THE CRASH OF SPLINTERING WOOD. 325 



" It was the closest call we ever had," observed Bob, with a sigh of relief; " I'm 

 sure that for a minute or two we were in the greatest possible danger." 



" What says Pongo ? " asked Diedrick, still holding the pole motionless. 



" We safe go on fast ! " 



He obeyed his own suggestion by dipping his paddle deep in the current, and 

 the Hottentot, scarcely a second later, pressed the pole into the muddy bottom of 

 the river, his body almost horizontal from the strenuousness of his effort. 



At this instant came a sound as of rushing waters, and the head of the hippo- 

 potamus rose to the surface directly between the raft and the dug-out. It was so 

 close, indeed, that the paddle in the hand of the Bushman struck the grotesque 

 bulk and slipped off as if from a wet log. 



This involuntary act of Pongo drew the fury of the beast upon the smaller craft 

 The enormous head, with the hideous jaws distended, shot forward and caught the 

 end of the dug-out between them. Then they came together with resistless force, 

 crushing the hollowed log as though it were made of card-board. 



The crash of the splintering wood, the furious grunt of the behemoth and the 

 flying spray, all seemed to come simultaneously, and before the first step could be 

 taken to drive off the monster or to escape her fury. 



A wild cry, such as a man utters in mortal terror, came from the lips of the 

 Bushman, who dropped his paddle, caught up his gun and made a tremendous leap 

 far out into the river. He could swim like a water-fowl, and the instant he struck, 

 he went under until his feet touched the velvety bottom. 



He still clung to his gun, for, in his eyes, its value was scarcely less than his 

 own life, and, swimming as far beneath the surface as possible, he came up only 

 long enough to inhale what air was needed, when down he went again. He kept 

 his wits about him, and, instead of swimming aimlessly, worked toward the shore 

 which was the destination of the party. 



When he rose the second time, he glanced over his shoulder to learn whether 

 his foe was pursuing him. Nothing was to be seen of her, and, believing he now 

 held his fate in his own hands, he swam more leisurely; but he was continually 

 haunted by the dread that, after all, the hippopotamus was walking over the river 

 floor and keeping pace with him, with the purpose of rising when she was ready 

 and crushing him to nothingness in her prodigious jaws. 



Not until the feet of Pongo reached bottom and he scrambled out among the 

 reeds and grass, did he breathe freely. Then he uttered an exclamation of thank- 

 fulness and a prayer that his friends on the. river might be equally fortunate. 



It will be understood that at the moment the hippopotamus crushed the boat 

 between her jaws, the situation of Bob Marshall was scarcely less dangerous than 

 that of the Hottentot. In one respect it was not so bad, for he was seated m the 

 stern, while it was the front portion which collapsed like an egg-shell in the terrific 

 vise. Indeed, had Pongo been a whit less spry, his body would surely have been 

 crushed to a jelly. 



What Bob did will scarcely be believed when told ; nevertheless it is strictly 



