260 A FIGHT WITH A HIPPOPOTAMUS 



gave the order for everyone to return to bed, as the 

 danger was past. 



But he had rejoiced too soon. In half an hour that 

 fearful splash was heard again, and with a rush the crea- 

 ture made for the boat. A bullet in his head stopped his 

 career just as he was upon it, and rolling and kicking, 

 apparently in his last agony, he was carried down stream. 



After he had floated about fifty yards he suddenly, to 

 the surprise of those who were watching him, pulled him- 

 self together, and returned slowly along the river bank, 

 which lay in dense shadow. The boat's crew waited with 

 their ears at full cock for some time longer, and then 

 decided that the beast had had enough, and that they 

 might go back to bed for the third time. Baker 

 followed their example, but kept the gun close beside 

 him. 



Unlike his men, he did not feel inclined to sleep, and 

 it was not long before everyone was again on his feet, 

 watching the enemy, who was splashing heavily across 

 the river so as to get a better chance for a rush. Now 

 was the opportunity for aiming at the shoulder, and as 

 the animal turned and his body was exposed, Baker lodged 

 a ball in his heart. This time he really was dead, and 

 tumbled into the river. 



Then they all went to bed again. Next morning they 

 examined his body- -which was covered with scars from 

 the tusks of his own species — for the fury of his onslaught 

 really looked more like madness than anything else. The 

 bullets had broken one of his jaws and cut through his 

 nose, but nothing except death could stop him from 

 fighting. As for the dingey, he had simply bitten out a 

 piece of its side, and would doubtless have done the same 

 to the larger vessel if he had been suffered actually to 

 touch it. 



