THE HIPPOPOTAMUS, OR RIVER HORSE 



sat down to await developments. Head after head popped 

 up all over in front of us, just long enough to exhale and 

 inhale, only to disappear again in the next moment. As we 

 kept perfectly still behind our screen, more and more of the 

 hippos began to show their whole foreheads above water, 

 and did not dive as quickly as before. 



Presently my gun bearer, Mwalimu, gave me a slight 

 nudge, and pointing to a big black hippo head on my left, 

 whispered: '' Huyu mmume mkubwa sana!" ("This one 

 is a very big male "). Up went my gun, a flash, a sharp 

 report, followed by a tremendous commotion in the river, 

 and then the stillness of the grave seemed to reign for 

 a while, until some distant snortings announced that all 

 the hippos had scattered up and down stream. Both the 

 gun bearer and I thought that we heard the bullet hit the 

 hippo's head, but it was impossible to tell this with any 

 certainty, for, as already remarked, if hippos are instantly 

 killed, they sink at once to the bottom of the river to reap- 

 pear in about an hour. As the waters of the Sondo in this 

 still flowing pool were rather warm, I expected that the 

 body would reappear in less than an hour. Looking at 

 my watch, I saw that it was exactly ii a.m., and so get- 

 ting the camera ready for any snapshots, if in the mean- 

 time any head would appear in the vicinity, I dispatched 

 some men to the bulk of the caravan to bring them down 

 to a level place, within some five hundred yards of the river. 

 There we made our camp for the night, as I knew it would 

 take considerable time to skin the hippo, even if we got hold 

 of him by twelve o'clock. 



To the surprise of us all, the body appeared above the 

 surface of the water like a dark, shiny hulk, at exactly 



97 



