102 IN BRIGHTEST AFRICA 
One of those whose “‘huge ungainliness is like that of 
a shape in a nightmare” is the hippopotamus. The 
small dugout in which the native makes his way up 
and down the Tana River is just a nice mouthful for 
him. He can splinter one between his great jaws in 
no time if he is sufficiently stirred up, but fortunately 
for the natives he is not easily enraged. He is more 
or less like the rhinoceros except that, while he is 
equally stupid, he rarely gets mad and so is not often 
dangerous. 
Along the Tana River in 1906 the hippos were 
still very abundant, and I presume that a hunter 
passing along that stream to-day might shoot all he 
could possibly want. Although I saw probably only 
a small proportion of all I actually passed, I counted 
more than two hundred in a ten-mile march along 
the Tana. Sheltered by the rather high and precipi- 
tous banks of the river, the hippopotami if undis- 
turbed bask quietly on the sand-bars during the day. 
If one is disturbed, he takes to the water, leaving 
exposed only the top of his head, his eyes, and nos- 
trils, so that if he remains motionless one usually 
has to spend some time to determine whether the 
object protruding from the water is a hippo’s head 
or a slate-coloured rock. If really frightened, he 
submerges entirely, exposing only his nostrils and 
those just long enough to blow and take in a fresh 
supply of air. Then down he goes, not to appear 
again for several minutes, frequently in quite a differ- 
ent place. 
Cuninghame and I had a good opportunity to test 
