UP THE RIVER OF TAPIRS 139 



as soon as the swimmers reached the shore they were put 

 on the tapir's trail and galloped after it, giving tongue. 

 In a couple of minutes we saw the tapir take to the water 

 far up-stream, and after it we went as fast as the paddles 

 could urge us through the water. We were not in time 

 to head it, but fortunately some of the dogs had come 

 down to the river's edge at the very point where the tapir 

 was about to land, and turned it back. Two or three of 

 the dogs were swimming. We were more than half the 

 breadth of the river away from the tapir, and somewhat 

 down-stream, when it dived. It made an astonishingly long 

 swim beneath the water this time, almost as if it had been 

 a hippopotamus, for it passed completely under our canoe 

 and rose between us and the hither bank. I shot it, the 

 bullet going into its brain, while it was thirty or forty yards 

 from shore. It sank at once. 



There was now nothing to do but wait until the body 

 floated. I feared that the strong current would roll it 

 down-stream over the river bed, but my companions as- 

 sured me that this was not so, and that the body would 

 remain where it was until it rose, which would be in an hour 

 or two. They were right, except as to the time. For over 

 a couple of hours we paddled, or anchored ourselves by 

 clutching branches close to the spot, or else drifted down 

 a mile and paddled up again near the shore, to see if the 

 body had caught anywhere. Then we crossed the river 

 and had lunch at the lovely natural picnic-ground where 

 the buck was hung up. We had very nearly given up the 

 tapir when it suddenly floated only a few rods from where 

 it had sunk. With no little difficulty the big, round black 

 body was hoisted into the canoe, and we all turned our 



