Hunting in East Africa 



raft rise under my feet. Instinctively I remem- 

 bered I had but one .577 rifle, and hastened, 

 my hands trembling, to fasten it with a loose 

 rope's end to the raft. My boatman yelled 

 with terror, and at that fearful cry the raft 

 splashed back in the water and all was again 

 still. One of the hippos, either with his back 

 or head, must have come in contact with the 

 bottom of the raft as he rose to the surface. 

 How far he would have gone had not the 

 negro screamed I do not know, but as it was 

 it seemed as if we were being held in mid air 

 for many minutes. I fancy the poor brute was 

 almost as frightened as we were, for he did 

 not reappear near the raft. 



I now thought discretion the better part of 

 valor, and satisfied myself with shooting at the 

 animal from a somewhat greater distance. I hit 

 two more in the head and two — who showed 

 a good foot of their fat bodies above the water 

 — in the sides. None floated on the surface, 

 legs up, as I had been led to expect they would 

 do; but the men assured me that they never 

 come to the surface till sundown, no matter 

 what time of day they may have been shot. 

 This, needless to state, I afterward found, is 

 not true. My ammunition being exhausted, 



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