728 THE TROPICAL WORLD. 



one or the otber of them plunge and reappear, are seen dispersed over the troubled 

 waters. On glides the raft, its crew worked up to the highest pitch of excitement, 

 and at length reaches the herd, which, perfectly unconscious of danger, continue to 

 enjoy their sports. Presently one of the animals is in immediate contact with the raft. 

 Now is the critical moment ; the foremost harpooner raises himself to his full height to 

 give the greater force to the blow, and the next instant the iron descends with uner- 

 ring accuracy, and is buried deep in the body of the bellowing hippopotamus. The 

 wounded animal plunges violently and dives to the bottom, but all its efforts to escape 

 are as ineffectual as those of the seal when pierced with the barbed iron of the 

 Greenlander. 



As soon as it is struck, one or more of the men launch a canoe from the raft, and 

 hastening to the shore with the harpoon line, take a round turn with it about a tree, 

 so that the animal may either be brought up at once, or should there be too great a 

 strain on the line, " played," like a trout or salmon by the fisherman. Sometimes both 

 line and buoy are cast into the water, and all the canoes being launched from off the 

 raft, chase is given to the poor brute, who whenever he comes to the surface is saluted 

 with a shower of javelins. A long trail of blood marks his progress, his flight becomes 

 slower and slower, his breathing more oppressive, until at last, his strength ebbing away 

 through fifty wounds, he floats dead on the surface. 



But as the whale will sometimes turn upon his assailants, so also the hippopotamus 

 not seldom makes a dash at his persecutors, and either with his tusks, or with a blow 

 from his head, staves in or capsizes the canoe. Sometimes even, not satisfied with 

 wreaking his vengeance on the craft, he seizes one or other of the crew, and with a 

 single grasp of his jaws, either terribly mutilates the poor wretch or even cuts his body 

 fairly in two. 



The natives of Southern Africa also resort to the ingenious plan of destroying the 

 hippopotamus by means of a downfall, consisting of a log of wood with stones attached 

 to it to increase its weight, and a harpoon affixed to its lower end. This formidable 

 weapon depends from the branch of an overhanging tree by means of a line, which is 

 then made to cross horizontally the pathway which the hippopotamus is in the habit of 

 frequenting during the night, at a short distance from the ground. When the animal 

 comes in contact with the line, which is secured on either side of the path by a small 

 peg, it snaps at once, or is disengaged by means of a trigger. The liberated down- 

 fall instantly descends with the rapidity of lightning, and the harpoon is driven deep 

 into the back of the monster, who, bellowing with pain, plunges into the river, where 

 he soon after dies in excruciating torments. 



A few tropical animals, for which we have heretofore found no appropriate place, yet 

 remain to be considered. Foremost of these is the Camel. In many respects, the 

 vast sandy deserts of Asia and Africa remind one of the ocean. There is the same 

 boundless horizon, the same unstable surface, now rising, now falling with the play of 

 the winds ; the same majestic monotony, the same optical illusions, for as the thirsty 

 mariner sees phantom palm-groves rise from the ocean, thus also the sand- waste trans- 

 forms itself, before the panting caravan, into the semblance of a refreshing lake. Here 

 we see islands, verdant oases of the sea — there, oases, green islands of the desert ; 

 here, sand-billows — there, water waves, separating widely different worlds of plants 



