBERA - </h2> - <p class="indent30"> - All is uneven, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And everything left at six and seven - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Richard II - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>y this time the - weekly steamer had sailed to Berbera, across the Gulf, but we arranged to - paddle our own canoes, so to speak, and the two sportsmen, still, I - suppose, in fear and trembling lest we should clamour to form a part of - their caravan, went shares with us in hiring at an altogether ridiculous - sum, almost enough to have purchased a ship of our own, a small steamer to - transport us and our numerous belongings across the Gulf. - </p> - <p> - Here I may as well say that it is possible for two women to successfully - carry out a big shoot, for we proved it ourselves, but I do not believe it - possible for them to do it <i>cheaply</i>. I never felt the entire truth - of the well-known axiom, “The woman pays,” so completely as on this trip. - The women paid with a vengeance—twice as much as a man would have - done. - </p> - <p> - The getting of our things aboard was a scene of panic I shall never - forget. It was, of anything I have ever had to do with, the quaintest and - most amusing of sights. Each distinct package seemed to fall to the ground - at least twice before it was considered to have earned the right to a - passage at all. The men engaged by us to do the transporting of our goods - were twins to the porters engaged by our friends, the opposition shoot. - They did not appear to reason out that as the mountain of packages had to - be got aboard before we could sail, it did not matter whose porter carried - which box or kit. No, each porter must stick to the belongings of the - individual who hired him to do the job. Naturally, this caused the wildest - confusion, and I sat down on a packing case that nobody seemed to care - much about and laughed and laughed at the idiocy of it. To see the leader - of the opposition shoot gravely detach from my porter a bale of goods to - which their label was attached, substituting for it a parcel from our - special heap, was to see man at the zenith in the way of management. - </p> - <p> - It was very early, indeed, when we began operations, but not so early by - the time we sailed, accompanied by a rabble of Somalis bent on negotiating - the voyage at our expense. It was useless to say they could not come - aboard, because come they would, and the villainous-looking skipper seemed - to think the more the merrier. Our warrior friends were all for turning - off the unpaying guests, but I begged that there should be no more delay, - and so, when we were loaded up, like a cheap tripping steamer to Hampton - Court, we sailed. It was a truly odious voyage. The wretched little craft - rolled and tossed to such an extent I thought she really must founder. I - remember devoutly wishing she would. - </p> - <p> - The leader brought out sketching materials, and proceeded to make a - water-colour sketch of the sea. - </p> - <p> - It was just the same as any other sea, only nastier and more bumpy. We - imagined—Cecily and myself—that the boat would do the trip in - about sixteen hours. She floundered during twenty-four, and I spent most - of the time on a deck-chair, “the world forgetting.” At intervals Somalis - would come up from the depths somewhere, cross their hands and pray. I - joined them every time in spirit. Cecily told me that the little cabin was - too smelly for words, but in an evil minute I consented to be escorted - thither for a meal. - </p> - <p> - “She’s not exactly a Cunarder,” sang out the younger officer, my kinsman, - from the bottom of the companion, “but anyway they’ve got us something to - eat.” - </p> - <p> - They had. Half-a-dozen different smells pervaded the horrid little cabin, - green cabbage in the ascendant. The place was full of our kit, which - seemed to have been fired in anyhow from the fo’castle end. With a silly - desire to suppress the evidence of my obvious discomfort, I attacked an - overloaded plate of underdone mutton and cabbage. I tried to keep my eyes - off it as far as possible; sometimes it seemed multiplied by two, but the - greasy gravy had a fatal fascination for me, and at last proved my - undoing. The elder warrior supplied a so-called comfort, in the shape of a - preventative against sea-sickness, concocted, he said, by his mother, - which accelerated matters; and they all kindly dragged me on deck again - and left me to myself in my misery. All through the night I stayed on my - seat on deck, not daring to face the cabin and that awful smell, which - Cecily told me was bilge water. - </p> - <p> - It was intensely cold, but, fortunately, I had a lot of wraps. The others - lent me theirs too, telling me I should come below, as it was going to be - “a dirty night,” whatever that might mean. It seemed a never-ending one, - and my thankfulness cannot be described when, as the dawn broke, I saw - land—Somaliland. We made the coast miles below Berbera, which is - really what one might have expected. However, it was a matter of such - moment to me that we made it at last that I was not disposed to quibble we - had not arrived somewhere else. - </p> - <p> - I managed to pull myself together sufficiently to see the Golis Range. The - others negotiated breakfast. They brought me some tea, made of some of the - bilge water I think, and I did not fancy it. Then came Berbera Harbour, - with a lighthouse to mark the entrance; next Berbera itself, which was a - place I was as intensely glad to be in as I afterwards was to leave it. I - should never have believed there were so many flies in the whole world had - I not seen them with mine own eyes. In fact, my first impression of - Berbera may be summed up in the word “flies.” The town seemed to be in two - sections, native and European, the former composed of typical Arab houses - and numerous huts of primitive and poverty-stricken appearance. The - European quarter has large well-built one-storied houses, flat-roofed; and - the harbour looked imposing, and accommodates quite large ships. - </p> - <p> - Submerged in the shimmering ether we could discern, through the parting of - the ways of the Maritime Range, the magnificent Golis, about thirty-five - miles inland from Berbera as the crow flies. - </p> - <p> - The same pandemonium attended our disembarking. All our fellow voyagers - seemed to have accompanied the trip for no other reason than to act as - porters. There were now more porters than packages, and so the men fought - for the mastery to the imminent danger of our goods and chattels. Order - was restored by our soldier friends, who at last displayed a little talent - for administration; and sorting out the porters into some sort of system, - soon had them running away, like loaded-up ants, with our packages and kit - to the travellers’ bungalow in the European square, whither we speedily - followed them, and established ourselves. It was quite a comfortable <i>auberge</i>, - and seemed like heaven after that abominable toy steamer, and we - christened it the “Cecil” at once. - </p> - <p> - Cecily began to sort our things into some degree of sequence. I could not - help her. I was all at sea still, and felt every toss of the voyage over. - These sort of battles fought o’er again are, to say the least, not - pleasant. - </p> - <p> - We had not arrived so very long before our master of the ceremonies came - to discover us, with my uncle’s letter clasped in his brown hand. I shall - never forget the amazement on the man’s face as we introduced ourselves. I - could not at first make out what on earth could be the matter, but at last - the truth dawned on me. He had not expected to find us of the feminine - persuasion. - </p> - <p> - Our would-be henchman’s name was unpronounceable, and sounded more like - “Clarence” than anything, so Clarence he remained to the end—a - really fine, handsome fellow, not very dark, about the Arab colour, with a - mop of dark hair turning slightly grey. His features were of the Arab - type, and I should say a strong Arab strain ran in his family, stronger - even than in most Somali tribes. I think the Arab tinge exists more or - less in every one of them. Anyhow, they are not of negritic descent. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0043.jpg" alt="0043 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0043.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - Our man used the Somali “Nabad” as a salutation, instead of the “Salaam - aleikum” of the Arabs. The last is the most generally used. We heard it - almost invariably in the Ogaden and Marehan countries. Clarence had donned - resplendent garb in which to give us greeting, and discarding the ordinary - everyday white tobe had dressed himself in the khaili, a tobe dyed in - shades of the tricolour, fringed with orange. We never saw him again - tricked out like this; evidently the get-up must have been borrowed for - the occasion. He wore a <i>tusba</i>, or prayer chaplet, round his neck, - and the beads were made from some wood that had a pleasant aroma. A - business-like dagger was at the waist; Peace and War were united. - </p> - <p> - I noticed what long tapering fingers the Somali had, and quite - aristocratic hands, though so brown. He had a very graceful way of - standing too. In fact all his movements were lithe and lissome, telling us - he was a jungle man. I liked him the instant I set eyes on him, and we - were friends from the day we met to the day we parted. Had we been unable - to secure his services I do not know where we should have ended, or what - the trip might have cost. Everyone in Berbera seemed bent on making us pay - for things twice over, and three times if possible. Clarence’s demands - were reasonable enough, and he fell in with our wishes most graciously. - </p> - <p> - I gave instructions for the purchase of camels, fifty at least, for the - caravan was a large one. There were not so many animals in the place for - sale at once, and of course our soldier friends were on the look out for - likely animals also. - </p> - <p> - During the next few days we busied ourselves in engaging the necessary - servants. My uncle had impressed on me the necessity of seeing that the - caravan was peopled with men from many tribes, as friction is better than - a sort of trust among themselves. Clarence appeared to have no wish to - take his own relatives along, as is so often the case, and we had no - bother in the matter. But we were dreadfully ‘had’ over six rough ponies - we bought. We gave one hundred and fifty rupees each for them and they - were dear at forty. However, much wiser people than Cecily and myself go - wrong in buying horses! Later in the trip we acquired a better pony apiece - and so pulled through all right. - </p> - <p> - My cousin has a very excellent appetite, and is rather fond of the - flesh-pots generally, and gave as much attention to the engaging of a - suitable cook as I did to the purchase of the camels. No lady ever emerged - more triumphantly from the local Servants’ Registry Office after securing - the latest thing in cooks than did Cecily on rushing out of the bungalow - at express speed to tell me she had engaged a regular Monsieur Escoffier - to accompany us. - </p> - <p> - What he could not cook was not worth cooking. Altogether we seemed in for - a good time as far as meals were concerned. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile Clarence had produced from somewhere about forty-five camels, - and I judged it about time to launch a little of the knowledge I was - supposed to have gathered from my shikâri uncle. I told Clarence I would - personally see and pass every camel we bought for the trip, and prepared - for an inspection in the Square. I suffered the most frightful discomfort, - in the most appalling heat, but I did not regret it, as I really do think - my action prevented our having any amount of useless camels being thrust - upon us. - </p> - <p> - Assume a virtue if you have it not. The pretence at knowledge took in the - Somalis, and I went up some miles in their estimation. - </p> - <p> - As I say, some of the camels offered were palpably useless, and were very - antediluvian indeed. I refused any camel with a sore back, or with any - tendency that way, and I watched with what looked like the most critical - and knowing interest the manner of kneeling. The animal must kneel with - fore and hind legs together, or there is something wrong. I can’t tell you - what. My uncle merely said, darkly, “something.” Of course I found out age - by the teeth, an operation attended with much snapping and Somali - cuss-words. The directions about teeth had grown very confused in my mind, - and all I stuck to was the pith of the narrative, namely, that a camel at - eight years old has molars and canines. I forget the earlier ages with - attendant incisors. Then another condition plain to be seen was the hump. - Even a tyro like myself could see the immense difference between the - round, full hump of a camel in fine condition and that of the poor - over-worked creature. As I knew we were paying far too much for the beasts - anyway I saw no reason why we should be content to take the lowest for the - highest. - </p> - <p> - Finally I stood possessed of forty-nine camels, try as I would I could not - find a fiftieth. I was told this number was amply sufficient to carry our - entire outfit, but how they were to do so I really could not conceive. - Viewed casually, our possessions now assumed the dimensions of a mountain, - and we had to pitch tents in the Square in order to store the goods - safely. This necessitated a constant guard. - </p> - <p> - Everything we brought with us was in apple-pie order owing to the lists so - carefully placed in the lid of each box, and gave us no trouble in the - dividing up into the usual camel loads. It was our myriad purchases in - Berbera that caused the chaos. They were here, there and everywhere, and - all concerning them was at six and seven. I detailed some camels to carry - our personal kit, food supplies, &c., exclusively; the same men to be - always responsible for their safety, and that there should be no mistake - about it I took down the branding marks on apiece of paper. Camels seem to - be branded on the neck, and most of the marks are different, for I suppose - every tribe has its own hallmark. - </p> - <p> - Some of the camels brought into Berbera for sale are not intended to be - draught animals, being merely for food, and with so much care and extra - attention get very fine and well-developed generally. Camel-meat is to the - Somali what we are given to understand turtle soup is to the London - alderman. Next in favour comes mutton, but no flesh comes up to camel. The - Somali camel-man is exceedingly attentive to his charges, giving them - names, and rarely, if ever, ill treating them. As a result the animals are - fairly even tempered, for camels, and one may go amongst them with more or - less assurance of emerging unbitten. When loading up the man sings away, - and the camel must get familiar with the song. It seems to be interminably - the same, and goes on and on in dreary monotone until the job is over. I - would I knew what it was all about. - </p> - <p> - Of course it is a fact that a camel can take in a month’s supply of water, - but it very much depends on the nature of the month how the animal gets - on. If he is on pasture, green and succulent, he can go on much longer - than a month, but if working hard, continuously, and much loaded, once a - week is none too often to water him. They are not strong animals; far from - it, and they have a great many complaints and annoyances to contend with - in a strenuous life. The most awful, to my mind, is sore back and its - consequences. This trouble comes from bad and uneven lading, damp mats, - &c., and more often than not the sore is scratched until it gets into - a shocking condition. Flies come next, and maggots follow, and then a - ghastly Nemesis in the form of the rhinoceros bird which comes for a meal, - and with its sharp pointed beak picks up maggots and flesh together. When - out at pasture these birds never leave the browsing camels alone, clinging - on to shoulders, haunch, and side, in threes and fours. - </p> - <p> - We had now in our caravan, not counting Clarence and the cook, two boys - (men of at least forty, who always referred to themselves as “boys”) to - assist the cook, one “makadam,” or head camel-man, twenty-four camel men, - four syces, and six hunters, to say nothing of a couple of men of all - work, who appeared to be going with us for reasons only known to - themselves. - </p> - <p> - In most caravans the head-man and head shikari are separate individuals, - but in our show Clarence was to double the parts. It seemed to us the - wisest arrangement. He was so excellent a manager, and we knew him to be a - mighty hunter. - </p> - <p> - The chaos of purchases included rice, <i>harns</i> or native water-casks, - ordinary water barrels calculated to hold about twelve gallons apiece, - blankets for the men, <i>herios</i>, or camel mats, potatoes, <i>ghee</i>, - leather loading ropes, numerous native axes, onions, many white tobes for - gifts up country, and some <i>Merikani</i> tobes (American made cloth) - also for presents, or exchange. Tent-pegs, cooking utensils, and crowds of - little things which added to the confusion. A big day’s work, however, set - things right, and meanwhile Cecily had discovered a treasure in the way of - a butler. He had lived in the service of a white family at Aden, and so - would know our ways. - </p> - <p> - We had taken out a saddle apiece, as the double-peaked affair used by the - Somalis is a very uncomfortable thing indeed. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0051.jpg" alt="0051 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0051.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - Rice for the men’s rations we bought in sacks of some 160 pounds, and two - bags could be carried by one camel. Dates, also an indispensable article - of diet, are put up in native baskets of sorts, and bought by the <i>gosra</i>, - about 130 pounds, and two <i>gosra</i> can be apportioned to a camel. <i>Ghee</i>, - the native butter, is a compound of cow’s milk, largely used by the - Somalis to mix with the rice portion, a large quantity of fat being - needful ere the wheels go round smoothly. It is bought in a bag made of a - whole goat skin, with an ingenious cork of wood and clay. Each bag, if my - memory serves me rightly, holds somewhere about 20 pounds, and every man - expects two ounces daily unless he is on a meat diet, when it is possible - to economise the rice and dates and <i>ghee</i>. - </p> - <p> - The camel mats, or <i>herios</i>, are plaited by the women of Somaliland, - and are made from the chewed bark of a tree called Galol. The <i>harns</i> - for water are also made from plaited bark, in different sizes, and when - near a <i>karia</i>, it is quite usual to see old women and small children - carrying on their backs the heaviest filled <i>harns</i>, whilst the men - sit about and watch operations. The <i>harns</i>, which hold about six - gallons of water, are—from the camels’ point of view anyway—the - best for transport purposes. Six can be carried at once, but a tremendous - amount of leakage goes on, and this is very irritating, upsetting - calculations so. The water-casks were really better, because they were - padlocked, and could also be cleaned out at intervals. But of these only - two can go on a camel at one time. - </p> - <p> - Our own kit was mostly in tin uniform cases, these being better than - wooden boxes on account of damp and rainy weather. Leather, besides being - heavy, is so attractive to ants. Our rifles, in flat cases, specially - made, were compact and not cumbersome, at least not untowardly cumbersome. - Our food stores were in the usual cases, padlocked, and a little of - everything was in each box, so that we did not need to raid another before - the last opened was half emptied. The ammunition was carried in specially - made haversacks, each haversack being marked for its particular rifle, and - more spare ammunition was packed away in a convenient box, along with - cleaning materials, &c. We made our coats into small pantechnicons, - and the pockets held no end of useful small articles and useful - contraptions. My two coats, one warm khaki serge, one thin drill, were - both made with recoil pads as fixtures, and this was an excellent idea, as - they saved my shoulder many hard knocks. - </p> - <p> - We heard of a man who was anxious to go out as skinner, but the - Opposition, for we had by now christened the rival camp so, snapped him up - before we had an opportunity to engage him. On learning of our - disappointment they nobly volunteered to waive their claim, but when I saw - the trophy in discussion I would not take him into our little lot at any - price. A more crafty, murderous-looking individual it would be hard to - find. - </p> - <p> - The Opposition watched us do some of the packing, and were green with envy - as they handled our rifles. The elder tried to induce me to sell him my - double-barrelled hammerless ejecting .500 Express. I don’t know how I was - meant to be able to get along without it, but I suppose he didn’t think - that mattered. - </p> - <p> - It was then that Clarence, who had, I believe, been yearning to ask all - along, wanted to know if I was any good with a rifle, and the other - Mem-sahib could she shoot, and if so how had we learned, for the Somalis - are nothing if not direct. They rather remind me of English North-country - people with their outspoken inquisitiveness, which is at home always - regarded as such charming straightforwardness of character. - </p> - <p> - I was as modest as I could be under the circumstances, but I had to allay - any fears the man might be harbouring. Besides, it is not well to - under-estimate oneself, especially to a Somali. Nowadays everywhere it is - the thing to remove the bushel from one’s light and to make it glare in - all men’s eyes. My advice to any one who wants to be heard of is—Advertise, - advertise, advertise. If you begin by having a great opinion of yourself - and talk about it long enough, you generally end by being great in the - opinion of everyone else. I told our shikari I had the use of my uncle’s - fine range at home, and the advantage of what sport there was to be had in - England and Scotland. Also that this was not our first expedition. The - knowledge of all this and my unbounded confidence, not to say cheek, set - all doubts at rest. - </p> - <p> - Every night I was rendered desperate by the scratching in my room of some - little rodent which thundered about the floor as though his feet were shod - with iron. - </p> - <p> - Hurrah! At last I had him! He stole my biscuits set for my “chota hazari,” - and sometimes left me stranded. They resided in a tin by my bedside. - Kismet overtook him, and his nose was in the jaws of a gin. He was killed - <i>instanter</i>, and the cat dropped in to breakfast. - </p> - <p> - I helped her to him. - </p> - <p> - She commenced on his head, and finished with his tail, a sort of cheese - straw. This is curious, because a lion, which is also a cat, begins at the - other end. Domesticity reverses the order of a good many things. - </p> - <p> - He left no trace behind him. Unknown (except to me) he lived, and - uncoffined (unless a cat may be called a coffin) he died. By the way, <i>he</i> - was a rat. - </p> - <p> - One afternoon Cecily and I walked along the sea coast at Berbera, and came - on the most remarkable fish, jumping into the sea from the sandy shore. I - asked a resident about this, and he said the fish is called “mud-skipper”—a - name that seems to have more point about it than most. - </p> - <p> - So, at last, we reached the day fixed for the starting of the great trek. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III—THE STARTING OF THE GREAT TREK - </h2> - <p class="indent20"> - My necessaries are embark’d - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Hamlet - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Occasion smiles upon a second leave - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Hamlet - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>t three o’clock in - the morning we joined our caravan, all in readiness, in the Square. It was - still dark, but we could see the outline of the waiting camels loaded up - like pantechnicon vans, and our ponies saddled in expectation of our - coming. The Opposition, who had mapped out a different route, beginning by - skirting the borders of the now barred reserve for game in the Hargaisa, - got up to see us start and wish us “Good hunting.” What our men thought of - us and the expedition generally I cannot conjecture. Outwardly at least - they gave no sign of astonishment. Clarence gave the word to march, and we - set out, leaving Berbera behind us, and very glad we were to see the - suburbs a thing of the past. The flies and the sand storms there are most - hard to bear, and a little longer sojourn would have seen both of us in - bad tempers. - </p> - <p> - We made up our minds from the first to have tents pitched every night - under any circumstances, and never do any of that sleeping on the ground - business which seems to be an indispensable part of the fun of big game - shooting. We also resolved to share a tent for safety’s sake, but after a - little, when we had begun to understand there was nothing on earth to be - afraid of, we “chucked” this uncomfortable plan and sported a tent apiece. - </p> - <p> - On clear nights I always left the flap of the tent open. - </p> - <p> - I loved to see the wonderful blue of the sky, so reminiscent of the - chromo-lithograph pictures admired so greatly in childhood’s days. And I - would try and count the myriad stars, and trace a path down the Milky Way. - How glorious it was, that first waking in the early, early morning with - dark shadows lurking around, the embers of the fires glowing dully, and—just - here—a faint breeze blowing in with messages from the distant sea. - </p> - <p> - The long string of grunting camels ahead looked like some pantomime snake - of colossal proportions as it wriggled its way through the low thorn - bushes which, here and there, grew stunted and forlorn; camels move with - such an undulating gait, and the loads I had trembled about seemed to be a - mere bagatelle. - </p> - <p> - All too soon came the day, and, with the day, the sun in fiery splendour, - which speedily reduced us both to the condition of Mr. Mantalini’s - expressive description of “demn’d, damp, unpleasant bodies.” The glitter - from the sand made us blink at first, but, like everything else, we got - perfectly inured to it, and dark days or wet seemed the darker for its - loss. - </p> - <p> - Jerk! And all the camels stopped and bumped into each other, like a train - of loaded trucks after a push from an engine. The front camel decided he - would rest and meditate awhile, so sat down. He had to be taught the error - of such ways, and in a volley of furious undertones from his driver be - persuaded to rise. - </p> - <p> - We passed numerous camels grazing, or trying to, in charge of poor - looking, half-fed Somali youths. There is no grazing very near into - Berbera, very little outside either unless the animals are taken far - afield. Here they were simply spending their energy on trying to pick a - bit from an attenuated burnt-up patch of grass that would have been - starvation to the average rabbit. - </p> - <p> - The camel men in charge came over to exchange salaams with ours, and - proffer camels’ milk, in the filthiest of <i>harns</i>, to the “sahibs.” - We couldn’t help laughing. But for our hair we looked undersized sahibs - all right, I suppose, but we couldn’t face the milk. It would have been - almost as disagreeable as that bilge water tea. - </p> - <p> - We each rode one of our expensive steeds, and I had certainly never ridden - worse. I called mine “Sceptre,” and “Sceptre” would not answer to the rein - at all. I think his jaw was paralysed. He would play follow the leader, so - I rode behind Cecily. - </p> - <p> - The cook of cooks made us some tea, but I don’t think the kettle had - boiled. Cecily said perhaps it wasn’t meant to in Somaliland. I asked her - to see that we set the fashion. - </p> - <p> - We rested during the hottest hours, and then trekked again for a little in - the evening. There was no need to form a thorn zareba the first night out, - as we were practically still in Berbera—at least I felt so when I - knew we had covered but some fifteen miles since dawn. Perhaps it will be - as well here to describe our clothes for the trip. We wore useful khaki - jackets, with many capacious pockets, knickerbockers, gaiters, and good - shooting boots. At first we elected to don a silly little skirt that came - to the knee, rather like the ones you see on bathing suits, but we soon - left the things off, or rather they left us, torn to pieces by the thorns. - </p> - <p> - Mosquitoes do not like me at all in any country, but we had curtains of - course, and they served, very badly, to keep out the insects that swarmed - all over one. - </p> - <p> - Next day as we progressed, we saw numerous dik-dik, popping up as suddenly - as the gophers do in Canada. They are the tiniest little things, weighing - only about four pounds, and are the smallest variety of buck known. The - back is much arched, grey brown in colour, with much rufous red on the - side. The muzzle is singularly pointed. The little horns measure usually - about two and a half inches, but the females are hornless. - </p> - <p> - The ground we went over was very barren and sandy, rather ugly than - otherwise, and there was no cover of any kind. Any thought of stalking the - small numbers of gazelle we saw was out of the question. Besides, our main - object was to push on as fast as possible to the back of beyond. - </p> - <p> - In the evenings we always did a few miles, and camped where any wells were - to be found. The water was full of leeches, but we carefully boiled all - the drinking water for our personal use. The Somalis seem to thrive on the - filthiest liquid. - </p> - <p> - The cook got a leech of the most tenacious principles on to his wrist, and - made the most consummate fuss. A bite from a venomous snake could hardly - have occasioned more commotion. I can’t imagine what the condition of the - man would have been had the leech stayed as long as it intended. I put a - little salt on its tail, and settled the matter. By the end of the next - short trek we reached the Golis Range, taking them at their narrowest - part. The whole place had changed for the better. Clear pools of water - glistened bright among a riot of aloes and thorns, and there was also a - very feathery looking plant, of which I do not know the name. - </p> - <p> - For the first time we said to each other, “Let us go out and kill - something, or try to.” There was always the dread of returning to camp - unblooded, so to speak, when Clarence might, or would, or should, or could - regard us as two amiable lunatics not fit to be trusted with firearms. - This is a woman all over. Try as she will she cannot rise superior to - Public Opinion—even the opinion of a crowd of ignorant Somalis! - After all, what is it? “The views of the incapable Many as opposed to the - discerning Few.” - </p> - <p> - We agreed to separate, tossing up for the privilege of taking Clarence. To - my infinite regret I drew him. As a rule when we tossed up we did it again - and again until the one who had a preference got what she wanted. Women - always toss up like that. Why bother to toss at all? Ah, now you’ve asked - a poser. - </p> - <p> - But I couldn’t get Cecily to try our luck again. She said she was suited - all right. The fact being that neither of us yearned to make a possible - exhibition before our shikari. There was nothing for it. I took my .500 - Express, and with Clarence behind me flung myself into the wilderness in - as nonchalant a manner as I could assume. I was really very excited in a - quiet sort of way, “for now sits Expectation in the air.” It got a trifle - dashed after an hour of creeping about with no sort of reward save the - frightened rush of the ubiquitous dik-dik. - </p> - <p> - “Mem-sahib! Mem-sahib!” from the shikari, in excited undertone. - </p> - <p> - He gripped my arm in silent indication. - </p> - <p> - “Mem-sahib!” in tones of anguished reproach. “Gerenük!” - </p> - <p> - We were always Mems to Clarence, who perhaps felt, like the lady at Aden, - that if we weren’t we ought to be. - </p> - <p> - I looked straight ahead, and from my crouching position could make out - nothing alive. I gazed intently again. And, yes, of course, all that I - looked at was gerenük, two, three, four of them. In that moment of huge - surprise I couldn’t even count properly. The intervening bushes screened - them more or less, but what a comical appearance they had! how quaintly - set their heads! how long their necks! how like giraffes! They moved on, - slowly tearing down the thorns as they fed. I commenced to stalk. There - was a fine buck with a good head. It was not difficult to distinguish him, - as his harem carried no horns. - </p> - <p> - For twenty minutes or more I crawled along, hoping on, hoping ever, that - some chance bit of luck would bring me in fairly clear range, or that the - antelope would pause again. Clearly they had not winded me; clearly I was - not doing so very badly to be still in their vicinity at all. Now came a - bare patch of country to be got over, and I signed to Clarence to remain - behind. I was flat on my face, wriggling along the sand. If the antelope - were only in the open, and I in the spot where they were screened! The - smallest movement now, and... I got to within 120 yards of them when - something snapped. The herd gathered together and silently trotted off, - making a way through the density with surprising ease considering its - thick nature. I got up and ran some way to try and cut them off, dropping - again instantly as I saw a gap ahead through which it seemed likely their - rush would carry them. It was an uncertain and somewhat long shot, but the - chances were I should never see the animals again if I did not take even - the small opportunity that seemed about to present itself. I had long ago - forgotten the very existence of my shikari. The world might have been - empty save for myself and four gerenük. Nervousness had left me, doubts of - all kinds; nothing remained save the wonder and the interest and the - scheming. - </p> - <p> - It really was more good luck than good management. I afterwards discovered - that the gerenük, or Waller’s gazelle, is the most difficult antelope to - shoot in all Somaliland, mostly from their habit of frequenting the - thickest country. - </p> - <p> - This is where the ignoramus scores. It is well known that the tyro at - first is often more successful in his stalks, and kills too, for the - matter of that, than your experienced shikari with years of practice and a - mine of knowledge to draw on. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread—and - win too sometimes. - </p> - <p> - The herd passed the gap, and, as they did so, slowed up a bit to crush - through. The buck presented more than a sporting shot, his lighter side - showing up clear against his dark red back. I fired. I heard the “phut” of - the bullet, and knew I had not missed. I began to tremble with the after - excitements, and rated myself soundly for it. I dashed to the gap. The - buck—oh, where was he? Gone on, following his companions, and all - were out of sight. He was seriously wounded, there was no doubt, for the - blood trail was plain to be seen. Clarence joined me, and off we went hot - on the track. After a long chase we came on a thickish bunch of thorns, - and my quarry, obviously hard hit, bounded out, and was off again like the - wind before I had an opportunity to bring up my rifle. It was a long time - before he gave me another, when, catching him in fairly open ground, I - dropped him with a successful shot at some 140 yards, and the buck fell as - my first prize of the trip. - </p> - <p> - Clarence’s pleasure in my success was really genuine, and I gave him - directions to reserve the head and skin, royally presenting him with all - the meat. I could not at first make out why he so vigorously refused it. I - made up my mind he had some prejudice against this particular variety of - antelope. I afterwards found that no Jew is more particular how his meat - is killed than is the Somali. The system of “hallal” is very strictly - respected, and it was only occasionally, when I meant the men to have - meat, that I was able to stock their larder. - </p> - <p> - I tasted some of this gerenük, and cooked it myself, Our cook was, indeed, - a failure. He was one of the talk-about-himself variety, and from constant - assertions that he could cook anything passing well, had come to believe - himself a culinary artist. - </p> - <p> - I roasted a part of the leg of my gerenük, and did it in a way we used to - adopt in the wilds of Vancouver Island. A hole is made in the ground and - filled with small timber and pieces of wood. This is fired, and then, when - the embers are glowing, the meat being ready in a deep tin with a - tight-fitting lid, you place it on the hot red ashes, and cover the whole - with more burning faggots, which are piled on until the meat is considered - to be ready. If the Somalis have a quantity of meat to cook, they make a - large trench, fill it with firewood, and make a network of stout faggots, - on which the meat is placed. It is a sort of grilling process, and very - effective. If kept constantly turned, the result is usually quite - appetising. - </p> - <p> - Cecily came into camp with a Speke buck. I examined it with the greatest - interest. The coat feels very soft to the touch, and has almost the - appearance of having been oiled. Speke’s Gazelle are very numerous in the - Golis, and are dark in colour, with a tiny black tail. They have a very - strange protuberance of skin on the nose, of which I have never discovered - the use. Every extraordinary feature of wild life seems to me to be there - for some reason of protection, or escape, or well being. Dear Nature - arranges things so to balance accounts a little ’twixt all the - jungle folk. In the Speke fraternity there is more equality of the sexes. - The does as well as the bucks carry horns. At first I pretended to Cecily - that my expedition had been an humiliating and embarrassing failure, that - I had signally missed a shot at a gerenük that would have delighted the - heart of a baby in arms. But she caught sight of my trophy impaled on a - thorn bush, and dashed over to see it <i>instanter</i>. - </p> - <p> - About this time we were very much amused to discover we had among our - shikaris a veritable Baron Munchausen. Of whatever he told us, the - contrary was the fact. If he brought news of splendid “khubbah,” there was - no game for miles. If we went spooring, he spoored to the extent of - romancing about beasts that could not possibly frequent the region we were - in at all. I do not mind a few fibs; in fact, I rather like them. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “A taste exact for faultless fact - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Amounts to a disease,” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - and argues such a hopeless want of imagination. But this man was too much - altogether. Of course he may have had a somewhat perverted sense of - humour. - </p> - <p> - My uncle had warned me I should find all Somalis frightful liars, and to - be prepared for it. Personally, I always like to assume that every man is - a Washington until I have proved him to be an Ananias. - </p> - <p> - We saw—in the distance—numerous aoul, Soemmering’s Gazelle, - and the exquisitely graceful koodoo, the most beautiful animal, to my - thinking, that lives in Somaliland. The horns are magnificent, with the - most artistic of curves. The females are hornless in this species also. - When come upon suddenly, or when frightened, this animal “barks” exactly - as our own red deer are wont to do. In colour they are of a greyish hue, - and their sides are striped in lines of white. - </p> - <p> - It was not our intention to stay and stalk the quantities of game about - us. Our desire was all to push on to the kingdom of His Majesty King Leo. - So for days we went on, halting o’ nights now in glorious scenery, and - everywhere the game tracks were plentiful. The other side of the Golis we - thought really lovely, the trees were so lofty and the jungle so thick. - The atmosphere was much damper, and it was not long before we felt the - difference in our tents. However, there was one consolation, water was - plentiful, and we were so soon to leave that most necessary of all things. - </p> - <p> - The birds were beautiful, and as tame as the sparrows in Kensington - Gardens. One afternoon I walked into a small nullah, where, to my joy, I - found some ferns, on which some of the most lovely weaver-finches had - built their nests. The small birds are, to my mind, the sweetest in the - world. Some were crimson, some were golden, and the metallic lustre of - their plumage made them glitter in the sun. There was also a variety of - the long-tailed whydah bird, some honey-suckers, and a number of exquisite - purple martins. Two of the last flew just behind me, snapping up the - insects I stirred up with my feet. I watched one with a fly in its beak, - which it released again and again, always swooping after it and - recapturing it, just like a cruel otter with its fish. - </p> - <p> - I tried to find some of the nests of the little sun-birds. I believe they - dome them, but no one quite knows why. It was once thought that it was - done to hide the brilliant colours of some feminines from birds of prey, - but it is done by some plain ones as well. Some birds lock up their wives - in the nests; they must be a frivolous species! - </p> - <p> - Many of the honey-suckers are quite gorgeous when looked at closely—especially - the green malachite ones, which have a bright metallic appearance. I also - watched some little russet finches performing those evolutions associated - with the nesting season only. They rose clapping their wings together - above them, producing a noise somewhat similar to our own hands being - clapped, and when at the top of their ascent they uttered a single note - and then shut up as if shot, descending rapidly until close to the ground, - when they open their wings again and alight most gently. The single note - is the love song, and the other extraordinary performance is the love - dance. It must be attractive, as it is done by the male only, and only in - the breeding season. - </p> - <p> - Farther on I got into a perfect little covey of sun-birds flying about and - enjoying themselves. Every now and again one would settle on a flowering - shrub with crimson blossoms, and dip its curved long beak into the cup and - suck out the honey. The male of this species is ornamented with a long - tail, the female being much plainer. In the brute creation it is always - so; the male tries to captivate by ornaments and brilliant colours. We - human beings have grown out of that and try other blandishments. But it is - curious that the male has still to ask and the female to accept. We - haven’t changed that. We fight just as bucks and tigers do, and the winner - isn’t always chosen; there may be reasons against it. There is just that - little uncertainty, that little hardness to please which gives such joy to - the pursuit. Well, there are exceptions, for the ladies of the bustard - persuasion fight for their lords. - </p> - <p> - On my way back to camp I saw a buck and Mrs. Buck of the Speke genus. The - former stood broadside on, and almost stared me out of countenance at - fifty paces. He evidently knew I was unarmed. Why do they always stand - broadside on? I’ve never seen it explained. I suppose it is partly because - he is in a better position for flight. - </p> - <p> - At this camp we were caught in a continuous downpour which lasted - twenty-four hours, intermixed with furious thunderstorms. Cecily’s tent - (fortunately she was in mine at the time) was struck, producing some - curious results. The lightning split the bamboo tent-pole into shreds and - threw splinters about that, when collected, made quite a big bundle. The - hats and clothes which were hanging on to the pole were found flung in all - directions, but nothing was burnt. The lightning disappeared into the - loose soil, without appreciably disturbing it. - </p> - <p> - Then we had a glorious day sandwiched in, but returned again to the winter - of our discontent and Atlantic thunderstorms. It was rather unfortunate to - emerge from one rain to enter another. We took the precaution this time to - entrench ourselves so that the tents were not flooded, but the poor camels - must have had a bad time. - </p> - <p> - The sun reappeared at last, after a long seclusion, and all our clothes, - beds, and chattels had to be dried. Never has old Sol had a warmer - welcome. All nature aired itself. - </p> - <p> - We moved on and now found it needful to form a zareba at night. Into this - citadel of thorns and cut bushes the camels were driven and our tents set - up. At intervals of a few yards fires blazed, and a steady watch was kept. - </p> - <p> - We camped in one place for two days in order to fill up every water cask, - and here Cecily and I, going out together one morning quite early, had the - luck to come on a whole sounder of wart hog. I shall never forget the - weird and extraordinary spectacle they presented. A big boar, rather to - the front, with gleaming tushes, stepping so proudly and ever and again - shaking his weighty head. They all appeared to move with clockwork - precision and to move slowly, whereas, as a matter of fact, they were - going at a good pace. We dropped, and I took a shot at the coveted prize, - and missed! The whole sounder fled in panic, with tails held erect, a very - comical sight. We doubled after them through the bush, and bang! I had - another try. They were gone, and the whole jungle astir. - </p> - <p> - I bagged a very fine Speke’s Gazelle here, but am ashamed to say it was a - doe. It is very hard sometimes to differentiate between the sexes in this - species. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0071.jpg" alt="0071 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0071.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - I was very much looking forward to the opportunity of bagging an oryx, I - admire the horns of this antelope so greatly, though I suppose they are - not really to be compared in the same breath with those of the koodoo. The - oryx is very powerfully made, about the size of a pony, and the horns are - long and tapering. They remind me of a vast pair of screws, the “thread” - starting from the base and winding round to a few inches off the top when - the horn is plain. They are the greatest fighters of all the genus buck, - and the bulls are provided by nature, who orders all things well, with - almost impenetrable protective horn-proof shields of immensely thick skin - which covers the withers. These are much valued by the Somalis for many - purposes, notably for the shields carried by them when in full dress. Set - up as trophies they take a high polish and come up like tortoise-shell. - One or two of mine I had mounted as trays, with protective glass, others - as tables. All were exceedingly effective. - </p> - <p> - By this time we had got to and set out upon, not without some qualms, the - waterless Haud, starting for the first march at cock-crow. In some parts - it attains a width of over two hundred miles across. It all depends on - where you strike it. We did the crossing in ten marches, taking five days - over it. All that time we had to rely solely on the supply of water we - carried with us, which was an anxious piece of work. I do not think we - ever did so little washing in our lives before; water was too precious to - juggle with then. - </p> - <p> - Haud is a Somali word signifying the kind of country so named, and may - mean jungly ground or prairie-like plains. We crossed a part which - reminded us both of the Canadian prairies, dried-up grass as far as the - eye could reach. The waterless tract most crossed by travellers and - trading caravans is arid and barren, and the paths are not discernible - owing to the springy nature of the ground. Parts of the Haud are quite - luxuriant, and provide grazing for countless thousands of camels, sheep, - and goats. Our route lay over a flat, ugly, and uninteresting expanse. It - was no use looking for signs of game. The new grass had not as yet - appeared. Even the easily contented camels had to make believe a lot at - meal-times. - </p> - <p> - We were marvellously lucky in our getting over this daunting place. At no - time were we overwhelmed with the heat. A quite refreshing breeze blew - over us most days, and at night we found it too cold to be pleasant. I - called it luck, but Clarence attributed it to the will of Allah. - </p> - <p> - I got a fine bustard for the pot. A beautiful bird with a dark brown - crest, and a coat, like Joseph’s, of many colours. I saved some of the - feathers, they were so iridescent and beautiful. The bustard tribe in - Somaliland appears to be a large one. I noticed three or four distinctly - different species, with dissimilar markings. The Ogaden bustard had the - prize, I think, in glory of plumage. Even his beak was painted green, his - legs yellow, and all else of him shone resplendent. The cook made a - bustard stew, and very good it tasted. We did not need to feel selfish, - feasting so royally, for birds are not looked on with any favour by - Somalis, though they do not refuse to eat them. I think it is because no - bird, even an ostrich, can grow big enough to make the meal seem really - worth while to a people who, though willing enough to go on short commons - if occasion forces, enjoy nothing less than a leg of mutton per man. - </p> - <p> - Cecily, lucky person, shot a wart-hog, coming on him just as he was - backing in to the little <i>pied-à-terre</i> they make for themselves. She - did deserve her luck, for as I was out, and not able to help her, she had - to dissect her prize alone. Pig is unclean to the Somali. Even the cook, - who claimed to be “all same English,” was not English enough for this. We - kept the tushes, and ate the rest. The meat was the most palatable of any - we had tasted so far. - </p> - <p> - I bagged a wandering aoul, not at all a sporting shot. I got the buck in - the near fore, and but for its terrible lameness I should never have come - up with it at all. His wound, like Mercutio’s, sufficed. One might as well - try to win the Derby on a cab-horse as come up with even a wounded buck on - any of the steeds we possessed. I ambled along, and so slowly that the - buck was outstripping the pony. I slipped off then, and running speedily, - came within excellent range and put the poor thing out of his pain. His - head was the finest of his kind we obtained. - </p> - <p> - The horns differ considerably, and I have in my collection backward and - outward turning ones. Aoul is a very common gazelle in all parts of open - country, barring South-East Somaliland, and travels about in vast herds. - Its extraordinary inquisitiveness makes it fall a very easy victim. - </p> - <p> - Clarence went out with us in turn. His alternative was a fine upstanding - fellow, but after three or four expeditions with him as guide I deposed - him from the position of second hunter. He was slow, and lost his presence - of mind on the smallest provocation, both of them fatal defects in a big - game hunter, where quickness of brain and readiness of resource is a <i>sine - qua non.</i> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV—WE MEET KING LEO - </h2> - <p class="indent20"> - My hour is almost come - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Hamlet - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent10"> - A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing, for there is not - </p> - <p class="indent10"> - a more fearful wild fowl than your lion living - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Midsummer Night’s Dream - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">V</span>ery shortly after - this we came to a Somali <i>karia</i>, or encampment. Its inhabitants were - a nomadic crowd, and very friendly, rather too much so, and I had to order - Clarence to set a guard over all our things. - </p> - <p> - Their own tents were poor, made of camel mats that had seen better days. - The Somali women were immensely taken with our fair hair, and still more - with our hair-pins. Contrary to the accepted custom of lady travellers, we - did not suffer the discomfort of wearing our hair in a plait down our - backs. We “did” our hair—mysterious rite—as usual. By the time - I had finished my call at the camp my golden hair was hanging down my - back. I had given every single hair-pin to the Somali ladies, who received - them with as much delight as we should a diamond tiara. - </p> - <p> - Married women in Somaliland wear their hair encased in a bag arrangement. - Girls plait theirs. The little ones’ heads are shaven, and so, apparently, - were the scalps of the very old men. Clarence’s hair was about two inches - long when we started, and he had a way of cleaning it reminiscent of a - bird taking a sand bath. He rubbed his head with wet ashes, which speedily - dried in the sun, and allowed him to shake the dust out—a <i>nettoyage - à sec</i> process, and very effective. As a rule he wore no head-covering - in the hottest sun. - </p> - <p> - Even the heads of the Somali babies are exposed in all their baldness. I - suppose God tempers the rays to the shorn lambs. - </p> - <p> - The huts are made of a frame of bent poles, over which camel mats and odds - and ends in the way of blankets are thrown. The nomadic tribes in their - treks follow the grass, and occupy the same zarebas year after year. These - they make of thick thorn brushwood, immensely high, two circles, one - inside the other. Between the two fences the cattle are penned sometimes, - but at night the middle encampment receives most of them, and fires are - lighted. All the work of erecting the huts and tending the animals is done - by women, and very often the oldest women and the smallest of the children - have this office thrust upon them. - </p> - <p> - You can imagine that a Somali <i>baria</i> is rather of the nature of - Barnum’s, minus the auctioneering and the shouting and bustle—countless - people, ground all ploughed with the <i>sturm und drang</i> of the - restless feet, and smell—-! - </p> - <p> - It is a wonderful thing that human beings can thrive in the condition of - dirt and squalor in which these wandering Somalis live. They do, and some - of them are very fine-looking men indeed. - </p> - <p> - The majority of the tribes are nomadic. There are some settled, some - traders pure and simple, and some outcaste people, of whom the Midgans - seem the most romantic—probably because he still uses bow and arrow, - lives a hand to mouth existence, calls no <i>karia</i> home, and makes his - bed in the open. - </p> - <p> - Most Somalis wear the long tobe in various degrees of cleanliness. The - real dandy affects a garment of dazzling whiteness. Less particular people - carry on until the tobe is filthy. I imagine the cloth hails from - Manchester. It is cotton sheeting, several feet in length, and put on - according to the taste and fancy, artistic, original, or otherwise, of the - wearer. It is a graceful costume, Cæsar-like and imposing. At night it is - not removed, and seen by the light of the fire each sleeping Somali looks - like nothing so much as some great cocoon. - </p> - <p> - A praying carpet is considered an indispensable part of the Somali - equipment. It isn’t really a carpet at all, being nothing in the wide - world but a piece of tanned hide or skin. Some of our men spent a good - deal of time on the mat, prostrating themselves at the most untoward - moments. Others again did not seem to have got religion, and never called - the thing into use at all. But to every one of them Allah was a something - impossible to get along without entirely. If there had been no Allah or - Kismet to put all the blame on to when everything went wrong, we should - have been in an awkward place indeed. - </p> - <p> - It was at this encampment I purchased two more ponies, not beautiful to - look at but beggars to go. - </p> - <p> - We tried them first, fearing to be done again, and they seemed willing - little fellows, and full of life. Most of the tribes breed ponies on a - small or large scale, and as they are never groomed or tidied up at all - they cannot help a somewhat unkempt appearance. We bought a few sheep for - food, and were presented with a dirty harn full of camels’ milk, horrid - tasting stuff, which we handed over to the men, and so didn’t desert our - “Nestlé” for it. Going among the squalid tents in the <i>karia</i> we - found a woman in a sad state of collapse, although nobody seemed to mind - it save ourselves. More of the Kismet business. She had a wee baby, a few - hours old, lying on the <i>herio</i> beside her. The whole scene was - primitive and pathetic to a degree. I am glad to say we improved matters - considerably. - </p> - <p> - Although water was very scarce, we spared enough from our store to tub the - quaint little baby, going first back to our tents to procure soap and a - few other things. We dressed the mite in a white vest, in which it was - completely lost, to the interest and astonishment of a jury of matrons who - stood around us, ever and again feeling some part of our clothing, tying - and untying our boot laces, and even going the length of putting - inquisitive hands into our pockets. For the mother of His Majesty the Baby - we opened our first bottle of emergency champagne. A right thinking Somali - is dead against strong drink of any kind, spirits being entirely taboo, so - we thought it safer and more diplomatic to refer to the champagne as - medicine. The bang it opened with astonished the listless crowds, and the - effect as the good wine did its work astonished them still more. - </p> - <p> - We presented the headman with a tobe, and then took ourselves back to - camp, accompanied by a rabble of Somalis who infested our zareba until we - struck tents that evening. I had as much of a bath as it was possible to - get in a tea-cupful of water. But a visit to a Somali encampment makes you - feel a trifle dirty. - </p> - <p> - Our water supply was on the verge of becoming a worry, so we had to make a - detour towards a place where rain was reported to have fallen and the - pools could be counted on. Clarence knew all this part of the country - well, and was a most reliable guide as well as everything else. His duties - were multitudinous, and it was marvellous how deftly he discharged them. - He always saw to the lading and unloading, chose the spot for camp, placed - the watch o’ nights, gave out the stores, and kept his temper through it - all. He was a born leader of men, amiable, quick and never sulked; an - admirable thing. Sulkiness is rather a big trait in the Somali character; - it usually springs from wounded vanity. - </p> - <p> - At the water holes we fell in with some more Somalis, who gave the Baron - Munchausen news of lions in the vicinity. By the time our henchman had - elaborated the story the lions were practically in our zareba, and we were - much discouraged, feeling that, in all human probability, judging by - previous results, we were as far off lions as ever. - </p> - <p> - That night, after a somewhat longer, more tiring trek than usual, for the - first time in my life I heard a lion roar. I say for the first time, - because in my superiority I tell you that the grunting, short, peevish - crying heard in the great cat house at the Zoo at feeding-time cannot be - called roaring, after one has heard the wonderful sound of His Majesty - hunting. My heart seemed to stand still with awe as I listened to that - never-to-be-forgotten sound. Terrific and majestic, it reverberated - through the silence of the night, and seemed to repeat itself in echoes - when all was really still. - </p> - <p> - The dawn is the time when lions roar most. They occasionally give tongue - when actually hunting, often after feeding. The sound varies with the age - and lung power of the animal, and has many gradations, sometimes sounding - as though the pain of doing it at all hurt the throat, sometimes the sound - comes in great abrupt coughs, and again one hears even triumphant roars. - </p> - <p> - We rose early. Indeed, I do not think we slept again after hearing the - longed-for serenade, and arranging for all the hunters to accompany us, - set off on our new steeds to spoor for lion. After about six miles of - roughish going we struck the tracks. We examined them with the greatest - interest, and Clarence demonstrated to us the evidence that the spoor was - very new indeed, that the lions were two in number and going at a walking - pace. I soon learnt when a lion was walking and when he commenced to run. - The lion, being a cat, has retractile claws, and therefore when he walks - the pugs are even and rounded. The instant he alters the pace and runs, - the nail-marks are plain, and the sand is usually slightly furred up by - the pad. - </p> - <p> - High above us, sailing round and round majestically, were many vultures. - Sometimes one would swoop low, to rise again. It was plain from the - screaming of the birds a kill was at hand. We pushed on, an indescribable - excitement gripping me. I regarded every bush furtively. What secrets - might it not hold? Abreast of it, passed it. Nothing! - </p> - <p> - I had a taut feeling of strained relief; I glanced at Cecily, but you - could not guess her feeling from her face. I felt I should like to walk, - to feel <i>terra firma</i> beneath my feet, and grasp my rifle instead of - reins; but Clarence had said nothing, and plodded along by my side. He was - walking, but four hunters were mounted. - </p> - <p> - In a slightly open space—the whole of the sandy waste was dotted - here with bushes taller than a man—we came on what had once been a - graceful aoul, mangled and torn. The lions had dined, and that heavily, - only the shoulders of the gazelle being left. The sand was tossed up and - ploughed into furrows in the death struggle, and from the scene of the - last phase wound a lion track going towards a thick bunch of thorn. It - seemed likely the lions were lying up in the immediate vicinity. The lion - feeds in a very businesslike manner, and after a kill gorges himself to - repletion, then, not to put too fine a point on it, goes a little way off, - is violently and disgustingly sick, after which he returns and gorges some - more. Then he sleeps, off and on, for perhaps three days, when he hunts - again. When hunting, immense distances are covered, and though he hunts - alone, his mate comes up with him eventually to share the spoil. They seem - to have some way of communicating their whereabouts that is quite as - effective as our telegraphic system. - </p> - <p> - I felt it was quite time to quit my saddle, and be clear of the pony, so - dismounted and prepared for action, taking my rifle and looking to it. It - was only just in time for my peace of mind. In one tense second I realised - I had seen two monstrous moving beasts, yellowish and majestic. They were - very close, and moved at a slow pace from the bush ahead into a patch of - still thicker cover to the left. I remember that though the great moment - for which we had planned and longed and striven was really at hand, all my - excitement left me, and there was nothing but a cold tingling sensation - running about my veins. Clarence in a moment showed the excellent - stage-management for which he was famous, and I heard as in a dream the - word of command that sent our hunters, the Baron included, dashing after - our quarry shouting and yelling and waving spears. Again I caught a - glimpse of the now hurrying beasts. How mighty they looked! In form as - unlike a prisoned lion as can well be imagined. They hardly seemed related - to their cousins at the Zoo. The mane of the wild lion is very much - shorter. No wild lion acquires that wealth of hair we admire so much. The - strenuous life acts as hair-cutter. And yet the wild beast is much the - most beautiful in his virile strength and suggestion of enormous power. - </p> - <p> - The lions being located, we crept on warily towards the bush, a citadel of - khansa and mimosa scrub, a typical bit of jungle cover. The lions sought - it so readily, as they had dined so heavily that they were feeling - overdone. The men went around the lair and shouted and beat at the back. - Whether the cats were driven forward or not with the din, or whether they - had not penetrated far within the retreat at first, I cannot, of course, - tell, but I saw from thirty-five yards off, as I stood with my finger on - the trigger, ferocious gleaming eyes, and heard ugly short snarls, - breaking into throaty suppressed roars every two or three seconds. The - jungle cover parted, and with lithe stretched shoulders a lioness shook - herself half free of the density, then crouched low again. Down, down, - until only the flat of her skull showed, and her small twitching ears. In - one more moment she would be on us. I heard Cecily say something. I think - it may have been “Fire!” Sighting for as low as I could see on that half - arc of yellow I pulled the trigger, and Cecily’s rifle cracked - simultaneously. The head of the lioness pressed lower, and nothing showed - above the ridge of grass and thorn. The lioness must be dead. And yet, - could one kill so great a foe so simply? We stood transfixed. The sun - blared down, a butterfly flickered across the sand, a cricket chirruped in - long-drawn, twisting notes. These trifles stamped themselves on my memory - as belonging for ever to the scene, and now I cannot see a butterfly or - hear a cricket’s roundelay without going back to that day of days and - wonder unsurpassed. - </p> - <p> - Then I did an inanely stupid thing. It was my first lion shoot, and my - ignorance and enthusiasm carried me away. I ran forward to investigate, - with my rifle at the trail. I don’t excuse such folly, and I got my - deserts. Worse remains behind. It was my rule to reload the right barrel - immediately after firing, and the left I called my emergency supply. My - rule I say, and yet in this most important shoot of all it was so in - theory only! I had forgotten everything but the dead lioness. I had - forgotten the bush contained another enemy. - </p> - <p> - A snarling quick roar, and almost before I could do anything but bring up - my rifle and fire without the sights, a lion broke from the side of the - brake. I heard an exclamation behind me, and my cousin’s rifle spoke. The - bullet grazed the lion’s shoulder only, and lashed him to fury. All I can - recollect is seeing the animal’s muscles contract as he gathered himself - for a springing charge, and instinct told me the precise minute he would - take off. My nerves seemed to relax, and I tried to hurl myself to one - side. There was no power of hurling left in me, and I simply fell, not - backwards nor forwards, but sideways, and that accident or piece of luck - saved me. For the great cat had calculated his distance, and had to spring - straight forward. He had not bargained for a victim slightly to the right - or left. His weight fell on my legs merely, and his claws struck in. - Before he had time to turn and rend me, almost instantaneously my cousin - fired. I did not know until later that she did so from a distance of some - six yards only, having run right up to the scene in her resolve to succour - me. The top of the lion’s head was blown to smithereens, and the heavy - body sank. I felt a greater weight; the blood poured from his mouth on to - the sand, the jaws yet working convulsively. The whole world seemed to me - to be bounded north, south, east, and west by Lion. The carcase rolled a - little and then was still. Pinned by the massive haunches I lay in the - sand. - </p> - <p> - Clarence, Cecily, and all the hunters stood around. I noticed how pale she - was. Even the tan of her sunburnt face could not conceal the ravages of - the last five minutes. The men pulled the heavy carcase away, taking him - by the fore-paws, his tail trailing, and exquisite head all so hideously - damaged. Only his skin would be available now, still—— - </p> - <p> - I sat up in a minute, feeling indescribably shaky, and measured the lion - with my eye. He could be gloriously mounted, and “He will just do for that - space in the billiard room,” my voice tailed off. I don’t remember - anything else until I found myself in my tent with my cousin rendering - first aid, washing the wounds and dressing them with iodoform. Only one - gash was of any moment. It was in the fleshy part of the thigh. We had not - sufficient medical skill to play any pranks, so kept to such simple rules - as extreme cleanliness, antiseptic treatment, and nourishing food. Indeed, - our cook did well for me those days, and made me at intervals the most - excellent mutton broth, which he insisted on bringing to me himself, in - spite of the obvious annoyance of the butler, who had lived in the service - of an English family and so knew what was what. - </p> - <p> - The days and nights were very long just then. - </p> - <p> - Clarence came to see me often. His occupation was gone. Cecily did not - leave me at all at first. I believe our good fellow wondered if we should - ever require him to hunt again. He did not know the proverb, “Once bitten, - twice shy,” but you could see he felt it. - </p> - <p> - One evening, when I was convalescent, Clarence brought one of the men to - us with inquiries as to the best way to cure him. - </p> - <p> - “What is the matter?” was naturally the first question, as we were not the - human Homoceas our men seemed to take us for. - </p> - <p> - Our servant had been chewing—must have been—a piece of thorn, - and a particularly spiky insidious bit had stuck itself well in the back - of his throat, near the left tonsil. It would seem an easy enough thing to - pull out, but it was the most difficult of operations. We could not make - any very prolonged attempt at dislodgment because every time we tried to - touch the bit of thorn the man either shut his mouth with a snap and bit - us, or pretended he must be sick forthwith. It was very laughable, but a - little worrying. We tried nippers, a vast pair, that filled the mouth to - overflowing and hid the offending thorn from sight, We tried blunt - scissors, which Cecily said would not cut because they could not, and - might be relied on to act the part of nippers. Of course they did cut, - when they weren’t needed to, the roof of the patient’s mouth, and matters - grew worse than ever. The light was wholly insufficient, and we could - hardly see at all. The candle lamp never shone in the right direction, and - we laughed so—the two Somalis were in such deadly earnest. I do not - think any harm would have resulted if the thorn had been left where it - stuck until the morning. But no! The men said if the thorn were left the - throat would swell, and if the throat swelled the patient would choke, and - if he choked he would be dead. The cook produced some of the doughy bread - he was past-master in concocting, a sticky mass to act as panacea, and our - thorn-stuck henchman swallowed a lot to the detriment of his digestion. No - use. The thorn would not be levered out. Then—brilliant idea—try - a hairpin! Comic papers have it that a woman can go through the world with - a hairpin as a tool for everything, and come out victorious. I have never - seen one put in the list of a hunter’s requirements—a great - oversight. Take my word for it, a hair-pin does the work of ten ordinary - implements. The rounded end of one hooked round the offending thorn - ejected the cause of all the trouble, and peace reigned in the camp. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0089.jpg" alt="0089 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0089.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V—MORE LIONS - </h2> - <p class="indent10"> - Much better than I was. I can stand and walk. I will - </p> - <p class="indent10"> - even pace slowly to my kinsman’s - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - A Winter’s Tale - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>y leg, with the - extra big gash, was a frightful nuisance. It was not much, but was just - enough to prevent my going out hunting for some time. I could not run at - all; and if you would hunt buck or beast, you must run like Atalanta. From - point to point you scamper on occasion, and it is all as glorious as it - sounds. - </p> - <p> - During the period of my rest I prevailed on Cecily to go out as of old, - and try her luck. I occupied myself in caring for the trophies we had by - now acquired. All the skulls were carefully buried near the largest - ant-hill in the vicinity, and were dug up every time we struck camp. The - earlier trophies were by now picked almost clean. The masks and skins - generally were rubbed with alum, taxidermine, and wood ashes. I was very - careful to smooth out any creases, and gave particular attention to the - magnificent coat from mine enemy. Even with occasional drenchings the - trophies suffered no harm, and we generally in rainy times tried to spare - them a covering of waterproof sheeting. In those days of idleness the - bored-looking camels had been two short expeditions for water supplies. - Cecily did wonders, bagging a fine oryx after an exciting stalk, a lesser - koodoo—a most beautiful creature—and a jackal. It was of the - black-backed variety, with silver hairs and flaming yellow sides, and I - admired him immensely. He was a monster too, and measured four feet as he - lay. - </p> - <p> - The men were revelling in any amount of meat of my cousin’s providing. I - think we were more generous in this direction than are many hunters. The - caravan is expected to rely on the usual ration of rice and dates—the - latter a gummed together mass of fruit, which is eaten by the Somalis in - handfuls. They were quite good, for I tasted them frequently. - </p> - <p> - We bought sheep throughout the trip, either by exchange or for cash; and, - as I say, there was a plentiful supply of venison. - </p> - <p> - As soon as I could ride we marched, and very glad we were to leave the - place where circumstances had enforced so long a stay. The camp began to - take on the slovenly, dirty ways of the average Somali <i>karia</i> The - spirit of idleness sits ill on these natives. They like doing nothing, but - doing nothing does not like them, and very speedily they get slothful. - </p> - <p> - The procedure of our camping arrangements varied but little when things - were normal and going smoothly. On selecting the right spot to halt, every - man went to his own work, and our tents were up almost as soon as they - were taken off the kneeling camels, who flopped down, joyfully obedient at - the first sign of a rest, and, being relieved of the loads, were allowed - to graze at once. Our butler put out everything we needed, set up the - beds, placed our goods and chattels to hand, and prepared a bath each for - us if we happened to be in a place where a bath was not too great a - luxury, and a mere sponge if water was absent. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile the cook had a fire going, or theoretically he had, though very - often it was a long time before it got started. The camel men hacked down - thorn bushes, using native axes, and <i>hangols</i>, or wooden crooks, for - pulling the wood about with. The chant that accompanies all Somali - occupations was loud and helpful. Sometimes we took a hand at this zareba - building, using an English axe or a bill-hook, and the men would laugh in - surprise, and hold the boughs in readiness for us to chop. They liked the - English axes. “Best axe I see,” the camel-man in chief said. But we would - not lend them permanently, because they would have been broken at once. - Every mortal thing goes to pieces in the hands of these Somalis; most - extraordinary. Only tough native implements could stand against such - treatment. Buck were carried slung on Sniders, and bent the weapon into - graceful curves. The sights and even the triggers were knocked off. The - Somali boys broke all the handles off the pans, and seemed incapable of - taking care of anything. Many of the native <i>harns</i> gave out at the - different wells because of the smashing about they received, and meant our - buying more from passing tribes. - </p> - <p> - At night my shikar pistol, loaded, lay to my hand on a box at my bedside, - for what I don’t quite know, as I should have disliked immensely to use - it. But it seemed the correct thing; the butler expected it. He always - asked me to give him the weapon from my belt about supper time, and I next - saw it in readiness for midnight affrays. “Chota-hazari” was served us by - the butler calling loudly outside our tents, or by delicately tapping two - stones together as an intimation that a cup of tea stood on the ground at - the entrance, when it meant making a long arm to reach it. The teacups - were not Dresden; they were of thick enamel—we only had one each and - two over in case of accidents or visitors—and to appreciate them at - their true value we would have needed the mouths of flukes. - </p> - <p> - Sometimes a case of necessaries required for breakfast would be in our - tents doing duty as furniture, and then it was very funny indeed. The cook - would come and chant outside that unless he could have the box Mem-sahib - no breakfast would see, and if Mem-sahib no breakfast saw she would - upbraid the chef because he had not got the box. All this would be woven - into a little tune in a mixture of Somali, Hindostanee, and so-called - English. Mem-sahib would chant back to the effect that the necessaries - would appear all in good time. The cook would retire to stir up the fire - and cuff his assistant, a tow-headed “youth,” whose <i>raison d’etre</i> - appeared to be the cleaning, or making worse dirty, of the pans, and - preparing things for the culinary artist. The tow-headed one was a mere - dauber; at least our cook told us so in effect, with great disdain, when I - suggested the assistant should be allowed to try his ’prentice - hand. That was one day when I got worried about my digestion holding out - against the insidious attacks made on it by the high-class cookery we were - supposed to be having. - </p> - <p> - It was a long time before I got used to the hot nauseating smell of the - camels. It was ever present in camp, and when the wind blew into one’s - tent the indescribable aroma transcended all others. Barring the horrid - odour, we had nothing else to complain of in our patient dumb servants. - The camels were good tempered beasts, taking them all round; very - different to Indian camels, among whom it would have been impossible to - wander so nonchalantly o’ nights. All our camels, save one, were of the - white variety usually to be found in Berbera. The one exception was a - trojan creature, dark and swarthy looking, who hailed from distant Zeila. - He was a splendid worker, untiring and ungrumbling, never roaring at - loading-up time. But the Gel Ad, or Berbera, camel is considered by - experts to be the better animal. We preferred “Zeila” to any animal we - had; we christened him after his home. It is very odd, and may be will be - found difficult to understand, as to explain, but in some of the camels’ - faces we traced the most speaking likenesses to friends and relatives, - either through expression, form, or fancy. Anyway, they were like many of - our acquaintances; and so, to Cecily and myself, the different camels were - thoroughly described and known as “Uncle Robert,” “Aunt Helena,” or “Mrs. - Stacy,” and so on and so forth. One haughty white camel, with a lofty - sneer of disdain and arrogance about it, was so very like a human beauty - of our acquaintance that we smiled every time we looked at the animal. Our - caravan on the march straggled like a flock of geese. Some two or three of - the camel-men had to lead the van; the others lagged behind in a bunch. - The hunters took it in turns to ride the spare ponies, and Cecily and I - rode the steeds we had purchased at the first Somali <i>karia</i> we came - upon. - </p> - <p> - I often wondered what our followers thought of two women being in the - position to command attention, deference, and work—the Somali - feminine is such a very crushed down creature, and takes a back seat at - all times. Even if a superabundance of meat is on hand she is not spared a - tit-bit, but is presented with fearsome scraps and entrails, the while the - masculine element gorges on the choicest morsels. This is rather different - to our home system. I remember an Englishman of my acquaintance telling me - once, with no acrimony of tone, nothing but calm acceptance of the - inevitable, that he had never tasted the breast of chicken since his - marriage five years before! What a glimpse into a household! - </p> - <p> - My first excursion was after that oryx I had so set my heart upon, and - Clarence, to his joy, accompanied me. - </p> - <p> - “Much better than I was,” but still not quite fit even yet. I carefully - stalked a small herd of oryx, four to be precise, crawling about on hands - and knees for upwards of an hour, and when my chance came at last, and a - bull (not anything very wonderful I am glad to remember) passed broadside - on, well within range, I fired—and missed! At the very instant a - violent stab agony in my damaged leg made me cringe involuntarily. The - oryx was gone! - </p> - <p> - I sat down, and but for the presence of my shikari I am sure I should have - cried. - </p> - <p> - Game was now most plentiful, gerenük, oryx, and aoul being more often in - sight than not. Thunderstorms became more frequent, and rain more - insistent. Since leaving the place where we sojourned so long we had not - known one day in which rain did not fall some time during the twenty-four - hours. We had managed fairly well by going out “between whiles,” but now - there weren’t any, and there came a time of no half measures. Steady - downpours bothered us no end. I am very used to water, because my habitat - in England is in that delectable spot where of all other places nobody - dreams of going out minus an umbrella. And I have seen rain in many - corners of the world, but never rain like the Somali variety. It is for - all the world like holding on to the string of a shower bath—it - pours and pours. Of course whilst the rain is on there is no use in - endeavouring to spoor, for all traces of game are simply wiped out by the - floods of water as a sponge cleans a slate. We could do nothing save - remain in our soaked tents and fume. Things were very bad and - uncomfortable at this time. For a whole week we never knew what it was to - be dry. Every mortal thing we had was drenched, and the poor tents were no - more use than brown paper in face of the continued avalanches of water. We - used to wring our blankets each night, and but for copious doses of - quinine I don’t know how I should have pulled through. Cecily pinned her - faith on weak whisky-and-water, of which latter commodity there was now no - scarcity, and both our schemes worked admirably, and bar a little - rheumatism in my left shoulder I carried on all right. At last—“a - fine day; let us go out and kill something” came and, the conditions being - splendid for spooring, we went off bent on an execution—of anything. - </p> - <p> - Running in and out among some rocks were the quaintest little rabbits, - without tails, Manx rabbits, odd stumpy greyish bodies, and an engaging - air of indifference to passers-by. - </p> - <p> - A great yellow-beaked hornbill sat on a tree and made his own peculiar - croaking noise. Most wise he looked as he put his grey head to one side - and investigated us. Yet his looks bewrayed him; for when I threw some - dates at him to see if he knew how to catch them in his beak, he let them - pass him all unheeded. His cousin at the Zoo could teach many things. - </p> - <p> - After a long ride we left our ponies to be led along behind by a syce, and - spoored on foot. Clarence and the two hunters were still riding. We nearly - went off our heads with joy and excitement when we suddenly came on a neat - little path made by lion. The print was perfect. The most perfect I have - ever seen. The soft earth had taken the mould like dough. There were the - fore indents, there the cushions of the pad. We knelt down in our - eagerness to realise how really soaked everything was. The ground was - sodden, and every step oozed water. - </p> - <p> - We ran on, Clarence and the hunters keeping pace easily with us. There - were scrubby bushes all about, but the pugs threaded in and out, and held - plainly on, until they ended in a vast pile of stones and brushwood. An - ideal lair. Clearly our quarry was run to earth. With a “whuff” two mighty - animals leapt up, over the stones and away, just for all the world like a - couple of agile common or garden cats. Cecily and I flew after them. I - don’t think I ever ran so hard in my life before. I might have been the - pursued rather than the pursuer. The ground opened up to great plateau - country, and the lion and lioness were cantering close together, almost - touching shoulders. Making a detour Clarence and the hunters rounded the - great cats up. For a moment it almost seemed that they pulled up dead as - the gallant little ponies dashed by them, but a man is fairly safe on a - galloping pony. I laid this flattering well-known unction to my soul as I - saw the lion go for “The Baron,” whilst the lioness simply broke away, and - vanished in that marvellous manner of disappearing which lions know the - secret of. - </p> - <p> - With quivering tail extended, and most horrible coughing snarls the lion - seemed about to disprove the idea that he was no match for a mounted - horseman. But away and away dashed the sporting little pony, and His - Majesty turned his terrific attentions to us, and in a whirl of tossed-up - mud came to within forty yards of the place where Cecily and I stood in - the open, rigid and awaiting the onslaught. Then we let him have it. I saw - his tremendous head over my sights as in short bounds he cleared the - distance that separated us. I fired simultaneously with my cousin. - </p> - <p> - I was using the heavy 12-bore, but I kept my fingers on the rear trigger - as we advanced cautiously to the dropped lion. He crumpled up like a toy - with the mainspring broken, and sank as he finished his last spring with - his massive head between his paws—a majestic and magnificent sight. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0101.jpg" alt="0101 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0101.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - I measured him previous to the skinning operation and, stretched out, from - his nose to the end of his tail he touched seven feet ten and a half - inches. Of course this was before <i>rigor-mortis</i> had set in, and he - may have stretched a little. His mane was shorter than our other damaged - lion trophy, and entirely clear from the patches of mange we found on one - or two other lions we bagged. But he was infested with ticks. I should - think life must have been an irritating affair for him. - </p> - <p> - We were immensely set up, and only regretted that the lioness had made - good her escape. One of the most extraordinary features about lions to me - is the way so large an animal can obliterate itself; they simply blend - into the landscape. Their brownish-yellow skins, so similar in colour to - the burnt grass, and their agile bodies, which can crouch and wriggle like - any lizard, play parts in the scheme for invisibility. On one occasion - Cecily and I surprised a lion in a small nullah. (We were a trifle - astonished ourselves, too, but that is a detail.) We ran in pursuit, being - out of range, and though we kept our eyes fixed on him, or thought we did, - that lion seemed to disappear as suddenly as though the earth had - swallowed him up. Then Clarence pointed out to us a patch of brown grass, - taller than the rest—any amateur like myself would have sworn it was - grass. “Libbah,” our man said impressively. And “libbah” it was. We - approached and the “grass” with a bound was off! We bagged him in the end, - and he was a very old creature indeed. Alone, and almost toothless, his - day was almost spent, and he died more royally at our hands than ending as - the ignominious prey of some hyæna. He put me in mind of a wonderful lion - picture I saw once at the Academy, which portrayed an old, old lion, at - twilight, in his own beloved haunts, weak and doddering, yet still a king—too - strong even yet to be pulled down by the lurking forms, which with lurid - eyes watched the dying lion from the dark thorn background. I think the - picture was called “Old Age.” - </p> - <p> - The strange inborn dread all wild creatures have of man, unknown man, - makes even the mightiest lion try for safety. There is, of course, no sort - of cowardice in him. In open country he knows the man has all the - advantage, but even then he faces the music grandly when cornered. In - cover, instinct tells him most of the game lies with himself. The Somalis - have a way—I am afraid this is a bit of a chestnut—of riding - down lion that is really a clever performance If some venturesome beast - makes a habit of helping himself to a baby camel or two from the <i>karia</i> - at night, he is a marked beast, and a small army of Somalis prepare to - give battle. Riding their quick little tats, and all armed with spears, - they drive the lion, with prodigious shouting and yelling, into the open. - Here they close around him and harry him hither and thither, dazing the - mazed creature with their cries and hurry. In the end the monarch always - abdicates, and some Somali, quicker than his fellows, finishes the - business with a drive of his spear. It is not unlike the principle of - bull-fighting, except that in the case of the Somalis self-preservation - originates the necessity for the battle. - </p> - <p> - In the lion-world I noticed that the rule of <i>Place aux dames</i> did - not apply. The male invariably tried to take the shortest route to safety, - and madam had to look after herself. - </p> - <p> - Buck of every variety forms the staple food of lions. I have heard that - they have been known to kill wart-hog, but never myself came on any proof - of this. - </p> - <p> - A large trading caravan passed us here <i>en route</i> to Berbera. They - were taking a heterogeneous collection for sale at the coast town, ostrich - feathers, <i>ghee</i>, gum-arabic, prayer-mats and skins of all varieties. - They sold us some <i>ghee</i>, which we were glad to get, as our supply - was running low. Their huts were standing when we came on the caravan, and - on the march were carried on camels as our tents were. Like turtles, we - carried our houses with us wherever we went. We wrote two or three - letters, enclosing them in an outer envelope asking that they should be - posted. Then we gave them to the head-man of the trading party with a - request that he should hand them to the first sahib he saw in Berbera. The - letters eventually turned up at their destinations, so some good Samaritan - posted them. - </p> - <p> - That same evening, as Cecily was riding alongside me, a group of some - twenty Somali horsemen rode up to us, and every one of them closed tight - around us until all the ponies were wedged like sardines. The whole crowd - wished to shake hands and welcome us. The Somali handshake is not a shake - strictly speaking. It is a mere pressing of hands and is prefaced usually - by the salutation “Aleikum salaam,” which you reply to by reversing the - order of it, “Salaam aleikum.” Then generally the interview, if lagging a - little, is materially assisted by “Mot! Mot! io Mot!” (Hail! Hail! Again - Hail!) This is a great feature of the conversation, and, shouted as only a - Somali can shout it, is a rousing welcome indeed. - </p> - <p> - These friends of ours were the outposts of a vast horde of Somalis, for at - some wells we saw multitudes of camels standing in a sort of lake, quite a - good-sized piece of water, in a grilling sun. The water was turgid and - foul, or I should have schemed for a bath out of it. Every one came to - call, and to inquire what we were doing. They crowded round the trophies - drying, putting their fingers on the skins and then tasting the fingers to - see what the result was like. They were a great nuisance, and we had to - trek on again to get away from their unwelcome attentions. One of our - camels fought another as we loaded up. Never did I see such viciousness. - The fur flew, and bites were many, and at last the victor drove the - vanquished roaring before it. The camel-man who valeted the conquering - hero seemed quite charmed, but as the beaten animal had some nasty bites - in the neck, the performance did not seem to us so meritorious. In a day - or two the bites had developed into really open wounds and the men treated - them in cruel-to-be-kind fashion by applying red-hot stones, tying this - drastic treatment firmly over the sore. Burning seemed to be an all-curing - cure, and during most of the weeks a spear was heated with which to raise - blisters on one camel or another. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VI—BENIGHTED IN THE JUNGLE - </h2> - <p class="indent10"> - Mercy o’ me, what a multitude are here! They grow still, - </p> - <p class="indent10"> - too; from all sides they are coming - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - King Henry VIII - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - O, I have passed a miserable night, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - So full of ugly sights, of ghostly dreams - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - King Richard III - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>ne of our hunters, - a melancholy visaged individual, was a very amusing personage to go out - with alone. He always acted like the guide of a Cook’s personally - conducted tour. Not a tree, or twig, or water-hole was left to be seen or - not seen by us. All must be brought to the notice of the Mem-sahibs. It - reduced the tracking of game to a delicious farce. If we sighted an - antelope he would first point it out to me most carefully, telling me - about the distance the creature was from us, perhaps saying commandingly, - “You shoot um,” handing me my own rifle as though he were giving me a - valuable present. - </p> - <p> - Sometimes he even went the length of putting it to my shoulder and cocking - it for me, and was a grandmotherly hunter indeed! He spoiled a glorious - chance for me one day with his chaperoning me through tactics, actually - telling me the precise moment to fire, and when I did, at my own moment, - and—through his rattling me so—missed ignominiously, he - whispered to himself, with a whole world of resignation in his tone, - “Mem-sahib no shoot, Mem-sahib no shoot!” - </p> - <p> - Mem-sahib turned round and gave the idiot a bit of her mind. I had had - enough of being hurried and flurried by his ways. I learned early on to - take no notice of my shikari. Clarence never made the egregious mistake of - obtruding himself. Some of the others were not so cautious, and were very - quick with their ideas and remarks. It is very easy to rattle a person - after a tiring crawl, and throw the whole scheme out of gear to fall about - your ears like an evanescent card-house. One asks time to recover breath - and balance, taking one’s own way. Then on occasion it is necessary to - shoot from all sorts of positions, and it is disconcerting to have any one - commenting. I prefer to be able to sit down fair and square so that both - knees may be elbow rests; but, alas, not often the opportunity is given in - big game shooting to choose your position. You seize the moment, and the - moment may find you placed very awkwardly. - </p> - <p> - We were now again in the most wonderful region for game that the heart of - the most grasping sportsman could desire. Herds of buck were met with on - every march we made, and galloping forms were outlined on every horizon. - If there were more aoul to be seen in the early days of the discovery of - Somaliland as a Land of Promise for the hunter, I do not know how the - ground supported them. If the larger and more dangerous fauna has been - thinned almost to extinction, it would seem that the lesser has thriven. - Fewer lions to find food means more buck to live. - </p> - <p> - You never find aoul in jungle country, and consequently they are of - gazelle the most easily seen. Frequenting the grass plateaus and flat - sandy wastes, as they do, whereon a few straggling bushes try to grow, the - white hindquarters stand out clear and distinct as a target. When going - off, startled, they stretch out, seeming to gain many inches in length, - and when wounded an aoul never creeps off to die in impenetrable bush - where the hunter has a difficulty in locating the hiding creature. - Sensibly he selects the open “bun,” and there is despatched the quicker. - </p> - <p> - On coming to one open space of country I rubbed my eyes to see if I were - awake or dreaming. The place swarmed with aoul. It was like some field at - home, full of cows before milking time, except that these were very - animated creatures, fighting battles together, and making the history for - buckland. I lay down in a tuft of grass for an hour or more, watching the - pantomime. The aoul were in two great herds, separate and distinct. Each - was in the charge of a war-like old buck who had drilled his does into - fine order, and vigilantly saw that they kept a fair distance from the - rival herd. Sometimes a doe of frivolous propensities would essay to seek - fresh fields and pastures new, edging away in the direction of the other - harem. Nemesis was after her on the instant, in the person of her outraged - lord, who gave chase, and cuffing her about most vigorously, soon showed - her the error of such ways, restoring her to his charmed circle again. On - the outskirts of both well guarded harems there were many likely looking - young bucks, who were kept at a respectful distance from the does they - admired so much by the flying charges and battering onslaughts of each - boss buck. To say their lives were strenuous is to convey nothing. They - had no time to eat, or rest, or sleep. - </p> - <p> - Then, by a hideous mischance the two parties of aoul converged, and the - strain was at breaking-point. For the system of all things was disturbed, - and worse than all, the two old bucks met face to face. Now fight they - must for the mastery, or be shamed for ever in the soft eyes of all their - feminine kind. At it they went, hammer and tongs, clawing with razor - hoofs, circling round each other, clashing, crashing. Meanwhile—but - we all know what the mice do when the cat’s away! And this golden moment - was the young bucks’ opportunity. Every Jack found a Jill, and some - fortunate ones many Jills, and ran off promptly with their loot. Then when - the old bucks had fought till they were dripping with foam and - blood-flecked muzzles, the one slightly the stronger would end the fray - with a terrific drive, and send his vanquished foe bellowing back to—nothing. - The harem had all eloped. - </p> - <p> - One might lie and watch a herd of aoul for hours, really in full view, and - not cause them any great anxiety. We never talked save in whispers, and it - was really amazing to see how very indifferent the creatures grew to our - presence. If they did take it into their heads to feign alarm, remaining - quite still seemed to restore confidence in us. The old bucks and does - were the most suspicious; the young were far more trusting. Just as it is - with we human things. Illusions are smashed in buck land as in England. - </p> - <p> - The ridiculous inquisitiveness of the aoul makes him easy to stalk. The - glinting of a rifle barrel seems to charm him rather than frighten him, as - it would one of our Scotch deer. Sense of smell in the buck of the wild is - even more marvellously marked than in the case of our home deer, and it - must be so when we consider the added dangers. Death lurks on every side, - but for one gerunük that falls a victim to King Leo’s appetite, I should - imagine five aoul run into his very jaws in mistaken endeavour to see how - many teeth in working order the fearsome enemy has. Never did I see such - an inquisitive genus! - </p> - <p> - I found one or two newly born kids by watching the mother’s movements. I - would mark the place in my mind to which she kept trotting away, then go - later. It needed so careful a hunt before one would come on the little - kid, covered up so ingeniously, in its cradle in a thorn brake. In a very - short time though the babies get their jungle legs and can follow the - mother at her own pace. I don’t know of any very much prettier sight than - an aoul nursery full of kids playing. They are such sportive little - creatures, just like lambs at home—jumping imaginary obstacles, - running races, mimicking their elders in childish battle. Any little - alarm, crack of twig, or fearsome rustle sends them all, on the instant, - dashing back to the realm of safety by the side of the watchful parent. - </p> - <p> - As I have said elsewhere, the horns of the aoul differ considerably, and - some otherwise well fitted out bucks have no horns at all. These bucks are - often as well able to hold their own as their more perfectly equipped - (so-called) betters, frequently bossing a herd. Others again have but one - horn, and that deformed. - </p> - <p> - It was near this place of the aoul that a most amusing thing happened. - Clarence and I got benighted in the jungle, and didn’t get home until - morning. I know that this sounds just like the plot for a fashionable - problem novel, but there wasn’t much problem about it really; it all came - about as a very natural consequence, and happened mostly through my - enthusiasm over another splendid oryx. I stalked this one for hours and - hours, and the mosquitoes and heat seemed but to sting him into keener - alertness. I <i>could</i> not get within range. I tried on foot, I tried - squirming along the ground flat, and then, when there was nothing else for - it, I’d mount my little pony once again and furiously dash off in pursuit. - When within range I only got the oryx in the leg, a slight wound merely, - and I had to try and ride the wounded buck down. A desperate business in - this case, for he was not hard hit. I did not like the idea of leaving a - hurt creature to die miserably after prolonged torture, so we let him lead - us on and on, and it was very nearly dark before I gave that animal the <i>coup-de-grâce</i>. - By the time we had secured his head, a fine one indeed, his shield and - skin, it <i>was</i> dark. Night had descended upon the jungle. We fired - three times in quick succession, a signal agreed on in case we ever got - bushed, but we knew the wind was blowing away from the very distant camp. - </p> - <p> - I told Clarence we would get away as far as possible from the dead oryx, - or we should find ourselves in for a livelier night than we bargained for, - and have a regular at-home day of most unwelcome callers. We led our - ponies and pushed and scrubbed our way through dense undergrowth, ominous - rents in my poor coat greeting me as the vicious wait-a-bit thorn held me - back. We found the darkness impenetrable in parts, and then in kind of - drifts it would lighten a little. At last we made out a small patch of - clearing, and decided on camping. The first thing to do was to collect - wood for a fire, and as this was a difficult job on so dark an evening, - Clarence just grabbed what sticks he could, lighted them, and the welcome - glare enabled us to amass a great supply of firewood. I worked hard at - this, for I had no mind to be among the jungle folk in darkness. We - tethered the ponies as near the fire as possible, where we could see them, - and I took the precaution to move the oryx head, &c., from my steed, - and place them where I could carefully guard them. I did not want to run - the risk of losing the trophies. Besides, it was rather rough on the pony - to leave him all baited as it were to attract some hungry beast. - </p> - <p> - I should, I think, have preferred to lose the pony rather than the oryx, - but wanted, if possible, to keep both. - </p> - <p> - Next came our little supper, and this was quite excellently managed. I - always carried an enamel cup and many of Lazenby’s soup squares, together - with a supply of biscuits. We had water too in a bottle on Clarence’s - saddle, so, filling the cup carefully, I stuck it into the glowing embers. - When it boiled in went my compressed tablet of ox-tail, and, after - stirring it all with a stick, I had a supper fit for a queen. I made - Clarence a brew of mock-turtle next. He said it was very good, and - finished off all the biscuit. He then suggested he should keep guard and I - might try to sleep. I said we would divide the night, he playing guardian - angel the first half and I taking duty for the rest. I showed him my - Waterbury, and explained that when the hands stood both together at twelve - he was to call me. He seemed to understand. Then I laid me down, but not - to rest. I could not help the fear haunting me that my shikari might nod, - and in that moment of unconsciousness what awful thing might not happen! - Such strange imaginings trouble a semisleeping mind at night that with - daylight would cause us no concern at all. I lay and gazed at the stars. - Sirius was shining away, and Venus was as beautiful a fraud as ever. I - dozed awhile, I suppose, but the strange sounds around me kept my senses - more or less awake. The jungle at night! The most eerie thing in the - world, with strange short rustlings in the undergrowth, the furtive pad, - pad, pad of some soft-footed creature, and ever and again a sound as - though some man passed by, laggingly, and dwelling on his steps. - </p> - <p> - The jungle at night is a world unknown to most shikaris. Even Clarence was - not familiar here. - </p> - <p> - At twelve he called me, furtively pulling my coat sleeve, and saying, - “Wake! wake! wake!” I “awakened,” and took the watch. My rifle lay beside - me on my right, the oryx trophies on my left. The fire was piled up, - shedding shafts of light into the fearsome darkness. The ponies stood - dejectedly. This tense silent watching is more of a trial than playacting - sleep. I fixed my eyes on the inky blackness ahead, and it was not long - before my fancy peopled the shadows with lurking forms. I chid myself. - Suddenly I could make out two blazing lights, gleaming like little lamps. - The eyes of some preying animal. I sidled over to the sleeping Clarence, - and pushed him. He wakened instantly. I told him of the eyes. “Shebel,” he - said. A leopard! This was nice, but why bother us when the remains of a - whole oryx was so close to hand. We sat and waited. The eyes again—sometimes - at a lower level than others, as though the beast crouched as he gazed. - “Let us fire together,” I said. - </p> - <p> - At my soft “One, two, three,” we blazed away at the twin specks of light. - A scuffle, then a hideous screaming cry, that echoed again in the - stillness. Worse remains behind. The ponies thoroughly upset by the - unusual sounds of the jungle at night, and not expecting the enormous - report, simply stampeded before we had time to get to them. They made off - in mad terror, and there we were in a worse hole than ever. Sleep was out - of the question. We made some more soup to pass the hours, julienne and - mulligatawny this time, and after that I fell to talking to Clarence about - England. He asked many questions that he evidently badly wanted answered. - One was to know if these trophies had some great intrinsic value there - that so many people come at such trouble and danger to themselves to get - them? He evidently was much puzzled. - </p> - <p> - At last the dawn came, and at the first hint of it we prepared to move. - The scene was of rare beauty. In the dense undergrowth that hid the trees - to the height of several feet was a wonder world of mystery. Webs of - Arachne’s weaving made bars of silver gossamer from bush to bough. ’Twas - like a scene from Shakespeare’s woodlands. The same thrill and marvel, - joy, happiness and pain. For life is not all a song. Fierce burning strife - comes oft to mar the stillness, death, too, in crudest form. In the jungle - all is one long struggle for survival; no excuses are made, none wanted, - they kill to live, just as we human things kill each other every day; only - in civilisation it is done more delicately. - </p> - <p> - First we investigated the place of the eyes, and there, sure enough, was a - blood trail. We followed but a few yards to find a large striped hyæna—a - magnificent beast, yellow gray, with black stripes on his shoulders, and - beautiful mane and bushy gray tail. He measured from nose to tail four - feet eight inches. We skinned and decapitated him, a long and horrid - business, and then took up our none too pleasant loads and departed. We - passed the remains of the dead oryx, but there was little left of him. The - hyænas had been feasting all the night, and now the vultures were picking - his bones. It was still darkish as we took our way campwards, the mad rush - of the ponies being clearly visible to us. Through bushes, anyhow, helter - skelter they had pelted. - </p> - <p> - I had to stop and rest frequently, as my load was more than a little - heavy, though Clarence carried as much, and more, than he ought. The - rifles alone were no light weight, and when it came to the slain animals - as well we found them all a bit of a trial. - </p> - <p> - In some thick grass a great wart-hog rose up before me, and after giving - me a look from his tiny fierce eyes, lost himself again. I flung my load - down, all but the very necessary rifle, and went after him. He made some - ugly rushes in the long grass, but I dodged and chased him to clearer - country, until I could get in a shot which, raking him, ended his career - as a perfect king of his kind. I did not want to take his tusks merely, as - I desired his head to be a complete trophy. But when Clarence strenuously - refused to touch the creature I knew I could not then, tired as I was, - play butcher myself. So I had to be contented with digging out his huge - tushes. And a very messy job it was too. - </p> - <p> - We took up our loads again, and went back over the ground over which we - had chased the oryx the evening before. I was progressing wearily enough - when I almost stepped on a yellow snake, with a dark head, lying near a - thorn bush. It was only about eighteen inches long, but quite long enough - to make me jump some feet, all encumbered as I was. Clarence looked - genuinely surprised. - </p> - <p> - “You not afraid of aliphint,” he said, a thing we had about as much chance - of meeting as the man in the moon; “what for you ’fraid now?” - </p> - <p> - I told him women have a long-standing quarrel with serpents: that a - serpent once spoiled the happiness of a woman and turned her out of a - garden where she fain would be. - </p> - <p> - “She cousin of yours?” he asked, with true Somali inquisitiveness. - </p> - <p> - “Very distant,” I answered. - </p> - <p> - Cecily and a couple of hunters met us quarter way. She told us the ponies - rushed into camp in the early morning, as I had thought they would. She - had not been unduly anxious about me, knowing I was with Clarence, and - guessing we were bushed. They never heard the shots at all. - </p> - <p> - I did enjoy my breakfast, and never had a cup of tea that tasted half so - good. - </p> - <p> - The thought of all that pork wasting in the near vicinity bothered us no - end. Very greedy, I know. But, you see, dainties were not often to be had. - We ordered out a couple of ponies, and rode back to the scene of my early - morning encounter with the wart-hog to find him, marvel of marvels, - intact. Though a thwarted looking vulture of business-like appearance - flapped off and sat down in stone’s throw. They have a mighty contempt for - man, these birds, or else it is they recognise they aren’t worth powder - and shot. - </p> - <p> - Cecily evolved the idea of converting half the wart-hog into bacon, - putting it into pickle, and promising it would equal the finest home - cured. The ham was to be a treat to which we should look forward for - weeks. - </p> - <p> - We pickled it all right, or what seemed like all right to us, rubbing it - daily with handfuls of salt as we had seen ham cured at home. And then one - day, when a meal was badly wanted, and the larder was empty of all else, - we essayed to cut the treasured ham and fry it in slices. Cecily inserted - a knife. The resultant odour was appalling. So were the awful little - maggots that rose in hundreds. Clearly we didn’t know how to pickle ham, - or else the ham of wart-hog would not take salt as our pig at home does. - We could see the line to where the pickle had penetrated. Below chaos! - Ruefully we had a funeral of our looked-for supper, and fell back on the - never-failing “Elizabeth Lazenby.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII—ANOTHER UNCOMFORTABLE NIGHT - </h2> - <p class="indent10"> - I see a man’s life is a tedious one. I have tired myself; and - </p> - <p class="indent10"> - for two nights together have made the ground my bed - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Cymbeline - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">Y</span>ou can imagine - with what joy I looked forward to a good night’s rest after the previous - twelve hours’ vigil, and therefore it is the more amusing to remember - that, as Fate would have it, I had an even more occupied time during the - midnight hours than ever. We had started to march, after returning to camp - with the wart-hog, as we had news of splendid “khubbah” some miles off, - given to us by a Somali who came in riding his unkempt pony. The Somali - ponies, by the way, are never shod. - </p> - <p> - The ground was very bad going, and over one bit of sandy waste I thought - we never should get. The camels sank in up to their knees at every forward - move, then deeper, and at last so deep—it was almost like an - American mud-hole—I began to fear consequences. The absurd creatures - made no attempt to extricate themselves, but simply, when they found the - place a perfect quagmire, settled down like squashed jellies. - </p> - <p> - It was too ridiculous for words, and I laughed and laughed. Everybody - talked at once, and nobody did anything. At last we all, even the Somali - who brought us the news of the distant game, and who seemed to like us - very much, for we never got rid of him again lent a hand, and began to - unload the laden camels, carrying the goods to <i>terra-firma</i>. some - sixty yards away. - </p> - <p> - The moment the camels considered their loads lightened they condescended - to heave themselves up a little. After loading up again we proceeded but a - little way, indeed but a few hundred yards, when the whole thing repeated - itself. The camels were embedded once more. Cecily and I decided to go on - and leave them all to it, and try and get any sport that might be had, - ordering the men to release the camels from this new quagmire of theirs, - and to afterwards form zareba close to the place, I was really glad to - ride away from the whole thing, confusion and everything. The - disorganised, unsettled feeling I got reminded me of that which comes to - one at home during the annual upheaval known as the spring-cleaning. The - green grass was springing up with the recent rains, and our little ponies - made light of the muddy going. The spoor of all sorts of game was - everywhere apparent, and we were most interested to see traces of ostrich, - although we did not that day come across any, indeed they are rather - difficult creatures to see. - </p> - <p> - We separated, as was our wont, Cecily taking Clarence, and I the Baron, - whom we had now, in spite of his romancing propensities, promoted to - second in command. He had great acumen when he chose to display it, and - was no sort of a coward. But then, in spite of what some travellers say, - the average Somali rarely is. They are frightful “buck-sticks,” but I - never saw any cowardice to disprove their boasting stories. - </p> - <p> - After leaving the ponies with two syces we went off at right angles, and - after a long and heavy walk I came on a bunch of aoul, who winded me and - darted away like lightning. Their flight started a great prize, whom I had - not noticed before, so much the colour of the reddish-brown earth was he. - A dibatag buck. He fled too a little way, but then halted, appearing to - think the sudden fright of the aoul unnecessary. I was crouching low - behind a small bush, and took most careful aim. Off went the long-necked - creature again, its quite lengthy tail held erect. He stood and faced me. - He apparently mistrusted the bush, but had some weakness for the spot. It - was a very long shot, but I tried it. The bullet found a billet, for I - heard it tell, but the buck sprang feet into the air and was off in a - moment. I took to my heels and ran like mad. I don’t know how I ever - imagined I was to overtake the antelope. The Baron tore along behind me. I - ran until I was completely winded, but I could see a strong blood-trail, - so knew the antelope was hard hit. I ran on again, and we were now in very - boggy ground, or rather surrounded by many oozy-looking water holes. It - was a very shaky shot I got in next time. The dibatag dashed on for a few - paces, and then took a crashing header into—of course—the - largest pool in the vicinity. The Baron and I danced about on the edge in - great vexation, but I did not mean to lose my splendid prize even if I had - to go in after him myself. Satisfying myself that the water was not deep, - I bribed the avaricious Somali to go in and help lift the animal whilst I - rendered active assistance on dry land, and this was done. The Baron went - in with a very bad grace, at which one cannot be surprised, and after - prodigious splashing and any amount of exertion, for the buck was an - immense weight, I held the dibatag out of the water whilst the Baron - extricated himself, together with many leeches, from the pool. Then we - both heaved together, and the buck was mine. The Baron now began to make - such a fuss about his loss of blood caused by the leeches who would not - let go I told him to go home to camp and put salt on them and then - recover, and ordered him meanwhile to send the syce back to me with my - pony. - </p> - <p> - I sat down and admired my dibatag, and was mightily pleased with my luck. - For this antelope is very shy and difficult to stalk as a rule. Dibatag - is, of course, the native name, but somehow the one most commonly used - everywhere. The correct name is Clark’s Gazelle. The tail is really quite - lengthy, and the one sported by my prize measured twelve-and-a-half - inches. His horns were good and touched nine-and-three-quarter inches. - Only the bucks carry horns. - </p> - <p> - The dibatag was so large we had the greatest difficulty in packing him on - to the pony as I wanted to do, so we finally skinned him, keeping his head - and the feet, which I afterwards had mounted as bell-pulls. - </p> - <p> - Going back to camp I came on Cecily, who recounted her adventures—not - a quarter so interesting as mine, though, for she had drawn blank. It - would be boring for any one to have to wade through stories of stalks that - came to nothing. - </p> - <p> - “What’s hit is history, but what’s missed is mystery,” though, of course, - each several excursion teemed with myriad interests for us on the spot. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0125.jpg" alt="0125 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0125.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - Sometimes I spoored for hours without getting a shot, involving a great - knowledge of the habits of animals, keen eyes and judgment, all of which - Clarence possessed in a high degree. Then his ability to speak English, - even imperfectly, was such an advantage, and we beguiled many an hour in - conversation. - </p> - <p> - I wonder if we human beings will ever be able to hunt for its own sake, - without the desire for its cruel consummation. Much though I love the old - primitive instinct of pursuing, I am not able to forgo the shot, and - particularly when I want a lovely pair of horns. I suppose we keep the - balance, and if we did not kill the lions and leopards would get the upper - hand. But often I wished when I was flushed with success, and I saw my - beast lying dead, that I had not done it. It seemed so cruel, and all - antelope are so very beautiful. Of course, we had to kill for food as well - as sport, and I think we spared generously on the whole, for we could have - trebled the bag. - </p> - <p> - I began to feel tired of the actual killing as soon as I had perfect - specimens of each sort, and always preferred the nobler sport of more - dangerous game. I think if I went again I could in most instances deny - myself the shot, and content myself with watching and photographing. As it - was, I often lay for an hour and watched game, after crawling to within - fifty yards. On one occasion an aoul and I eyed each other at twenty - paces, and so motionless was I he could neither make head nor tail of me. - </p> - <p> - The camp was in a turmoil and every camel-man shouting at the top of his - voice—the one thing I do object to in Somalis. Their very whispers - almost break your ear-drum, and I suppose a loud voice is the result of - many centuries of calling over vast spaces. - </p> - <p> - Three of the camels, heavily laden, had turned aggressive, bitten several - men, and shaken the dust of the place off their feet. Of course, the - levanting camels proved to be the ones loaded up with our tents and - bedding. They had a very excellent start before anyone thought it - necessary to go in pursuit. It was all gross carelessness, as a loaded - camel is easy enough to stop if the stopping is done by its own driver. - </p> - <p> - There was nothing for us to do in the matter, and supper seemed the main - object just then. The cook served us up some soup and broiled chops, and - we topped up with some delicious jam out of the useful little pots from - the A. and N. Stores, holding enough for a not very greedy person. Cecily - voted for blackberry, and I sampled the raspberry. - </p> - <p> - Night fell, and still no returning camels. I rode out a little way, but - the going was too impossible in the dark. My pony was a gallant little - beast, a bit of a stargazer, but I prefer a horse with his heart in the - right place, wherever his looks may be. - </p> - <p> - I was by this time aching all over, and there was nothing to do but make - provision for as comfortable a night as might be. We collected what spare - blankets we could, and lay down near one of the fires. Though so weary I - could not sleep, and the camp was never silent for a moment. The fires - were kept high, and shots fired at intervals to guide the wandering - camel-men. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0129.jpg" alt="0129 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0129.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - The men lay about or sat about the watch-fires, and in the middle of the - night two of them began to fight. In the lurid light the scene was - sufficiently realistic to be unpleasant. They began with loud words, - progressed to blows, and then advanced to spears. Thinking that rifles - would probably be the next resource, I got up and called on the men to - desist. They took no more notice of me, naturally, than if I had never - spoken. And as the now thoroughly awakened camp appeared to be going to - take sides in the business, I got my “express” and shrieked out loudly - that I then and there meant to make an end of both the combatants. - Although they were not supposed to understand English, they translated - enough from my resolute manner and threatening gestures to know that I - would put up with no nonsense. They ceased the combat as suddenly as they - began it, but not before camel-man No. 1 had jabbed camel-man No. 2 in the - fleshy part of his thigh. - </p> - <p> - I told Clarence to hold No. 1 in durance vile whilst No. 2 had to be - attended to with as much care as if we really sympathised with him. All my - desire was to be able to shoot both of them on sight. I was so tired I - could hardly see, and too aching to do more than drag myself around. We - had to dress the man’s wound for fear of consequences, and went on messing - away with him until the first signs of dawn saw the return of the - prodigals, travel-stained and weary. The camels promptly sank down and - began chewing the cud composedly. Really the camel is the most - philosophical of all living things! - </p> - <p> - Next morning I held a court-martial of sorts on the offenders, and - threatened them both with the loss of the promised bonus to be given at - the end of the trip provided all things pleased us. I also docked them of - some pay. This had the desired effect, and battles, except wordy ones, - were “off” henceforward. - </p> - <p> - The wound by rights ought to have been stitched, but we rather shied off - doing it. The dressing was pantomime enough; I nearly lost my temper many - times. An expedition like ours is a grand field on which to practise - repression, and I was for ever trying conclusions with my capabilities in - that direction. - </p> - <p> - Out early near here one morning we came on an astonishing sight—an - oryx lying down in a thorn patch, and all around him, like familiars of a - witch, crouched jackals, the length of one of their kind apart, watching - with never flinching stare the centre of attraction. We cantered up, and - the jackals reluctantly made off. One big fellow struck me as unlike his - brethren, and a bit of a prize. So, reining in the pony, I jumped to the - ground, losing a lot of time in the process, and fired with rather a shaky - hand. The result was I hit the loping animal in the leg only, laming it, - causing it to howl terribly, and causing me much shame for my unskilled - aim. - </p> - <p> - I pursued my quarry, because I could not leave it out wounded, and - overtook it just as it fled into a lair of thick adad bushes. Dismounting, - I let the pony stand, and going to the bushes I stooped down to peer in, - laying my rifle on the sand. A flare of green eyes and snarling teeth, a - flat yellow head shot out as a snake strikes. My coat sleeve was gripped - in a gin of white fangs, but only the incisors cut into my flesh—caught - by the left arm in a flash. Before worse could happen I pulled my shikar - pistol from my belt, and in the tussle—for we neither of us took - things lying down—the weapon went off anyhow. My enemy sank inert, - still gripping my sleeve. He was hit mortally, and died in a moment or - two. My arm began to smart a trifle, and I had some difficulty in dragging - the wolf-creature from its deep-in lair. It was a wolf, not large—no - bigger than a jackal, and much smaller than a hyæna. Its coat was marked - with brown, and right down the middle of the back was a fine upstanding - length of hair that formed a black-tipped mane or ridge. The tail was long - and thick, very black on the lower part and very yellow at the upper. The - fore feet were five-toed; I counted them carefully. - </p> - <p> - It was a bit of a struggle to lift the carcase across the pony, and I had - to walk, holding it on, to the place where I left Cecily. She was watching - over the departed oryx, and vultures sat around her wistfully regarding - the feast that might have been. In the side of the dead antelope an arrow - still stabbed, and marks of a whole flight were in evidence all over the - glossy coat. Some Midgans hunting without dogs had missed their quarry - somehow. Cecily had put the big bull out of his pain, and there we were - with an <i>embarras de richesse</i> miles from camp and alone. The oryx - had very finely turned horns, and it seemed a sin to waste them. We set - off to decapitate him with the only implement we had, a very small shikar - knife. It took a long time in the doing, and we were so hot and tired and - sick by the end of the performance, I thought we must be struck with the - sun. The water in our bottles was quite hot. - </p> - <p> - The instant we left the carcase of the oryx the vultures came from all - sides, hanging over it with legs poised to alight, screaming as they - flapped along the ground and settled on the bushes around. We took it in - turns to ride the spare pony; the other was a beast of burden for our - spoils. A flock of quail ran ahead and disappeared beneath the khansa. The - walking one walked, and the riding one rode, and at last we had to take - our coats off. The heat grew insufferable, the sun blazed a-shimmer - through the purple-blue coverlet of the sky. Even the sun loving sun-birds - kept in the shade of the bushes. My rifle—best of playthings—took - on a pound or two in weight. - </p> - <p> - Cecily wears perpetually a single-stone diamond ring, given her by a - friend now in Purgatory, if everyone gets their deserts, as we are told is - the invariable rule. The sun danced on the exquisite stone, and as she - moved her hand a glinting light flickered from it on the sand here and - there, like a will-o’-the wisp. - </p> - <p> - Our pony shied—actually pretending to possess nerves—at a - porcupine, who suddenly rustled his quills like the upsetting of a box of - pens. The oryx head fell off, and the mettlesome steed backed on to it, - damaging the horn near the tip against a sharp stone. A small kink, but a - pity. Cecily made the pony walk up to our friend of the quills, but as it - seemed likely to result in the wolf being chucked off also, we abandoned - horse-training notions for the present. - </p> - <p> - Getting back to camp, we found the men lining up for their devotions, so - waited patiently until they were over. Everybody’s creed, or form of it, - should be respected, because each separate religion, multitudinous though - they are, is but one religion, and a part of the vast whole. The seeming - difference in all sects are merely the individual temperamental - superstitions. It does not matter, therefore, if we worship Allah or Joss, - Buddha or Mrs. Eddy. “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any - other name would smell as sweet.” To certain people certain names for - religion are necessary—to others the “Religion Universal” serves. - Now, our chef belonged to—I am sure—the Peculiar People, and - didn’t know it, and called himself a Mussulman of the Shafai sect. He must - have been peculiar to think he deceived us into believing he was a cook, - ever had been, or ever would be. Some people are born cooks, some achieve - cooking, and some have cooking thrust upon them. Our satellite was of the - latter kind. - </p> - <p> - We bought a couple of sheep that night from a passing caravan, but told - the men they would be the last we should provide if the animals could not - be despatched in a quicker, more humane manner. The “hallal” slash across - the throat seems only to be really efficacious if the animal to be killed - is in full possession of its senses. They might easily be stunned first. - When we killed antelope for meat the shikari always satisfied himself - first that the animal was alive before he bothered to give the “hallal.” - This seems rather an Irishism, but you understand how I mean. - </p> - <p> - Somali sheep are never shorn, for their wool attains no length. This is - another of dear Nature’s wise arrangements. I do not like to imagine the - condition of any poor sheep in the Somali sun with a coat on like unto the - ones grown by our animals at home. The number of sheep in Somaliland is as - the sands of the sea. Such vast flocks would be large even in an avowedly - sheep-producing country where the rearing of them is reduced to a fine - art. The Somali animals thrive and multiply with hardly any attention. - They never grow horns, and have the most extraordinary tails, huge lumps - of fat, which wax all very fine and large if the pasturage is good, and - dwindle at once if the herbage is scanty. Carefully fostered, the sheep - raising industry could support the country. The export at present is as - nothing to what it might be engineered into. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII—A BATTLE ROYAL - </h2> - <p class="indent20"> - Take that to end thy agony - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Henry V - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Our happiness is at the height - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Richard III - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he Somalis, as I - have explained before, are almost entirely a nation of nomads, and the - only settled villages or townships are those run by Sheiks or Mullahs, or - whatever name they elect to be known by. These men are Mahomedans with an - eye to business, religious, influential, knowing the value of education, - and are often quite learned. We marched into the vicinity of some hundreds - of huts, and sent Clarence on ahead to present our compliments to the - Mullah and express our desire to call on him. We also sent along a - consignment of gifts likely to appeal to a learned man—a Koran, a <i>tusba</i>, - and a couple of tobes, for even a Mullah has to have clothes, anyway, in - Somaliland. I don’t know whether our sending presents first was correct, - or whether we should have waited for the Mullah to weigh in. We debated - the point, and decided any one with an extra sensible mind would think a - bird in the hand worth two in the bush any day of the week. This village, - if our men’s talk was to be believed, was full of Mullahs, not one Mullah. - We concluded that all the wise and religious-minded men must have banded - together to live as monks do, save that celibacy was not the fashion. - </p> - <p> - The Mullah lost no time in sending us return offerings in the shape of - three sheep, and <i>harns</i> and <i>harns</i> of milk. He also asked us - to go and see him in his <i>karta</i>, as owing to some infirmity he could - not wait on us. All this was very correct and nice. I should think this - Mullah had been trained in the way he should go. - </p> - <p> - We put in an appearance that same afternoon, hardly able to push through - the crowds that lined up in readiness for our advent. The Mullah received - us at the door of his hut, a smiling, urbane personage. I saw no sign of - infirmity, but of course I couldn’t ask what it was. The Mullah would be - about fifty years old, so far as I can judge, and he had the tiniest hands - and feet. His face was full of intelligence, his eyes deep set and alert. - In colour he was of the Arab shade, and some Somalis are almost black. He - was exceedingly gracious, and received our credentials, or passport so to - speak, with serene smiles. He barely read them. I suppose he could. All - the Mullahs can read Arabic. - </p> - <p> - Myriads of children—our hosts we concluded—sat and squatted - and lay about the earth-floor, two circles of them. Cecily says they went - three times round, but no, <i>two</i> large circles. - </p> - <p> - The Mullah asked a great many questions about England—who we were - when we were at home? how it was two women could come so far to shoot - lion, and why we wanted to?—to all of which we replied as clearly - and comprehensively as we could through Clarence. Then more personal - questions were asked. Were we married? “Say no, Clarence.” - </p> - <p> - “No,” said the stolid shikâri. - </p> - <p> - The Mullah reflected a little. Didn’t we think we ought to be? A dreadful - flick on the raw this. If we married how many husbands are we allowed? I - instructed Clarence to say that is not so much how many you are allowed as - how many you can get. Cecily broke in and said that it was enough to - puzzle any Mullah, and that Clarence must explain that one husband at a - time is what English women are permitted, but it is very difficult in the - present overcrowded state of the marriage market to obtain even one’s - rightful allowance, hence our lonely forlorn condition. The Mullah looked - really sorry for us. He said he would like to give us another sheep, and - that he did not think he would care to live in England, but he approved of - the English he had seen. “Best people I see.” We thanked him, salaamed, - and left. We were then followed by a pattering crowd who dodged in front - of us, peering into our faces, and when we smiled, smiled back crying - “Mot! Mot! io Mot!” over and over. It was quite a triumphal progress. - </p> - <p> - At our own camp we found the place invaded by every invalid of the Mullah - settlement waiting in serried rows for us to cure them. Why every English - person, or European rather, is supposed to possess this marvellous in-born - skill in medicine I cannot tell. Some of the complaints presented I had - never heard of, much less seen, and even our learned tome of a medical - work failed to identify many. It was very pathetic, as we were so - helpless. The poor things regarded the book as some saviour come to - succour them. - </p> - <p> - There was enough occupation before us to keep a doctor busy for weeks, - that much we could see. We only dared venture on the simplest - plain-sailing cases, and even if we had used up our entire stock of - medicine and remedies required for our own use it would have been a drop - in the ocean of trouble here. We gave presents as a consoler to the worst - of the invalids, and then, lest they should all return again on the - morrow, we folded our tents like the Arabs and silently stole away. - </p> - <p> - One of our own men required our attention after this. He showed all the - symptoms of ptomaine poisoning, and ferreting into the matter I found that—well - fed as he was—he had gone after the contents of a tin of beef I had - my doubts of, and which I threw away over the zareba fence, and had - consumed the stuff. I was exceedingly vexed, because I had told all the - men standing about at the time that the tin was bad and would poison any - one. Is it not odd that people—especially men—always want and - like that which is denied them? If we could only get at the truth of it, I - expect we should find that in taking the forbidden fruit in the Garden of - Eden Eve did it at the express wish of Adam who wanted it badly, and had - not the moral courage to take it for himself. By the way, it may not be - generally known that quite a lot of learned people claim that Eden existed - in Somaliland. - </p> - <p> - To return to the subject in hand again. Just imagine a well-looked-after - camel-man deliberately going and making a meal of doubtful meat just - because it was forbidden him. Ah, well! is it not said that “the dearest - pleasure of the delicately nurtured is a furtive meal of tripe and - onions”? Perhaps our follower took the beef as a surreptitious dish of - that kind. The analogy may seem a little “out,” but it is there if you - look for it. - </p> - <p> - One day, somewhere about this time, I was fortunate enough to witness a - great and splendid sight, a battle to the death between two bull oryx. I - had been lunching on sandwiches of their kind—alas! their poor - brother!—and was resting awhile on the verge of a thick bit of - country, a natural clearing with thick thorn cover around. I kept very - silent—I was in fact very sleepy—when I heard the war - challenge of some genus buck, imperious and ringing, and not far away. It - was replied to instantly. Again it sounded louder and nearer. I raised - myself and looked about. From out the dense brushwood, but a few hundred - yards away, and from opposite sides, sprang a fine up-standing oryx. - Crash! And the great bulls were at each other. Clawing with hoofs and - teeth and rapier horns. Then backwards they would sidle, and each taking a - flying start would come together with a sickening crash, and all the while - each tried every possible tactic to drive the merciless horns home. I held - my breath with excitement, as in theirs I was permitted to creep almost up - to the panting, foam-flecked warriors. I could have shot both, but as I - was strong so was I merciful. It was a great and glorious struggle, and - the laurels should be to the victor. For quite a long time it was - impossible to tell which was the stronger, but at last the right-hand buck—for, - oddly enough, though they circled round each other each always charged - from the side from which he commenced to give battle—began to show - signs of tremendous stress, and the telling blows of his opponent wore him - down more and more. No longer was he able to parry the lunges of his - infuriated foe, who, like lightning, took instant advantage of the - on-coming weakness of the stricken buck, and rushing in on a flying charge - like a whirlwind, inserted his rapier-like horns into his enemy’s side and - gored him unmercifully. - </p> - <p> - This is where I came in. I would not shoot the victor, for he had won his - battle in fair fight. It was the survival of the fittest. As he shook his - dripping horns and looked at me with blood-shot eyes and frothing muzzle, - I saw he was a youngster in the height of his prime, and that the stricken - buck was old. The victor and I looked at one another, and I threw my rifle - up. A charge from a maddened oryx would be no simple thing. But I did not - want to take his life unless compelled. A soft, low whinnying noise in the - bush: he was off, and I was forgotten. <i>Cherchez la femme</i>, even in - oryx land! I walked up to the dying buck, and Clarence, who had seen the - whole thing also, hurried up and asked me if he might “hallal” quickly and - save the meat. A Somali could not be expected to appreciate sentimental - reasons, so I did not urge mercy towards the utterly vanquished, mostly - because the kindest course was to put the beast out of pain. His horns - were the horns of a mighty fighter, and his shield bore the cuts and - indents of many battles. But his day was over, and his harem passed to a - new lord. - </p> - <p> - The ground was all ploughed up with the scuffle. - </p> - <p> - The head of the dead oryx was poor. It looked old, and was moreover the - worse for strenuous living, being in parts hairless. As I now had better - heads, I took his shield merely, as a souvenir of the great fight. It is - now a little tea-tray from which I peacefully drink tea. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0143.jpg" alt="0143 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0143.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - We struck camp next day, and trekked along the borders of the Ogaden - country. That night we had a camel looted. A camel seems a bit of an - undertaking to run off with, as more often than not he won’t move when you - want him to. I suspect there was some collusion on the part of the - camel-man in charge, but I never could bring it home to one of them. - </p> - <p> - Our clothes were now in a shocking state of repair, or disrepair. What - with wait-a-bit thorns, drenching rain, torrid sun, wriggling on the - ground, kneeling and grovelling about, we were the most awful scarecrows - you ever saw. But we were intensely happy. That is the wonder of the wild. - One forgets clothes—and that is much for a woman to say—newspapers - and letters. What was going on in the world we knew not, nor did we care. - I cannot conceive the heart of man desiring more than was ours just then. - The glories of the jungle were all for us; every dawn brought something - new, and everywhere we could trace the wonders of the world in which we - lived: each morning come on romance in footprints, tragedy in massed - spoor, “sermons in stones, and good in everything.” - </p> - <p> - It is not to be thought that all things went smoothly. In a big caravan of - the kind such an idyllic condition of things would be well-nigh - impossible. There were the most awkward disagreeablenesses and - unpleasantnesses of all sorts to bother us. I hate sporting books full of - grumbling and tales of discomforts. Nobody asked the sportsman to - undertake the job, and nobody cares if he “chucks” it. Therefore why write - reams about miseries when there are so many things to make up for them? No - life is all <i>couleur de rose</i>; but we can make light of the darkness, - “walk in its gardens, and forget the rain.” - </p> - <p> - Ostrich spoor was now all about, but they are the most difficult of all - things to come on at close quarters. I stalked odd birds, birds in twos, - birds in trios for hours, but never came within any sort of range. - </p> - <p> - All the natural history as told to me in childish days about the ostrich - burying its head in the sand and imagining itself hidden I found very much - of a nursery romance. The ostrich takes no chances, and, so far from - burying its head, has to thank the length of its neck for much of its - safety. - </p> - <p> - After days of wriggling about on the flanks of ostrich, in the front and - in the rear, I confided my chagrin to Clarence. He said he had <i>a Plan</i>. - I told him I was delighted to know that, and would he unfold it at once? - It seems very ridiculous, but just because I could not bag an ostrich the - bird seemed to me the be-all and end-all of the trip. I am a woman all - over, it seems. - </p> - <p> - Well, Clarence’s idea was this: Ostrich never eat at night; therefore, if - you persistently chase the <i>same</i> ostrich for two or three days - consecutively it follows, of course, that the bird must give in sooner or - later—sooner, Clarence hoped—from want of food and exhaustion. - Or, if a hen ostrich could only be procured—just as though I was not - prepared to welcome her—it would not be long before I should have a - near view of a cock bird, who would come along with a view to a possible - introduction to Miss Ostrich. She was to be tied to a thorn bush behind - which I should be ensconced. It did not seem at all a sporting thing to - do. Love’s young dream should not be made a potent factor in a deadly - business of the kind. Love spells life, not death. - </p> - <p> - The other idea did not commend itself to me either with any gusto. I had - no mind myself to go riding after ostrich as though it were a trophy - beyond price. Neither did I want to detail any of the men for the job. It - was just as well we did not trouble for—such are the chances of - hunting, when the position of things may change from success to failure, - from failure to success in the blinking of an eyelid—I suddenly came - on two birds—two grey hens—one afternoon as I was returning - from a fruitless expedition after a lion that must have left the - neighbourhood a week before. One hen was picking the new grass that was - everywhere springing up, the other was playing sentry. And very well she - did it too, marching up and down with head erect and alert eyes. They had - not winded us. We were covered by fairly dense wait-a-bit. The birds, - however, were entirely out of range. I was now on foot, and flung myself - down, as had Clarence. We then raised ourselves sufficiently to cut as - silently as we could a bunch of the awful prickly grass, all mixed with - thorn spikes, and though it scratched me like fun, and I heard my poor - garments ripping away, I took the screen from Clarence and holding it well - in front of me wriggled to the edge of the open country in front of me. I - did feel absurd, and how was I to get within range of those knowing birds, - all encumbered as I was too, with my weapon and my wait-a-bit? It <i>was</i> - wait-a-bit! I took half an hour to crawl a few yards. But the birds still - went on picking the grass in the peculiar way they have, taking turns at - sentry-go. They had great doubts about this small tuft that had grown up - in a day, mushroom-like, and it was only when sentry turned and paced the - other way I could progress at all. The bird who was doing the eating did - not trouble itself so much. At last, wonderful to relate, I really got - within range, and then it was a toss up which bird to choose. I really - considered it an <i>embarras de richesse</i>, and told myself that both - belonged to me! Sentry presented the best mark, and as she turned and came - towards me I drew a bead on her breast and fired. She fell—plop! But - her companion simply took a sort of flying run, very quaint to watch, and - vanished in the instant on the horizon. This is, I know, a prodigious fuss - about shooting an ostrich; but I found them harder to come on and account - for than the king of beasts himself. Some of my ostrich found its way to - the stock-pot, and a portion was roasted. We were quite unable to get our - teeth through it. Cecily said I had undoubtedly shot the oldest - inhabitant. The stewed ostrich, after being done to rags, was eatable, but - no great treat. - </p> - <p> - The next day I was taking a breathing space in between moments of stalking - an aoul with peculiarly turned horns, a regular freak amongst aoul, when I - suddenly heard that weirdest of sounds, the hunting call of a hyæna when - the sun is high. I got up and gazed about, and at some distance there - flashed into my vision a disabled buck, I could not then tell of what - variety, haltingly cantering and lurching along. The hyæna was on his - track, running low, but covering the distance between them magically - quickly. In shorter time than I can write it the hyæna sprang on to the - haunches of the spent buck, and down, down it sank, with head thrown back, - into a pitiful heap, the fierce wolf-like creature worrying it at once. I - threw up my rifle, in the excitement I had been allowed to approach very - near, and the hyæna paid toll. He was a mangy brute of the spotted - variety, but the strength of his teeth was amazing. He hung on to a piece - of the aoul long after death. I kept his head, but the skin was useless. - The buck was an old aoul, evidently in shocking condition and run down - generally. He was dead, or I would have put him out of his misery. I took - the head for the sake of the horns. These measured on the curves seventeen - and a half inches. - </p> - <p> - Just here Clarence when out spooring, came on an ostrich nest just about - to hatch out, and nothing would do but we must go then and there to see - it. We penetrated some wait-a-bit and then came on the nest with seven - eggs therein. Next we hid ourselves, waited awhile, and had the pleasure - of seeing the father ostrich return to the domicile. I don’t know where - the mother could be. We never sighted her. Perhaps she was an ostrich - suffragette and had to attend a meeting. We did not want to go too near - the nest, or go too often, but we could not help being very much - interested. Our consideration was quite unnecessary. The eggs hatched out, - the broken eggs told the tale, but some prowling jackal or hungry hyæna - had called when the parents were away and annexed the entire seven. - Housekeeping in the jungle has its drawbacks. It must be really difficult - to raise a family. - </p> - <p> - It was quite strange that Clarence, who was a born shikari, versed in the - ways of the wild, and master of the jungle folk, was not at all what I - call a safe shot. I never felt that I could depend on his rifle if we got - into a tight hole. My uncle says times must have changed, for in their - days together Clarence was very reliable with a rifle. But I don’t see why - a man, so often out in the jungle, should go off as a shot—rather, - one would think, would he improve, like grouse, with keeping. - </p> - <p> - We did a most amusing stalk one day here. On a Sunday—I know it was - a Sunday, because ever since we lost the only almanac we had with us we - notched a stick, Crusoe fashion—Cecily and I decided to part company - and go our ways alone, and taking our ponies rode off in opposite - directions. After some time I tethered my steed and left him for the syce - to attend to, and then I mooned along slowly until I must have traversed a - mile or so. I lay down awhile, and then a bunch of aoul crossed my front, - a Speke’s Gazelle with them but not of them, for he held himself well - aloof, and seemed by his very bearing to say he was only with them by - accident. The aoul moved on, but the Speke began to feed, and I realised - then he carried a head worth having, and I must take it an’ I could. I was - out of range, and it meant a careful stalk. I hoped he would not notice me - if I wriggled to the next clump of wait-a-bit, which showed the crassness - of my ignorance! Of course, he knew something was afoot, and I had to lie - still for ages ere I deceived him into passivity again. The ground was - like a razor’s edge; small stones and sharp-edged flints cut into my poor - knees, but I crept nearer by twenty paces. The sunlight danced again on - his shining coat, and all his thoughts were hemmed in now by a little - patch of green grass he had come on. He consumed this while I squirmed - from point to point, and then with a whisk of his tail he was off again. A - brisk run brought him in view once more, and all this time my presence had - never really irked him. Aha! I pretty well had him. A few paces more when, - wonder of wonders, he saw some danger signal in quite another quarter and - dashed away, this time with no halting. He was gone for ever. I rose and - stretched myself, when a distant bush of wait-a-bit yielded up another - figure, doing the same thing. It was Cecily. And we had both been stalking - the self-same buck for hours—spoiling the other’s chances every - time. We laughed and laughed, for who could help it? - </p> - <p> - On our walk back to camp we found the vacated hole of a wart-hog. They dig - these entrenchments for themselves, and back into them so that they face - any danger that may come—a most wise and sound policy. The hole only - just admits piggy; there is not one inch to spare. Living as they do on - roots, it can well be understood that the flesh is really much more - appetising than that of the home-grown porker. Their only drawback as a - welcome addition to our larder was this refusal of the Somalis to have - anything to do with pig. I am quite sure they ran this phase of - Mahomedanism for all it was worth, thereby saving themselves labour, for I - never could see any very strong leanings towards any other teachings of - their religion. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IX—DEATH OF “THE BARON” - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - My very friend has got his mortal hurt - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - In my behalf, my reputation stain’d - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Romeo and Juliet - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - All in gore blood - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Romeo and Juliet - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">V</span>ery often we made - detours from the main caravan, rejoining it at a given spot, and this - spirit of “wanderlust” brought us into a nice quandary one fine day. Going - by the map and guided by the compass, Clarence was to arrive with the - whole outfit at a precise place by nightfall, and we two, tired of the - two-and-a-half miles an hour pace, did an excursion on sport intent, - taking our own way to meet the caravan. We, with three hunters on the - ever-willing ponies, left camp early, and going easily soon put a good - distance between ourselves and the slow-coach camels. Dik-dik popped up - everywhere, but ’twas no use disturbing the jungle for such small - game. Water-holes next loomed ahead, and into the mud the Somalis - precipitated themselves to drink and dabble. It was really not fit to - swallow, and sudden death would seem to be the probable result. Not at - all! It gave a sudden impetus to our men, who grew quite lively, game for - anything, as they chanted invitations to imaginary animals to come and be - shot. All the song was of the “Dilly, Dilly, come and get killed” pattern, - and was for the most part addressed to a rhinoceros who lived in fancy. - “Wiyil, Wiyil, Mem-sahib calls you,” was the bed-rock of the anthem, and - like our home-made variety one sentence had to go a long way. - </p> - <p> - We found a track made by tortoises innumerable who evidently marched in - solid phalanx to the water-holes. We followed the trail for a long way, - but it seemed to be taking us to a Never-never land, so we turned, giving - up the idea of discovering the source of the path. But in a tiny lake, as - big as a bath and as shallow, we came on three tortoises swimming. They - drew in their ugly snake-like heads with a sideway motion beneath their - armour-plate residence, and there was nothing left to see but a flat, - dirty, yellow carapace. They were quite small, and we pulled one out with - a deft noose thrown by the second hunter. Each man took off his turned-up - sandals and rested one bare foot at a time on the shelly back, “to make - strong the feet.” They did this very solemnly, and, of course, in turns, - mounting their ponies when the superstitious rite was well over. - </p> - <p> - We saw a very immature gerenük standing on his hind legs to feed on the - young tops of a thorn bush. It went off at a crouching trot, stopping - after a short run to turn and stare. It even returned a few paces, with - unparalleled impudence, to gaze. It was a youngster of last season. The - gerenük mother is not the highest type of jungle matron, frequently - abandoning a little one to fend for itself weeks before it has been taught - the ways of the jungle. And so it is that gerenük fawns are a great - mainstay in the lion dietary. - </p> - <p> - We let our youthful friend investigate us to his liking, after which he - trotted off. Gerenük seldom or never gallop, and get up nothing like the - speed of an oryx for instance. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0155.jpg" alt="0155 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0155.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - We paused for lunch, and some surprised Midgans were located beneath a - guda tree. Round about them were many fierce and vengeful-looking dogs. - They had a fire over which they were roasting bits of flesh. A few dogs - fought and wrangled over mangled remnants of bone, skin, and entrails. The - horns and shield of an oryx hung on a khansa bush. The horns were not - large, and were those of a cow oryx, killed to make a Midgan holiday, by - the aid of the trained dogs, and with a <i>coup-de-grâce</i> of arrows. I - have never seen the actual hunting, but I understand that these pariah - dogs are bred by the Midgans to hunt the oryx, and going out in a pack - make straight for the prey on being shown the antelope. - </p> - <p> - The music of the chase is noteless. The dogs hunt in silence, until they - bring the antelope to his last stand, when they give tongue, guiding the - tracking Midgans, who steal up, as concealed as may be, and let fly a - flight of arrows which either settles the oryx there and then, or paves - the way for an easy pull down later. Very often the antelope makes such a - glorious stand that a couple of dogs are left on the field of battle for - the hyænas. Though the dogs fasten on to their prey and are fierce beyond - relief an oryx at bay is something to be afraid of. His swift forward - rush, head down, with horns just fixed at the right angle for impaling an - enemy, and sideway strike render him a formidable foe at close quarters. - </p> - <p> - The Midgans were very friendly. They were very ragged, and the quivers - full of poisoned arrows hung on quite bare shoulders. They kindly showed - us a track to our betterment, for the going now was stony and difficult. - In and out among rocky nullahs were week-old pugs of lion, and farther, - where rain had fallen, well defined spoor of more lion, together with - massed tracks of oryx and aoul. The spoor of the former is broad in the - forefoot, somewhat resembling two pears set together, and the hind foot - makes a much longer, narrower impress. We followed the rough track for a - mile or more being led to an open “bun,” not extensive, where some few - bunches of aoul grazed and an odd bull oryx also. We got off our ponies, - and making the hunters into <i>syces pro tem.</i> did a stalk on all - fours. Cover there was not, and the centre of the “bun” was the centre of - attraction to all the buck, the best grass probably growing there. It was - completely out of reasonable range. A crackle, a rustle, or possibly a - vision gave the alarm, and away went the oryx, out of sight instantly. The - aoul fled affrightedly for a hundred yards or so, then brought up in a - thick bunch to stare. One, inquisitive beyond belief, trotted towards us, - advancing in short bounds in his anxiety to solve the mystery of these new - squirming creatures. Head on, the aoul presented the position for the most - reliable shot possible. A child would have brought it off. Cecily dropped - the inquirer dead in his tracks. - </p> - <p> - We were very glad of the meat, and the horns were not amiss. The men would - not be able to look forward to a resulting feast, as the “hallal” was left - out. However, they had any amount of sun-dried meat to go on with. One - pony had to carry the buck, which, after being cleaned, probably weighed - less than the Somali who had occupied the saddle previously. Then we made - tracks for the rendezvous. Looking behind us we saw a large jackal making - off with the left-behind bits of aoul. Another and another came up, and - then a set-to fight began as to who should eat the spoils. Whilst the - battle raged with fang and claw a tiny jackal stealing up made off at best - pace with most of the bone of contention. - </p> - <p> - At the arranged place of meeting we found no hospitably waiting tents, no - cook trying to cook, no camels, no anything, but an arid waste of sand, - sparsely dotted with adad bushes and a couple of very stunted guda trees. - From the adad comes the gum arabic of Somali trading, a useless commodity - to us. But we could see it for ourselves in amber lumps, in the crannies - of the thorn. - </p> - <p> - Half an hour passed. The ponies nibbled the occasional brown spears that - masqueraded as grass, and we sat down, and said things. One of the hunters - got up a guda tree to help investigations, and we played: “Sister Ann, - Sister Ann, do you see anybody coming?” until we were tired of it, and the - man not being particularly agile missed his footing and fell with a plop - to the ground. After he realised he still lived we had to listen to his - complaints, which embraced everything from petitions to Allah, allusions - to Kismet, to ordinary swear words consigning the tree and the bruises to - altogether impossible places. It grew bitterly cold. A breeze sprang up - and dashed the sand in little sprays about us. Then it got colder still, - and darker; presently night would fall and find us unprepared. We guarded - the ponies, and the men with nothing but a couple of shikar knives, cut - thorn hurriedly, and we could not cry, “Hold, enough!” until a goodly pile - had been collected. We started a fire then and sat about it holding the - ponies by us. A comical group. The fire warmed us in front, but oh, the - cold where the fire was not. I kept turning round and round like a - meat-jack. We sat on like this in great discomfort until twelve o’clock. - We had on drill jackets, so were very coldly clad. Then—a shot on - the silence, cracking suddenly like ice splitting on a frozen lake. Crack - again. We replied; and after a waste of cartridges on either side a dark - mass loomed on our limited horizon, and the camel-men called words of - endearment to the lost hunters. We were huffy enough to have dismissed the - whole caravan and left ourselves stranded, but feigned to be propitiated - by stories of how they lost their way and the compass, for a Somali will - lose, as he can break, anything. The sight of our tents being erected and - the prospect of bed and warmth mollified us as nothing else could have - done, and we turned in as soon as the cook produced some soup. The men had - to collect wood in the dark—a thing they hate. It was all a gross - piece of bad management on the part of Clarence. Even Homer nods. - </p> - <p> - As a result of the exposure Cecily contracted rheumatism of some - inflammatory description. We called it rheumatism for want of a better - name, but her illness most coincided with something discussed in our - medical work—our <i>vade mecum</i>—and most unfortunately the - page was lost and the name of the complaint, as luck would have it, was on - it. - </p> - <p> - We decided it must be rheumatism and treated it accordingly. The right arm - was rendered quite useless, and it was agony for the poor girl to do more - than crawl about. It was a most irritating affair for her and ever so - disappointing. The best sport of the trip was now at hand. We were in the - rhino country, and at breakfast next morning a Somali hunter rode in—it - is marvellous the way in which these people track caravans and then seem - to drop in from nowhere—and he brought news, great news for us. - Clarence introduced the man, a fine upstanding Berserk, who gazed in - bewilderment at the new type of sporting sahib. A rhinoceros was in the - vicinity, that much we elicited, that much, and enough too. A flowing tobe - was the reward for these tidings of great joy. - </p> - <p> - Leaving Clarence to glean all particulars, I rushed to Cecily’s tent to - see if she would require me to remain in camp with her. She said, nobly, - “Of course not.” Truth to tell, I don’t think I could have done it had she - asked me to. - </p> - <p> - I was so overjoyed and excited that I saw to the condition of my rifle ten - times over. - </p> - <p> - The only animal a Somali really fears is the rhinoceros. His charge, - though so blundering, is so terrific; and though he has not the cunning of - the elephant, in fact hardly any finesse at all, the native mind knows it - is safer to take no chances. I learnt by after experience that a - rhinoceros is, indeed, a very big thing to tackle; that his immense bulk - is no deterrent to nimbleness, that his lumbering, bull-like charge is not - the most he can do, for if needs be he can turn and double with agility. - </p> - <p> - As soon as possible after hearing the great news we prepared to try our - luck. The country here was of the densest description, and Clarence’s idea - was to make a detour south, by way of some water-holes, where we might - come on tracks of more rhino. He said the one we had heard of would - probably by now be far away, and, as we were right in the Ogaden, there - was every possibility of our picking up fresh rhino spoor for ourselves - almost immediately. We got ready quite a little expedition, and I detailed - a camel to carry my requirements in case we thought it better to stay out - all night, and with Clarence, the Baron, a syce, and two camel men my - retinue was sufficiently imposing. Danger from the Ogaden Somalis never - presented itself to me as a very real thing, in spite of certain lurid - tales we had heard and read. Although we penetrated the country from end - to end, the few tribes we met gave us no anxiety save that of the - off-chance that we might catch some disease from them. They are very prone - to small-pox, and go on walking about with it, giving it to all and - sundry, when most people would be isolated. - </p> - <p> - But to return to that joint of mutton we sat down to. I took a whole - armoury along with me, but had quite selected my 12-bore as the rifle for - the job. I said good-bye to poor disappointed Cecily, thinking how lucky I - was to be well and able to set off on this the greatest adventure of all - my life. I little thought I was nearing one of its tragedies. As I rode - along I felt light-hearted enough to sing. Even the woeful going and the - consequent delays did not seriously vex me. The sandy plateaus presently - changed to the most impossible thorn, and it became apparent we could get - the encumbered camel no farther. The creature could not struggle on - through such dense jungle, neither could the ponies. I would hear of no - going back, and there was no going round, so I instructed the small - caravan to await my reappearance under pain of all sorts of penalties - whilst “the Baron,” myself, and Clarence pushed and crawled our way in a - direction where we confidently hoped to come on rhino. - </p> - <p> - I simply held my breath, took a header into the sea of bush before us, and - with the ubiquitous Clarence ever and anon carving out a rough path for me - with his hunting knife, held on the way. - </p> - <p> - The heat was appalling. I can truthfully say I never was so hot in all my - life. After about an hour of this, we all suddenly came upon a distinct - passage through the jungle, running at right angles, a passage that could - hardly be called one, still the way was easier, and it was apparent that, - though the brushwood had closed together again more or less, some mighty - creatures had passed along. But which way? Spooring was impossible, the - broken thorns could not solve the puzzle. We must chance it. Clarence was - for the left. I advocated the right. Something made me choose so; but oh, - how devoutly afterwards I wished I had taken the man’s way and not mine - own. It was not easy going now, but child’s play to what we endured at - first. On and on, very, very slowly; and at last the heavy country broke - up somewhat and we could see the sandy ground in patches once more. A - space and then—rhino spoor! New, never-to-be-forgotten, I stooped - down and examined it carefully. It was very distinct considering the dry - nature of the ground. I ascribed this to his immense weight. I measured - the imprint, and found it came out at nine and three-quarters long by - eight and three-quarter inches broad. A rhino causes no havoc to the thorn - bushes as he travels bar the injury of his passage. Unlike the elephant, - he does not stop and eat all along the way. He waits until settled in some - cherished feeding ground. - </p> - <p> - By the time we had done another hour, the spoor still holding on, the - country was comparatively clear. I was so fatigued and winded I lay down - and hardly knew what to do with myself. I sent Clarence and the Baron on a - bit to prospect, and had really nearly forgotten their existence in - exhausted sleep when they appeared again all tingling with excitement and - eagerness, and with many signs and mysterious facial contortions explained - the rhino was not far off. A wave of the hand to a far away fastness of - thicket showed me its lair, and as we crept closer a pensive munching - sound betrayed the occupation of our prey. - </p> - <p> - Aching all over, I silently crept on. In the stillness I could more - plainly hear the crunching of the thorns as they made a meal for the great - pachyderm. But I <i>saw</i> nothing, and how I was to penetrate the - wait-a-bit with any degree of safety I could not see. Few people would - care to meet a rhinoceros at such disadvantage, and I had to add to other - drawbacks the fact that I had for safety’s sake to let the hammers of my - rifle down ere negotiating such dense undergrowth. It would be highly - dangerous to proceed with the rifle cocked, but I wanted it very much - cocked indeed on my first introduction to so vast and important an animal. - The thing was to circumvent the wood—if I may call the place by so - home-like a word—and on reaching one spot where the thorn grew - sparser, I decided to penetrate here. I could not bear to leave it longer, - and could not wait all day; besides, I prefer to meet a rhino in some - place where there is a pretence at cover anyway to trying conclusions with - him in a patch of conspicuously open ground. - </p> - <p> - My men showed no sign of fear, and following me came on as carefully and - steadily as ever. Both were armed, inadequately it is to be feared, but - the onus of the business was to fall, presumably, on me. At last! In one - dazzling minute of surprise I saw the huge lumbering bulk we know as the - rhinoceros. I have a bowing acquaintance with his relatives in many zoos, - yet he seemed to me a stranger. Surely they never were so colossal, so - mighty, so altogether awe-inspiring. - </p> - <p> - My hands trembled violently. I was for the moment unsteady. It all seemed - so impossible I could kill the wondrous brute. - </p> - <p> - The cocking of the hammers seemed to echo through the jungle. To let him - hear us now would present difficulties unthinkable. Beads of perspiration - rolled down my forehead, and my heart beat so loudly that I wondered if - Clarence heard it. This would never do, so rating myself to myself—a - method that never fails to pull me together—I took long, steady, and - careful aim at the pachyderm’s shoulder. The frontal shot is never of the - slightest use, and I could not get in a heart one. I know now I had no - business to fire at all, but my keenness was great, my ignorance greater, - and Clarence had not protested once. - </p> - <p> - I fired! Instantly a noise like the letting off steam of a C.P.R. engine, - twice as noisy as any other. The rhino sniffed the air with his huge - muzzle, and I could clearly see his prehensile upper lip. In a moment he - seemed on us—through us; we scattered as he came. Then I saw what a - truly awful business we were in for, and, recognising there must be no - delay in getting the sights on him again, I dashed after the animal, who - was now about to double on his tracks, and I crawled into the - insignificant shelter of a thorn bush to await developments. - </p> - <p> - The rhino had not as yet realised what was the matter, or quite gathered - who his foes were. I fired again, another shoulder shot. This bullet - “told” heavily, and the maddened creature, smarting and furious, passed me - like the wind and charged like a Juggernaut right over the Baron, who, in - meaning to evade the rush, fell into it through the unexpected agility of - the brute. A most awful stifled shriek arose as my poor fellow went down. - Frightened as I was, I felt I should be everlastingly branded to myself as - a coward if I made no attempt to save the man, although I understood how - altogether impossible salvation was just then. The pachyderm was giving - the prostrate body a number of vicious rams with his horn. I advanced - quite close, and the rhino, seeing me, blunderingly charged, passing so - near I got the very breath from his nostrils. I luckily managed to get in - a heart shot, and yet another. The animal lurched on, and then fell, as a - loaded furniture van might, with a terrific crash. But it was not entirely - accounted for even yet, and continued to emit little squeals and plough - the ground up all about it. Still, I knew it would rise no more, and I - gave my rifle to Clarence with a sign to him to do the happy despatch. I - went to the fallen Baron, and even now cannot write of the dreadful nature - of his wounds without a shudder at the manner of so hideous a death. I was - overwhelmed, but Clarence was still imperturbable as he looked back from - the great mass that now lay as inert as my poor follower. - </p> - <p> - There was no use trying anything; the Baron was dead. I did my best to - hide my stress of mind from the calm shikari, and endeavoured to think - what it was best to do. I wanted to have the body taken back to camp and - bury it decently, but, after all, it was a silly idea enough, and a mere - relic of home associations. The man had to <i>be</i> buried, so why not do - it where he fell? Then the rhinoceros, with all its value in hide and - horn, lay there to be dealt with. The only way seemed to be to return to - the spot where we left the camel, let Clarence lead two men to the scene - of the <i>débâcle</i>, and then I would proceed to camp and order out - further assistance. - </p> - <p> - We covered the poor Baron with cut thorns, which seemed a slight barrier - of protection for his body; and the thought of the inroads of some beasts - of prey made me hurry and almost run back through the awful way we had - come so short a time ago. Our passage had cleared it a very little, and my - mind was so much occupied with the catastrophe that it did not seem very - long before we reached the philosophic camel and the help of which we - stood in need. - </p> - <p> - One camel-man I instructed to return to camp with his charge; the other - and my syce I detailed to go back with Clarence to attend to the Baron and - the rhino. I got on my own pony, leading the others, and going as hard as - I could under such harassing conditions, I returned an hour or so after - with a few men, whom I led to the edge of the thick jungle into which I - heartily wished I had never penetrated, and explained to the leader the - exact location of the scene of the disaster. I arranged that a rifle - should be fired three times to acquaint me of his meeting with Clarence at - the awful spot. For myself, I was too utterly done to take on the journey - down that path again. I sat and waited for the signal, and felt a little - easier in my mind as I heard the welcome one, two, three. - </p> - <p> - I wearily returned to camp, and having fully explained to Cecily the - extent of the disaster, lay on my bed, face down, for ages. The death of - the poor hunter could not, strictly speaking, be ascribed to me. I might - so easily have been the victim myself, but the horror of it all and the - pity of it bothered me as I suppose it would not have done a real - sportsman. For, in retailing it now to my uncle, he pooh-poohs my trouble - and says it is the fortune of big game hunting. “You hunt big game, big - game hunt you,” as the case may be. - </p> - <p> - Cecily tried in her loving way to comfort me, and the cook made me a - soporific in the shape of tea, and the kettle had really boiled. I was - very glad to see Clarence back before the light gave out, and hear that - the Baron had been buried deeply and far out of the reach of hungry - jackals and hyænas. - </p> - <p> - I spent a fearful night of regrets and recriminations. When pain is acute - it is as well to let it bite deep, because the reaction is greater in - proportion to the pain. I’m not sure that the old adage about crying over - spilt milk isn’t a fraud. It does a woman good to cry, so I wept and wept. - </p> - <p> - Next morning I thoroughly overhauled my prize so dearly bought. The spoil - must have taken some carrying. The head, which I kept entire—I mean - without despoiling it of horns—was not so large as I somehow - expected from an animal of his bulk. Still, it was big enough in all - conscience. The skin appeared like some freshly-peeled fruit, and was of - great thickness, though it afterwards shrank in the drying a little. - </p> - <p> - After the epidermis is removed, the hide, when polished, comes up like - clouded amber, and makes the most exquisite top for a table, of which the - four feet form the base. In my worry at the time I neglected to measure - the rhinoceros as he lay, but in any case we were quite unable to move - him. I afterwards took the dimensions of the horns, and the length of the - anterior was sixteen inches, the posterior being at seven. I could not - settle in that camp again, nor hunt with any happiness. As soon as Cecily - was well enough to trek we struck camp, and held on in the direction of - Galadi, wherever that might be. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER X—WE MEET “THE OPPOSITION” - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden sorrow - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Serves to say thus—some good thing comes to-morrow - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - King Henry VI - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>t was impossible - to feel down-hearted for long, and my spirits began to rise again. Even - the heat did not affect us as much as one might have thought. Of course we - were burnt as mahogany brown as it is possible for a white woman to be, - and I think very little marked us out from our Somalis in point of colour. - Our very fair hair looked quite odd in contrast. - </p> - <p> - Our hunters reported one morning that in spooring for leopard they had - come on the tracks of a large caravan, and overtaking some part of it - gathered that the outfit belonged to some English officer on sport bent. - Every Englishman is an officer to the Somalis. It is really rather funny. - It is quite like the way every American is—to the Englishman—a - martial colonel. I was intensely sorry to know we were so near to other - hunters. It was very selfish too, for the country was big enough, in all - conscience, to hold us all. But I <i>was</i> sorry, and there’s an end of - it. Cecily said perhaps it was all a mistake, because how could anyone be - hunting in the forbidden ground of the Ogaden unless they were as signally - favoured as ourselves? I suggested that they might be, because we did not - surely suppose we were the only people with relatives able to pull the - strings. We were both a bit “shirty” because we were vexed to know we had - not got the Ogaden to ourselves. A nice sporting spirit, wasn’t it? - </p> - <p> - We were at lunch, battling with an altogether impossible curry Cecily had - perpetrated, for she always said you can curry anything, even old boots, - at a push, and they would be rendered appetising. Oryx beat her efforts - culinary, and she had to admit at last that curry powder and oryx meat - should be strangers. - </p> - <p> - As she had had all the trouble of stirring the concoction over a grilling - fire on a grilling day I struggled on as long as I possibly could in order - that the amateur chefs feelings should not be hurt, but confessed myself - beaten in the end and very hungry, so we fell to opening a tin of meat. - </p> - <p> - “I fear no beef that’s canned by Armour,” sang Cecily, coming events not - having cast any shadows before. - </p> - <p> - “Salaam, ladies!” said an English voice close at hand. - </p> - <p> - It was the leader of the opposition shoot. The younger, my kinsman, was - quarrelling with a syce about the proper way to hold a pony. I don’t know - if we were glad to see them or not. Anyway we had to pretend to be, - besides making the usual ridiculous remarks about the smallness of the - world, and how odd it was we should have come across each other again. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0173.jpg" alt="0173 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0173.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - It would have been inhospitable to offer any of the curry, so we begged - them to sample the tinned beef. Our butler waited on us, and drenched the - four of us in a successful attempt to open a champagne bottle. Oh yes, we - gave them champagne, to make up for other deficiencies. I told them if - they would wait for dinner they should have a Carlton-like meal. After - lunch they would see our skins and heads, so we excavated the skulls, and - displayed all we had for admiration. We tried not to feel superior, but it - was rather difficult when we heard they had not as yet got a shot even at - a rhino. I lay low about the price we paid for ours! We evidently went up - a little in their estimation, because they invited us to take part in a - big shoot next day, and seemed really anxious we should accept. We said we - were about to trek in an opposite direction, but I was rather taken aback - when the elder warrior asked me how I knew which direction the proposed - shoot was to take? They invited us to go over and see their trophies, but - we did not mean to give them one single chance to crow, and instantly on - their departure struck camp and moved on towards a large Somali encampment - which had recently suffered many grievous losses from the depredations of - leopards. - </p> - <p> - We were anxious to see the spoor for ourselves. A great many of the - leopards reported are nothing in the wide world but hyæna in spite of the - fact that the leopard, being a cat, does not, in quiescence, show his - claws in the pug marks, and the hyæna, being a dog, does; besides, the <i>shape</i> - of the pad is entirely different. The hyaena has a triangle-shaped back - pad, with two large side toes and two smaller centre ones, whilst the pug - of the leopard is similar to that of lion but proportionately smaller. In - spite of these mistakes on the part of some unlettered Somali, almost - every black man spoors in a way no white man ever can hope to do. The - former can follow tracks of game over ground that tells us nothing. Stony - ground, wet ground, loose ground, dry ground, all alike give up secrets to - him whereof we cannot hear the faintest whispers. The whole jungle is an - open book to the black shikari, and compared to him the cleverest chiel - among us is but a tyro. - </p> - <p> - We camped some two miles from the <i>karia</i>, and barely arrived when - the head-man arrived to say “Salaam,” He brought with him all his sisters - and his cousins and his aunts. A very plain lot they looked too, although - Clarence whispered to me that in Somaliland one of the women was rated as - a great beauty. I don’t know how he knew, unless the local M. A. P. said - so. After a closer inspection of the lady I came to the conclusion that, - for a beauty, she really was not bad looking. - </p> - <p> - They were very prying though, and really dangerous to have round, as one - could not be everywhere at once. They all had advanced kleptomania. My - tent was overflowing with them, though I had given orders to keep the - place clear, and somebody annexed my sponge, hair-brush, and even a - tooth-brush vanished from Cecily’s tent, though we never saw any one - penetrate it. I don’t know what use the tooth-brush would be. The Somalis - do not neglect their teeth, far from it, but they use for cleaning - purposes a soft stick, rubbing and polishing away at all sorts of odd - moments. The result is of dazzling whiteness. - </p> - <p> - It was unnecessary also for them to help themselves as we were more than - generous, and in response to their unblushing demands for presents we gave - them at least four tobes, a turban or two, and an umbrella without a - handle, which the proud proprietor unfurled and at once subsided beneath. - </p> - <p> - When Cecily in the warmth of her heart began to bestow things we really - had need of ourselves I begged her to curb her Santa Claus-like ideas, and - let us try and get to the leopard subject. But they were not to be - switched off so easily. The head-man yearned for a rifle, and seemed to - think we were the very people to satisfy him, and I don’t wonder, when we - had been playing universal provider to them for half an hour. There is - nothing on earth a black man longs for so earnestly as a rifle of his own. - It does not matter if it is a mere piece of gas piping with sights set on - it, so that he may call it rifle. A vast amount of rubbish is palmed off - by rascally traders, who get the arms through in spite of regulations and - precautions. The maker is nothing, the skill of the user nothing, the mere - name rifle is everything; and the fact that a native was not—it may - still be so, I don’t know—allowed to own such a treasure made the - prospect more enchanting than ever. I refused the head-man’s request, so - trifling as it was too, as firmly and politely as possible, and offered - him a pen-knife instead. He took one somewhat superciliously, and went off - with it with both blades open. We had not once got to the main point, the - leopard, whose existence was supposed to be a daily menace to their <i>karia</i>. - I bade Clarence go after our guest, and extract particulars. - </p> - <p> - After a little time a convoy appeared with return gifts, a couple of - goats, and dirty <i>harns</i> without number full of camels’ milk. I - thought at one time the extreme uncleanliness of the <i>harns</i> - accounted for the unpleasant taste of the milk, but I liked it no better - when I sampled it from a can of my own providing. - </p> - <p> - The leopard, for this time rumour had not lied, had made serious - depredations, and carried off nightly goats, sheep, and even a baby camel. - It jumped the zareba wall with ease apparently. We decided to have - “machan,” or rather a small enclosure, built, and sit up for the thief. I - never see much fun in this sitting up business. It is so often all waiting - and no coming. We set some of the men to construct the shelters, and - arranged them some six hundred yards away from the Somali encampment on - the side where the leopard had most often made an entry. We decided to - have a small zareba each, two hundred yards apart, and took up our - residence for the night about 6 p.m. Cecily had Clarence with her; I had - mine to myself. I was most uncomfortably crowded as it was, but Cecily had - a little more space in her prison. - </p> - <p> - We tied up a goat between us, and settled down to dreary hours of silent - watching. Though we kept quiet, the Somalis never gave over singing and - shouting for a moment. I wondered at a leopard going near the place at - all. But it may have used the din to its own advantage. - </p> - <p> - The night grew very dark, and for a wonder, as the midnight hours drew - near, it got intensely cold. The mosquitoes did not bother me in the - least, though they were present in hundreds. I was completely fastened in, - and only had a peep hole for my rifle which covered the goat. - </p> - <p> - I heard a lion roar once, and after a little came a strange lowing sound, - most weird and eldritch. I had never known it before, but I judged a - leopard was hunting. My senses being completely awake, I peered through - the darkness at the goat. It was most ridiculous. It was impossible even - to see it. The whole place was in inky darkness. I waited, shivering, and - next moment I distinctly heard the crunching of bones and the tearing of - flesh. The leopard, or hyæna, had come without a sound. I could not fire - when I could see absolutely nothing to fire at. Bang! came from Cecily’s - zareba, and was followed by a choking gurgle. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve got him, don’t you think?” called out Cicely from her enclosure. - </p> - <p> - We dared not venture out, and remained there until in the early hours some - of our men arrived to let us free. But as it grew light I could see the - shadowy form of a great leopard lying prone on his victim. We investigated - as soon as possible, and found that Cecily had got him through the head. - This was, of course, a mere fluke, for she says she only fired after she - and Clarence had sighted and just as the darkness seemed to lift in the - very slightest. She did not see the arrival of the beast either, though - she says from her zareba his form was at times dimly apparent. For myself, - I never saw our prize in life at all. - </p> - <p> - He was a glorious trophy, and with perfectly undamaged skin measured, - before skinning, seven feet, and after, seven feet six inches. Then from - out of the Somali <i>karia</i> strolled the head-man, not obliged at all, - still clamouring for some further souvenir! I bade Clarence endeavour to - explain that the boot was on the other leg now, which the shikari - literally and faithfully did, as I heard boots and legs, inextricably - muddled with Somali cuss words, being heatedly discussed. Then back to - camp and breakfast. - </p> - <p> - Sometimes at night, before turning in we would go and sit around the - blazing fires and try to talk to the men. We really wanted to find out - more about them, where they came from, what they had done, and what they - would like to do, but on our approach the chanting and the chatter ceased - almost invariably and all the naturalness would vanish. I do not think - they had any sense of humour. They laughed and were happy enough, but - situations that would have taxed the risible faculties of a white man left - them solemn and unmoved. - </p> - <p> - Almost every one of our men, if you could extract his real name instead of - his nick-name, had been christened Mahomed. What a lot of Mahomeds there - must be! I suppose it is like the glut of Jameses and Johns with us. They - are tremendous aristocrats, these Somalis; immensely proud of their - descent and origin, and even the most unlettered, though he cannot read or - write, can give you the names of his grandfathers, great-grandfathers, and - all the other greats, until you know you must be going back to grope in - the mists of centuries. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0181.jpg" alt="0181 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0181.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - When we were tracking one morning about this time, on the spoor of a very - small-footed lion, we came on a bit of ridge country, and for some hundred - yards or so a small thorn fence had been erected, <i>chevaux-de-frise</i> - like, the thorn having been cut and brought there. At intervals tiny gaps - were left, and inset, right on the sand of the ridge, stood the most - primitive gins to catch—Clarence said—dik-dik. The Midgans set - them. It would need to be a very unsophisticated little antelope indeed to - run its head into so palpable a noose. They were like the ones you set at - home for rabbits, but made of string instead of wire held up in an apology - for a circle by plainly-to-be-seen props of thorn twigs. On the sides of - the thorn walls forming the passages, bits of uninviting scraps of dik-dik - heads and tails were impaled—to attract and allure their kind our - shikari said. I should have thought the evidence of what awaited them - would have had a deterring effect on any roaming dik-dik, and serve merely - to attract jackals and foxes. But Clarence said the small antelope are - often caught in this way for the pot. - </p> - <p> - That night a vast bat visited our tent, flying round the candle lamp and - dashing himself against it. We called to Clarence to come and evict it, - not meaning him to kill it, but he flew at the creature forthwith, a <i>hangol</i> - in his hand, smashing the winged thing in a heap to the ground. The wings - hung limply around the mouse body, and myriads of fleas scattered from it. - It was larger than our English bats, and the top of the head was raised in - a sort of crown-like lump. - </p> - <p> - As we sat breakfasting, the camel-man in charge of the grazing camels ran - into the zareba and did a lot of excited jabbering. Then most of the men - made off outside. I called to know what was the matter, and the butler - said one of the camels had fallen into a pit and could not get out. - Presently we went off to see how affairs stood, and were exceedingly put - about to find Zeila, our big brown camel, had somehow or other fallen into - a long disused elephant trap which are still to be found in parts of the - Ogaden. They were quite deep, and the intention was that an elephant would - tumble in at night and find itself unable to get out like our Zeila, whose - hump was about level with the top of the hole. - </p> - <p> - Every order the camel-man gave he countermanded as soon as it was about to - be put into execution, and all they had as a means of retrieving our camel - was one leather lading rope. We sent back to camp for more, and sat on the - edge of the trap and waited. The other camels grazed about us, and Zeila - was very quiet indeed, only occasionally breaking into groans. The poor - beast was ominously down in the forequarters, and we thought must be - kneeling. When the ropes arrived the difficulty was how to pass them - around the camel, and if we did get them round how to prevent the leather - thongs from cutting into the flesh. A rather sporting hunter volunteered - to join Zeila in the trap, a tight fit already, and endeavour to place the - ropes. First we wound grass around the rope up to a certain distance - making a pad, and then the hunter climbed down. Had the camel done any - lashing about or moving the man would have been awkwardly placed. The - ropes were successfully passed around the body, made into nooses, the - intrepid hunter, wreathed in smiles at our congratulations, emerged sandy - but successful, and we all did a tug of war, heaving poor Zeila to the - surface, a struggling mass. Once on <i>terra firma</i> at the top it sank - groaning pitifully. The camel man examined it, “Bruk I bruk!” he said, - ruefully regarding the right fore-leg. - </p> - <p> - He evidently was right. The poor creature had broken the leg in the fall. - Here was a calamity! The head camel man said it could not be mended, and - Zeila was no more use to us. I asked Clarence if he thought so fine a - camel would be given a home at the <i>karia</i> of the leopard adventure - if I offered to hand it over. He laughed and said a broken-legged camel is - no use anywhere, and if I offered the animal the Somalis would accept it - gladly and then eat it, and didn’t I think it better our own men should - get the benefit of the meat? I had never thought of our turning cannibal - and eating each other this wise, but I believe all the men were looking - forward to a Zeila chop. With great reluctance I said I supposed the poor - camel must be killed, that it must be shot first through the head, and - then that “hallal” business could follow immediately. Clarence swore by - Allah he would do the killing humanely, a word the Somali does not - understand at all. The rest of the day the men spent in gorging. - </p> - <p> - When we went out late in the afternoon by the place of the catastrophe, - where the vultures were feasting on dragged-away bits of camel bones, we - caught some exquisite butterflies who sat on the now putrid carcase, - gorged into quiescence. It seems an odd juxtaposition, butterflies and bad - flesh, but there they were in unison. Cecily is an ardent entomologist, - and collected. I let her do the securing the specimens because she - understands how to kill them neatly, pressing the thorax without damaging - the glory of the wings. I never could gain the knowledge. My fingers - seemed all thumbs at it. - </p> - <p> - We purchased two new camels from the neighbouring <i>karia</i>, needing a - full complement on account of the water-carrying nuisance. I gave the - head-man an order on our banker at Berbera with which he was as pleased as - though it were cash, but the next trading trip would take him to the - coast-town. These jungle Somalis have some delightfully pre-historic - traits. Belief is one of them. An Englishman’s bond is as good as his - word, and that is something; it isn’t always in civilisation. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XI—AN OASIS IN THE DESERT - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Comedy of Errors - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Things without all remedy - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Should be without regard, what’s done is done - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Macbeth - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - What’s gone and what’s past help - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Should be past grief. - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Winter’s Tale - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>e were now having - a great time trying to cure the skin of the rhino. I was so afraid - something would go wrong with it that I was for ever messing away. - Clarence would have it that the wrong thing had been done from the first. - He was rather pessimistic these days, mainly, I think, because he had a - gathered hand and it pained very considerably. - </p> - <p> - The skins generally were menaced by the deadly beetle grub, and we had to - resort to all sorts of drastic measures. Saltpetre I found of great use - here, and we used it freely. The heads of rhino are very difficult to dry, - as can well be imagined, and our trophy looked a hopeless mess. It was - difficult to believe it would ever rise in glory, Phoenix-like, from the - ashes, to be a thing of joy to anyone. Such great heads swarm with maggots - in no time unless carefully watched. The monster we were tackling was no - exception to the rule, and manufactured the enemy on the “whilst you wait” - principle. - </p> - <p> - It now became a matter for our deep consideration as to how far our trip - should extend. - </p> - <p> - We had known before we started that Somaliland is no longer the old time - sportsman’s paradise. The shikar obtainable is not what it was, and every - year lessens the chances. The truth is the country is fairly shot out. - </p> - <p> - Fifteen years ago the most excellent shooting was to be had all over; now, - unless one penetrates right into the interior where a certain amount of - danger from warlike tribes must be looked for, there is not much hope of a - truly great and representative bag. The reserving of the Hargeisa and - Mirso as entirely protected regions has also necessarily restricted the - game area. The day of the sportsman in all Africa was in that Golden Age - when he, all untrammelled, might stalk the more important fauna, to say - nothing of the lesser, as he listed. Now he pays heavy toll, varying with - the scarcity of the quarry, and the licences are not the least part of the - expenses. Of course the needful preservation of big game should, and - inevitably must, lead to good results, since to husband the resources of - anything is to accumulate in the long run. But the idea of artificial - preservation and legislation seems to knock some of the elemental romance - out of hunting. Anything cut and dried seems out of place in sport of big - game variety, and brings it down to the nearer level of shooting pheasants - that know you by sight, and which have been on terms of friendship with - their slaughterers. The Ogaden country, in parts, like the curate’s egg, - still possesses potentialities not to be sneered at, and if one is willing - to penetrate the interior, getting clear away from the beaten track, the - possibilities become certainties. - </p> - <p> - To go onwards through the Mijertain meant striking into, or crossing the - “Mary Ann Desert,” as Cecily persisted in styling the Marehan. This was a - somewhat daunting enterprise, but to put against any drawbacks there was - the attraction and magnet of unlimited sport at the other side. We - consulted our maps, and understood them sufficiently to plan a route and - leave the rest to Providence, which useful commodity or personage we - confidently hoped would be good enough to see us through. - </p> - <p> - We told Clarence and the caravan generally in an off-hand manner, very - confidently, that we proposed trekking eventually to Joh in the Haweea - country, but I cannot say they received the news in the same spirit of - easy confidence. Clarence was and looked taken aback. He murmured - something about its being a great journey, days and days, that he had - never penetrated so far before. Even our shikari uncle had stopped at the - Bun Arnwein. This rather settled the matter. Oh, to go one better than our - relative! - </p> - <p> - We mapped our homeward route so that it permitted of a day or more on the - Bun Toyo with the new grass all a-blowing and a-growing to tempt out buck - in dozens, even though it all meant going over much of our old shooting - ground. We had not yet got a “sig,” Swayne’s hartebeest, among our - trophies. We also intended to pass through a new—to us—part of - the Golis, and try our luck there. - </p> - <p> - This Ogaden country is a God-forsaken spot, and the eye aches at last with - the dull brown of everything. Even the haze of the early morning is - khaki-tinted. As for ourselves, we matched the landscape. Our hands were - sienna-coloured, and our complexions———, but maybe the - very word is out of place in connection with our sun-dried faces. - </p> - <p> - Cecily was very bent on shooting a rhino on her own,’ saying she would not - count the one that fell to my rifle as anything to do with her. I offered - half share in it enthusiastically, for I had no desire to meet another. - </p> - <p> - I had killed one, to say nothing of the Baron, and was more than sated. - Cecily, however, would not be put off with any sophistry on my part, so we - had the order on hand. - </p> - <p> - At last we came on the oasis called Galadi, a very remarkable place, set - like a jewel in a rim of iron. We could hardly believe our eyes. It was - such a faceted gem. No more dingy brown landscape, but a peaceful sylvan - scene of great trees, real turf, and a wealth of green vegetation. This - patch of emerald extended for a mile or more and seemed like a little - Heaven. I was very interested in the wells we came on here and there. They - were of immense antiquity, very deep, cut in the solid rock. We could not - but be impressed with the industry of the long dead hewers. Naturally in - some places, though the wells are deep, the work of excavation is rendered - less difficult by the nature of the ground cut through, which is in most - parts of red earth. There are always steps cut all the way down, on which - the Somalis balance themselves with the greatest <i>sang-froid</i>, doing - the necessary conjuring trick with-the buckets from hand to hand the - while. They are made from the ubiquitous leather—in no country, I - imagine, can leather be more pressed into service—and a number of - Somalis often descend a deep well at one time, passing up the full buckets - in continuous chain, receiving back the returning empty ones as the other - leaves the hand. All the time the ever helpful songs are sung. - </p> - <p> - When a large number of camels have to be watered it means spending the - best part of a day down the wells, which are often very foul, and full of - noxious gases. Troughs for the cattle are made by the wells as a rule, - again of the ever helpful leather, or hollowed by hand, and lined with - some sort of clay. We used the ordinary English method, much simpler, of - procuring water, and a bucket and rope seemed to be as effectual and as - expeditious, with certainly less waste than the Somali system. - </p> - <p> - We had hoped to have a splendid bath at Galadi, and a real good drink, but - on trying well after well we found the water absolutely poisonous, and - highly dangerous. The liquid was putrid. The birds of the air in their - thousands made the place their own, and the smell when we disturbed the - surface of the wells was simply abominable. Our men drank freely, but - Cecily and I worried along on the short commons of our last water barrel. - All the animals were watered, and it did not surprise me in the least when - one of the camels shortly afterwards without a word of warning, sat down, - and promptly died. Clarence said it died because its time to die had come, - but I averred, and held to it, that even a camel cannot always swallow - drainage with impunity, even if it can philosophically. Such big words - baffled the shikari, and I left him pondering. - </p> - <p> - We were camped in a beautiful glade, the armo creeper, bright green, with - large leaves, grew festooned on lofty guda trees, and the fairy web of the - Hangeyu spider hung in golden threads from leaf to leaf. The camels were - rejoicing in splendid grazing, and would be all the better for the change. - It is always very rough on camels, I think, having to provide for - themselves, after bringing them in so late at night, after a march, as one - is so often compelled to do. If reasonable care is not taken of them they - will cave in, and there’s the end. Grazing through the hot hours, as is - the inevitable custom, does not permit of enough food being taken in, - especially when the grass is more often than not conspicuous merely by its - absence. They fed now in charge of the camel-men, wandering whithersoever, - in reason, they listed. On trek camels are tied together in good going. In - bad I always ordered them to go separately, because I observed how cruelly - jerked the tail often was. - </p> - <p> - Here we had an apiary of wild bees. They are expected to live on flowers - in Somaliland as elsewhere, I presume, but the flowers were not. And the - insects, naturally, were a bit peckish and invaded my tent after a pot of - marmalade. They ate away to their hearts content, for no human being - thought of going in and interfering; but the brainy Clarence put some - sugar in their official residence and the counter attraction caused them - to return. - </p> - <p> - There was a strong moon now, so magical that it set all the jackals for - miles around a-baying and a-barking, and nearly distracted us whose vocal - chords were not so susceptible. What this mysterious influence on the - canine genus is no man can tell, but it had the effect of making me rouse - some of the men to eject rocks at the offenders. The worship of Astarte - was all very well in olden days, but the manner of it in Somaliland was - intolerable. - </p> - <p> - A quaint insect made a loud tapping noise in the roof of my tent—probably - his love signal. I tried to see him, but he hid from the light. Altogether - I had a wakeful time. - </p> - <p> - I watched some weavers building next morning as I strolled about, the - while the parody of a cook struggled with the kettle which seemed unable - to boil. It really was very wonderful and astonishing. They snip off the - threads of grass with their beaks, and actually tie knots, half-hitches. - It was rather late for building, but the cock birds of this species, - sensible little things, sometimes make nests for roosting purposes. - </p> - <p> - Whydah birds were flying about in large numbers. They have crimson bodies, - black wings and tails about two feet long, which hamper them so in flight - they can only lollop along. I pursued one, and could have caught it had I - wished. They are finches, and so always to be found in damp green places. - I saw a merry little sand-piper in grey, with no tail at all, but wagging - as though he had one. He had rather a long beak and was very tame, eating - the crumbs I threw him within a yard of my feet. Two birds that looked - like sand-grouse crossed to the wells. The whole oasis was a paradise for - birds. - </p> - <p> - Dik-dik was now our staple food, and very palatable we found it. We had it - cooked up every imaginable way. The cook was a sombre individual, but in - moments of roasting he could joke with ease. We had but little fat to cook - with, as antelope have none on them to speak of. We put our meat on stones - in the pot with a little water, and we grilled on a gridiron, or we boiled - it. We made bread easily, but as a long course of baking powder is bad for - one we made our yeast from hops, of which we had some packets with us. It - was much nicer than dough bread, all sour. - </p> - <p> - The butler who had lived with the English family had an insinuating smile, - and a vocabulary of English words, a moiety of which he had grasped the - meaning of. He had no fairy footsteps nor airy nothingness, so valued in - an attendant of his variety at home. On the contrary, he hit the ground - with heavy beats in plantigrade fashion. - </p> - <p> - We felt quite regretful to leave this fairy place and turn back to the - blistering hot red sand. But time was flying, and we were rather out of - the way of big game here. - </p> - <p> - We struck camp and marched, seeing dibitag and oryx, which we vainly - stalked, and as we progressed we passed through extraordinary changes. - Every two or three miles or so we came on similar oases to Galadi and - then, in between, burnt up patches of familiar country. In one of these - green gardens Cecily bagged a lesser koodoo, somewhat rare in these parts, - and an exceedingly beautiful trophy. - </p> - <p> - Nearing another oasis, some two miles in extent, Clarence manifested the - greatest desire for me to penetrate the place with him and see something - that was bound to interest me. He was like a woman with a secret, longing - to tell, telling a little, then feeling if he showed his hand entirely I - might not trouble to go at all. Whatever could the mystery be? Animal, - vegetable, or mineral? “Curiouser and curiouser.” - </p> - <p> - None of these things! So, following the shikari, his face all alight with - eager interest and desire to surprise me, we pushed our way through the - density of the foliage until we reached about the centre of the place. It - was a Titania’s bower, carpeted with green and shaded by lofty trees. I - sat down and gazed upon the wonders of it, though it would have taken me - hours to take in the many beauties in detail. They were so infinite in - variety, the etchings, the colour and the rainbow effects as the sun - glinted through the lustrous fresh verdure. I sat on and marvelled. To - think that outside of this there existed only a waste of red sand, ugly - and monotonous, and here—but it is ridiculous on my part to try and - describe it. I should like some Shakespeare to see it and try his art. - </p> - <p> - This did not please Clarence at all, who has no love for the beauties of - nature. We must push on. Then, of a sudden, he turned and running to a - tree, proudly patted its trunk. I looked and there I saw in indistinct - letters—my uncle’s initials. Clarence had evidently seen the deed of - vandalism committed. I could not have believed my relative would do such a - thing had I not seen the result with my own eyes. Not that I mean to say - my uncle is anything but truly British to the backbone, but I thought he - would have been the man to rise above the habits of his countrymen. I - never looked on the stern old shikari as a man likely to give the lighter - side of life the upper hand. <i>Ex pede Herculem!</i> - </p> - <p> - We turned to get back to the caravan, taking a different route and found - it stiffish going. In a little shady dingle I came on the remains of a - jungle king dead and turned to dust. The oasis had been his sepulchre - these many years, and there was little of him left to tell us of long - passed monarchy. His skull, which I looked at, was practically eaten away, - and was not worth taking. - </p> - <p> - A venomous snake struck at me here, but was turned by the top of my - shooting boot. It was a near shave, and I was off and out of the place in - quick time after that. - </p> - <p> - I missed a fine lion in this thick forest that evening, and followed him - in fear and trembling without getting him. On the way back to camp - however, disconsolate, I bagged a small oryx for the pot, which turned a - somersault like a hare does when shot in the head. I thought I had lost - him when I saw him leap about seven feet into the air, and then again and - again until I despatched him. - </p> - <p> - On another early morning here, having only a collector’s gun with me, I - put a charge into an old wart-hog, but failed to do more than prick him - into a great annoyance and send him off into the wilderness without - getting him. I was vexed with myself for hurting him. - </p> - <p> - Just here, too, we came on a kill which had been a jungle tragedy indeed: - the spoor of two oryx all about the outskirts of a green oasis, where - succulent bushes flourished, and confused pugs of a large lion. The pugs - had no beginning, only an ending, and a return path. Therefore the - devastator leaped from out his lair and struck down his prey all suddenly. - We measured the spring from where it is certain the great cat must have - taken off to the spot where lay the half-consumed oryx, lying as he fell, - and it came out at nineteen feet. - </p> - <p> - Somalis are exceedingly fond of giving nicknames to one another, more or - less personal, and the European does not escape his satire in this - direction. All the men in our caravan answered to names of the most - irritatingly personal variety, though they all took the for the most part - rude attention to some unfortunate peculiarity quite good humouredly. I - asked Clarence one day, as we were sitting under a shady guda tree waiting - for what might chance to cross our line of fire, what the men had been - pleased to christen me. He assented diffidently to the assumption that I - had a nickname, but gave me to understand he would rather not mention it, - if indeed he had not forgotten it, and a lapse of memory seemed imminent. - This piqued my curiosity naturally, and I gave him no peace until I - extracted what I wanted to know more than anything else just then. - Prepared for any mortal thing, for the Somali nicknames are nothing if not - deadly descriptive, I learned I was called by the men “Daga-yera,” small - ears. This was not so bad, and at least not uncomplimentary. Clarence - looked at me keenly to see if he noted any signs of offence but I was - smiling broadly, so he smiled too. I told him that with us small ears are - not considered a drawback, whatever they may be in Somaliland. - </p> - <p> - Almost on every march we came on graves, some together, here and there one - alone, marking the spot where some traveller had fallen by the way. An - important head-man, or chief, has a perfect stockade of thorn bushes and - stones piled atop of him to keep off the jackals and hyænas. The women, - however, less important in death as in life, have merely thorn piled - casually on their tombs with some such relic as a bit of an old shield or - worse for wear ham strung aloft to act as a deterrent to the scratchings - of wild beasts. When we passed by graves the men would cross their hands - and say a prayer, whether for themselves or for the dead I do not know. - They would be solemn for a moment, brooding, and then set off a-chanting - again. They are a strange romantic people, whose sun ever follows on the - silver mist of rain. - </p> - <p> - A perfect avalanche of water fell after this for two whole days and kept - us in our drenched tents. And again everything was wet through. Rain is a - very real terror to the poor camper out. Fires are off and many little - comforts, that passed unnoticed before, go with them. We had our spirit - lamp, and had economised with it all along, only using it on hopeless - occasions like the present. Cecily again fled to her warm whisky and water - cure, and I drank ammoniated quinine until my brain reeled. My tent, after - a night of deluge which more resembles the bursting of a reservoir than - anything else I can think of, collapsed altogether, and was a perfect - wreck. Since mine own doors refused to entertain me I migrated to - Cecily’s, after digging out my belongings from the <i>débris</i>, and, - packed like sardines, we had to go on until I got my flattened home set to - rights, which I did after a lot of trouble. - </p> - <p> - Two black-backed jackals came close around the tents several times during - the torrential rains. I think they winded the rhino, who was by now - exceedingly “niffy.” About six one evening, when the rain ceased for a - short five minutes, I had a shot at one venturesome jackal and caught him - in the shoulder. I had to rush after him and follow quite a long way - before I got within range again, when I finished the job with a long shot. - Clarence and one of the hunters brought his skin and head to camp. I - admire the black-backed jackal, next to the koodoo, more than any other - trophy to be found in Somaliland. It is quite unique in colouring. A - veritable admixture of the <i>beaux arts</i> and the bizarre. - </p> - <p> - A fine day again, and with everything steaming like boiling water we - trekked on. Two or three of the camels were suffering terribly from sore - backs, and had to be placed <i>hors de combat</i> and unloaded, thus - disorganising everything. We can take the average load at 250 pounds, - though it frequently exceeds this, because naturally loads vary with the - nature of the things to be carried, bulky or compact, easy or difficult. - On being required to walk, one sick animal refused to budge another inch. - It is very hard to judge the extent of the illness of a camel. They do not - act any differently, ill or well, as far as my small experience goes. - Clarence and the head camel-man made certain that the creature was sick - unto death, and finally it had to be shot. It would not walk, we could not - tow it, and humanity forbade our leaving it to fend for itself. All the - camels were bothered no end by a small fly, a species of gad-fly, I think, - not very large, but most mischievous. - </p> - <p> - One or two of the animals were so overcome with the attentions of these - pests of insects they took to rolling, which, all encumbered as the camels - were, could not but be exceedingly detrimental to the load. These troubles - continued for some days, and the camel we lost may have been too badly - bitten to go on. This fly is a cause of great loss to the Somali herds. - Another joined the attack, a fearsome creature too—much larger again—and - he seemed to prefer people to camels. We, Cecily and myself, kept him off - by bathing the exposed parts of our skin in solution of carbolic, and this - seemed to him an anathema-maranatha and was to us a god-send. We only - wished we had sufficient to tub all the camels. I think our precautions - against these annoying flies helped to keep off the fearful ticks also. - Our ponies were much affected by them, and the camels, poor things, lived - in a chronic state of providing nourishment for the hateful little - insects, which grew and fattened by what they fed on. Some of the - antelopes we shot had these ticks very badly too, and in one or two cases - the skin was marred thereby, being pitted with small pin-head spots all - over the even surface. - </p> - <p> - There was now such an abundance of water we decided to camp for a day and - have a washing of ourselves and our clothes. It was not clear water as we - use the word, but limpidly translucent compared to most of the water holes - we had struck lately. Game was plentiful again, but very, very shy. - </p> - <p> - We went out at dawn and saw spoor of many varieties of game and rhino; of - the last a perfect maze of tracks. I had privately no intention, however I - may have play-acted to Cecily with a view of keeping up appearances, of - being in at another battue; but Fate, that tricksy dame, ordained - otherwise. As we were spooring for leopard, and hard on him, we suddenly - came on a vast rhino calmly lying down by a patch of guda thorn. The idea - of another fracas with an infuriated animal of the genus was too much for - me, and I shamelessly turned on my heel, taking the precaution, however, - to grab my rifle from my hunter as I passed him. - </p> - <p> - I put myself behind a little adad tree, and turned to see what was going - on. The great lumbering bulk stood up, winded us, saw us too, I should - think, and sniffed the air. There was very poor cover immediately around - the pachyderm, but a thick belt of khansa and mimosa jungle lay to our - left and the country behind us was fairly thick. - </p> - <p> - All this unexpected treat was joy untold to Cecily, I suppose; it was - absolute horror to me. If she could have had the affair all to herself it - wouldn’t have mattered, but how are you to know which hunter the rhino may - select to chase? His sight is so poor, his charge goes this way or that, - and has, in my experience, next to nothing to do with the way of the wind; - and all this makes it quite impossible to reduce the possibilities of his - onslaught to a mathematical calculation beforehand. Another moment and the - huge animal was rushing straight at my poor bit of thorn bush, a mere - broken reed of a shelter. What was I to do? Anger the brute with a useless - frontal shot, or fly on the wings of terror? The wings of terror had it. I - abandoned my untenable position, and gained another very little better. I - let the rhino have the right barrel just as I installed myself, and looked - for Cecily to finish the affair. She was doing a scientific stalk on the - flank. - </p> - <p> - The rhino was now spinning about and knocking up the dust in clouds. I - played Brer Rabbit and “lay low.” I saw Cecily expose herself to the full - view of the wounded animal, and her 12-bore spoke. We were spared another - charge, thank goodness; and as the dust subsided I saw the rhino ambling - quickly towards the thick cover, blood pouring from its shoulder. We - followed, discreetly, I assure you, as far as I’m concerned, on the blood - trail until we reached the fringe of jungle. The men volunteered to beat, - but I was set against this; so we wandered about on the edge of this - natural zareba awaiting developments, my heart in my mouth the whole time. - Intrepid Cecily was all for penetrating the thorn, and at last came on a - place she could at least peer into. There was not a sound nor rustle, nor - crackle of twig. Then Clarence, in evil minute, suggested firing the - place, and under Cecily’s directions at once set about the business with - his fire stick. I had often tried to acquire the knack of summoning the - spirit of flame thus, but had long since given it up as an accomplishment - impossible for me to learn. - </p> - <p> - The thorn was damp and took some time to ignite, but in half an hour the - blaze got a fair start and simply ate up all before it. We had to back - farther and farther away each moment. Volumes of smoke rolled away to the - northward, and the heat grew insufferable. It had been about as much as we - could stand before we began operations. The flames roared away, licking up - every trace of vegetation. I was so surprised no small affrighted animals - broke cover, but this was explained to my wondering mind a moment later, - when, to my amazement, a tawny lioness sprang from the burning bush and, - terror-stricken, passed close to me—so close almost I could have - touched her. I ran straight to my waiting pony held by my syce at some - distance, mounted, and calling to a couple of men to follow, galloped on - the track of the lioness. Occasionally I caught glimpses of her as she - cantered between the low-lying bushes. Then she disappeared suddenly and - precipitately. There was a small nullah hereabouts, and I made certain the - great cat had brought up there; so I rode on and then settled down on the - verge to wait for the shikaris to come up. When they arrived, they - surrounded the place in most daring fashion, and began to prod with their - spears into the thickest grass and thorn, keeping up a hideous yelling the - while. - </p> - <p> - A choking, gurgling roar, and the lioness was out and off. I hastily - brought up my rifle and fired. It was a shaky shot enough, and I only got - her in the hind quarter. Things looked a bit nasty as she turned on us, - ears laid back, mouth curled up in a furious snarl, and tail working up - and down like a clockwork toy. She sprang, as a set off, several feet into - the air. Such mighty bounds with a sideway twist about them, and I did not - delay longer. - </p> - <p> - Seeing the great head over my sights, I pulled the trigger. Still she came - on a few yards, worrying the ground with her mouth. Then the game and - magnificent creature crashed forward and never moved again-She was a young - lioness, in the heyday of beauty, and I sat down quivering all over at the - sight of so wondrous a prize. After directing the three men who had - followed to skin and decapitate my lioness, I worked back to the retreat - of the rhino. On my way I sighted a dibatag and a couple of graceful oryx, - but saw them disappear on the horizon without an attempt to annex one of - them. It was not only late, but the men had all they could manage. - </p> - <p> - I imagined the rhino would be by now accounted for. It was—thoroughly! - Cicely met me as I neared the blackened waste, and explained they had - waited and waited for the rhino to break cover, expecting the rush every - second, and the flames and heat drove them almost out of range. Nothing - happened, and it was not until the whole brake of thorn was a heap of - ashes that they came on the pachyderm at last. His charred bulk lay in the - smouldering embers, and until the place cooled it was impossible to - retrieve his horns. What a pity and what a waste! We both cursed the fire - stick and our haste. One bullet, Cecily’s, I surmise, must have penetrated - the rhino’s heart, and after careering on for a short way the stricken - animal settled down silently to die. We were intensely put out. Not even - the beautiful lioness allayed our disappointment and chagrin. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0205.jpg" alt="0205 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0205.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - After a rest and a meal in camp we returned to the scene of the still - smoking barbecue. The vultures rose in a slothful lazy mass, and perched - again around us. The hide of the rhino was too roasted to be of any use, - and the men commenced sawing off the horns, a slow, weary job which we - left them to finish. Bed was what I prayed for just then. I was wearied - out. It had been our biggest, hottest day yet, and next morning, Sunday - too, I deliberately and carefully detained Morpheus—what a loop-hole - for a Somali scandal—until 9 a.m. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XII—OUR BUTLER LEVANTS - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - O, I am out of breath in this fond chase - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Midsummer Night’s Dream - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent10"> - Good morrow to you both; what counterfeit did I give you? - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - The slip, sir, the slip - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Romeo and Juliet - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>henever - practicable, usually when we remained a day or two in the one place, I - made the men build me a little hut of bushes, so that if there was any - breeze it blew through the branches. At such times I made my canvas - residence a cache-tent, and gladly took up my abode in my jerry-built - shelter, esteeming myself lucky in having it. I should never have done for - a Bedouin or Baluchi. I hate and detest tents, even the most sumptuous. - They are the hottest and coldest residences I know. Give me four walls and - a roof of any sort! Be they never so humble they are better than the best - tent that ever was made. Really, if it hadn’t been for the flies that - unceasingly did worry, my <i>pied-a-terre</i> was luxury, and I could sing - with unmixed pleasure as I looked across at my, for the nonce, discarded - tent, “I wouldn’t leave my little wooden hut for you.” - </p> - <p> - My furniture was of the “art” variety that you see so frequently - advertised in that useful little journal indispensable to housewives, <i>Home - Snips</i>. Two wooden boxes up-ended, with a box lid for top, formed the - table. It was simple and effective, and only lacked the necessary - Aspinall, hedge-sparrow blue for choice, to convert it into a joy for - ever. The remainder of “the suite” matched. A <i>herio</i> made me a - carpet, a biscuit-box a foot-stool. Cecily went in for Spartan simplicity, - and her tent was quite like you read of famous generals who wilfully make - themselves unnecessarily uncomfortable. - </p> - <p> - Late one evening we had a fracas with the butler. That henchman entered - the precincts of our tent where we were hungrily awaiting supper, and - instead of depositing my cup of soup on to another “art” table presented - me with it in the form of an avalanche down my back. The soup was not only - hot, burning hot, but exceedingly messy, being of the variety known to our - cook as “thick”—<i>Anglice</i>, not sieved—and with more bits - in it than usual. Our appearance was not so enticing that it could bear - being played any pranks with, or putting to any additional strain. - Moreover, the cook had no more soup prepared. I had it all, he said. I had - indeed! - </p> - <p> - I gave our butler a sound talking to for his carelessness in this matter - and in others, and incidentally cast doubts on the <i>savoir faire</i> of - that English family who know what’s what. This was the last straw, and I - was answered in a furious jabber of talk. I could not make head nor tail - of it, or even get a word in edgeways. Clarence came to the rescue as - usual. He translated, and tried to stem the torrent of language. - </p> - <p> - Finally, the whole thing resolved itself into this. Our butler refused to - “buttle” any more. He gave notice, and desired to leave our service. When - I understood, I could not help laughing. I said of course I accepted the - notice, but how he proposed it to take effect was beyond my understanding, - as we were miles from Berbera, at the very back of beyond, and there could - be no means of leaving the caravan with any degree of safety or sense. If - the butler remained, as remain he obviously must, I insisted on his - buttling as usual, but better. He withdrew at last, angry looking and - discontented, and we went to bed. - </p> - <p> - I remember what a lively night it was. A lion roared for two hours or more - at intervals of ten minutes, very close to camp—such fine majestic, - rolling roars, ending each time in three rumbling “grumphs.” I hoped the - watch watched, and looking forward to meeting my serenader next day, I - turned over and tried to sleep. What a glorious country to be in! I might - anticipate presenting myself on the morrow to a king, and no mere ordinary - mortal, without the “open sesame” of “let me introduce” being necessary. - What a glorious country! Convention spelt with a little c, and originality—that - most excellent of things—everywhere rife. No running of jungle - affairs on the deadly tram-lines of tradition, and everything new looked - on askance. Mrs. Grundy does not live in the wild; an’ she did - conventionality would be taught to the jungle people, and she would rob - them of all their naturalness. Doesn’t she regard originality very much in - the light of a magazine of combustibles, and take care to lose all the - matchboxes? But I—superior I—in Somaliland might strike, and - strike, and strike. - </p> - <p> - Having once returned to Nature, one has eaten of the tree of life and - knowledge, and can never again be content with what we call - “civilisation.” Fortunately Nature can be discovered everywhere quite - close at hand if we hunt very carefully, but unless God is very - particularly kind with His storms and clouds, imagination has often to do - so much. Then, as if to remind me of my own smallness and impotence and - limitations, came that earthquake roar again. - </p> - <p> - In the morning breakfast was served by one of the hunters who told us that - Clarence—good man—was out betimes spooring for the lion of the - night, and we hurried our meal that we might not lose any time in getting - started out ourselves. The butler did not appear, and I did not ask for - him, because I judged he was trying to recover his lost temper and sense - of dignity. Breakfast over, Clarence rode into camp, and we heard raised - voices and much discussion. We went on cleaning rifles. Presently a very - perturbed Clarence hurried to us, and told us that the butler had taken - notice, yet without it had annexed one of our best camels, its driver, a - supply of food, and levanted! Heaven only knows where! How did he propose - to reach safety, all unarmed as he was too. But—was he unarmed? As - the thought struck us both instantaneously, we rushed—Cecily and I—pell-mell - to our armoury, and delved into it. In an agony of fury we realised that - our <i>ci-devant</i> butler had taken with him our ‘35 Winchester. I doubt - if he ever fired a rifle in his life, but I swore he shouldn’t learn on - ours. I would go after him, and catch up with him, if I had to pursue him - all the way to Berbera itself. My chance of meeting that lion—which - Clarence had practically located—were knocked out at 1000 to 1. - </p> - <p> - A few speedy directions and questions produced a couple of our best - camels, lightly laden, and the knowledge that the fugitive had about an - hour’s start of us, having indeed, waited to go until he saw Clarence - clear of the camp. I reproached the caravan that they had not prevented - the running away, but no sense could be driven into their stupid heads. - Every man feigned complete ignorance. The stolid “me no savey” of the - Chinaman is not a whit more obtuse or provoking than the Somali - equivalent. They can be as beautifully dense as the most wilfully - non-understanding Chinee. Hammers won’t drive a subject in if that subject - is, in their opinion, better kept out. They are diplomatic, but maddening. - </p> - <p> - Our two camels for the pursuit were loaded up with a small amount of food - in case we were out all night, and taking my .500 Express as the best all - round rifle, I mounted, not without trepidation, an evil-looking beast, - whose driver greeted me with a tolerant and broad smile. Clarence, as to - the manner born, put himself on the other animal, and with a waved - “Good-bye” to Cecily, who, lucky person, was going after King Leo, we set - out. My irritation and annoyance at being so signally done kept me up for - a short time, but it was not really long before the unaccustomed method of - travel began to tell. I had never before been for a long excursion on - board a ship of the desert, certainly I had previously no idea of what it - could do going “full steam ahead.” It is difficult to explain the matter - delicately. To put it as nicely as possible, I suffered horribly from - “mal-de-camel.” - </p> - <p> - We never stopped, we rushed on at top speed. The way the camel-men picked - up the trail of the runaway was very clever, sorting it out from other - trails, and must, I think, have been born of centuries of following. - Sometimes the great splayed track lay ahead for all to see, but ofttimes - it was lost—to me—in a maze of stones and scrub and thick - country. We went on until, as far as I was concerned, the world was - revolving around me, the sun a gimlet to bore my brain, the dust a dense - curtain to my mind. I did not now look ahead. Vengeance and the desire for - it had left me. Let the man go, and the rifle with him. Probably it would - prove Nemesis enough without my taking on the function! - </p> - <p> - Suddenly Clarence shouted, and pointed enthusiastically to the horizon. - Yes, there was a twirling column of dust. The fugitive of course. We had - come up with him sooner than I thought. The driver urged along our camel - until we fairly shot over the ground, and presently we could hear the pad, - pad, pad of our stolen animal, and see plainly the recreant butler, - apparently in two minds whether to alter his course or not. His party - swerved suddenly, away to the left, towards a tangle of thorn country. - This was absolute nonsense, and I was provoked into firing anyhow, very - wide, I need hardly say <i>how</i> wide, as a sort of warning to pull up. - The runaways slackened speed at once, and the chase ended like a pricked - bubble. We ranged alongside, and without speaking, bar a few curt - directions, turned campwards, and slowly—oh, how slowly—retraced - our way. We did not make home until 5.30, and during the whole of the - hours since morning we had been going solid, and of course had no - opportunity to get a meal. I personally did not require one, but the men - must have been hungry. - </p> - <p> - Terribly jolted and worn out I made for my little hut, and lay down for an - hour or so. Cecily was still out, and I resolved to wait for her - assistance to tell off our shameless henchman. She arrived at last from a - fruitless expedition. She came on the kill and followed the lion up, saw - him, then lost all trace of him in thick khansa cover. So we hoped for - better luck next day. - </p> - <p> - Clarence conducted the crest-fallen butler to the presence, and we - intimated to him that we were astonished, not to say disgusted; that the - promised bonus at the end of the trip was now non-existent as far as he - was concerned; and further, on returning to Berbera, he would be indicted - for the attempted stealing of the rifle and camel. These words had - tremendous effect. He begged us to forgive him. With sophistry unequalled - he explained that our ways were strange to him, that the Mem-sahib in - whose household he was such an ornament was not like unto these - Mem-sahibs. - </p> - <p> - She stayed at home, and we—“We scour the plain,” put in Cecily. - </p> - <p> - It was all very absurd, and as we were for the time being perfectly - impotent, however much we might bluster, we provisionally pardoned him on - condition that he returned to butler’s duty, and henceforth spelt it with - a capital D. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, frabjous day! Calloo! Callay!” - </p> - <p> - Our men reported that the lion—presumably the same lion—had - returned to his kill, and was now lying up in the bushes watching the - meat. Our tempers had recovered their balance, and we happily set out, - Clarence promising that we should “paint um day red.” His vocabulary was - varied enough to amuse us, and what little English he was absolute master - of was interspersed with the quaintest idioms of Hindostanee and American, - which he would bring out in whole representative sentences. His last big - “shikar” was with an American magnate who wanted, said Clarence, to “shoot - um libbah before um died.” Whether it was to be before the lion died or - the sportsman seemed a bit involved, though as it was obvious that the - sportsman could not very well go shooting after crossing the “Great - Divide,” the demise of the lion must have been referred to. It certainly - was more sporting to wish to shoot at the animal before it expired than - after. - </p> - <p> - It was the oddest thing in the world to hear that Americanism of “Painting - the town red” on the lips of the solemn Somali. Did he wonder at its - origin as I did? I remember hearing it for the first time in a little - Western mining camp, when its familiarity struck my ear. But it eluded me, - until at last I placed it. You remember where Dante, guided by Virgil, - comes on the suffering spirits of Paolo and Francesca: - </p> - <p> - “<i>Noi che tingemmo il mondo di sanguino</i>.” - </p> - <p> - There in a nutshell lies the origin of the “painting the town red” phrase. - One cannot but admire the literary points of American slang, though we - know there is so little originality in the mind of man, even of the - American. There is no time to create. It is simpler to take the - ready-made, so that all our speech and writing is unconsciously but a - series of quotations from the great human poets, who expressed simple - human thoughts in the most perfect and yet the simplest words. Every - thought we have can be expressed in quotations from Horace, Dante, and - Shakespeare. - </p> - <p> - The strength of our party on that memorable morning comprised six of us—Cecily, - myself, Clarence and three hunters. The men led us first to the kill, from - which two sleuth-like forms glided away—jackals, young ones, with - youthful rough coats. Vultures poised motionless in the blue, or nearer - flew sluggishly, with legs hanging loosely, screaming. - </p> - <p> - The dead aoul poisoned the air with odoriferous whiffs, and I found it - difficult to believe that a lion had returned to a carcase in such an - advanced stage of decomposition, but apparently it was so. Among the - devious trails of hyæna and jackal were the indents of lion spoor. Massed - often, and there in the sand was the plainly seen mark of the crouched - beast as he gnawed his food. We found, too, at a short distance a piece of - dropped flesh, and either side of it the pugs holding on and quiescent. - </p> - <p> - Our men, as a rule, wore tremendously heavy sandals, which turned up at - the front like the prow of a ship, but when stalking the hunters discarded - these and were barefooted. For stalking some game the lightest of foot - wear is essential, and though, as a rule, I wore nothing but boots, I - found a pair of moccasins very handy on occasions; they are too hot, - though, for wear in such a country, and the knowing and learned shikari - provides himself with cotton shoes. The thorns are too insistent to make - any light footwear pleasurable to me, but I have gone the length of taking - off my boots and running in stocking feet when a particularly alert koodoo - needed an exceptionally careful stalk, but it was a painful business, even - if necessary, and I don’t advocate it. - </p> - <p> - Two exquisite lesser koodoo does crossed our front going like the wind, - and we heard a distant bark. Otherwise the jungle slept in the heat of the - sun. Our ponies drooped their heads as the fierce rays smote them between - the eyes. Waves of heat seemed to come rising and rising as the hoofs - churned up the sand. - </p> - <p> - We dismounted presently, and two of the hunters bestrode the ponies and - fell behind. Fresh lion spoor was now crossing the old trail, and we - decided to follow it up. We came on some very dense mimosa and khansa, and - in this zareba the pugs vanished. We encircled the whole place. There were - no other prints. Our quarry was run to earth. Cecily fired into the mimosa - once, twice, and instantly, like a toy, the machinery was set in motion, - and great snarling growls breaking into stifled roars broke on the quiet - air. This was a most business-like lion, and evidently was for putting up - with none of our monkey tricks. The bushes parted, and quicker than I can - set it down a lion charged out straight, like a whirlwind, past one of our - men who stood next to me. The beast would have gone on had not the hunter - made the greatest possible mistake. He bolted, thereby drawing attention - to himself. The lion turned on the man, catching him, it seemed to me, by - the leg, and they fell in an inextricable heap. We dared not fire because - of the danger, but not a moment was lost. - </p> - <p> - All the four hunters rallied to the aid of their comrade. One threw a - spear, which might have done some good had it been pitched accurately. It - fell wide. One smart little fellow actually ran up and whacked the lion a - resounding slap with a rifle—poor rifle! A most brave and familiar - way of acting. It was effectual though. The lion turned from his purpose - and made a bid for safety in the bushes again. I let fly my right barrel - at him as he crashed in, but know I missed, for all I heard was metallic - singing in my ears and no answering thud of a bullet striking flesh. I - went towards the place where the cat vanished. The humane Cecily was - attending to the injured man. - </p> - <p> - The lion betrayed his exact location by low growls, and I did all I knew - to induce him to charge out again. I shouted, the men shouted, we - whistled, we fired. Then the enraged animal took to roaring, real - resounding roars, in which his personal animus railed at us. I instructed - the men to remain as they were, talking and endeavouring to weary the lion - into breaking cover, whilst I did a stalk. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0219.jpg" alt="0219 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0219.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - When investigated from the other side, the citadel chosen for the great - stand was of less dense khansa, and the umbrella tops made great dark - shelters for the tunnels between the stems. It was most exciting and - dangerous, and I had so many things to plan and think out. I crawled in, - and commenced to work my way towards the place occupied by my enemy, whose - exact position could be located to a nicety by his growls and snarls, and - the noise he kept up was of the greatest help to me. Even the lightest, - deftest tracker could hardly go through bush like that in silence. - </p> - <p> - It was very dark at first in my covert, but at intervals it lightened up. - I crawled for the best part of half an hour, and then, when my aching - hands almost refused to drag me farther, I found myself in dense - undergrowth, in the actual vicinity of the lion, who halfstanding, - half-crouching, was facing, in sparser cover the direction of my hunters - and the scene of the catastrophe. There was nothing to fire at but - swishing tail. The grass and aloes hid any vital part, and I dared not - miss, whatever came about. A heart shot, or a head shot it must be, or the - sportswoman! Oh, where was she! The thought struck through my brain of the - imminence of my danger should Clarence or one of the others take to some - flank movement whereby the present position of things might be altered by - a hair’s breadth. As it was, time was what I needed, and I should get - that. It was foolish of me to doubt my shikari’s common sense. I had never - known him fail, and he knew I was carefully stalking. I heard their voices - at intervals in the distance, buzzing, and it all seemed some chimera of - my brain. Myself in that hot jungle tangle, and but twenty yards away a - lion of mettle and business-like habits! I was on my knees in half-raised - position, and had he turned even in a half circle, he must, I verily - believe, have seen me, and sorted me out as something untoward. - </p> - <p> - The air was stifling, and oh! how heavily I weighed on my knees! My - fighting weight seemed enormous as I supported it. It was eight stone - really and seemed like eighteen, but of course it was because, in my - excitement, Antæus-like, I pressed down heavily to something solid until I - drew my strength from earth, and thus took heart of grace. I carefully got - up my rifle. It seemed a long business. Did I really make no noise? - Strange crackling rustlings sounded in my ears, as at each growl I seized - the opportunity, and in the semi-obscurity of the reverberations placed - myself better. The lion came more into focus. I saw his side where it sank - in, then—farther. A heart-shaking second. My bullet was too low. The - vast body lashed round and round. I seemed to see what my fate would be in - another instant. My breath was coming in great sobs, and I wondered - whether the lion was choking or I. All this was in the fraction of a - moment. Then came my opportunity. His chest presented itself fair and - square like a target. I pressed my second trigger, and then threw myself - backwards and went anyhow as though the devil himself was after me; like a - streak of greased lightning. “You kill um libbah?” asked Clarence, who - remained pretty much as I had last seen him. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know,” I gasped, stupidly enough. - </p> - <p> - And neither did I. - </p> - <p> - Loading up carefully again, I carefully retraced my steps, Clarence - crawling after me. There was no sound. All was still as death. We crept on - until we reached my coign of vantage, and there ahead, prone, motionless, - lay a great yellow mass, some ten yards nearer than at my first shot. He - was dead indeed, and a very fine specimen of his kind. Strangely enough, - he had one eye missing, the hall-mark of some early battle, and to this - fact I possibly owed much of the credit I had been taking to myself for my - stalk. Then began the usual <i>modus operandi</i> for the animal’s - dismemberment, and I cleared out of the place to find that Cecily had - taken the injured man back to camp, propping him up on her pony with the - help of the second hunter. My pony was amusing itself at some distance, - having dragged its moorings, and I caught him after a bit of a tussle. - </p> - <p> - The invalid was given my tent, which smelt like concentrated essence of - High Churchism. Keating’s incense smouldered in one corner and burning - carbolic powder fought it for the mastery. Puzzled mosquitoes buzzed in - and out, but more out than in, thanks be. The man’s leg was torn in strips - which hung in two or three inch lengths, fleshy and horrible. We arranged - the torn shreds back, like patching an ornament minus the seccotine. We - covered the wounds with iodoform—very amateurishly of course—and - then bandaged it. Altogether I think the invalid was rather pleased with - himself, as he lay up in the cache-tent, feeling, doubtless, the - importance of having been in the jaws of a lion and come out alive from - such a gin. - </p> - <p> - As we could not move him for several days, we arranged to form quite a - good zareba, strong and comfortable, round our follower, and make flying - excursions of which it should be the base. The wounded hunter proved a - very unwilling dawdler, being an active-souled creature, and did not take - at all kindly to a life of enforced idleness. He acted like an irritated - vegetable, and only slept and drowsed the hours away, and kept his leg up, - because I solemnly told him he would die if he did not. I think the active - spirits in nations not yet civilised are always the better. Laziness is - demoralising anywhere, and with it one soon harks back to the animal. - Energetic souls are never idle from choice. The power to idle successfully - and with comfort must be inborn. During his days of illness our charge - grew really attached to us, and looked for our coming with an expansive - smile of welcome. We kept the fever down with quinine, and before many - weeks were over his scars were healed into cicatrices, which, of course, - he could never lose. They would, however, be a glorious asset and - advertisement, showing such undoubted zeal, and should commend the - proprietor to any one on the look-out for a truly sporting hunter. - </p> - <p> - While I was examining the skull and wet skin of the lion as Clarence - pegged it out, our cook volunteered the information that the butler had - gone again on a still better camel, with the same driver, but minus a - rifle. I had thought he would settle down to a dreary acceptance of the - position. It really was uncomfortable to harbour two such unwilling people - in our otherwise contented caravan, so we decided they were better gone - even at the cost of a camel, and this time we wasted no energy on trying - to retrieve them. Whether they ever made safety again we never could find - out. Their movements from that hour were wrapped in mystery, and the - butler, the driver, and the camel disappeared for ever from our ken. They - must have wanted to go very badly. It was not complimentary, but we put as - good a face on the crusher as we could. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIII—WE CROSS THE MAREHAN - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - They are as sick that surfeit with too much, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - As they that starve with nothing - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Merchant of Venice - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>nd now for a few - days we struck a period of bad luck. Our larder was empty save for tins of - food kept for dire emergencies, and the men affected to be weak from scant - rations. In any other caravan they would never, or hardly ever, have had - them supplemented by flesh food; but we had thoroughly spoiled them. Game - grew scarce, even the ubiquitous dik-dik was absent, and any shot we got - on these flying excursions of ours away from the base camp we bungled. The - more we failed the more disconcerted we became. How true it is nothing - succeeds like success! At last matters got so bad we both of us always - politely offered the other the chance of a miss. I would first decline to - take it, and then Cecily. Meanwhile the buck made good its escape. We both - got backward in coming forward, and, in American parlance, were thoroughly - rattled. - </p> - <p> - At last I volunteered to go out early one morning with Clarence, and we - put up a bunch of aoul some five hundred yards away. They winded us, and - went off at their best pace. In desperation I spurred on the pony, and - called to Clarence to try and round up the flying creatures from behind a - clump of mimosa and shoot one himself if he could. Of course they passed - the place sailing ere ever he reached it. As we galloped along our rush - disturbed another band of aoul at close quarters, and in sheer desperation - I checked my pony so suddenly that he sat down. I flung myself into a - semblance of a position, and fired at the vanishing quarters of a - fine-looking buck. He staggered and kicked out, but caught up again with - his fellows, and they all disappeared in a cloud of dust. Mounting again, - we dashed after them, and after a hard gallop came on the wounded animal - going slower and far separated from the others. I dared not try a shot - from the saddle, as the going was so bad; and if there is one thing I - object to it is a cocked rifle at a gallop over ant-bear holes. - </p> - <p> - The aoul put on a spurt and my pony began to show signs of stress, and - blundering terribly let me down suddenly over a large-sized hole. Much - shaken, I gathered up my scattered wits and called to Clarence to ride the - buck down. It was certainly wounded, and, I judged, badly so. To return to - the famishing, reproachful camp without meat was unthinkable, as we had - done it so often lately. I sat where I was tossed and meditated until I - felt a burning sensation on my finger, sharp and stinging, and found it to - be a scorpion of sorts. He paid toll for such a liberty, and the butt of - my rifle finished him. I immediately sucked the stung finger - perseveringly. What an odd thing it is—or seems odd to me, being - unlearned—that no mischief ever comes from the poison being sucked - into the system <i>via</i> the mouth. Not even the virulent poison of the - rattler harms this way. When I got into camp I soaked my finger in - ammonia, and so got off excellently well. - </p> - <p> - I bestrode my weary steed again, asking no more of it than a slow walk, - and followed on the traces of Clarence and the aoul. I shouted after a - while, and he replied. I came on him shortly, sitting by the dead aoul, - resting between moments of butchery. I hadn’t heard a shot, but I must - have been too dazed. We were a long way from camp, and the difficulty - confronted us of packing so large a buck back. We could only do it - conveniently, as I did not want to walk, minus the head and feet. The - horns were good, but the head as a trophy was ruined by the way its neck - was cut. The system of “hallal” doesn’t seem to allow of ordinary - throat-cutting, far down, where the gash does not show. The gash must run - from ear to ear, consequently it ruins a trophy for setting up purposes. - Laden, we hied us back to what Nathaniel Gubbins would call “the - home-sweet,” and were welcomed with glowing fires, on which the aoul, in - parts, was immediately frizzling. The men gorged incontinently, as Cecily - came in shortly after us with an oryx. These two beasts broke the run of - bad luck, and afterwards, for a few days, we could not miss a shot. Our - bullets seemed charmed. So did the men. They ate semiraw meat in such - large quantities I wondered they didn’t get mange and lose their hair. - There is no satisfying a Somali with meat. He cannot have sufficient. If a - man would give all the substance of a buck to him it would utterly be - condemned. - </p> - <p> - After what seemed like a very long period of doing very little, we judged - our follower was well enough to be moved, and very glad we were to strike - camp, as the men were none the better for so much idleness. It takes about - an hour to strike camp, load up, and set out. The camels kneel for the - process of lading, with an anchor in the shape of the head rope tied - behind the knees. Unloading is a much more expeditious business. - Everything comes off in a quarter the time taken up in putting it on. Our - rifles travelled in cases made to take two at full length. They were not - very cumbersome, and we felt that the terrific amount of banging about - they would receive during loading and unloading made it a necessity to - give them entire protection. - </p> - <p> - This, I feel sure, is the very moment your hardened, seasoned shikari - would seize to make a few pertinent remarks on the merits of various - sporting rifles. Anything I could say on the subject, either of rifles, or - the shooting on our expedition, I am diffident of setting down. The time - is not yet when masculinity will accept from a mere woman hints or views - on a question so essentially man’s own. In the days of my youth I troubled - myself to read all sorts of books on shooting: Hints to beginners on how - to shoot, hints to beginners on how not to shoot; how to open your eyes; - how to hold your rifle that you feel no recoil, how the rifle must be - fitted to your shoulder or you cannot do any good at all with it; and (gem - of all) how to be a good sportsman—as though one could learn that - from books! - </p> - <p> - All these tomes of wisdom were written for man by man. I tried to follow - out their often entirely opposite advice, but after a while, being a woman - and therefore contrary, I “chucked” all systems and manufactured rules for - myself. I don’t close either eye when I shoot. I shoot with both open. In - Cecily’s case her left is the most reliable, and she makes provision - accordingly. Our present rifles were not fitted to our shoulders. So far - as I know, they would have done nicely for any one’s shoulder. Either we - were making the best of things, putting up with inconveniences unknown to - us, or else there is a frightful lot of rubbish written around a - sportsman’s battery. In spite of any “advice” and “remarks” to the - contrary, I consider my 12-bore, with soft lead spherical bullets, driven - by drams of powder, ideal for lion and all more important, because - dangerous, game. When one did get a bullet in it stayed in, and there was - no wasting of its dreadness on the desert air. In reply to remarks as to - the undoubted superiority of this, that, and the other rifle, &c., - &c., &c., I merely answer oracularly: “May be.” - </p> - <p> - “This, General,” an American hostess once remarked to General Sheridan, - who was busily manipulating an ordinary fork at the commencement of a - banquet, “<i>this</i> is the oyster fork.” - </p> - <p> - “D——n it, madam,” answered the General, “I know it!” - </p> - <p> - In rifles, as in forks, and in many other things, <i>Chacun à son goût</i>. - </p> - <p> - Not even marksmanship can make a good sportsman, if there is any temper or - jealousy or smallness about one. A good sportsman is as happy on the - chance as on the certainty, and is not to be numbered as of the elect - because he has slaughtered so many head. It is not the quantity but the - quality that counts. Any one, short of an absolute lunatic, can hit a - large mark, say a buck, but not all men can hit it in a vital place. - Wounded animals, left in the jungle, are one of the most awful evidences - of unskilled shots, bad judgment, flurry, and an hundred other proofs of - things not learned or discovered for oneself. Of course, often it is that - the chances are entirely against one, and the quarry escapes; but the - careful, thoughtful, business-like shikari does not take on foolish - impossibilities. He knows that word without the “im,” and the result is - unerring success. Cecily and I never went in for anything but legitimate - rivalry, and unlike the majority of women who go in for games of chance - together never had the slightest desire to pull each other’s hair out, or - indulge in sarcastic badinage disguised as humour. - </p> - <p> - Wandering about the Mijertain we came on one or two wealthy tribes. Their - wealth consists of camels, and so many in a batch I had never before seen. - When grazing in their hundreds like this each mob of camels is led by one - of the most domineering character, who wears a bell, just as the leader of - cattle does in Canada. The camel-bell is made of wood, carved by the - natives, and, ringing in dull, toneless fashion, localises the band. - </p> - <p> - We now began to be afraid of our reception. We were out of the beaten - track, and Clarence was getting a bit out of his depth. Nothing untoward - happened We did not allow any stranger into our zareba, and met every - caller outside. We felt that if we played the Englishman’s home is his - castle idea for all it was worth we should be on the safe side. The Somali - children seem to begin to work and carry heavy weights when ours at home - are just about beginning to think it is time to sit up, and I never saw - such out-sized heads! They were all head and “Little Mary.” With age - equipoise asserts itself and the whole structure seems to revert to - humdrumidity. For three years at least every Somali could qualify for - Barnum’s as a freak. After that he begins to look like every other of his - countrymen. But not all are alike. For instance, the head-man of this - particular tribe was the most atrabilarious creature possible to meet. I - don’t think he could smile. We thought he must be crossed in love, but - Clarence said the Lothario had already worked through a little matter of - four wives, so I suppose his excursions into the realms of Cupid had been - fortunate rather than the reverse. - </p> - <p> - A Somali is entitled to four wives at once, and the number of his - children, as a rule, would rejoice the heart of President Roosevelt. The - more children the better for him, because they make for the strength of - the tribe. Even girls are not altogether despised assets, because in their - youth they are valuable to tend the camels and goats, and some day can be - bartered for sheep or ponies. Some Somali women go to their lords with - dowries, and, as with us at home, are the more important for their wealth. - Consideration is shown them that is lacking towards their poorer sisters - who toil and moil at heavy work the whole day long, and when on trek load - all the camels, and do all the heavy camp work. - </p> - <p> - We tried our best to propitiate this Mijertain savage—he really was - an ordinary savage—but he only glowered and received all overtures - in the worst possible taste and rudeness. One could have told he was rich - even if we hadn’t seen his banking account feeding in their thousands. - </p> - <p> - This tribe looked on the sporting spirit with distrust, evidently - suspecting ulterior motives. It would be hard to convey to an utterly - savage mind that we took on all this <i>storm und drang</i> of a big - expedition merely because we loved it. Trophies here descended to being - meat, and meat of all else topped the scale. Still, one could only eat a - certain amount before being very ill, so why such energy to procure an - unlimited quantity? I don’t think our sex was ever discovered here at all. - Englishwomen were not exactly thick on the ground, and I think it possible - the melancholy Mijertain had never previously seen one. Probably his - intelligence, of a very low order indeed, did not take him farther than - thinking what particularly undersized, emasculated English sahibs these - two were. - </p> - <p> - After a consultation we decided it would be really nice to do a long - forced march and put some miles between our two encampments. Somehow, we - couldn’t fraternise. And that beautiful sentence, without which no - suburban friendship is ever cemented—“Now you’ve found your way - here, you must be sure to come again”—was quite useless to be - spoken. In Suburbia that formula is a solemn rite, never disregarded in - the formation of a friendship. You might as well forget to ask “Is your - tea agreeable?” at an “At-Home” day. But in Somaliland you had friendship - offered so differently, if indeed it was offered at all. It came in the - guise of a dirty <i>harn</i> of camel’s milk, microbial and miasmatic, or - in the person of a warlike goat, who with no <i>mauvaise-honte</i> is - willing to take the whole caravan to his horns, or in cases of - overwhelming friendliness a sheep may be presented, with no thought of - return. We were rarely privileged to reach this giddy height—too - stand-offish, I conclude. - </p> - <p> - We did a stalk about this time that amused us very much. We went out alone - on our ponies, and came on a couple of oryx in a plot of country - interspersed with light cover of mimosa and thorn bushes, who winded us - and were off immediately. They did not run very far, but inquisitively - turned to stare back, standing close together. They were considerably out - of range. We separated, and Cecily rode off, so that finally we two and - the oryx formed the points of a triangle. A nomadic Somali came riding up, - the wind blowing away from him screened his approach, but presently the - oryx caught sight of this new apparition and back my way they raced. As - they came level with my pony I blazed at the nearest buck, but as I am no - good at all at shooting from the saddle I missed gloriously, and the - confused and startled animal fled helter skelter, and dashed headlong into - Cecily, who, not ready for the unexpected joust, went flying with the - impact. Fortunately oryx carry their heads high when at the gallop, so she - wasn’t really hurt, only winded. It does take one’s breath a bit to be - cannonaded into by a flying buck of the size of an oryx. I think this one - was the last we saw for some time, as this variety is very scarce in the - Mijertain and Haweea country. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0235.jpg" alt="0235 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0235.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - The Somali looked very much astonished, and after remarking a few not - understood sentences, took to a course of signalling of which we hadn’t - the code. We agreed between ourselves that the man meant his <i>karia</i> - was “over there,” so we windmilled back with our arms to demonstrate we - lived “over here,” which thoroughly mystified and fogged him. He made - things a trifle clearer by pointing to his mouth, and pretending to eat, - which could not mean anything but “an invitation to lunch would be - acceptable.” We nodded benignly and signed to him to follow us, and rode - back to camp. He gorged on oryx, like all the rest, and seemed to be about - to put himself on the strength of the caravan, dawdling round until later - on in the evening. We seemed to act on these wandering spirits like a - flypaper does on flies, but not wanting any more stickers I bade Clarence - ask our friend if they wouldn’t be missing him at home. And the last I saw - of our visitor was his outlined figure, in tattered tobe, riding away, - gnawing a lump of meat, a “speed the parting guest” present. - </p> - <p> - This particular part of the world was overdone with snakes, of a deadly - variety, black and horrible looking. I went warily now, I can tell you, - and there was no more tracking for a few days in anything but my stout - boots. - </p> - <p> - We next filled up every available thing that held water, and launched - ourselves fairly on to the Marehan Desert. Never was the word more apt. - The place was deserted by man and beast. There was no life nor thing - stirring. We marched the first day from dawn to about 10 a.m., when the - fierce sun forced us to take shelter in hastily erected tents. Even the - men, accustomed to the glare, made shift to primitive shelters from the <i>herios</i>. - The ponies stood up well, and the camels were calm as ever. Oh, the heat - of that frightful noon-day! We did not wish to eat, and put off meals - until the evening. The men were now on dates and rice, as we had no dried - meat, and fresh meat, even if we had been able to get it, would not have - kept an hour. - </p> - <p> - In the evening we doled out the water, and the ponies got their - insufficient share. Afterwards we marched on, travelling until very late, - or rather early. It was nearly full moon again, and the hideous parched-up - desert looked quite pretty, and was busy trying to pass itself off as a - delectable country. After too little of bed we rose and toiled on until - 9.30, when we caved in, this time very thoroughly, as Cecily had a bad - touch of the sun and was in rather a bad way. But progress we must, as - time was of the utmost consequence. I had a sort of hammock rigged up, - made from a camel mat, with a shelter over it; and she was carried along - in it that evening for some miles. During the night hours the bigness of - the job we had taken on began to appal me. I wished myself back in the - woodlands of Galadi. But it is not of much use in purgatory to sigh for - heaven! - </p> - <p> - Next dawn we could do no marching at all, and I was forced to use an - unlimited amount of the precious water to keep wet the handkerchief on - Cecily’s burning head, occasionally pouring some over her lavishly and in - regardless-of-consequence fashion. The heat in the tent, as out, was - unspeakable; and I spent most of the hours of that dreadful day fanning my - cousin, who was really in parlous state. Clarence told me late on in the - afternoon we must push on, whatever happened, as the water was very low - indeed. I gave the word, and we marched, Cecily carried as before. We - heard a lion roaring, but did not see anything, and it was not very likely - we should. Night was the only bearable time, and I would it had - perpetually remained night. - </p> - <p> - Not until the next night did we come on some water-holes, and they were - dry! I could not persuade the men to camp; they said the place was not - good, and mysterious things of that kind. I found out that the place was - supposed to be haunted by spirits of some sort, and it was no use ordering - or commanding, for the men would not stay to spend a night in the - vicinity. We had to go on. Matters were now really serious. - </p> - <p> - Cecily was much better, though still travelling luxuriously, but there was - not much more than a gallon of water left. We opened a bottle of lukewarm - champagne and drank a little at intervals, but this silly idea made us - nearly frantic with thirst, and we wished we hadn’t thought of it. The - ponies, poor creatures, had been without water for hours, and their - lolling tongues and straining eyes went to our hearts. Cecily was the more - concerned, because she said but for her the water would have lasted. I - assured her it was my prodigality, but in any case it was water well - wasted, as she was almost herself again. - </p> - <p> - I consulted with Clarence, and we found that by going on, never stopping, - for another twenty miles we should make wells. Twenty miles was a big - thing to us then with horses and men in the state ours were. I asked them, - through Clarence, to “make an effort,” and promised them water by the - morning. We struck camp on a grilling afternoon at 4.30. Cecily in her - hammock, I alternately walking to ease my pony, and then mounting for a - little to ease myself. I will not describe the tramp through the night, or - how very childish the men got. I prefer the English way of bearing small - troubles—in silence. I think it is embarrassing to be let in on the - ground floor of anyone’s emotion. - </p> - <p> - Let it pass! - </p> - <p> - A few camel men raced on ahead, and got to the wells before the main - caravan, who were able to quicken the pace pathetically little, and we - made safety, which this time spelt water, about an hour after dawn. I saw - the ponies watered myself before turning in, and I slept eight hours - straight on end. - </p> - <p> - Going out late in the evening with the object of securing something for - the pot, I came on a regular aviary of birds. Sand grouse and pigeons, - guinea-fowl and wild geese, and small birds too in thousands. I lay down - for a little and watched the small ones preparing for the night. I love - the tiny birds of Somaliland, and never wearied of studying their pretty - ways. It seems to me that they are most beautiful in proportion to their - size of any bird life. The protections, the pleadings, the dances, the - love-making, the little furies, the make-believes, cannot be excelled in - charm. - </p> - <p> - I was too wearied out to bother much, even though food in plenty was there - to my hand, and I don’t like killing anything so tame, even when I ought - to. When I got back to camp I sent Clarence out with instructions to shoot - some guinea-fowl and geese. - </p> - <p> - A vast caravan of some hundreds arrived at the wells in the middle of that - night, and things hummed for an hour or so. I was not disturbed, except by - the wrangling that went on all the hours until dawn. It was very cold, and - my “carpet” ended on the top of me! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIV—WE REACH A REAL LAKE - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - So fair a troop - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Call it a travel that thou tak’st for pleasure - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - King Richard II - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>n the morning we - found ourselves the centre of an admiring throng. Every mouthful of my - breakfast was criticised and commented on, every square yard of camp was - congested with Somalis, and when one, more daring than the rest, embraced - a rifle box, tight round its waist, as though to feel the weight, and then - let it drop, bump, my amazement and horror knew no bounds. Even had he - known the contents I don’t suppose the treatment meted out would have been - any kinder. The most experienced native hunter has an idea that rifles are - non-breakable, and a small kink or bulge here and there can make no - possible difference! But this—<i>this</i> was too much. I could not - order the zareba to be cleared, for the good reason we had no zareba, - having been too tired the previous day to form one. I could, and did, - however, order the tents to be struck, and meanwhile Cecily watched like a - detective at a fashionable wedding over the treasures. It would have been - fairly easy to have lost bits of our kit in such crowds. - </p> - <p> - Marching until about eleven, we settled down once more, only to be - immediately disturbed by a messenger from the head-man of the tribe just - so gladly parted from, who was followed hard on his tracks by a number of - horsemen, streaming across the plain, threading in and out between the - clumps of durr grass, the sun glinting on their shining spears. - </p> - <p> - They very kindly wished to entertain us with a species of circus - performance, known as the <i>dibâltig,</i> a great equestrian feat, - carried out in this case by some fifty Somalis on typical native ponies - got up for the occasion—a veritable attempt to make silk purses out - of sow’s ears—in trappings of red, and many tassels. Their riders - were dressed in brilliantly dyed tobes of green and scarlet and blue, and - each man carried a complete warrior’s kit of shield, spear, and short - sword. It was nice that the performance did not wait for us to go to it, - but placed itself right in our way like this—a great improvement on - the system of amusements at home. Our men gave up all idea of doing any - camp work for the time, and stood in an admiring throng in a half-circle - behind Cecily and myself, who were allowed a box each to sit on. - </p> - <p> - On a prairie-like waste of sand the Somalis formed in an even line, and - with the usual “Salaam aleikum,” the show began. One of the horsemen - advanced slightly, and still sitting in his peaked saddle, began to sing a - long chant. I do not know if he was chosen as chorister because of some - hereditary right in his family, or by favour, or because of the fancied - excellence of his voice. With every singer not all are pleased. So I will - just state that this one sang. I need not say <i>how</i>. It is rude to - look a gift horse in the mouth, and this was a free entertainment. The - warbler continued his romance and pæan in various tones for a long time - when, suddenly, at a more screeching note than usual, every man left the - line and galloped frantically about the sand, never knocking into each - other, throwing spears with all their force here, there, and everywhere, - to catch them up again as the ponies dashed past. The pace grew hotter, - and presently each rider was enveloped in a cloud of dust, and we could - only see the energetic frantic forms through a maze of sand. It reached us - and set us coughing. The riders seemed almost to lift the ponies by the - grip of the knees and the balance seemed perfect, and the greatest - surprise was that something other than the ground was not jabbed by the - flying spears. Some good throwers could attain a distance of about seventy - to eighty yards. - </p> - <p> - They all careered about like possessed creatures in a turmoil of tossed up - sand and wild excitement, when, at a signal may be, but I saw none, back - the whole lot raced, straight like an arrow from a bow, so swiftly, I - thought we should be ridden over. But of course we had to sit tight, and - pretend we were not in fear and trembling about the issue of so furious a - charge. The poor ponies were reined in at our very feet so jerkily and - cruelly that the blood started from the overstrained corners of their - mouths. Then crowding around us, jostling and pushing each other, the - animals gasped and panted their hearts out. I longed to take the whole lot - to the wells to drink but of course we had to go through the ceremonial - properly. The dibaltig is a Somali way of doing honour or paying - allegiance, and is only performed at the election of a Sultan, or for the - offering of deference due to an English traveller. - </p> - <p> - With spears held aloft the Somalis united in the strident familiar “Mot! - Mot! Mot! io Mot!” (Hail! Hail! Hail! again Hail!)—to which, as a - safe remark, I replied “Mot!” The wrong thing, of course, and Clarence, - who stood just behind, whispered I was to say “Thank you,” which I did in - Somali, very badly. - </p> - <p> - Then we invited our circus party to a meal, and I said if they could - produce a couple of sheep from somewhere I would pay for the banquet. We - got through all right, but the whole of the day was taken up with the - princely entertainment. The sheep duly arrived, and the entire camp helped - to roast them, when with bowls of rice and <i>ghee</i> as a top up, every - one made merry at our expense. We bestowed a few presents also, of which - the most successful was a <i>tusba</i>, wooden beads to be counted in - prayer saying. I was sorry we had not provided ourselves with more of - these to give away, as they seemed so intensely popular. Cecily gave one - Berserk a piece of gay red ribbon, and he seemed very much delighted. They - do not care for things of which no use can be made, as they are not a - silly nation. Red scarves and ribbon can always be used up effectively for - the ponies’ trappings on dibaltig and other great occasions. - </p> - <p> - We managed to effect an exchange here. I wanted a couple of the native - dyed blue and red <i>khaili</i> tobes to take home as souvenirs, so - Clarence managed it for us by handing over two new white ones, a turban, - and a couple of iron tent pegs. These last were great treasures, as they - can be fashioned into spear heads. The throwing spear is a cruel barbed - affair, but some are plain. Accurately pitched it is a deadly weapon, and - the Somali as he throws gives the spear a smart knock on the palm of his - hand, which conveys an odd trembling that keeps the shaft straight as it - flies through the air. The spear blades take different shapes in the - different tribes, but shields seem to be of uniform pattern—of oryx, - rhino, or other leather, made with a handle at the back. - </p> - <p> - We did a short march in the evening and were spared the trouble of - building a zareba, and like cuckoos, took up a place in a nest of some - one’s making. It had been evacuated long enough to be fairly clean, and - did us well with a little patching. Ant-hills around us were so numerous - we seemed in the centre of some human settlement. That night a leopard - entered our zareba and, regardless of the fires and the watch, clawed one - of the ponies badly, being only driven off by having a rifle fired at him. - Even at such close quarters the bullet found no billet, as there was no - sign of the blood trail. We could clearly see the spot where our visitor - entered; the thorn was lower and weaker there. We decided to remain over - the next night and try and catch him. I gave orders for somebody to ride - back towards the camp of our dibaltig friends and, if possible, buy a goat - for tying up. Meanwhile, Cecily and I went out on a sort of prospecting - excursion. We actually came on some water oozing up through a rock, not - standing or sluggish. So we sent a man back to camp to tell the head camel - man to have out all his animals and water them whether they wanted it or - not. - </p> - <p> - We struck a well-defined caravan route, probably the road to Wardare over - the Marehan. We arrived by a more direct line from Galadi. Game is always - scarcer on frequented ways, so we turned off into the wilderness. - </p> - <p> - A rocky nullah lay to our left, and we caught a glimpse of a fine hyæna - looking over the country. He stood on the summit of a pile of whitish - rock, clearly outlined, and as he winded us, or caught a glimpse of the - leading figures, he was off his pinnacle with a mighty bound and away into - the adad bushes behind him. A little farther we came on fresh lion spoor, - and followed it up only to overrun it. The ground here was for the most - part so stony and baked up it was impossible to track at all. We held on, - searching in circles and then pursuing the line we thought most likely. We - were more than rewarded. Under a shady guda tree lay a vast lioness with - year-old cub. Our men ran in different directions to cut off the retreat, - but we called to them to come back. We had quite enough skins without - trying to deplete the country of a lioness at this stage of the - expedition, especially as the cub was small, and not yet thoroughly able - to fight his own battles. She would have to wage war for herself and him. - I dislike all wholesale slaughter; it ruins any sporting ground. - </p> - <p> - Interested, we watched the two cats cantering off, shoulder to shoulder, - far out into the open country beyond our ken. Our men whispered among - themselves. We were out with the second hunter, as Clarence was occupied - in camp. They were puzzled evidently. As a result of a long course of - noticing that to many white shikaris a lion is a lion, and has no sex or - age, it seemed to the native mind a remarkably odd circumstance that we - made no effort at all to bag two specimens at one fell swoop. I never had - any scruples about killing hyenas. They are not to be classed as among the - more valuable fauna, being so numerous and productive, and such low-down - sneaking creatures, doing such harm among the herds and <i>karias</i>, - carrying off the children so frequently, and always maltreating the face, - as if with some evil design, voraciously tearing it before it commences on - any other part. - </p> - <p> - We entered a little forest of khansa and adad, sombre and dark. But in the - great tunnellings it was possible to see ahead for a fair distance. We - were just examining a bit of gum-arabic with faint tracery on it when a - hunter pulled my sleeve. There, a great way off, going with the wind, - moving with a rolling gait, was a lion; head carried low as is their wont, - and going along at a smart pace. Signing to the syce to stand there with - the ponies, Cecily and I rushed down the path the lion had taken. But we - never sighted him again. The jungle grew thicker, and it was getting late, - so we were forced to abandon the stalk, returning to our distant camp - after a blank day. - </p> - <p> - The goat had been procured, and after supper we had it tied in between the - fences of the zareba. Our stolen homestead being of native make, I had a - great loop-hole made for me in the inner circle and remained inside our - main camp, You have to do this miserable form of sport to bag leopards, - because they are too cunning as a rule to appear in the day-time, and - rarely walk about in the open way lions will. There is nothing magnificent - about the character of a leopard. He is a mere cunning thief. - </p> - <p> - A rush, and the leopard was on his prey, his side towards me, his tail - slowly lashing from left to right with pleasure as he drank the warm - blood. I carefully sighted. It was not a dark night, and I simply couldn’t - miss. Bang! Then the second barrel. The whole caravan turned out, and - buzzed like disturbed bees, one or two wakeful spirits singing the chant - they keep for the occasion of the killing of some dangerous beast. I had - the leopard kept as he was until morning, when I examined him to find he - was of the Marehan variety, or hunting leopard, quite different to his - first cousin <i>Felis pardus</i>. His head was smaller, and much more - cunning looking, and he was distinguished from the panther by - non-retractile claws. He was fawn in colour, and his teeth were old and - much worn. - </p> - <p> - It took two men now pretty well all their time to see after the trophies, - and bar the way they went on with anything to do with wart-hog, they - really were most assiduous and careful. At first the men actually routed - us out every time the loading-up commenced in order that we should put - bits of pig on to the pack camels! We struck. It was going a little too - far. We made a huge fuss, and some one, probably the cook, who seemed a - more casual person than most, attended to this little matter from that - time onwards, and things went quite smoothly. I am sure these scruples - about pigs are very largely labour-saving dodges. - </p> - <p> - Next morning as we marched we came on a half-eaten lesser koodoo, - surrounded by a lot of kites, vultures, and white carrion storks, tall, - imposing-looking birds. We shot one to cure as a specimen, damaging it - rather. It had a horrid smell, but was very handsome. One of the hunters - skinned it at our next camp. - </p> - <p> - The American who was out with Clarence on his last big shikar seemed to - have been outrageously free and easy in his dealings with the men. In - fact, in one or two trifling ways such habits as we heard of had rather - been to Clarence’s detriment. A very little encouragement breeds too great - familiarity in any native of narrow mind. I do not mean to infer that - Clarence presumed, or that his judgment was ever at fault in his dealings - with us, merely that I was annoyed to hear some of his stories relating to - the terms on which the men of the camp were on with the free and - open-hearted Yankee. One would think that an American, with the nigger - problem ever before him, would be more stand-offish than most people. May - be he considered himself on a real holiday, and let his national - socialistic tendencies run riot. This is not “writ sarcastic,” for I’m a - Socialist myself, and if I were a professional politician I should be a - Socialist of a kind that very soon, in our time, will be the usual type - all over the world. At present, the Socialists, by going too far, by - plucking the fruit ere it is ripe, have brought ridicule on themselves and - their cause, and by associating themselves with nihilists, anarchists, and - destructionists generally, have alienated the sympathy of all moderate, - gradual, and practical reformers. The days for revolutions have gone by, - and the reforms urgently required by almost every European nation can take - place without the painting red of the great cities. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0251.jpg" alt="0251 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0251.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - Gracious! I am digressing! And talking like a suffragette! This is - supposed to be a book on sport—mostly. Other things will creep in, - and come crowding to my pen, crying, “Put me down! Put me down!” But—a - big But: did you ever know a woman stick to the point? - </p> - <p> - Everywhere we came on ancient elephant tracks, but I think it would have - been difficult to find any sort of a specimen. We heard of none having - been seen for years, yet it has always been understood that at no distant - time this part of the Haweea was a resort for herds of the great - pachyderms. - </p> - <p> - We were now not more than a week’s trek of the east coast line. Wonderful! - Or we thought it so who had marched from Berbera. At our next halt we came - on a lake, a real lake, a delightful spot, quite a good-sized sheet of - water, 125 yards or so across, and formed in a basin of gypsum-like rock. - We had not seen so much water <i>en masse</i> since leaving the sea, and - were so overjoyed and charmed with it that we ordered the tents to be - placed on the verge, so that the ripples lapped up to our very feet. It - was quite sea-side, or perhaps, more than anything, reminiscent of a park - at home, for all varieties of birds floated on the surface and waded on - the edge. When I threw broken biscuit to them they paddled to me in their - dozens, flying over each other in the hurry to be first. - </p> - <p> - Of course, a swim was what appealed most to us. To be wet all over at one - time instead of furtive dabs with a damp sponge seemed the acme of - desirability. It seemed difficult of accomplishment. I don’t care for - mixed bathing at home—if the usual percentage of some twenty women - to three men can be called “mixed”—and then there was the - awkwardness about kit. Cecily suggested, in evil moment, cutting up the <i>khaili</i> - tobes. And we did, fashioning them into bathing-suits during the hot hours - of the afternoon, when we should have been using them. The result might - not have passed at Ostend; they were a <i>succès fou</i> at Sinna-dogho. - On giving orders that the lake was to be reserved for us at five o’clock—the - men, who were good swimmers, having been dashing in and out all day—the - whole camp lined up to see the Mem-sahibs in a new phase. It <i>was</i> - funny. We had made the tunics sleeveless, and from the wrist up our skin - was as white as white could be, but from the wrist down we were Somali - colour to our fingertips. - </p> - <p> - We ran in out of our tents, and words cannot tell how glorious that swim - was. We dived, we raced, we floated, we dabbled, until at last we knew we - must get out, for the water was quite cold. It was altogether a rarity in - Somaliland. The result will seem absurd, I know. Those wretched <i>khaili</i> - tobes! The dye came straight out of them when wet, and on to us-We found - ourselves converted into woaded Britons! It was quite a catastrophe, if - ridiculous, and bothered us considerably, and at night, very late, when it - was quite dark, we went across to the other side of’ the lake and had a - real good scrub with any amount of water to draw on. Coming back, - something started up so close to me, I felt it brush my hand—something - furry. A wild dog, I imagine, for we saw many next day. - </p> - <p> - It was an absolute joy to breakfast by the cool rippling waters, and we - could hardly bear to leave it to strike on to Joh, so remained all day, - and then, in the late afternoon, regretfully said “good-bye.” After a - short march we came on another small lake, not a patch on Sinnadogho, but - we liked it because it was wet. The country now was of the most rolling - description, intensely stony, with small rounded hills like Atlantic - billows, and in between good grass and grazing for many camels. On the top - of each rise there was thorn jungle, thick or sparse, and stunted-looking - guda trees. It was a most peculiar tract, holding on like this for some - way. We came on herds of camels and goats grazing, this time in charge of - men, and no <i>karia</i> seemed visible for miles. We procured some - camel’s milk for the men, as it is such a treat to them. We ourselves, - however, liked it no better than before. - </p> - <p> - A Somali shepherd wished to tack on to us here, deserting his charge, and - as he seemed so very keen about it, and Clarence said he could do with - another man, we assented. It is the dream with some of these jungle people - to taste the sweets of civilisation, make money, and then return to his - tribe, acquiring many camels and wealth of goats and sheep, and it is very - strange that in no time he becomes a jungly person again, casting off the - trammels of civilisation with ease after having lived perhaps for two or - three years in the service of a white man. A very good thing it is so too. - For the savage who lives in the wild is far more to be admired, and is - altogether a more estimable creature than the savage who drives you about - Aden, or hauls your boxes about at Berbera. Like many other wanderers, he - learns the white man’s follies and faults and none of his better - attributes. - </p> - <p> - And so it comes about, once in a while, you enter a <i>karia</i>, with - every evidence of native domesticity about it, and are greeted by the - village head-man without the usual “Nabad,” or “Salaam aleikum,” and in - great amaze, you hear an English salutation. - </p> - <p> - We camped for the night at a place of deep stone wells. If game seemed - scarce, water was plentiful. Next day we came on a Somali encampment where - lions were provided against and so must occasionally come to call. All - manner of scare-lions were set about the zareba, torn herios arranged - flag-like on broken spears, and an ingenious scheme for making a - scratching noise in a wind amused us very much. It was a rough piece of - iron, strung on a bit of leather rope, and its duty was to scrape against - a flint set in a contrivance of wood. Poor protections against so fierce a - foe as a lion! This tribe seemed none too friendly, and we put a couple of - miles between us ere we camped. - </p> - <p> - We sighted a dibatag buck, shy as a hawk. This was a part of the country - destitute of game apparently. Only the useful dik-dik abode with us to - fill the pot. - </p> - <p> - To Joh next day. There was nothing to tell us it was Joh, any more than - Bob or Tom. The only reason it had for being specified as a place at all - was that it had a very superior well with running water. Even that did not - please half the caravan, for we saw them, in preference, choose a dirty - mud-hole and drink from it. We did a big day’s excursion into the jungle, - trying to come on spoor of any animal where spoor was not. As a resort for - game this part of Somaliland seems unpopular. I cannot think why. Were I a - lion, far rather would I haunt the shores of the lake at Sinna-dogho than - grill on the sands of the Ogaden. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XV—ANOTHER GAP IN OUR RANKS - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - Give thy thoughts no tongue - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Hamlet - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Measure for Measure - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he poor pony which - the leopard had pounced upon was now in grievous plight, hardly able to - drag itself along, and the condition of his wounds, though we had done all - we could, can better be imagined than described. I judged it kindest to - read the death warrant, and the unfortunate creature was led away from - camp, going very painfully, to be shot. His knell rang out as we were - dressing, and rather spoilt our breakfast. We had grown by this time to be - quite fond of all the ponies; even “Sceptre” counted as a friend of - standing. - </p> - <p> - Leaving Joh about 8.30, we passed the spot where the men had buried our - steed, not deeply, I fear, and as the caravan came up a great horde of - yellowish animals ceased their depredations and made off. Cecily, who was - walking, dropped one, I am glad to say, and the others loped away at - break-neck speed. It was a fine vicious-looking animal, the sort of - creature you would not care to meet if it happened to be hungry, and we - afterwards knew it to be a Cape hunting-dog. - </p> - <p> - There were dabs of black and white here and there on its thick - khaki-coloured coat, and the tail was immense, and white tipped. Each foot - had but four toes, with much-worn claws. We delayed progress for a little - while for the skin to be secured. Meanwhile, we rode off a short distance - and sighted some gerenük, far out of range, and dik-dik in multitudes - popped up. - </p> - <p> - We got into some thick thorn cover, too dense for the ponies’ comfort, - after a short ten minutes, and turning, on another path, we startled some - large animal which crashed off in front of us. We separated, dashing - different ways, to try and cut whatever it was off, and saw a reddish - antelope careering away across a small open expanse. It was a gerenük, - hornless; a doe, of course—I say “of course,” because our luck, or - rather the lack of it, in this part of the world, was most depressing. To - have endured that Marehan Desert for such “sport” as this! We kicked - ourselves, figuratively speaking, every day. - </p> - <p> - Our next halt at a place garnished with a name was El Dara. “El” in Somali - parlance means “well,” so anything “El” signifies water ought to be in the - vicinity. Very often it isn’t. But it ought to be—like a good many - other things. - </p> - <p> - I don’t see how any one could master the Somali language thoroughly—any - foreigner, I mean. There are no books to be got about it, because the - language has not as yet been reduced or elevated by pen and ink. Reading - anything seems an intense puzzle to the native mind, and to be able to do - it raises one miles in their estimation! Only the scholars can read the - Koran in Arabic. It would not be to the advantage of the mullahs if any - one and every one could accomplish this feat. Not one of our men could - even write, much less read. - </p> - <p> - I had taken a couple of favourite books along with me, as every traveller - must who will be away from libraries and would yet change literary diet. - In my moments of leisure for reading I accompanied Elizabeth in Rugen, or - wandered with her through that solitary summer. She was very good to me, - but she bored Clarence almost to tears. I read him a little one afternoon - in response to his demands to know what the book was all about, and after - a short while, thinking he was very quiet, I looked up; the vandal slept! - </p> - <p> - Sunday again. - </p> - <p> - After the great heat of the early hours of the afternoon we made another - start, heading straight now for the return journey over the Marehan. - Cecily bagged a couple of dik-dik out of a bunch of three. All those - hereabouts did not find the two-is-company axiom worth considering, and - ran about everywhere in threes. We secured two guinea fowl, too, for - future meals. They were decidedly gamey by night; the heat was so against - keeping any sort of meat. I very often thought this unceasing pondering on - what could be provided for the next feast made for dreadful greediness. - When we pitched tents Clarence reported that one of the camel men very - sick. “Him die all right.” I was not very much put about, because by this - I had learned the Somali ways, and knew that every one of them considers - himself at the portals of death’s door if he has merely a pain somewhere. - They cannot be called cowards by any means, and will bear pain well enough - when it comes, but in minor illnesses they cave in sooner than any other - nation I have come across, and get so terribly alarmed about themselves. - Theirs is not the stoicism of the American Indian, in matters large and - small, the delightful <i>sangfroid</i> of the Chinaman is absent, and the - calm of the Englishman unknown. We had really, up to now, been singularly - fortunate in the health of the caravan, and most of the minor ills from - which the men had suffered could fairly have been ascribed to gorging. - This gluttony over meat occasionally landed them into double-distilled - bilious attacks. - </p> - <p> - I was in a frightful tantrum with some one—of course nobody would - own to being the delinquent—who had dropped, or somehow made away - with, the very best oryx shield we had. Going over the trophies, which we - knew individually, I missed the treasure. The immortal one counselled - “Give thy thoughts no tongue.” But, after all, he was giving directions to - a young man just about to go out into the world, and had not dreamed of - the conditions that would govern the loss of an oryx shield most hardly - come by. I gave all the thoughts I had by me vehement voice, and, more - than that, I borrowed a few from Cecily. - </p> - <p> - We had camped where there had once been a lake as large as at Sinnadogho. - It was now a mere hole, and all the one-time springs were dry. Some Midgan - hunters here gave us news of having seen a lion an hour or so ago. No - wonder they reported such a find. - </p> - <p> - Lions and all other game seemed about to follow the dodo in these parts. - We were so thoroughly disgusted now that all our object was to push back - to our old haunts in the Ogaden, and enjoy ourselves for the short time - left to us in the country. I am not wilfully rubbing it in about this - Marehan and Haweea locality, because I myself hate bewailing as much as - any one. But, to let you in on the ground floor, all this part of the - expedition was hateful, and our one desire was to get it over. No wonder - our shikari uncle, wise in his generation, had never passed the Bun - Arnwein. We intended to lie low about our having done so also. - </p> - <p> - After our temper had dwindled a little; we went to see the sick man, armed - with a few medicines, and our vexation merged into forgetfulness, and then - to pity. The poor fellow lay on a camel mat, his dirty tobe tangled about - him, in acute pain, and often in delirium. It could not be a touch of the - sun very well, for Somalis and the sun are well acquainted. Cecily - suggested that dirty water of a short time ago as the root of the evil, - but here again, had we not seen the men drinking quite as filthy water, - and thriving the better for it. We really were stuck to know what to do, - and fled to our everlasting remedy, champagne. It was difficult to get any - down, and the little we managed to dispose of made no earthly difference - to the writhing man. Cecily tried catapultic questions in a Somali accent - that came from her inner consciousness. - </p> - <p> - “Wurrer anoncsha” (head-ache)? - </p> - <p> - “Aloche anonesha” (stomach-ache)? - </p> - <p> - There was no reply, and Cecily had expended all the lingo she knew. - </p> - <p> - The man went on suffering all night, and we did all we could, putting - mustard leaves on his side and keeping him warm, for the nights here were - bitterly cold. Ever and again we tried to force champagne between his set - teeth. Of no avail. He died about five o’clock in the morning. Clarence - said it was Kismet, but I think, and always shall, it was a newt. Anyway, - it was something swallowed in that filthy water, too much even for the - inner mechanism of a Somali. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0263.jpg" alt="0263 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0263.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - Cecily and I retired to get some sleep if possible, and the men buried - their unfortunate comrade. We did not attend, as it is always so intensely - piteous a ceremony—a burial without a coffin—at least to me it - seems far worse than seeing a coffin put into the earth. I gave Clarence a - blanket to wrap our follower in. He seemed amused, and certainly did not - use it, for I saw him lapped in it a night or so later. I rebuked him, but - he said it was a different blanket. All men are liars, and though an - estimable servant, our head-man was no exception to the rule. - </p> - <p> - We investigated to see that the funeral had been conducted properly, and - ordered more stones and brushwood to be piled on top, such a rampart - indeed that Clarence said we were giving our dead friend the grave of a - chief. Then, in the late afternoon we marched away, leaving the lonely - stockade behind us. Every man of the caravan threw some grass upon the - grave and, touching their ears, prayed to Allah. - </p> - <p> - Cecily and I could not help feeling very sorry, but in half an hour the - men had all forgotten, and marched chanting a droning song. The camels - that had been the charge of the dead man now were controlled by a lively - little fellow, and the whole incident seemed of no moment. - </p> - <p> - Any amount of wild geese abode here. It was rather like keeping a vast - poultry farm. The birds were so ridiculously tame and easily caught. At - our next trek we should have to consider the return journey across the - Marehan as begun, and we should not be likely to make any water for five - or six days. Everything was carefully filled up, and the march commenced - at 3.30 a.m. The net result of this Marehan excursion was one leopard and - one wild dog, which we would just as soon have been without as with. They - may be hard to shoot, and come on—I have heard so—but take it - how you like, with everything said that can be to belaud them into - valuable treasures, dogs aren’t very grand trophies when all is done. Who - values a coyote in Canada? - </p> - <p> - We passed thousands of grazing camels. The men in charge weren’t bothering - about water at all, but drank milk only. I arranged with Clarence that our - men were to go on to rations of dates, and do without rice for the trip - over the waterless desert. Rice in such quantities sucks up such an amount - of water, and it was safer to keep it for drinking purposes merely. The - dates are very nutritious, and natives often live on nothing else for - days. - </p> - <p> - We camped about eleven o’clock, when the sun grew too fierce to let us - proceed. We did a few more miles in the evening. Every hour we were not on - trek we spent in exhausted sleep. Even as we marched I was often in a - condition of somnolence that prevented my guiding the pony in the least. - </p> - <p> - We passed a fine range of mountains, said to be alive with leopards. We - saw the tracks of several, but time did not permit of a stalk. However, - one came to stalk us, very thoughtfully, and saved us a lot of trouble. We - made the round of the camp that night very late before turning in to see - that all was extra safe. The camels were lying in rows, some with heads - outstretched flat, snake-like, on the sand, asleep, others chewing the - cud, watching us lazily with keen bright eyes threading our way among the - <i>débris</i> of the stores. Our candle lamps were hardly needed here, the - bright fires lighted us to bed, and we had but just settled down when the - most prodigious shouting and banging of tin pans together roused us up - again. Then two shots reverberated on the night. By the time I was - sufficiently clad to emerge with propriety the camp was more or less calm - again, save for a few men jabbering in excited groups. The ponies stood in - a bunch, and one or two of the camels had risen. A leopard had jumped the - zareba, but was immediately turned by having a piece of lighted brushwood - thrust in his face. One of the hunters had fired after the retreating - animal, and claimed to have hit it. As no man of the black persuasion - cares to go outside a zareba at night, all investigations had to be put - off until day-break, when, without waiting for breakfast, we hurried out - to see what we should see. - </p> - <p> - The hunter was right. The blood trail was plain, and held on at intervals - for a mile or more, when it led us to a flimsy bit of thorn growing in - some rocky cover. Stones and shouts did not serve to eject our visitor of - the night before, but we heard his singing snarls. Posting ourselves some - hundred yards away, for a wounded leopard is not likely to prove an - amiable customer, Clarence made some fire alongside us with another hunter - by twirling the fire stick. And as soon as the flame burst from the timber - he fostered it with a little durr grass, then using it to ignite a larger - torch, ran towards the citadel and threw the blazing thing into the midst. - Speedily the flames took hold, burning all before it. - </p> - <p> - “Shebel! Shebel!” - </p> - <p> - The leopard stole out from the side of the underbrush, with low crouched - shoulders, and made for the open. It limped badly, and lurched as it ran. - I wanted to clear the hunters who were dancing about right in the very - zone of fire—a lot of good shots are spoiled in this way—so - dashed after our prey. Cecily ran round the back of the burning bush, and - as she was nearer, the leopard hearing the quick pad-pad after him turned, - as a cat does when cornered. With ears flattened against the head and a - look of most vicious rage on the snarling face the leopard shot, all - wounded as he was, straight at us like an arrow from a bow. He was a most - courageous animal, but my cousin dropped him with a well-planted bullet, - catching him in the chest. The creature doubled up like a caterpillar, - undid itself, gave one or two twists, doubled up again, and finally - dropped very near to us. - </p> - <p> - We were anxious to get the trophy back to camp for the better convenience - of skinning it, as we were already late in starting the morning’s march, - but our pony would have none of it, and at the suggestion of burdening his - usually willing little back with the catlike carcase, gave us to - understand that whatever else he might carry at any time it would never be - leopard. We had to give up the attempt at last, and two hunters stayed - behind to skin and decapitate the prize, coming in to camp about two hours - after us. This particular leopard differed slightly from the one obtained - in the Haweea, but, like all of the leopard tribe, it doubtless differed - in skin and colouring by reason of the part of the world where it lived - and had its being. The chin was almost white, and it was lighter in - colouring all over. We neglected to measure it when pegged out for drying, - but, dressed, it touched just six feet from tip to tail. The bullet of the - night before had passed through the forearm, and I think it would have got - over its effects in time nicely. - </p> - <p> - Nothing more of any moment occurred on the great hurried march. We walked, - and slept, and rode and ate, and ate, and rode, and slept, and walked. The - history of those strenuous six days is summed up in these words. We - managed very well this time about the water, though we ran things very - fine at the last, landing at wells with but a quart in hand. - </p> - <p> - The last afternoon was rendered hideous by a plague of locusts, and their - millions darkened all the sky, like the big black crow in Alice’s - Adventures through the Looking-glass, taking an hour or more to pass. Some - didn’t pass at all, but settled in countless thousands on an area of red - sand, that they changed to rainbow colours. Closely looked at, they are - the ordinary familiar locust of many countries, in shades of green, - yellow, with red spots. Cecily, who would, I believe, curry anything, said - they ought to taste like prawns. The insects quite forgot their plain duty—and - didn’t. They tasted like—well, like themselves! The shell of the - back was as hard as nails, and I’m sure they were meant to be anything but - curried. - </p> - <p> - At last, towards 6.30, as the light was not so good, we found ourselves on - a plain again covered with splendid trees, and we knew we had left the - dreary waste of forsaken desert behind us. Turning joyfully in my saddle I - waved my hand, crying <i>Au revoir</i>. - </p> - <p> - “It’s good-bye as far as I’m concerned,” said Cecily stolidly. - </p> - <p> - We came to a place of many deep wells, and the men went down forthwith and - began watering the animals. A few busied themselves cutting the thorn for - the zareba, whilst two more erected our tents. The camels commenced to - graze as each one was satisfied by a drink. - </p> - <p> - We rested under a thorn tree until, in awful moment, we realised it was - already in the possession of a most horrible-looking creature, a hateful - monster who eyed us from his branch above us. We vacated our seats <i>instanter</i>, - but returned carefully to investigate. ’Twas a hideous monstrosity - indeed, alligator-like, with yellow claws. In length about a foot, with - tail of twice as much, yellow gray, with whitish markings, and appeared to - have no interest in us or animosity towards us. We knew it was of the - lizard fraternity, and afterwards natural history revealed it to us as a - Monitor. He disturbed my slumbers all that night. I could not get the - hideous thing out of my dreams, and my fancy peopled the tent with - creatures of his kind, and every place on which I would set my foot was - covered with monitors. Next morning our friend was still on his perch, and - we saw a smaller brother on another tree. Common chameleons frequented - this part also. They lay thickly on the branches of the guda trees, - brown-green, and almost unnoticeable. - </p> - <p> - That evening, as the light was fading, I shot a marabou stork, not often - to be met with in these parts. It was indeed a prize, and we spent hours - of semidarkness, in a dim religious light, skinning our treasure. It - sounds so easy—it seems nothing—but try your hand on a common - or garden hen, and see if the business is as simple as you think? We poked - and pushed, and, I’m afraid, tore a little, but in the end were - successful, and stretched the result to dry. The splendid colour of the - pouch of this marabou, which was so much admired by us, faded after - skinning, and was gone. The feathers, so reminiscent of civilisation, and - beloved of suburban fan proprietors, were very fine and fluffy. We - measured the beak of our trophy, and it came out at a shade over eleven - inches, and the extended wings topped eight and a half feet. - </p> - <p> - We were now on the march through a waterless tract again, but game was - once more plentiful, and the men dined royally every day. We not so - magnificently, as a whole boxful of our provisions had mysteriously - disappeared; the camel man in charge said lost, but looted or sold really. - I kicked up a frightful fuss, but of course that did not bring back the - missing necessaries. The loss of the box meant much carefulness to us, as - it would certainly be five weeks or more before we touched Berbera, a - consummation not wished for at all, and even the idea was a vast regret to - us. To think that in a short space of time we should be in touch with the - world again, that the wild would call, and we, all an ache of desperate - longing, could not reply! There would be nothing to compensate us for the - loss of the joys of the jungle, no music like unto the lion’s roar. We - should listen in vain for the whining bark of the koodoo, and the weird - calls of the wrangling hyænas prowling around our zareba o’ nights would - echo only in memory. To us these things were the heart of happiness, and - to dream of leaving them was pain. - </p> - <p> - Ah me! Well, “fill the cup.” - </p> - <p> - Cecily bagged an oryx near Well-Wall, a fine female, ever the best fitted - out in the horn line among this species. It is strange this should be so, - when the bulls are so pugnacious. The horns of this trophy were in perfect - condition, and measured thirty-two inches. The bird life around us charmed - us exceedingly. I think our admiration for the small birds puzzled - Clarence very much. He made nothing of them. All the hunters were - singularly ignorant on the subject, and could tell us nothing, not even - the names of quite well-known finches. All the exquisite little things - were tame as tame could be, willingly picking up crumbs as we scattered - them in the very tent. The most wondrously coated starlings wandered about - in their inquisitive habit, and made many moments of amusement for us with - their quarrels and peacocking ways. - </p> - <p> - At Well-Wall we got some water, and camped for the night. There were many - stray nomadic Somalis, hunters mostly, at the water, some Midgans, almost - in “the altogether.” They were a scraggy, miserable-looking lot, with whom - our men got to loggerheads in “the wee sma’ hours,” and, quarrelling most - of the night, made the place hideous with their din, all carried on, as it - was, on a top note. I went out once to try and silence them all, and - Cecily had a go at it also, but nothing would stop the incessant jangle of - their voices. We simply lay down, said things, and wished for day. - </p> - <p> - When the dawn broke in gray shadows we insisted on striking camp at once, - breakfasting after a short trek. The outcaste Somalis followed us for a - long way, begging for tobes. It seemed cruel to refuse them, but we hadn’t - enough to go round even if we handed over our remaining stock, and really - to give one tobe, or even two or three, to such a needy band would be - about as much use as to present one brace of grouse to a hospital. At last - we outdistanced our following, and were able to negotiate breakfast. How I - loved the breakfasts “out there” in the open, a permanent, everlasting - picnic. Many insects came to breakfast too, but then, what would you? Were - they not all part and parcel of this world of happiness? - </p> - <p> - We went on, and everywhere was beautiful now in green splendour; the - jungle had dressed itself anew in robes of emerald. How exquisite the - colours, how drowsy all the air! Great golden cobwebs hung from thorn to - thorn, the early sun scintillating on the myriad dewdrops clinging to the - fragile web. Ants here lived in larger palaces than ever. - </p> - <p> - The only available track lay through jungle as dense as could be - negotiated by any caravan. Progress was very slow, and sometimes very - annoying. Camels refused to move through gaps, necessitating unloading and - reloading, all the time bothered by the grabbing wait-a-bit thorn. My pony - put his foot into a hole of sorts unexpectedly, and I came a terrific - purler bang into a bunch of thorn. I daresay it was a blessing in disguise - and saved me a bad shaking, but I was grievously pricked and scratched. - Besides, it really is a very humiliating feeling to be retrieved from a - thorn bush by a mere camel man. I felt disgraced for ever as an <i>equestrienne</i>. - It was a “come off” so disgracefully simple. - </p> - <p> - At intervals, when the bush lightened a little, we came on spoor of lion - and rhino. The latter again whetted Cecily’s desire to come on another of - these creatures and give battle. I agreed we would track the spoor if she - really wished it, but after a hard five miles of really impossible going - at right angles from our main camp we quitted the chase for that day - arranging to get up with the sun and make a real day of it after rhino. I - admit I did all I knew to stifle these sporting longings. It seemed - cowardly of me to say “Go alone, if go you must.” But I longed to say it. - I could never forget the apparition of that rhino going for the Baron, and—I’ll - whisper it if you’ll come nearer—where a rhinoceros is concerned I - am a contemptible coward. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVI—CECILY SHOOTS A RHINOCEROS - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - The day shall not be up so soon as I, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - To try the fair adventure of the morn - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - King John - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - We are blessed in this man, as I may say, even blessed - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Winter’s Tale - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he sun shall not - be up so soon as I. Indeed, I had a whole half-hour’s start of him, while - I put my house in order. I prepared in my own way for the fair adventure - of the morn, and told Cecily where to look for my will. She was in wild - spirits, and chaffed me no end. She saw to her armoury, and asked me over - and over to eat more. But I said I felt exactly like a man about to be - hanged, of whom you read in the next day’s papers: “The prisoner made a - most excellent breakfast.” - </p> - <p> - Out we started, Clarence, the Somali who joined our forces at the spot - where the camels tried a course of mud baths, four hunters, and two syces. - We followed the old spoor for miles, but it was at last apparent that the - pachyderm we were after had by this time travelled far out of our ken. We - sat down to cogitate, and the hunters went off spooring on a detour of - their own. - </p> - <p> - In the thick jungle we disturbed a few baby ostriches. I could not count - how many, because they scattered right and left, thrown into panic by the - shameless desertion of the little brood by their father, who making a - direct bid for his own safety, took a beeline out of our radius. I - cornered one little fluffy yellow and black bird, and could have caught - him had I wished. He was about twelve inches high, very important looking, - and his bright black boot-button eyes gazed at me unblinkingly. Stout - little yellow legs supported the tubby quaint body, and then I let him - pass to gain solitude and his brothers. We did not war with ostrich - babies. I had rather a contempt for that cock bird. Imagine leaving his - children like that! And yet, considered in the abstract, an ostrich of all - other denizens of the wild world stands for respectability and staunchness - of purpose. He pairs for life. None of your gad-about ideas for him. One - life, one love, is the ostrich motto, and if he finds the “Ever and ever, - Amen” variety of domesticity spells satiety almost invariably, well, he is - no different from other two-footed creatures we know. Nature is the same - wherever or however we find it. - </p> - <p> - The ostrich does not <i>look</i> a happy bird. His sad pathetic face makes - one think something in this “sorry scheme of things entire” does not - altogether satisfy. What the ostrich really needs is a matrimonial system - whereby these birds might take each other on the lease principle, as we do - houses, with the option of renewal. Things would brighten up for them, I - am sure, considerably. I don’t know how we can arrange it, or even put the - suggestion to them. Perhaps some intensely knowing person could arrange - this, the editor of the halfpenny patron of patriotism, for instance. He - understands everything. The suggested lease system would add considerable - zest to life in the ostrich world, as indeed it would in many others. Just - before the lease fell in Madame Ostrich would assure her husband that the - very last idea she had would be its renewal. For all masculinity wants is - that, and that only, which is denied him. Mr. Ostrich would feel that the - renewal of the lease was the be-all of everything, and the fattest slugs, - the best bit of ground for finding tit-bits upon, and the least prickly - walks in the jungle would all be offered as persuasive arguments. The - general pleasantness would last them both for weeks. - </p> - <p> - A hunter reported he had come on a maze of rhino tracks. Allowing for the - usual exaggeration, we judged one rhinoceros might be get-at-able. On - investigation, we found that one had passed through the thickish country, - and that very recently. Joy!—for Cecily! Hastily we left our ponies - in charge of the syces, detailed two other hunters to remain also, and - with the remaining followers prepared to stalk. Often the spoor was lost - for a hundred yards or so, but our very able shikaris never failed to pick - it up again, and though the going was exceedingly heavy, we made fair - progress. We saw numerous oryx and dibitag, one of the latter passing so - near me that I exchanged glances with her at twenty-five yards. But, of - course, “the likes of them” were safe from us now. - </p> - <p> - We sped across an open bit, and then into another belt of jungle. The - whole aspect of the spot looked to me as the very place to see a - repetition of the Baron disaster. We plunged into the ubiquitous thorn, - starting a frightened dik-dik as I took my header. Crawling, pushing, - scratching, we won our way to comparatively clear ground. Clarence raised - his hand for utter silence. We heard a scrunching and breaking of thorns. - A great beast was a-travelling. Maybe he had winded us or been disturbed. - And then “a strange thing happened.” I, who had been absolutely impassive - up to now, was drawn into the mesh of desire. The effects of rhino - shooting on me is like unto the results of champagne drinking on - Brillat-Savarin, at first (<i>ab initio</i>) most exciting, afterward (<i>in - rccessu</i>) stupefying. I was now thoroughly game for anything. But kept - my reason in sufficient bounds to remember that thick thorn cover is not - an ideal place to meet a rhino in. - </p> - <p> - We did a most careful stalk, creeping towards the place of the sounds, - under Clarence’s complete directions. At last, he alone pressed on with - us, the others willingly remaining where he signalled. We were not now in - overwhelmingly thick thorn, but it was too dense to be pleasant, and - necessitated our handling our rifles with the greatest care. After a hard - few minutes we sank down to rest. Our rifles covered a small clearing. - </p> - <p> - The game of all sizes had made tunnels through the jungly place, high - enough in some parts for us to stand upright, and all seemed to lead to - this open glade. Flies in myriads were buzzing about the undergrowth, a - reddish squirrel, with bushy tail, jerked towards me on a fallen guda - tree, then with a chatter made off among the branches. The air was simply - stifling with dry heat, and I was thirsty beyond words. - </p> - <p> - Wonder of wonders! A dark ponderous bulk loomed on the left of us, under a - great guda tree, overhung with armo creeper. The great head came well into - view, all unconscious of intruders. The beast was lunching, eating his - favourite bushes, and munching steadily. This was not at all sporting—it - seemed so simple. - </p> - <p> - Cecily gently pushed the muzzle of her 12-bore through the sheltering - thorns, and was able to take careful and steady aim at the rhino’s ear. - She was in excellent range. It is no use trying for a rhino at a distance - exceeding eighty, or at the most, ninety yards. Bang! The smoke hung for a - moment, obscuring everything. The animal seemed to stagger to the shot. - And then, on the instant, with snorts and squeals, small out of all - proportion to the size of the emitter, charged across the intervening - space. Then when he made the jungle he as quickly dashed back again. I was - very anxious for Cecily to have this shoot all to herself, and though I - had a glorious chance of a heart shot from my position, I held my fire. - </p> - <p> - I am not very clear what happened next, and when I apply to my cousin she - says, “I’m sure I cannot tell you.” I think Cecily came dangerously - forward. The 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 - its 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! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0281.jpg" alt="0281 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0281.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - 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. - </p> - <p> - 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. - </p> - <p> - It was rather late when our men reached camp, laden with treasure. They - brought the rhino’s feet, his tail, his head, and some of his skin. There - was no reason why they should not have brought it all. It comes off quite - easily. They said they had not time, as they feared being bushed, or that - lions would be attracted to the spot by the smell of blood. The skin is - very valuable to the Somalis for shields, and many other purposes, and we - rather thought it was a put up business to secure half the rhino hide for - themselves. We thought of going back then and there and seeing the thing - finished, but Clarence said it was such a long way off, the result would - be we would all assuredly be caught out in the bush at night. I suppose he - was right. They had us fairly. - </p> - <p> - The Somalis don’t care for eating rhino, and I cannot say the flesh looks - very inviting, but we got the chef to make us some soup of the tail, which - you hear so well spoken of by all travellers. I do not think our opinion - can be considered a fair one. It would have been a better soup had we made - it ourselves. Our cook could not cook anything properly, and the tail and - taste of it, if there had been either in the pan at any time, was drowned - in a waste of water. - </p> - <p> - Before the great pachyderm began to be dismembered we measured him, and - his waist, or where his waist should be if he had one, was by the tape, - seven feet three inches. I don’t know what a fashionable belle rhinoceros - would think of that. In length he was a shade over ten feet, but this was - not a very large animal as they go. We set to work helping to stretch and - clean and saltpetre. The anterior horn was much blunted at the tip, the - result of some accident or wear and tear of some kind, so that it lost - half an inch or so in length. But eleven inches looks formidable enough, - on such a fearsome head. The eyes are ridiculously small in a rhino. I - think to such altogether inadequate optics much of the bad sight put down - to the rhino must be ascribed. One would hardly think every single animal - of this variety starts its career with bad sight, but that is what every - hunter tells you. Go nap every time on the non-seeing powers of your enemy - if he happens to be a rhinoceros if you like, but see there is a tree to - get behind before you begin. This is advice from myself. - </p> - <p> - Next day was a poor one as far as sport was concerned. We were very stiff - with so much crawling, though at the time we had not noticed it. We sent - off a few men to retrieve the rest of the hide from the remains of the - rhino, and when the camp was quiet we investigated the trophies, and - overhauled them carefully. Some of them cried aloud in their agony for - attention. The skin of the last killed lion was beginning to lose some - hair in parts. And this was because, when we undid it and looked behind, - great lumps of flesh still adhered, making it impossible for the - preservatives to do any curing. It took us a long time to set this right, - and we rubbed alum in as hard as we could on the inside. Of course, if the - skinning is not carefully done, the chances are the trophy will have to be - thrown away. I don’t know how we should have taken a catastrophe of such - magnitude. - </p> - <p> - The men returned to say the skin of the rhino was not to be found. I don’t - suppose they had even been to the spot. I am confident they had, in some - mysterious way, managed to let their friends know a wealth of shields were - to be had for the taking. There was nothing left of our huge friend of the - day before, so the men said. Wild beasts had eaten him. - </p> - <p> - Later, I heard a great shouting in camp and calls for us, and answering in - person, I saw Clarence seated on a pony, proudly displaying and offering - to me a baby oryx, which he had in front of him. We lifted the mite down, - holding it, all struggling, firmly. It was terror-stricken, poor wee - thing. I tried to stroke its satin coat, but it only started and looked at - me with frightened piteous beseeching eyes. Clarence meant well, but oh, I - would a thousand times he had left the kid with its mother. And then a - thought struck me. How had he come by this fleet thing? May be killed the - doe and then ridden the baby down. Instantly I put it to him. I know I - frowned. But he disarmed me by saying the matter was not as I thought, and - the mother was alive, unharmed; that he had ridden them down until the - little oryx, spent, had to drop, and the mother fled away in fear before - his threatening gestures. - </p> - <p> - I consulted with Cecily, and we came to the conclusion that if we wanted - to please Clarence there was nothing for it but to keep the buck, but - after mixing it some condensed milk, which we gave it in a bottle with a - bit of rubber tubing on the neck, we realised that to retain our little - guest meant <i>our</i> going without milk in our tea for weeks. Camel milk - was not available, and the baby could not eat. I was thankful of a - reasonable excuse to offer Clarence, and he saw the sense of it. I longed - to restore the tiny creature to its mother, and Clarence said if we took - it back to the place from whence it came the doe would assuredly find it. - </p> - <p> - We decided to try this, but to secrete ourselves, and cover the baby buck - with our protecting rifles. Otherwise, it was quite on the cards that a - lion or leopard would make off with it ere its mother could retrieve it. - In any case, I should imagine a violent death awaited it. It was so very - youthful and easily stalked. I took the timorous creature across my - saddle, it seemed all struggling legs and arms, and with Clarence for - guide made for the place, some two miles off, where he first started the - oryx. I confess I still had my doubts as to his tale and its veracity, but - in this I wronged our shikari. - </p> - <p> - We set the baby down alone, so fragile and small it looked, and then hid - ourselves in a great thorn brake. We were as far off as we dared go, and - the buck did not wander far. Sometimes it bleated in a little treble, once - or twice it lay down, tucking its long legs beneath it, to rise again and - wander, all lonely, among the low thorn bushes. Two hours or more we - waited and then—a gentle whinny, and almost before we realised it, a - perfect oryx doe cantered towards the fawn. She nosed it all over and her - joy expressed itself in every imaginable way. It was a most beautiful and - pathetic sight. We made some movement, and all alert again, the graceful - creature sailed away, the baby trotting beside. My eyes were full of - tears, and I had a lump in my throat. ’Twas pitiful, ’twas - wondrous pitiful. To think that in all the jungle a mother could find her - way to the lost best beloved with nothing to guide her, nothing to tell - her. Clarence took it all most naturally, and said all female things are - like that. I do almost believe him! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - The sun sailed high in a sky of molten brass, the hot sand blistered the - palm set down on it, not a breath of air was stirring. And I, foolish - wight, was stalking, on hands and knees, a hartebeest. A family of ants - had crawled up my sleeve. I went too near their palace, I suppose, and - they mistook the way. A yellow snake, small, wicked-looking, and alert, - lay right in my path. Not for a hundred hartebeest would I disturb him! I - made a great detour, to the wonderment of Clarence, who trailed along in - my wake. When he saw he wondered no longer. He has learned now, and thinks - snakes are a sort of mania of mine, and that I must be humoured. Great - bluebottle flies jumped up in our faces from the red-hot sand, then—buzz—and - down again. Oh, for some shade—some air—some water! There was - my hartebeest again, with well-groomed coat and flicking tail. The flies - were a worry to him too. Now he gets beyond a bunch of aoul—his - sentinels. I shall never get within range. I lay my rifle down, myself - with it. I can’t see the hartebeest, the aoul, the flies—there is - nothing anywhere but a golden maze of light, and a world of noisy hammers - in my ears. - </p> - <p> - ’Twas nothing, just a mild touch of the sun, and next day Richard - was himself again, and out with the second hunter, like a French falconer, - prepared to fly at anything. Only we chose towards evening for our - hunting. - </p> - <p> - Our ponies carried us through most of the dense country, but sometimes we - had to get off and seek an easier way round. We saw tracks of all - varieties of game, but for an hour or more had the jungle apparently to - ourselves. We were leading our steeds, when we crossed a great find, a - place where a lion had been lying, may be after some great banquet. The - thorns had taken his size and shape like a mould, and his hairs were all - about to betray his whilom presence. The hunter spoored about and picked - up the lion trail some little way off. The ground being so loose and sandy - made no good evidence of time. The pugs might have been made now, or that - morning. We went on silently and after not more than five minutes going, - with an electric-like shock, I realised that a lion stood over a kill to - our immediate front. He winded us, and stretching his great neck and head - upwards to sniff in magnificent disregard bounded into the thicket, the - tuft on his tail being the last glimpse I caught of him. I was too taken - aback to even try to get my rifle up. It all happened so very swiftly. We - were a very small party to tackle a lion in thick cover, but my man was a - little Trojan and did not hesitate when I said I would proceed and he must - take a hand at the game. He was carrying my 12-bore, and I had my .500 - Express. - </p> - <p> - First we tethered the ponies, thinking they would be quite safe as we - should be in the near vicinity, then we commenced to beat after a fashion - of our own. Walking as straight ahead as we could, pushing and struggling - through where we couldn’t. We fired into the dusky depths in desperation - at last, but nothing happened. It was not until we had covered a few - hundred yards more before we saw, in a lightening of the undergrowth, a - sinuous yellow form streaking along. The hunter in his excitement brought - up his rifle. I held his arm. The danger was too great. If a wounded lion - turned on us here we were done for, hemmed in as we were. We saw no more - of him, he had put some distance between us, and “on my life, had stol’n - him home to bed.” - </p> - <p> - It was a great disappointment, but, after all, there isn’t much sport in - courting disaster. The chances should be almost even, a little in favour - of the animal, not entirely so. - </p> - <p> - The ponies had untethered themselves, it doesn’t say much for the way we - secured them, I’m afraid, and had betaken their way campwards. We had to - track their hoof marks that we might also cut a long journey short. Night - was closing in, and we wanted the shelter of our zareba. And supper, oh, - supper! most of all! - </p> - <p> - We had no special time for meals in camp. A system that would properly - disgust a good housewife. The cook had to produce food whenever we - required some, at any time, early or late. It did not make for good - cooking; but then, neither did the chef. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVII—TREE CLIMBING - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - Do not give dalliance too much the rein - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - The Tempest - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>hen out early one - morning a green oasis tempted me to leave the sandy waste and ramble in - among the depths of the aloes, creep in and out of the festoons of armo, - and hunt for anything that might be astir. Choosing the part where the - bushes seemed most willing to admit us, we crept in—a hunter and I—he - of the Cook’s Guide turn of mind. Parting the creepers as we went, we - found it easier than we had thought to penetrate the density. - </p> - <p> - On almost every branch a chameleon lay basking, dead to all appearances - save for the eternal wakefulness of their eyes. In a glade where the grass - grew high there was a whirr and a rush. Some small animal was startled. - But we saw nothing. The hunter prepared to account for it, but I would - have none of it, and silenced him with a look. I was there to read the - book of the wild for myself, not to have it read aloud. - </p> - <p> - A tree snake dropped from his low perch on a thorn bush, and wriggled away - in the thicket. Two distinct lines of brown marked him, and that was all I - saw. He gave me “creeps,” and I turned away in an opposite direction. - Sometimes a bit of thorn would hold me lovingly, and all my blandishments - could not make it let me go. I only obtained freedom with leaving a piece - of my coat as tribute. Vulturine guinea-fowl ran at the sight of us, - raising their naked necks and setting off at great speed to make safety. - They are beautiful birds, and the prismatic colours of the feathers show - up against the green of the armo very distinctly. Doves cooed above us, - but I could not catch a glimpse of one. As we neared the middle of the - oasis we came on a few scattered half-eaten bones—a dead lesser - koodoo. He had furnished a meal for a lion, doubtless, and later for one - of his own people. One or two varieties of antelope are very fond of - nibbling dry white bones. - </p> - <p> - We took a turn to the right, and on the instant a beautiful lesser koodoo - took a gigantic leap over an in-the-way bunch of aloe scrub. He - disappeared into a thicket and I stood motionless listening. So I suspect - did my koodoo. All was still, but only for a moment. The amateur Cook’s - Guide got entangled somehow or other with a trailing creeper, and to my - complete horror and amazement let off my .500 Express which he was - carrying. He must have been holding it in very unskilled fashion. The - bullet missed my head by a couple of inches. I felt the whiz of it and - heard it ricochet into the trees. I was so unnerved I sat down and thought - things out. My hunter was quite oblivious to any shock I might have - received, because the stock of the rifle had hit him hard somewhere—I - was too vexed to inquire the exact location—and he bewailed his - misfortune. I ordered him to go home to camp and leave me, which he did - with alacrity. After about half an hour my trembling fit passed. It was - very cowardly to be so upset, but I hate unknown and quite unforeseen - dangers, and an unsuspected bullet at close quarters demoralises me. - </p> - <p> - I sat on quietly, and the bush began to stir and take up its daily round - again, forgetting the demon crash that had disturbed its slumbers. A - little red velveteen spider ran speedily up an armo leaf, tumbled over the - edge and suspended himself on a golden wire. Jerk! jerk! Lower he went, - then up again. Two bars of his house completed, when alas, a great fly of - the species that haunted our trophies, flew right across and smashed the - spider-house to nothing. The velveteen spider sat on a leaf—fortunately - he had made safety ere the Juggernaut passed along—and meditated, - but only for a moment. He was a philosopher and knew all about the “Try, - try, try again” axiom. Over he hurled himself on another golden thread and - laid another criss-cross foundation-stone. And there I left him because I - wanted to penetrate farther. - </p> - <p> - How could I manoeuvre a big antelope now if I shot one, seeing that my - hunter had left me? Was it not counting my chickens? Yes, but that is what - one does all the time in big game shooting! - </p> - <p> - In one bit of glade I worked my way through the caterpillars had played - devastator; every leaf was eaten. I hurried on. I rested again on a fallen - guda tree, hunting first to see no snake shared my seat with me. I kept - utterly silent for an hour or more, when my patience was rewarded. Through - the bushes I saw a white chin bobbing up and down as it chose out the most - succulent thorns. Lower it went. I hardly breathed. To see a lesser koodoo - in his haunts one sometimes has to wait for months. Here was I, in the - limits of a morning’s patrol, so lucky. The great broad ear flickered in - and out. Because this antelope mostly lives in thick cover where quick - hearing is his only safety, his ear has grown in accordance with - necessities. Somali hunters never seem to differentiate between the koodoo - and the lesser koodoo. They are both one and the same to them, and are - called “Godir” indiscriminately. And yet the two animals are so different - it seems absurd to think of confusion. - </p> - <p> - The koodoo (<i>strepsiceros koodoo</i>) is the biggest antelope in - Somaliland, heavy, magnificent and warlike. It inhabits mountainous parts, - and the reason would seem to be plain. Space for such great horns is - required, and though on occasion they frequent jungly parts of the Golis, - their nature and habit is to live in the stony gorges, and stalking one is - not unlike stalking one of our own Scotch deer. The lesser koodoo (<i>strepsiceros - imberbis</i>) is the personification of all the graces. What the koodoo - gains in majesty the lesser has in exquisite symmetry of line and contour. - The lesser koodoo never grows much larger than a small donkey, the horns - are replicas in little of the average three footer of the koodoo, and - there is no beard, but a short mane. Like the koodoo, the lesser is - striped down each side like the white ribs of a skeleton. - </p> - <p> - My friend still fed, rustling the bushes as he chose out his favourite - herbage. I had seen nothing to fire at, but, in any case, I did not mean - to try for him, as in my lone condition it would mean a return to camp for - assistance, and meanwhile the beautiful antelope would be food for any - prowling beast. I hated at all times to kill wastefully. The head of the - lesser koodoo looked, as far as I could see, a fair one, the light of the - sun glinting through the shadowy depths occasionally caught the curving - horns. But since he might not be mine, since I could not get him back to - camp, I would not kill wantonly. - </p> - <p> - In speaking of the wholesale slaughter of Somaliland fauna by sportsmen - and sportsmen so-called, one ought really to include the Somalis - themselves. They have assisted materially to decimate the country—of - elephants particularly. On lions they have not made much impression, as - these animals are too big a job to tackle unless they are driven to it. - But in the days when the elephant roamed the land, their slaughter for the - sake of the ivory was wholesale, terrific and amazing. Clarence, who was - of the Gadabursi country, well remembers his father and his tribe hunting - the elephant on a colossal scale, killing several a week. The manner of it - was courageous, to say the least. The tribe went out, mounted on swift - ponies, and the marked-down elephant being selected from the herd, he was - ridden down in the open. One agile Somali would caper in front of the - pachyderm to attract his attention, and a rider at the gallop would pass - in swift flying rush behind and cut the ham-string or tendon of one of the - hind legs. The elephant would then be at the mercy of the hunters. It must - have been a dangerously exciting business. The sword used—I saw one - in the hut of a Mullah at the Upper Sheik—is of native make, - apparently, strong, and longer in the blade than the bilâwa, which is - often seen in its scabbard of white leather bound round the waist of a - Somali. It was not unlike the familiar sword known to us as the “Dervish”—two-edged, - with a groove down the centre, and light. The handle was of horn, and - bound about with leather. And yet we think ourselves brave to venture in - the vicinity of my lord the elephant with the latest thing in rifles in - our hands! - </p> - <p> - What with the ham-stringing, and all hunters killing cows and bulls - indiscriminately, the result has been that the elephant has left his old - haunts, never to return. The Somalis wasted the entire carcase. They do - not care to eat the flesh, and even the hide is not so beloved as that of - the oryx and rhino. The Somali tusks were never of the vast proportions - attained in other parts of Africa. Ivory still forms part of the stock of - some trading caravans, so the elephants must exist in the flesh somewhere - in Somaliland, unless these traders trade with others again at the rear of - the back of beyond. - </p> - <p> - A twig cracked! No twig of mine, I swear, since I sat like a statue carved - in stone. My foot had long since gone to sleep, and pins and needles - pricked it. The bushes trembled, then were still, and stealthily, with - very little movement, the beautiful antelope moved away. I saw him as he - circled round a bend in the jungle, and in a flash he was gone. Really I - had enjoyed my morning as keenly as though I had added to my bag an - hundredfold. - </p> - <p> - And so back to camp I went, and as I went I notched the trees that I might - find the right place in my “Hedd-Godir” (koodoo forest) again. I wanted - Cecily to come with me and try and track my friend the lesser koodoo. When - I got home, I found all the men congregated round one whom they said was - grievously hurt through a camel falling on him. I couldn’t find anything - wrong, no broken bones, but the man said the pain internally was very - great, almost unbearable. I got out my hypodermic syringe and injected - some of the morphia we had in case of emergencies into the arm, to the - wonderment of the men, and then I had the invalid placed down on a - camel-mat to sleep, and all the other men were forbidden to disturb the - invalid. And lo! when the effects of the morphia wore off we heard no more - of aches and pains. It was <i>the</i> cure of the trip. And the “coogeri” - medicine was held in high esteem ever afterwards. I asked what “coogeri” - meant, and was told—“inside.” - </p> - <p> - Sitting on a camp chair in peace and quietness, with a book and the cup - that cheers, Clarence broke in on us to say that a party of twenty-five - horsemen had arrived prepared to dibaltig before us—Heaven only - knows why, or where the men had dropped from. With as good grace as we - could, and a cup of tea in hand, we went outside the zareba to see a crowd - of Somalis, mounted, in the usual lively get-up, <i>khaili</i> tobes, - shields, spears, and the other necessaries of performers of the dibâltig. - The ponies were so be-tasselled on a bright red band over the eyes, I - don’t know how they were to see the way at all. One stalwart, the head-man - of the party, had decorated his steed with a frill of lions’ mane around - its neck, fastening in front with a large bunch of yellow ribbons. Very - hot and uncomfortable for the pony, but very effective and circus-like. - </p> - <p> - “Salaam aleikum,” and “Mot! Mot! io Mot!” Then the chorister-in-chief - (these dibâltig performances are somewhat like the “waits” at Christmas) - began a long song, all—Clarence said—about us, wishing us - health, happiness, and many wives. - </p> - <p> - “Wives, Clarence?” - </p> - <p> - “So says the song.” - </p> - <p> - “Then say we can’t have wives, because we are not sahibs, and some day we - shall be wives ourselves.” - </p> - <p> - “With luck!” ejaculated Cecily. - </p> - <p> - Clarence translated, and a perfect tremor of excitement shook the whole - team. The horsemen pressed closer, and gazed at us until their eyes nearly - dropped out of their heads. Laughing at the intensity of the inspection, - we took our hats off and bowed. Our hair might be considered adequate - proof of Mem-sahibdom. Goodness knows what the team considered it. They - drew back and talked and jabbered and discussed. - </p> - <p> - To dibâltig or not to dibâltig, that is the question. And how we <i>hoped</i> - they would answer it in the negative, and let us get back to tea. - </p> - <p> - 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 the 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 dibâltig friends sat - their panting ponies they raised both arms with spears held high, and dear - me, <i>how</i> they shouted that “Mot” sentence. - </p> - <p> - 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. - </p> - <p> - If every man had to have a tobe it meant twenty-five, and we had to - economise or we should clear out our stock before we finished up at - Berbera. We had started out with several pieces of sheeting, but had done - an immense amount of distributing. A tobe when cut has to be about twelve - times over the length from a man’s elbow to his finger tips. That is how - we measured. We offered half a dozen tobes, and suggested that the - performers should toss up for them. - </p> - <p> - A hurricane of stormy words ensued, most annoying, as six tobes at a whack - is very generous indeed. The men could not be invited to a meal because - the rice supplies would not bear any undue strain. The affair ended with - the presentation of five good clasp knives. And then the dissatisfied - warriors rode away. We took the opportunity of telling Clarence that if - any more Somalis came bent on doing this dibâltig performance they must do - it on their own. We had seen enough of it. And run on the present lines it - is more expensive than a box at the opera. We went back to a second tea, - and a bath to get rid of the dust that covered us like flour. - </p> - <p> - In the evening, Cecily and I again penetrated my koodoo forest by - ourselves, more for the pleasure of wandering in the beautiful oasis than - anything, and our search went farther than my stroll of the morning. We - pushed and crawled our way through the densest thickets that we might find - the reason for such flapping and screaming of dozens and dozens of - vultures, kites and hawks. In a thicket of thorn where the durr grass grew - high, and in patches left off altogether, and exposed the sand, lay the - remains of a lesser koodoo. It had been partially eaten, but not by - vultures, a lion evidently, because it had begun on the hind quarters and - eaten about half the animal. The antelope’s head was thrown back, and the - fore legs were tucked beneath him. The lion had sprung from the grass - straight on to his prey. The horns swept the hunched shoulders, and I - think it must have been my friend of the morning. - </p> - <p> - Judging by the way in which the birds were acting, coming near, and then - retiring, and taking into consideration the fact that they had not - ventured to the kill, it was likely that the lion was now lying close to - the meat, watching it, until the internal arrangements permitted of eating - some more. This is a very usual thing with the big cats. Was it nice to be - in this durr grass with a lion, even a fed-up one? - </p> - <p> - We decided to hurry back to camp and try and get out some of the men - before the light gave in, to build us a “machan” over the dead antelope, - in which we should keep watch and ward all night in the hope of bagging - the lion as he returned to his kill. Our first idea was that one of us—to - be decided by tossing up—should remain in the jungly place to see - that time was not taken by the forelock by his majesty. But, debating the - point, we thought it was going to be a trifle lonely for the one left - behind, with night, and possibly a lion, coming on. - </p> - <p> - We made our way out as quickly as possible, and careering back to camp as - though all the fiends were after us, brought Clarence and four of the - hunters with axes and <i>hangols</i> to the place where the koodoo had - been. Had been! For there it was not when we returned. The dragging of the - bushes and the crushed grass showed us the way. There at some two hundred - yards off was all that now remained of the lesser koodoo. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0303.jpg" alt="0303 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0303.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - A flash of sinuous yellow. A cry of “Libbah! Libbah!” from the left-hand - hunter. The durr grass waved, and a fine lioness bounded high and sank - again. Crack! from Cecily’s rifle. She must have been in better place than - I was for a shot. I should have annihilated one of the men had I blazed - away. Crack! again. And then I saw what the redoubtable Cecily was firing - at. Another animal altogether! A massive lion, with an almost black mane - and more cumbersome in the front than any other of his genus I had ever - seen. All lions fall away very much behind, but I really think this one - must have been malformed. However, we never saw him again, so the point - had, perforce, to remain unsettled. As the lion streaked off, evidently - not inconvenienced by Cecily’s bombardment, his mate made a successful - effort to follow his lead. Flat, and low to earth, snake-like, she crossed - the only bare patch of clearing to the right of me. Still my line of fire - was blocked by a hunter who put himself in my way every time as if by - design, and had not the sense to drop and give me a chance. Still, there - was Clarence on the extreme right, armed with a 12-bore. The lioness would - have to run the gauntlet of his fire. “Mâro! Mâro!” (Shoot! Shoot!) I - cried to him in an agony of nervous Hindostanee. - </p> - <p> - The imperturbable Clarence did nothing, and let the yellow one pass him. - Cecily was not now so placed that she could get in a successful shot. Two - lions, and both gone! No koodoo left to attract anything save hyaenas and - jackals. When I asked our shikari why on earth he had let slip so - wonderful a chance he was quite calm and said: “Mem-sahib shoot dar lion. - I no shoot dar lion.” Evidently he meant to be very magnanimous and - refrain from poaching on our preserves in the laudable desire to see we - got our money’s worth. - </p> - <p> - It was now getting dusk, and ominous dark corners told us night had cast - her mantle athwart the trees. I ordered a hunter to cut off the head of - the maltreated lesser koodoo, for the sake of the horns, a very easily - acquired trophy, but one very well worth having. The head was not eaten at - all, for as I have explained it is the habit of lions to begin at the - other end. - </p> - <p> - Then we tried to get out of the place. We took some tosses over thorn and - bramble, and disturbed the guinea fowl as they settled to roost in rows on - the branches. I upset the equilibrium of a hornbill and his wife, who - flapped and croaked their annoyance at me. Before we were clear of the - oasis, night had settled down in inky blackness, and then Clarence led us - by the hand. I believe he saw in the dark like a cat. He brought us safe - and sound to the sandy waste that rimmed the green garden, and once there - camp was easily reached. - </p> - <p> - All through the night the lions roared, and we could distinguish the - difference in the voice of the lion to that of his mate. One would have - thought they had eaten too much to roar—a whole lesser koodoo - between them! Perhaps they were protesting that we had docked them of the - head. Next day around the wells near where we were camped the pugs of two - lions stood out clear in the sand, going from the oasis and back. The - wells are too deep for wild creatures to negotiate, but water sometimes is - to be had in the clay troughs used by the camels. These troughs were very - dry, and I’m afraid that the lions went away thirsty. As it seemed an - undoubted fact that the great cats were still in the fastness of green a - mile or more in circumference, it did seem absurd for us to go on until we - had made another effort to secure a fine trophy for the collection. - </p> - <p> - At the edge of the oasis, on the north side, before it finally ended in a - yellow waste of sand, stood a few guda trees, difficult to climb, for no - branches hold out kindly assistance for at least sixteen feet from the - roots, when the tree spreads vigorously into fantastic shapes to the top, - which attains a height of some fifty feet. The foliage is very wide, and - beautifully green. Our idea was to climb a guda in the evening, having - tied up a suitable bait below. It had to be a sheep, because we had no - goat. We chose our tree, and when the witching hour of twilight arrived, - armed with climbing-irons we began the ascent this-wise. First myself, to - the astonishment of half our caravan, who had come to see what they should - see. They liked the climbing-irons immensely. I don’t think they had seen - any before. - </p> - <p> - 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 - insignificant 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. - </p> - <p> - 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 - rain, 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 - consternation to the sheep as the appearance of the lion could have done. - The man had to be followed by the necessary humanitarian inquiries, and we - reflected that no lion with an ounce of caution about him would have - failed to take warning long ere this. The rain had damped our ardour as - well as our clothes. We voted for camp and bed. Cecily affixed the irons - to her boots and descended, and then I pulled them up again for my use. - Clarence got the rifles down, and the fallen hunter had no need to get any - lower. There we all stood in pouring rain. Clarence had to lead the hunter - who claimed to be badly injured, and Cecily and I led the sheep. - </p> - <p> - The caravan was silent, fires out with the rain, but the watch was alert, - for on our approach we heard, “Kuma?” (Who are you?) repeated twice. - Clarence replied “Friends,” and we passed, and all was well—at least - more or less, for the camp was in a dismal state of slop. A big rain-storm - speedily turns the deep sand to mud. The men were sleeping beneath <i>herios</i>, - and I think one or two had been making free with our tents, as they had a - very hot native smell about them when we turned in to rid ourselves of our - dripping garments. The canvas residences stood up well that night and - resisted the downpour valiantly. Everything was damp and fires were - impossible. - </p> - <p> - All the next day the deluge continued. It was no use to attempt to go - a-hunting, as the rain was washing out spoor as fast as the animals - walked. The day dragged through somehow, and bored us almost to tears. - However, night saw a welcome cessation of the rain, and the sky grew clear - and dotted with stars innumerable. The next morning had to see the - camel-mats dried ere they could go on, and the sun was fortunately like a - furnace. - </p> - <p> - In the evening we were able to trek some eight miles, and formed zareba by - starlight. To get the fires lighted was a great difficulty, and the cook - sent many messages by the “boy,” to encourage us in the belief supper - would be forthcoming if we had the patience to wait long enough. - </p> - <p> - Chatting over the meal we realised that the hour had come when we might - dawdle no longer. Time and the season bade us make a decided effort to - cross the Haud again now that water was so plentiful. We sent for Clarence - and talked to him, deciding to rise early on the morrow and get things - into trim for the great undertaking. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVIII—A JOUST WITH A BULL ORYX - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - On a sudden one hath wounded me, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - That’s by me wounded - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Romeo and Juliet - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Truly, pleasure will be paid, one time or another - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Twelfth Night - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he following day - we made our way to some adjacent wells, and spent the whole of the hours - in filling up everything we could lay hands on with water. All old bottles - were utilised, and I arranged that the precious fluid should be - allowanced, and any man found helping himself would find the promised - bonus at the end of the trip a myth. The camels and ponies were watered, - and we had baths! Then, in the dawn of a day of intense heat, with the - early sun a-shimmer on all the glory of green that surrounded us again, - the air yet heavy with dew, and drowsy with the hum of myriad insects we - marched, heading for the Haud. We might not again have any opportunity of - securing any water before we negotiated the great tract, which we were to - cross in a different part to our previous journey over. - </p> - <p> - The jungle was very dense, and the caravan simply crawled. I rode ahead, - and about eight o’clock walked into, almost over, a lioness sound asleep - with two cubs. She was off almost before I realised the marvel of the - thing. Clarence dashed up, his quick eye had taken in the scene. He handed - me my rifle. I frowned at him. Surely he had learned by this time that - even a woman can be sporting. For it was not only discretion that made me - play the better part, nor the thought of the panic a fracas with a lioness - would cause in the caravan. I would have loved to take a cub home. But—there - was a big but. Nobody short of a sportsman who “browns” a herd of buck - indiscriminately—oh yes, there are such men here and there!—would - destroy such a family. They departed in peace, and not in pieces. I - spoored a little way, and in clear sandy ground came on the tiny pugs, now - quiescent, now running and claw marks showing. - </p> - <p> - Next we came on rhino spoor, but in spite of what I had said Cecily halted - the caravan, whilst she, in the very hottest part of the day, did a stalk. - It all came to nothing, thanks be. I fell asleep on a <i>herio</i>, and - awakened to find my tent over me. The men had erected it to screen me from - the sun. They were servants in a thousand. - </p> - <p> - From this thick jungle we emerged on to a great open plain, or “bun,” and - Clarence told me it was called the Dumberelli. He often told us the names - of places we came to, and sometimes I wondered why they should be - christened at all. The “bun” was a waving sea of bright green grass, and - full of game. Aoul in regiments sought the new grass, an oryx or two, and - “Sig” (Swayne’s gazelle), looking like well kept sea-side donkeys, stood - about in ones and twos. But always out of range. Time was of such value - here we could not make a really big attempt to secure a specimen of picked - hartebeest. But I managed after a wearying effort, in which I was - frustrated time and time again by alert bands of aoul, who constantly gave - the alarm, to bag a smallish sig, a female, and they carry much lighter - heads than the male. I could not afford to pick and choose. It was my - first hartebeest, and I feared the possibility of going home minus a - specimen of the genus. However, Cecily, who did a rival shoot on her own, - secured a male, whose horns topped seventeen inches, a great improvement - on the beggarly twelve of my trophy. We took the tape measurement on the - front curves. - </p> - <p> - The sunsets were superb, and heralded the most intense cold. It became - necessary to trek every hour we could, as every one dreaded a water - famine. We seemed in these days not to sleep at all, but march and march - interminably. - </p> - <p> - One early morning we found the quaintest of lizards lying in the sun. It - had an outspread tail that seemed to overbalance the horrid little thing. - Clarence prodded it gently with a small stick, and it cried every time he - did it, just like a baby. He told us it is called “asherbody,” which - translated means baby, and I noticed, not for the first time, that the - Somali mind has a nice sense in the christening of things. - </p> - <p> - We trekked right into a large Somali zareba, the largest camp we had yet - seen, and after a visit from the head-man, were let in for a “tomasho,” or - native dance, a different thing altogether to the dibaltig, and much more - boring. We arrived at the <i>karia</i> at the time appointed, dressed in - our best clothes, which did not say much, as the best was very bad. I - would we had been fortified by the possession of spotless garments to - steel ourselves against the inquisitive looks of the Somali ladies. It is - so hard for a woman to appear at ease in rags. He was a philosopher indeed - who said, somewhere or other, “It is our clothes-thatch that, reaching to - our heart of hearts, tailorises and demoralises us.” - </p> - <p> - We were received by the usual curious crowd, who fingered our coats and - tried to look into our pockets. Clarence explained we were to sit on the - <i>herios</i> prepared, and the show would begin. Men and women took part - in the dance, advancing from either side and then retreating. I have - attended many an Indian “potlatch” of extravagant description, but they - were dignified in the extreme to the Somali equivalent. I won’t describe - the dance in detail, because this is supposed to be a pleasant book; - besides, Mr. Stead may read it. To put the case mildly, the affair was - savage to a degree of ignorance I had not dreamed of in its unvarnished - vulgarity. - </p> - <p> - It was the first indication we had that the Somalis are uncivilised - savages. I tried to doze. And being very weary, slept. A violent push from - Cecily aroused me to a sense of politeness again, and realising that peace - reigned around we stood up, and through Clarence, thanked the gratified - “artistes,” and left them wrangling over the gifts which lay on the - ground, looking as though they were trying to apologise for the fact that - there were not enough of them to go round. We had to trench on the water - supply a little after this entertainment, for a wash was an absolute - necessity. - </p> - <p> - Next day a somewhat untoward incident occurred. Cecily and I had detached - from a herd of three a fine bull oryx, who by reason of some infirmity was - not so fleet as his fellows, and so made an easier quarry. Such a glorious - chase he gave us, and more than once we almost took a toss as the ponies - groped for a foothold in the maze of ant bear holes. - </p> - <p> - At last, to cut what promised to be a never-ending chase, I flung myself - off the pony at the nearest point I judged we should ever get to the - coveted oryx this way, and taking no sort of a sight, I was so out of - breath with the shaking of my steed, brought down the antelope in a - crumpled heap at a distance of some two hundred and ten yards. This was - not so bad, all things considered. We went up close to the fallen - creature. I had my hand through the reins of my prodigiously blowing pony, - and most injudiciously ranged alongside. Cecily was still mounted. The - splendid bull rose from the dead, erect and firm, and I was given no sort - of a chance to protect myself before he made for me with lowered horns. It - all happened in the twinkling of an eye. I jumped as clear as I could, but - the reins entangled me, and the vicious horns caught my left arm as my foe - swept along. I was brought to my knees with the impact. As he pulled up in - a great slide to turn for a return joust Cecily dropped him, at such close - quarters though that the skin was much damaged. My arm was ripped up most - ingeniously for quite three inches, Another rent in my poor coat to be - mended! However, it might all have been much worse. It might have been my - right arm. The wind was tempered to the shorn lamb. - </p> - <p> - I rode back to camp, with a handkerchief twisted tightly round the wound, - and Cecily stayed to guard the oryx from vultures, until I could send some - one to take over, when she returned to me fired with medical ardour and - primed with medical knowledge from our book. She pronounced the wound as - of the variety to be stitched. Could I bear it being stitched? I said - certainly, if she could endure the horror of stitching it. So we prepared - for action. I told my doctor I would not have the place washed because I - was convinced that Somali water, even when filtered, was not calculated to - cleanse, rather the reverse, and I did dread blood-poisoning. I sat - outside the tent on a packing case, and Cecily put three most workmanlike - stitches into my arm. She was a brick, never flinching until it was done, - when she let off bottled-up steam by crying about four tears, and I think - four tears are allowable—I mean without showing any sort of - cowardice or lack of courage—don’t you? Rome was not built in a day, - and Cecily had never even been hospital-nursing; but then she is the most - unfashionable person in the wide world. - </p> - <p> - I carried my arm in a sling as we marched next day. Cecily was very - anxious to halt the caravan on my account, but this I would not allow. The - wells must be reached at the earliest possible moment. Clarence had - reported that the supply was dangerously low. We traversed very ugly - country, sand and sand, with a few low scrub bushes dotted about—a - dispiriting vista enough. We shot a dik-dik for dinner, and so fared - sumptuously. There is about as much meat on the body of this tiny buck as - one gets on an English hare. - </p> - <p> - At last we came to the wells. We found a number of Somalis making a spa - out of the place, and selling the water, drop by drop. I don’t know if the - wells were some one’s birthright, or if some speculative Somali jumped the - claim, but a repellent old gentleman, who looked as though he had not - tried the precious liquid on himself for some years, gave us to understand - he owned the place. He asked such wealth for a mere dole of water we - decided to camp and think it out. He knew the value of what he had to - sell, the old sinner, for though we were but a few marches now from the - end of the Haud our caravan was a good size, and its consumption - necessarily great. We had the tents set up right there, and prepared to - improve the shining hour by seeking some sport on the Toyo Plain. - </p> - <p> - I discarded my sling altogether, and we started from camp early, reaching - the great “bun” after a stiffish ride. We left the ponies in charge of the - hunters some way from the fringe of grass, and in a certain amount of - cover. We stood for quite a long while watching the sea of waving green - which was not yet tall enough to conceal the numerous bands of game that - were out betimes to breakfast. A somnolent hartebeest stood up out of - range behind a clump of active aoul. Then we worked our way very gently to - a spot which gave us a clearer view. We lay down awhile, glad of the rest, - and watched the little harems quarrel and make it up. Sometimes a buck of - detective-like propensities would seem to say “I spy strangers,” and - communicated his alarm to the entire herd. A perfect note of interrogation - animated every one for a few moments, and all would gather together, until - a buck skipped towards us, and then in active graceful bounds dash back to - bring a pal to help investigation. Satisfied, they rejoined the admiring - does again. - </p> - <p> - But that hartebeest! I longed to get near him, but it seemed a hopeless - task. His sleepiness had passed, and now he was all ears and eyes. The sun - lit up his glossy coat, and caught the odd twist of his horns until they - gleamed again. We stalked in vain for an hour or more. My arm was a great - drawback to me, but I would not allow it to hamper me, and played the - Christian Science dodge on myself, saying, whenever a particularly acute - shoot of agony stabbed me, “You only <i>think</i> you have pain.” At last - we hit on a device for ensnaring the active one. He was taking no chances, - and that the best laid plans gang aft agley we know. Still my schemes and - machinations were rather disorganised for the moment, because I suddenly - realised I was sharing my small portion of the earth’s surface with a - particularly nasty looking snake! It was quite large enough to rout us - both, and we should have fled, I know, had not the reptile manifested a - dislike of its own to our presence, and made off into the long grass. - </p> - <p> - It took us a few minutes to recover from this shock and get back to our - designs for ensnaring the hartebeest. The general idea was that Cecily was - to work her way round opposite to me so that the sig lay between us. The - coveted prize would then, at least we hoped so, break near to one of us. - Of course it might just as easily dash off in quite another direction, - altogether out of range. But it was the only thing we could think of to - dislodge our quarry from the out-of-reach area in which it fed. I could - not do any stalking myself that necessitated going on hands and knees, so - Cecily set off, wriggling along like an eel. Though I soon lost sight of - her, I could in a way judge of her whereabouts. Aoul started here and - there as they winded her, moved away, and then contented themselves again. - They are like sentinels, these creatures, and must play a most useful part - in the drama of the jungle. Not knowing, though, the actual moment Cecily - would start the hartebeest, I began to feel quite nervous for fear I - missed an easy shot. The tension got quite irritating when up from the sea - of grass rose Cecily, like an Aphrodite in khaki. Her loud shout startled - the sig, who stood an instant in paralysed affright, then, on the wings of - the wind he sailed past me. I threw up my rifle, the pain in my supporting - arm forgotten, and fired. The animal went on at a great pace. I do not - think I got him anywhere, but Cecily, who ran through the grass to join - me, says she heard even from where she was the “phut” of the bullet, and - why didn’t I? This worried me a lot. I hate to think of half-shot - creatures dragging on in agony. We found our ponies and galloped off in - the line of country traversed by the vanished sig. We rode for a long way, - searched thoroughly, but found nothing. We saw ostrich, but at long range, - and we hadn’t the desire to try and bag one. After a lunch of cold oryx - and bread of sorts (the oryx, by the way, who gave me reason to remember - him), we decided to give up the chase, satisfied my bullet had not found a - billet. The whole way home was blank. My shot had alarmed all the jungle - folk, and they were now as shy as hawks. - </p> - <p> - Back in camp the parleying with the stingy proprietor of the wells began. - He would not reduce his charges, and we had to have water. I so hated to - be done. After due deliberation we served the old gentleman with an - ultimatum to the effect that we offered him a fair price, and if he would - not accept the amount, we should take the water by force if necessary. - Clarence translated the message, and afterwards we saw the recipient - talking to his friends, some fifteen Somalis, and gesticulating wildly. - The time arrived when the kettle demanded filling ere tea was forthcoming, - so with almost all our men carrying <i>harns</i> and barrels, we marched - right up to the walls. The old man, backed up by his Somalis, came close - to Cecily and myself, and jabbered a great deal in furious tones. I expect - the words were cuss words all right. They sounded like them. I signed to - the men to set to work filling up. The enraged Somali struck at me with - his spear. It would have fallen heavily upon me had not Clarence seen the - danger and parried it on his rifle. This annoyed me frightfully. I - tendered the amount we considered the water worth, and tapped my rifle - significantly. The Somalis fell back, and congregated at a little - distance, one of their number presently advancing to ask for backsheesh. - The battle was over. - </p> - <p> - That night my arm was in a parlous state, swollen and inflamed, and the - pain well-nigh overwhelmed me. I was in a high fever, and to proceed with - the journey was impossible. Cecily’s kindness during the awful days that - followed was wonderful, and her patience inexhaustible. In truth, I cannot - tell how much trouble I must have caused her, for things were not always - clear to me, and time seemed nothing. One night I wakened from this world - o’ dreams, and the tent flap being open I saw the scene around me like a - clear-limned etching. A glorious moon lit up the camp. Cecily stood just - outside, and by her side—who was it? I racked my muddled brains. - Why, of course, the leader of the Opposition. I sank back again, convinced - I was dreaming. By my side, on an upturned packing case, lay a bunch of - flowers. In the dim light they looked like English roses. They were dream - flowers, I suspect, but they seemed to me most sweet. I pondered about - them for an age. Was it the marvellous Marconi? Or did Mercury bring them? - I cared not, so they came. - </p> - <p> - Next morning I wakened to sense again, and Cecily was beside me and told - me—her dear eyes filled with tears—how nearly I had been lost - to her, and how, at the very worst of things, all unexpectedly, the leader - of the Opposition and Ralph had ridden into camp; that without their help - and common sense she could never have pulled me through. - </p> - <p> - The wells were now practically in our possession, the old gentleman having - waived his claims, but we were, of course, still out on the Haud. Camels - had been sent off to Berbera to meet us a little farther on, to return - with stores, mainly for the men. The Opposition had provided us with many - necessaries, and I was so glad because I did not want to leave the wild - any the sooner because of all this wasted time. - </p> - <p> - Next afternoon I held quite a Durbar. I sat outside the tent, and most of - the men came to make their salaams. Clarence—the good fellow—even - got so far as to say, shyly, “Me glad you olri.” They <i>all</i> seemed - glad to have me all right, and it was nice of them. - </p> - <p> - The leader of the Opposition and Ralph came to tea, and we made very - merry. The latter pretended to be not on speaking terms with Cecily, - because at their last interview she had called him “horrid pig,” but I - explained that it must be a wild pig, and then it would be a compliment; - he is so much nobler than a tame one, is fleet of foot, and courageous of - heart, and sometimes resembles a lion. Where comes the sting of being - called after such an animal? It was delightful to feel we had friends so - near, at least just now, when self-reliance was at such a low ebb with me. - Old William puts “Honour, love, obedience, troops of friends” as making up - the joys of life. I did not want troops, but after the jungle world, <i>two</i> - did make my joy just then. I have to say the jungle first, because it - still stood first, and I longed to be out again, not in it, and yet not of - it. “He who has heard the voice of Nature in her wildest places, who has - felt the mystery of her loveliness, the glamour of her nameless airs and - graces, is one who has eaten of the bread of Faëry, and drunken of the - wine of dreams.” - </p> - <p> - And the next day they propounded a scheme to me—these three - arch-plotters—we would all join forces, and wind up the shoots - together. But I had so many objections, one being the remembrance of the - remark at Aden about our wishing to cling on. The leader, with deep - sophistry, said that was more than atoned for, and wiped out by the - humiliating fact—to them—that our trip was much the most - successful, not only in the actual results, but in the peace and quiet of - the caravan. In theirs chaos had reigned from the very outset. The - head-man had levanted early on, taking with him the two best camels and no - end of loot, far worse calamity than a butler! Not a thing had been done - willingly, only under compulsion, and grumbling was the order of every - day. - </p> - <p> - I wondered if the extra large sum of money promised to each man of our - caravan at the end of the trip, provided his conduct pleased us—quite - my own idea—had kept things straight. Was it bribery and corruption? - If so, in our case, at least, the end justified the means. - </p> - <p> - As for our trophies, we of the rival expedition had much the best of it. - The Opposition had but one rhino, and altogether we had reason to feel - quite conceited. I hope we didn’t. For if there is one thing I hate it is - this same conceit. And sometimes I fear I have it slightly. For I judge by - the fact that I am apt to feel contempt at times, and lose sight of the - motto “Make allowances.” Now, conceit and contempt are hand in glove, and - if one has the one it entails having the other. But I hate contempt in - others, and admire humility as much as any virtue, it is perhaps the - rarest of them all. So I tried to be very humble, and thanked the warriors - for their gracious words. - </p> - <p> - Another great reason against the amalgamation was the trouble that would - arise with the men. With us Clarence was all powerful. Perhaps the new - arrivals would not pay allegiance to him, and so large a number together - would surely fight. All things considered, we agreed not to join, but to - meet at Berbera and go home together. We were bound there by way of the - midst of the Golis, and the Opposition did not propose to take them so far - up. They thought the game hardly worth the candle, in more senses than - one. True, the reserved area spreads a long way, but we wanted to see the - country anyhow. - </p> - <p> - In these days of convalescence we learned we had such worth having - friends. If Cecily regretted calling Ralph a “pig,” my conscience pricked - me that I once scornfully cavilled at the “leader’s” lack of inches. Not - that he was by any means a midget. How foolish I was! Why, the greatest - men have been little. Nelson and Napoleon, Lee and Frederick the Great, - Gustavus Adolphus and Marlborough, too, were on the small side. - </p> - <p> - How very foolish I was! - </p> - <p> - Of a night Ralph would play his violin around the twinkling fires. It - looked so unlikely an instrument in his hands, and yet he made it speak to - us like a living thing. He was the finest amateur I ever heard. Even the - Somalis loved to hear him play, and sat in charmed groups listening - intently. It shows they have receptive souls for beauty. I agree with an - old friend of mine that the man who has no music in his soul is fit for - “treasons, stratagems, and spoils.” If I haven’t mangled the Immortal - One’s words. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIX—IN THE GOLIS - </h2> - <p class="indent10"> - There was never yet philosopher that could endure the toothache - </p> - <p class="indent10"> - patiently - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Much Ado About Nothing - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first. - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Henry VIII - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he next matter of - interest lay in the return of the camel men. They came into camp - unexpectedly, and Ralph, who was lunching with us, called out to me in my - tent that a civilised looking “oont-wallah” (camel-man) wanted to speak to - me. There indeed stood one of the men who had gone off to Berbera by the - shortest possible route for supplies. He was to have met us farther on, - but we had delayed our departure so much longer than had been planned; we - were not, of course, to be found at the arranged rendezvous. So, very - sensibly, the small caravan came on to find us. The man gave me - particulars of his stewardship, and handed me a bundle of letters, and - some ancient <i>Daily Wails</i> and other newspapers. The whole lot seemed - out of place. Letters and papers are for those who live in the humming - world of men. We considered ourselves dead and buried to it, We wished we - had been in very truth after opening some of the communications. “Another - little bill,” Cecily said, handing me a quarter yard long sheet. - </p> - <p> - There were letters from our old shikari uncle, full of advice, kindly - doubts, and a few sharp digs. But his rapiers always had great big buttons - on, so did not hurt us as he lunged. Sooner, I know, would he have broken - his weapon across his knee. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0327.jpg" alt="0327 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0327.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - All Suburbia was announcing, through the columns of the <i>Morning Post</i>, - that marriages had been arranged for them. Who does all this “arranging”? - Nobody ever “arranges” a marriage for me. I often look hopefully to see. I - suppose if you come on it “arranged,” however unpleasant it may be to you, - there is nothing to be done but see the thing through. A quaint business! - Really quite on the lines of the Stone Age, when a furry suitor would - arrange with the furry father to exchange the furry daughter for a couple - of rabbits. - </p> - <p> - Cecily says if some one doesn’t arrange a marriage for her soon she’ll be - left on the shelf, but one can see a lot from a shelf, provided it is high - enough. Of course she’d be unpopular. Old maids always are. And this is - just because a man sees in every unmarried woman a walking statistic - against his irresistibility. - </p> - <p> - The Opposition kept us going in meat these days, but at last I prevailed - on Cecily to leave me and do a stalk on her own. But Ralph joined her, and - I wonder how much stalking they did. Anyway, they were bound for the Toyo - to look for hartebeest, and all they came back with was the tail, very - much the worse for wear and time, of an aoul. Ralph said he grabbed it as - the animal dashed past him, and it came off in his hand! I told him he - reminded me of the Book of Chronicles—Unveracious Chronicles! After - all, it was no taller story than many one hears, and a good deal funnier - than some. We know Eve told the first lie, but I am confident that if Adam - ever went big game shooting he came in a very good second at the winning - post. - </p> - <p> - The leader had a brilliant inspiration just then. We would have a day at - pig-sticking. He was great after pig in India, and of course where we were - was quite the right sort of country. I won’t say we had the right sort of - mounts. They did not understand the chase of a pig, did not yearn to, and - certainly never fathomed the secret. - </p> - <p> - First, we were explained to about the rules of the game. Then Clarence and - some hunters were told off to beat, and we saw to the spears, tipping - them, choosing the most likely from the collected ones belonging to our - men. I was allowed to wield a light one, being still a semi-invalid. We - all rode out towards the Toyo Plain, the men walking behind. I think I - have forgotten to mention the fact that Cecily and I rode astride. That - torturing, awkward, and most uncomfortable position which is at home - considered the correct way to sit a horse would have been impossible in - Somaliland, not to say dangerous, living under our present conditions. - </p> - <p> - The men beat every bush and blade of grass most conscientiously, but at - first nothing resulted. On nearing the Toyo, however, we joyfully - discovered that a bit of thick thorn cover concealed a small sounder of - wart-hog. They scattered as we rode into them. - </p> - <p> - Cecily smartly detached one of them, which immediately charged away back - into the fastnesses of the waving grass of the “bun.” A grand - hiding-place, and I feared we had lost the treasure. The leader and Ralph - dashed like lightning after the pig, and rounded it up in style. Back it - came like a whirlwind, and made for the open again. I rode at him, - thinking I was doing quite the right thing, and wild to draw first blood, - when Ralph signalled “Sow.” I was going far too quickly to draw up, my - stirrup leather broke, and the consequence was the pig and my steed - cannoned violently, and bang over I went. I called to the others not on - any account to stop, but to pursue the vanished sounder before it was too - late. This they did, and disappeared in a moment. - </p> - <p> - After I had sorted myself from out the pony, and with Clarence’s help - picked sundry bits of the landscape off my clothes, I mounted again, and - following the trail of the others, and led by their shouts, I arrived on - the scene of action just as one spear—Ralph’s—was taken. I - tried to join the exciting chase that ensued, but my pony would not see - the thing through, and disgraced me and itself every “jink.” The leader’s - spear now flashed about so very quickly I could hardly follow each phase - of the game, intent as I was on forcing my pony to take a hand in it. The - boar charged several times most ferociously, but the nimble warrior - parried each onslaught successfully. The boar was indeed a game one, and - nothing could hold him. Ralph and his pony went down like ninepins before - him, but the effort was the gallant hog’s last. The leader pinned him - down, and that spear was the <i>coup-de-grâce.</i> - </p> - <p> - They said Cecily and I did very well for complete novices at the sport, - but I can’t see that we did anything but get in the way. It was all very - exciting, and we were no end done up by the time we made camp again. - Cecily’s pony had a nasty gash as a reminder of the fray. Ralph stitched - it up most scientifically. We were promised the tushes of the boar, set up - in some way, as a souvenir of the great adventure. - </p> - <p> - One late afternoon Cecily went off with Ralph and Clarence for a final - attempt on the life of a hartebeest, while the leader and I peacefully - collected butterflies, or tried to, and paid a visit to the opposition - camp to see their trophies. All the skulls and skins were inspected. They - had a couple of Grevy’s zebra, having been to the Bun Feroli (Zebra - Plain), after we left them in the Ogaden, and a magnificent hippo from - near the Webbi. I felt very envious, but one can’t go everywhere. The - zebra skins were most exquisite, shining and silky, marked in great lines - of white and brown. The stripes varied very much in the two skins, one - having much narrower lines than the other. Birds of many varieties the - leader had collected, snakes too, and all the lizards. Being full of - infinite variety he loved the coleoptera as much as the flaunting glories - of the lepidoptera, and it took us a long time to go through it, for each - treasure was safely put away in its own box. We made for my camp to find - Ralph in the seventh heaven of delight because he had brought down a - hartebeest that Cecily had missed—missed on purpose, she said, to - give him the pleasure of bagging it. Anyway, there lay the trophy, a - present, Ralph said, for me. I thanked him profusely, because our - collection was not overdone with this variety. - </p> - <p> - I do not really admire this antelope very much, or perhaps I should say I - admire it less than any other, since every antelope has some points of - undoubted beauty. Their faces are what baulk me. They are so silly - looking, like a particularly inane cow—a cow’s face, and yet not a - cow’s face, and though very massive and magnificent in the fore they pan - out to nothing in the hind quarters. The horns, set in sockets, are hardly - ever the same, curving this way and that way,’ as cow’s do. Hartebeest are - the quickest goers in all the antelope world. They are never spoken of by - the natives by any other name than “sig.” And this is odd, because in - other varieties I frequently heard the correct designation. - </p> - <p> - The best of friends must part, and we were no exception to the rule. - However, we buoyed ourselves up with the notion that it was not to be for - long. For the second time the opposition shoot watched our departure, but - this time we all had an interest in the affair—very different to the - almost animosity that actuated us at the start. <i>Souvent femme varie</i>, - and man too. - </p> - <p> - Our caravan got on the move once more. The <i>harns</i> were not well - filled because we had used up all the water, whoever it belonged to, and - this made it necessary for us to march as swiftly as might be. We took on - three of the most terrific treks, for length and weariness unsurpassed. - The track was fortunately good, but the dust was absolutely blinding, - blowing before the wind in clouds, and once or twice during the march I - had the tent pitched that we might rest awhile in a slightly clearer - atmosphere. Our small quantity of water was used almost at once, and the - last march on the Haud was a forced one indeed. We lumbered on long after - darkness had fallen, and reached some wells, apparently free, about eleven - o’clock. The men formed a rough zareba, but we were all too tired to - trouble much, and after watering the animals by the light of the watch - fires we had supper and turned in. - </p> - <p> - The Haud now was safely over, and before us lay the great ascent of the - Golis range. The gradual rise began to be felt after the second day’s - march. We saw numerous Speke’s gazelle, and Cecily bagged a fine male, - after a prolonged chase, that took her some miles from camp. I was nearly - out of my senses with toothache, a grievous pain indeed, and one so - impossible almost, under the circumstances, to cure. Dentistry was beyond - us. - </p> - <p> - For two days I trekked in a state of semi-delirium. I got no peace at - night nor by day, until at last I hit on a glorious panacea. We had - finished a huge day, and on turning in for another sleepless night I - decided to drink enough whisky to paralyse me <i>and</i> the tooth. A very - little spirit overcomes me. I mixed half a tumbler full of whisky with - precious little water—drank it—and knew no more till morning! - </p> - <p> - The thing worked like a charm. The tooth had given over aching, and bar a - dark brown taste in my mouth I was none the worse for my carouse. - </p> - <p> - We saw a couple of oryx out early, and dashed off after them. Ponies were - of no use now, and had to be left behind. I crawled along such stony - ground I wore down to my bare knees in no time, and then only got within - range as the oryx sped away again. They sailed so gracefully over the - rough ground, and no obstacle barred their way. Cecily was posted on a - small rise beneath which the oryx passed, and got in a telling shot, - running down to see the result. We were exceedingly foolish in what we - did, after all the experience we had too. Seeing the oryx was hard hit we - ran towards him, and he who looked at first like dying as suddenly rose to - his feet and ran towards us head down for the charge, his whole weight set - for the blow. Perdition catch our stupidity! Did we not know the strength - and power of those rapier horns? Cecily was taken back with the onslaught - for a moment, and then dashed precipitately behind a clump of aloes. I - dropped on one knee to try and get a surer shot, to rise next moment to - dodge and flee. My very ignominious flight was my cousin’s opportunity. - The buck followed me, she followed him, and getting in a close raking - shot, finished what looked like the commencement of an ugly affair. This - was our last oryx of the trip, and a very fair specimen. The skin of his - neck was quite half an inch in thickness, a veritable armour-plate. I did - not know until later that the best and most desired shields are got from - the neck skin, the shoulder providing the second quality only. - </p> - <p> - Higher and higher we climbed each trek, the going much slower now. The - camels took their time over the so far simple ascent. We sighted gerenük - many times, both when riding alone and with the caravan. Many times we - pursued them, and as many times returned discouraged. Stalking was a very - difficult business here, the bushes all grew aslant, and the buck had a - perfection of balance unknown to us. One try of Cecily’s very much amused - us. She got a chance at a gerenük, after a stiff pursuit over hill and - down dale, fired, and the kick from her rifle overbalanced her as she - clung with uncertain feet to the hillside, and she slid like an animated - toboggan downwards. Goodness knows where the gerenük or the bullet went - to. - </p> - <p> - We camped on a beautiful range one night, where a small plateau seemed to - invite us to rest awhile. The sun was just setting, and the mighty - mountains around were bathed in a roseate glow. It was a most perfect - scene. The camp that night was like a biblical picture—the sleeping - camels, the recumbent forms of their drivers, and over all a sky of such - wondrous blue dotted with stars innumerable. - </p> - <p> - Next the sublime is always the ridiculous. Another camel man fell sick - here, but his case was not really genuine, I verily believe. Cecily and I - feigned to have found among our things a medicine of most marvellous - properties, warranted to cure in one dose all the ills that flesh is heir - to. Quinine was its name really, and Clarence dosed the Somali with it, - and the curative effect was at once apparent. - </p> - <p> - Jackals were here very plentiful, too much so for our peace and quiet. - They came prowling round the camp in ones and twos seeking for what they - might devour. I shot one at night on hearing a crunching sound near by. I - rushed out of the tent in terror lest the half-dry rhino was furnishing a - succulent meal. We had no thorn zareba in these days, and the watch must - have belied his name. The stealthy prowler passed behind our tent, and I - got a clear shot between his gleaming eyes. Far too near! I blew the - jackal’s head to smithereens, and damaged its beautiful coat considerably - also. The whole camp awakened then and buzzed with excitement, until the - men knew the nature of the animal that had come in on us. When it was - discovered that the intruder was a mere jackal matters quieted down - considerably. It was no credit to them that it wasn’t a leopard. I - lectured the parody of a watch severely next day, and as we were getting - to an end of the trip our lightest words had immediate effect. It was - quite odd. - </p> - <p> - The thickness of the aloe jungle here was immense, and to penetrate it was - impossible, though constantly we longed to do so, as we heard mysterious - rustles n the density. - </p> - <p> - Our mileage was next to nothing these days, and our marches desperate - slow. But a camel won’t be hurried. - </p> - <p> - We had a day in the ravines, picking up the caravan at a given place, - taking Clarence and the second hunt with us. We ventured down a perfect - abyss clothed at the bottom in aloe jungle. It was most difficult to keep - upright at all, and we took some glorious tosses. The worst thing to - contend with was the hunter’s habit of carrying Cecily’s rifle pointing - straight at the person who happened to be struggling along in front. It - gave me the creeps to watch him. However improbable an accident may be, we - know they do happen in the best regulated families. At last, as repeated - telling him did no good, we relieved him of his load. He may have had some - method in his madness. - </p> - <p> - We heard a crackle of the aloes, and two koodoo passed in view, going - fairly hard. We hadn’t a look in, for they vanished before we realised - they were there. We crossed from ravine to ravine, and came on any amount - of koodoo spoor, and leopard, the latter some two days old. At last, as we - were giving up dispirited, sitting down to recover our breath, a small - koodoo bull passed below us, at a distance of some two hundred and thirty - yards. It was ridiculous to wait for a slightly improved position, there - wouldn’t be one, and as meat was very scarce with us these days, I had a - try for him. I really aimed in front of the bull, averaging the pace at - which he was travelling, and pressed the trigger. It was written in my - Kismet book that I might not do freak shots of this kind with success. The - koodoo saved his venison, and a sort of groan went up from the greedy - hunters. Two hundred yards is really the limit of a sporting shot or - chance, and at that distance you cannot make out the animal’s ear clearly—my - invariable test. A down hill shot is the one most likely to fail, because - it is so difficult to judge distance horizontally, not vertically. - </p> - <p> - We had a huge climb for it back to our camp, which we saw perched high - above us, our tent looking a mere white speck on the sky-line. Once as we - skirted a thick bunch of foliage and undergrowth we heard a leopard - “cough.” We pulled up, and listened awhile, but could hear no more of him. - Firing the place was no use. The smoke might hang about, there was little - air in these ravines, and it might be impossible for us to see clearly. We - were really tired, and very unenthusiastic, so let the matter go. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XX—THE LAST PHASE - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch’d - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - With rainy marching in the painful field, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And time has worn us into slovenry, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - King Henry V - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>t 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. - </p> - <p> - Next day one of our hunters heard of a neighbouring <i>karia</i> 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. - </p> - <p> - Cecily and I went to the <i>karia</i>, 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 life. Any easily avoided disaster is accepted in this - fashion. - </p> - <p> - The head-man gave us all the particulars. A leopard had indeed entered the - <i>karia</i>, killed a sheep, and then left the carcase. We begged for the - remains, and for a consideration got them. Clarence bestowed them at the - foot of the rise in open ground, by a brake of aloes and thick cover. The - men set about constructing a “machan” in the jungly place, and kept guard - till sunset, when Cecily and I took the job on. We climbed into our - refuge; it was intensely rickety, and rocked every time we made the least - movement. I was no more enamoured of this sort of sport than before, and - suppose we were doing it because we felt the trip being so nearly over it - was foolish now to miss any chance whatever. For once in a way we were - both rather uninterested, a fatal frame of mind in this sort of an affair. - We were bitterly cold, and I could hardly hold my rifle at all. Hours - seemed to drag along, minutes really. I had to strike a light, whatever - the consequence, to ascertain the time. It was 12 a.m. Oh, for bed and - this sort of sport at an end! Another weary silence. I slept, I believe, - with one eye open. Then an ominous rustle, and a lightning whirr and rush, - succeeded by a blank silence again. Whatever had happened now? We listened - and gazed attentively, but no more sounds reached our straining ears. Over - all the jungle brooded a stillness that could almost be felt. Then Cecily, - whose sight is better than mine, said it was plain to be seen even in the - blackness that surrounded us that the carcase of the sheep was no longer - there. After that, what a weary night. We did not care to risk getting - out, and there was no good to be done in staying in. The dawn broke at - last, falsely at first, and dark gray shadows fell again to flee away - before the all conquering sun, who rose in splendour, gilding the lofty - ranges with tips of gold and red. - </p> - <p> - We pushed our way out, not waiting for the men to come and let us free, - and the whole show, unable to hold up any longer, fell over with us. It - was very badly put together, and would have been a pantomime protection in - case of stress. We were dishevelled looking before, and worn out for want - of sleep, but we were objects by the time we had fought our way from out - the collapsed “machan.” We followed the pugs of the leopard till they - disappeared in impenetrable bush. He had taken his victim to a safe - stronghold. But we weren’t to be worsted so easily. When Clarence appeared - we asked him the best plan for dislodging the cat, who must be gorged now, - and a little overdone. Our shikari said he would order some of the men out - and try to beat the place. I asked him to take the .35 Winchester himself, - and use it if he could. Then began a lively morning. The men beat the - place with their spears in sort of flying rushes, dashing forward, then - dashing back, and at last, as we really made the radius of the place - smaller, we heard a continuous snarling, like that a domestic cat makes - when it has a mouse in its paws, only this was much more vicious and - sounding louder. - </p> - <p> - I stood close to the jungle, and Clarence begged me to stand a little - farther off. This I did not care to do. The men were not armed, bar their - spears, and it seemed unfair to expose them so without giving them the - protection of one’s rifle. Cecily was doing the same thing on her side of - the brake, where the men were spearing bravely and shouting lustily. We - fired into the undergrowth, but it was of no avail; still the ominous - snarling kept up, still the animal would not break cover. I made up my - mind I would try and see if I could not get a shot into him somehow, so I - took on the silly job of crawling very slowly down the rough trail made - through the dense bush by the dragging of the sheep. I came on its remains - almost at once. The leopard, where was he? Then I saw it in one brief - second. What a face of rage and fury! I dare not fire. I backed hurriedly, - getting clear of the place, and then fired twice into the very place where - I judged the leopard lay up. A rush. Out he came, rather from the side, - looking like a fiend let loose. I was glad we were not bang in his path. I - could not get a shot in at all, for one of the hunters, in the warmth of - his earnest efforts, put himself in my light. There was Cecily, she blazed - away; there was Clarence, whose rifle spoke, but I heard his bullet strike - a rock behind. The leopard, with lithe swinging bounds, was up the clefts - of the ravine in a moment. I threw up my rifle and had a try for him. No - result. He was lost to sight. Four of the men went to the top of the - ravine and descended carefully, reporting the leopard to be in a sort of - cave between two boulders. We must get there too, of course, which would - be a prodigious bit of climbing. Cicely said she was confident her bullet - told; I know mine didn’t. We reached the spot where the animal was - ensconced, and there, sure enough, we could see, if we stooped, his - crouched shoulders, head dropped on paws, eyes gleaming defiance. He was a - foe to be afraid of, and I <i>was</i> afraid for consequences. The men - were in such dangerous positions, and all of us had such insecure - foothold. In case of a charge from the leopard one or more would certainly - go over the rocks to the bottom of the gorge, a very nasty fall indeed. I - made up my mind I would finish it. I walked as carefully as I could - towards my enemy, rifle ready, expecting the very worst every minute. I - drew a bead on its head. Fired! A moment of such intense anxiety. No - movement. We advanced cautiously. The great cat was dead. A passive ending - indeed. - </p> - <p> - By all the laws of first blood he belonged to Cecily. She had got him very - much indeed, in the base of the spine. He was done for when I shot him, - and it is questionable if he had the power to move at all. Indeed, his - ascent of the place, wounded where he was, seemed to us a wonderful feat. - The men extricated the beautiful thing; he was somewhat aged, with old - teeth, and skin much scarred and seamed with fighting. The head-man from - the <i>karia</i> was very much delighted, for he insisted the leopard was - one for whom they had long looked to make an end of. He had struck down a - Somali, who was only saved by the spears of his friends. The yellow danger - lurked in rocks, and would, from all accounts, probably have developed - into a man-eater. We were glad to have finished his career. - </p> - <p> - All the flies in all the world seemed to join in at the skinning, and we - went back to camp, breakfast, and a bath of sorts. - </p> - <p> - We rested that day, seeing to all the trophies, the new acquisition - included, instructing the men where to rub the skins and where not. Taking - them all round, every specimen was in good condition. - </p> - <p> - We progressed during the evening hours as long as the light held. The - climbing was now quite a big thing, and for one step forward we seemed to - go two back. A sounder of wart-hog crossed our front, and Cecily bagged a - small sow, quite by mistake, but it was the animal’s own fault for growing - tushes. This freak occurs often, and I don’t think one can be blamed if - accidents happen through this mistaken habit. Accidents always do happen - when femininity adopts the attributes which are the prerogative of the - masculine gender. Anyway, the pig was a great luxury in the way of a - change on the daily menu. Of course we had to dress it ourselves—a - bit of a set back. We fried some chops for supper that night, and smiled - to ourselves as we thought we could almost rival Chicago for quick - despatch. - </p> - <p> - The next big undertaking was the negotiating of the Upper Sheik, a big - affair indeed, and we set off with not a few qualms as to our success. The - foremost camel looked as though if he fell he must carry all the others - with him in swift rush downwards. We took care to lead the van. - </p> - <p> - “The morning was one of God’s own, done by hand, just to show what He - could do.” We climbed up and up, painstakingly and ploddingly, and - presently saw the rugged way over which we had come far below us. We had - then been marching close on two hours, and must have done less than four - miles. A little lonely <i>karia</i> was perched on a terraced outlook away - to the west, its inhabitants strolling out lazily to watch our progress. - Half a mile or so off was the Sheik Argudub’s tomb, a white dome-shaped - structure, glinting in the sun, and looking for all the world like a - replica of some massive wedding-cake. The whole scene was now grandly - picturesque in the extreme, and gaining the top of the pass a wondrous - panorama lay spread at our feet. Wealth of colour sprang voluptuous around - us: here a mass of green merging to purple, there pale tints of cream and - brown, aesthetic and delicate. Everywhere great ravines yawned, black and - mysterious. Farther off, the vast Marmitime Plain, and miles on miles - away, thirty or more, a tiny dark blue riband, fringing the whole, told us - that the sea was there. Valleys, ravines, mountains, rivers too, helped - out the beauteous scene, and above all, rising superior, was Mount Wager, - mightiest of all the Golis. - </p> - <p> - We camped in this delightful place, overlooking a vista I can never - forget. Preying vultures kept watch over infinite space, in widening - circles. A hot wind blew through the camp. Here at last, for the moment, - we could see about us without that smoke-like dust to curtain all things. - The light of the setting sun limned clear the mighty peaks, and brooding - night swept gently down the slopes and wrapped the world in sombre garb. - The wild eerie grandeur of it impressed me greatly, and I simply could not - leave our terraced plateau, but beneath the arch of the stars sat on and - marvelled. Then, as though by some special arrangement of Providence for - our good entertainment, a mighty storm brewed itself sullenly away over - the Marmitime, then crept insidiously to the Golis, and broke in majesty. - The bombardment lasted for an hour or more, reverberating through every - pass and every ravine; the heavens were alight with wondrous flashes, that - rent the air in forked spears, striking down to the depths of the darkest - crevass. - </p> - <p> - We were as safe outside the tent as in, I think, but nowhere very safe, - the lightning grew so close. Some of the men got under <i>herios</i>, some - even under the standing camels, a nice Juggernaut to run the risk of - bringing down on one’s devoted head. Then, gradually the wildness passed, - and spent itself in deep-tongued mutterings and distant murmurs. Then came - the rain, Somali rain, and we had to shelter. Cecily’s treasure had made - us our inevitable nightcap—tea—before the streams of water - drenched his fire. Thanks be! - </p> - <p> - I pictured in my mind the days when herds of elephants roamed the Golis - valleys, and the lion woke the still ravines with resonant sound. Alas! - this place will know them no more. - </p> - <p> - The Sheik Pass is, of course, christened after the old gentleman who is - buried in the wedding-cake arrangement, and not very far from our camp was - an immense cemetery where many thousands of people are buried. Clarence - took us also to the ruins of a one-time city, now covered with grass and - aloe growth. How ancient the place is I cannot say with accuracy, but it - looked very ancient indeed. Not far away at the Upper Sheik is a large - Somali village, a Mullah settlement, and the Sheik there, a very - enlightened person indeed, told us that the remains of the city are not - really very antediluvian, and is the site of the homes of the early - settlers from the Yemen. As we neither of us knew anything about such - influx we kept silent, to conceal our ignorance. Quite a lot of the - tracery on the stones which satisfied un-archæological people like - ourselves is nothing but decorative work carved by the shepherds trying to - kill time! - </p> - <p> - Being comparatively near Berbera and “civilisation,” the pass being a kind - of high road to Brighton, this Mullah saw a good deal of Europeans, and - spoke a little English. We presented him with a Koran, a <i>tusba</i>, and - a couple of tobes—the last of the Mohicans—and so our - reception was exceedingly cordial. The Mullah was an elderly man, but it - is exceedingly hard to guess ages “out there,” and his face was deeply - lined, his eyes were very jaded. When the conversation, engineered by - Clarence as usual, began to flag I cast about in my mind for a suitable - remark, which I placed carefully. He would just wait for me to make - another, and seemed to have no inventive faculty of his own. At last I - said I hoped all his wives were well. The Mullah tersely said he had none, - and relapsed into silence again. This was a set-back that took some - getting over, but I gathered myself together sufficiently to say I trusted - the forlorn condition of things was temporary only, and that when he had - some wives they would keep well. Cecily pulled my sleeve, and whispered I - was getting on very badly. “You try then,” I said huffily. - </p> - <p> - She asked him how many cattle he owned. Oh, hundreds. Would we like some - milk? - </p> - <p> - “I hope he didn’t think I was hinting!” murmured Cecily abashed. But we - did look forward to a good drink of cow’s milk. When it came we could not - manage it, for the milk tasted so horribly. I think the milking vessels - must have been dirty. - </p> - <p> - In this settlement they made large quantities of <i>ghee</i> for sending - down to Berbera, and the whole atmosphere seemed more business-like and - agricultural than most Somali <i>karias</i>. Quite a crop of jowâri - cultivation brightened the plateau ground around, and farming seemed to be - thoroughly understood. Many herds of sheep, watched over by women and - children, whitened the hills. A goat of acumen and intelligence led each - band, and they were not driven from the rear, with the consequent going in - the wrong direction every time that attends the moving of a flock of sheep - with us. The shepherdess walked in front, the tame goat followed, and the - sheep came wandering after. They were exceedingly fat sheep, and our men - revelled in the grease that ensued after the cooking of two presented to - us by our friend the Mullah. - </p> - <p> - The hot <i>karif</i> wind here blew hurricanes for a couple of days, and - tents would not stand against it. We tried to keep them up, but the - anxiety of the prospect of one’s house about one’s ears kept us awake, and - the next night we had a sort of circle made of all our boxes and luggage - generally, and slept inside the ring with the gale blowing great guns over - our heads. The <i>karif</i> is part of the Haga season, July and August, - and we had met it, only less furiously inclined, on and off lately. It - springs up at night, and you may go to bed with not a breath stirring to - wake to feel the tents straining at its moorings. The sand blows before - the wind in clouds, and the best way to combat it is to precipitate - oneself face downwards until the swirl of grit has passed for the time. At - the height of the Golis the <i>karif</i> is not usually prevalent, keeping - its attentions for the plains. And we were delighted that each morning as - the day advanced the wind of the night spent itself into a pleasant - refreshing breeze. - </p> - <p> - Just where we pitched our camp was a reserved area for game, so we - descended next morning, minus the hunters, to lower country, down the - remains of elephant trails. They are not so amazing to me as the tracks of - the bison—extinct, or practically extinct anyway—one comes on - in some parts of Montana. I remember one in particular that I thought was - the ancient bed of some great river, so wide and deep was it. And yet - thousands of bison passing over it to drink daily at a lake in the - vicinity had made the wondrous track. But I’m digressing, and that badly. - </p> - <p> - A couple of agile wild asses raced along a little pathway cleft in the - side of the ravine above us, the dislodged 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. - </p> - <p> - 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. - </p> - <p> - 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 of a distant klipspringer. Down I went, and oh, how I prayed - Cecily would keep quiet, and not set a dozen stones a-rolling, for she had - not sighted the prize. I threw up my rifle and took careful aim. The - klipspringer was off. It perched again on a spiky summit. Bang! sounded to - the astonishment of Cecily. The little buck took a header clean off its - halting place, and turning somersaults fell a hundred feet or so. We slid - and ran and fell after it. I made certain its horns would be broken and - useless, but, thank goodness, we found them intact. I had hit the - klipspringer fair and square in the heart, and its rough olive-coloured - coat was hardly marked. The little straight horns of this trophy measured - three and three quarter inches. The females are hornless. - </p> - <p> - Then came the difficulty of packing our prize back to camp—our camp - in the skies. First we sought a stout branch, and then tied the hollow - rounded hoofs of the little klipspringer to it. We always went about with - our pockets stuffed with cord and useful things, the sort of things a - woman in peace times would not find useful at all. Then we lifted - together. What a mighty weight for so small a thing! The rests we had, the - slips downhill, the tempers we got into, are they not all graphically - described in my diaries of the day in the following terse but meaning - words: “I shot a klipspringer at the bottom of a ravine. Cecily and I - carried it back to our camp in the Upper Sheik ourselves.” Simple words, - but fragrant with meaning. - </p> - <p> - Near camp the waiting Clarence met us, and we gladly turned over the - klipspringer to him. It was indeed a charming trophy, and we were - intensely happy at having procured one of this species. Our excursion had - about put the finishing touch to our garments, which were already on their - last legs. We were literally in rags, and had come down to our last suit. - Time had indeed made us slovenly. - </p> - <p> - If the ascent of the Upper Sheik had been a big matter, what shall we say - about the descent? It was a very serious matter, but Cecily and I laughed - and laughed, and hugely enjoyed ourselves. The proceedings of a barrow - load of stones tipped over the edge would have been graceful to us. I - tried the going down for a short way on my pony, but speedily resolved - that if I must die I would at least do it with some degree of dignity, and - not be hurled into space in company with a wretched, if well meaning, - Somali tat. The camels, one by one, went on before us; it would have been - vastly unpleasant to go before. Westinghouse brakes are what they wanted, - Somali camel men are what they got. Clinging on to the already - overbalanced creatures, backing, pushing, shouting, rarely have I seen a - more amusing sight. The ponies practically tobogganed down, and the - accidents were many. One box full of provisions fell off a heaving camel, - burst open, and all the provisions spread themselves as far and as widely - as ever they possibly could. I scooped up all the coffee I could find, as - it was the last we had. We drank it as “Turkish” afterwards, grits and - all, and thus got it down with more liking. - </p> - <p> - At the bottom of the pass we called a halt for a much-needed rest, and - looking back one wondered however we had made the journey down so - successfully. The camels seemed none the worse, but one pony, my erstwhile - steed “Sceptre,” had gone very lame. We were now in big timber country, - and for the first time for an age saw water running, and not stagnant. We - took off our boots and stockings, and went in at once, only sorry that - propriety would not allow a total eclipse. We could not leave that blessed - brook; I really cannot dignify it by the name of river. - </p> - <p> - Camp was formed here, but a zareba was no longer a necessity. All that day - we drowsed away the hours, wandering about among the trees and chasing - butterflies. It was quite an idyllic day. - </p> - <p> - Next morning we left camp, thoroughly fresh and game for a big tramp. We - took our way up a rocky gorge that led us towards the Marmitime. The - scenery everywhere was still of the most exquisite description, vastly - different to the sun-dried plains we had traversed so short a time ago. - Walking was not easy, and we made a great clatter of stones as we passed - along. Our noise startled a small creature we had not noticed before, so - much the colour of the ground was he. He sprang from rock to rock with - surprising agility, and poised for a moment ere he took off again like - some light-winged bird. We excitedly started in pursuit, and I was almost - certain we should lose him. Cecily vowed she must risk it, and I did not - think it mattered very much anyway. The gazelle seemed to me lost. - </p> - <p> - My cousin waited for the creature to rest a second, and then did what I - consider the finest shot of the trip. She brought her quarry down from a - great height, two hundred and ten yards at least, smack, to a little - grassy knoll beneath, stone dead. I patted her on the back. It was a - wonderful and never-to-be-forgotten achievement. We had no end of a - difficulty to reach the place, and arrived, our joy knew no bounds. It - might be said of our trip as of the life of King Charles, that nothing in - all of it so much became it as the ending, for this, our last trophy of - all, proved to be the somewhat rare Pelzeln’s Gazelle. It is not at all - rare in the Marmitime, I believe, but necessitating a special expedition - there to bag one. The gazelle had quite good horns, topping eight inches. - He was fawn in colour, darker on the back, with a black tail. The females - of this species carry horns also. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0355.jpg" alt="0355 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0355.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - I stayed up in the rocks on guard until Cecily brought Clarence and one of - the hunters to do the carrying of our treasure, Cecily and I having gone - out of that business. - </p> - <p> - In camp now the greatest activity reigned, the men working so very - willingly, taking no end of pains with the heads and skulls and skins. And - the cook, Cecily’s cook, made us weird hashes and tea till we feared for - our digestions. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XX—END OF THE GREAT SHIKAR - </h2> - <p class="indent15"> - Approved warriors, and my faithful friends - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Titus Andronicus - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Then must I count my gains - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Richard III - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - And so I take my leave - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Midsummer Night’s Dream - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>t last Berbera in - the distance. At last the one remaining night in our tent—over. At - last the final breakfast in the open—over. Then the outskirts of the - town, and then Berbera itself. - </p> - <p> - The leader of the Opposition and Ralph met us almost at once, looking - quite respectable and clean. They said they had been waiting right there - for two days for fear we should come unwelcomed. We put up at the old - familiar rest-house in the European Square, and our camels and <i>impedimenta</i> - generally camped in front of us. Our first dinner in “civilisation” did - not please us half as much as the culinary efforts of Cecily’s <i>chef</i>. - Roast chicken with flies is not, after all, so appetising as badly cooked - oryx, served up with hunger sauce, and at least, in the jungle, we escaped - that last resource of the average cook when she can’t think up a pudding—stewed - rhubarb. I wonder if there is a country where the weed can be avoided? - Here it was again, a mass of flies and fermentation, singing away to - itself in a little dish. - </p> - <p> - After dinner we sat outside the bungalow fighting battles o’er again, and - regretting, oh, with such an ache of longing, the jungle and the wild. - That night we hardly slept at all. We missed the camp sounds, the grunting - camels, the sound of the fires being piled, we missed the open—all! - We stretched out longing arms and touched a wall! We paced a floor that - was not ground. - </p> - <p> - Everything in the world comes to an end. How sad that is sometimes! How we - longed to turn the hands of the clock back, and Time with it! - </p> - <p> - Next day we joined our camp again, and began to make arrangements for its - disbandment. We had come in at a bad time—camels being a drug in the - market. The leader and Ralph disposed of theirs by public auction, but - there could not be much of a demand for any more at this time of the year. - Our beasts were in a very fair condition, all things considered, but we - had great difficulty in getting rid of them. At last Clarence produced a - dirty old Arab, whose appearance gave one the idea he had no means - whatever, but of course this is not peculiar to Arabs, for some of our - home millionaires are afflicted in the same way. The old gentleman - bargained and bargained until I almost let the creatures go at 30 Rs. - apiece, but Ralph arrived at the crucial moment and put a different - complexion on the matter. He rushed into the discussion with vigour, and - called the offer piracy, robbery, and things of that sort. I never could - have been so personal myself. The Arab did not seem to think any worse of - my kinsman for it, and the camels changed hands at the much improved price - of 35 Rs. apiece. - </p> - <p> - The ponies were practically given away, and I had no end of a difficulty - to unearth a philanthropist willing to board and lodge “Sceptre.” We only - just got rid of our camels in time! That very evening the sportsman - arrived in Berbera whom we had left cogitating at Aden. His wife was going - stronger than ever, and her temper was, if possible, <i>worse</i>. He had - not lost her. What a wasted opportunity! Their caravan had taken a - completely different route to ours, having been to the Boorgha country and - round by the Bun Feroli. Their trophies were very fine and numerous, and - the kindly old shikari showed them to us with great pleasure and pride. He - managed to be a sportsman in spite of Madam, not, I am sure, by her aid. - She was a Woman’s-Righter, and like Sally Brass, a regular one-er. - Regardless of the plain fact that we must all be hopelessly ignorant of - home affairs, she worried our lives out of an evening to discover our - trivial, worthless opinions on all sorts of political questions. It was - very amusing to hear Cecily artfully trying to conceal her dense - ignorance; we listened to them one night after dinner, and Madam, who - probably knew as little of the subject as her victim, desired to know what - Cecily thought of Mr. Chamberlain’s fiscal policy. My cousin did not - enlarge, so that her lack of knowledge was overwhelmingly apparent. She - shook her head solemnly, and said darkly, with grave emphasis, “What - indeed!” - </p> - <p> - Now, “What, indeed!” can cover a multitude of things if said just as it - should be. Put the accent on both words, and try it next time you are - cornered. - </p> - <p> - I know Madam regarded us four as a ribald crew, and kept her fickle smiles - only for “the Leader,” whom she desired to propitiate because his place at - home adjoined hers, and as the old shikari meant to put up for Parliament - at the next election, Madam saw a faint chance of securing a vote. We got - a great deal of amusement out of her wiles and blandishments. One day in - between the camel-selling and general disbandment we had much difficulty - to repress our mirth, as we heard the warrior being tackled something like - this. - </p> - <p> - “Of course, Major,” very suavely, “I can count on <i>your</i> vote?” - </p> - <p> - “I ought to say ‘Of course’ too. But what precisely are your husband’s - political views?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he hasn’t any. Except on big game shooting.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that simplifies matters, anyhow,” said the officer, musingly. - “Could you tell me if he holds with an eight hours’ day?” - </p> - <p> - “I expect so.” Then added, as an afterthought, “What—er—what - kind of a day is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” answered the no-wiser warrior, “an eight hours’ days is—er—an - eight hours’ day.” - </p> - <p> - “To be sure,” in a tone of great relief. “How <i>silly</i> of me! I should - persuade my husband to have any kind of day his constituents most - preferred.” - </p> - <p> - “But imagine,” put in Cecily, “if they all wanted different!” - </p> - <p> - “There are three hundred and sixty-five days in the year, I believe,” said - the offended lady, frigidly. - </p> - <p> - The old husband was much more likeable, and we got on well with him when - we were allowed a look in. He had a pretty wit, and told stories in an - inimitable manner, though not always of come-in-with-the-fish variety. - Indeed, some of his anecdotes could better have made an <i>entree</i> with - the curry. I dare say so much camp life had roughened him a little. When - Madam waxed sarcastic, and scornfully told him a tale was too far fetched - he would say quite good-humouredly he could never fetch his stories from - far enough, as he was for ever seeing the light of auld lang syne in some - eye. He had that best and most useful of gifts, the power to say things <i>apropos</i> - at just the right moment. Most of us think them up afterwards when it is - too late. Such a power is a gift worth having from the gods, just as - malapropisms come from another quarter. - </p> - <p> - The traveller’s bungalow affected to put us all up. Ralph said it was - affectation merely, as the place was so crowded out he slept with his feet - through the window! - </p> - <p> - Anything that was likely to be of the least use to him we gave to - Clarence, to his great joy, and his choice did fall on some quaint things. - An ordinary English axe was his first selection; he passed over the native - ones in lofty scorn. In addition to these few simple gifts we decided to - bestow on him, as a mark of our immense appreciation of the good work - done, our spare 12-bore, in order that he might go out on his next shikar - with every degree of safety. Such a present overwhelmed our follower by - its magnificence, and he was almost too excited to speak, or express his - thanks. At first he did not realise we meant to give it, and it was very - pleasant indeed to watch his face as the wonderful truth dawned on his - mind. - </p> - <p> - The rest of our men filed past us as we stood ready to pay them by the - side of the tent that had been our home for so long. Every man got his - bonus of money, and a little present besides from the stores, and we shook - hands all round. I think we all felt the same regret at parting. Absurd as - it may sound, the saying “Good-bye” to these rough followers of ours was a - sentimentally sad business. - </p> - <p> - “What days and nights we’d seen, enjoyed, and passed.” And truly few - travellers had been better served. Clarence was immensely anxious to go - home with us, and become, I don’t quite know what, in our household. He - spoke to me very seriously about it. - </p> - <p> - “Yu welly good people,” he said; “me go to Englan’ all same you.” But - England and Clarence could never amalgamate, and we had to explain to him - we would all look forward to meeting again in Berbera some day. - </p> - <p> - Cecily gave my Waterbury to the cook—a cheap way of giving a - present, as I told her; but she had to give him a useful mark of her - appreciation, she said, and her own watch was broken. I said farewell to - this personage more in sorrow than in anger, and he went off winding his - Waterbury as hard as he could go. - </p> - <p> - Clarence helped us pack the trophies in great cases, a big piece of work, - and one that took us right up to the time of sailing. We counted our - gains, and found that they included rhino, lion, leopard, harte-beest, - dibatag, gerenük, oryx, aoul, Speke’s gazelle, klipspringer, Pelzeln’s - gazelle, wart-hog, hyaena, jackal, wolf, ostrich, marabou, dik-dik, and - one or two other varieties of game and birds. As for our losses—well, - I was assured the Baron was no loss at all. For on being guided by - Clarence to the filthy abode in the native quarter where the Baron’s - family resided, I was given to understand that his removal was a source of - gratification to them all. The amount of money owing him, and a little - over, which I tendered apolegetically enough, instantly caused the very - memory of the ill-fated man to fade away. Our other follower, who died - naturally, with no assistance from us, directly or indirectly, did not - appear to have any belongings. - </p> - <p> - And so the great shikar ended, and for nearly four months and a half we - had lived in tents, and played at being nomads. - </p> - <p> - Every one of our men came to the quay to see us off, Clarence carrying his - rifle, the cook still winding his watch. We all shook hands over again. - </p> - <p> - “Salaam aleikum, Clarence.” - </p> - <p> - “Aleikum salaam, Mem-sahibs.” - </p> - <p> - Salaam. - </p> - <h3> - THE END - </h3> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Two Dianas in Somaliland, by Agnes Herbert - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO DIANAS IN SOMALILAND *** - -***** This file should be named 54501-h.htm or 54501-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/5/0/54501/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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