The Eastern Congo 



heard the loud plucking sound made by a feeding hippo. 

 Upon turning a clump of bushes, the cause of all this commo- 

 tion came into full view, resembling nothing so much as a 

 war tank. 



He was feeding unsuspiciously in the centre of the clearing, 

 so advancing as near as I dare I took a low aim, as I always 

 do when shooting at night, and fired. The " tank " now 

 showed surprising agility, and rushing towards the lake 

 with the speed of an express train, was soon to be heard 

 diving away into the water, where we found him " toes up," 

 next morning. As I said, when I went forward I left my 

 wife with the cook, who, instead of carrying out my instruc- 

 tions and following me, induced my wife to take a roundabout 

 way to see the fun, with the result that partly owing to the 

 incommodious garment she was wearing preventing free 

 movement, she was nearly run over by the hippo in its dash 

 for the water, and reached camp properly scared, vowing 

 she would never, as long as she lived, go hippo hunting again. 



I had some quite novel experiences when filming hippo 

 on the lake. The great drawback to successful photo- 

 graphy there was the fact that in the morning, when the 

 animals were sleepy and most easily approached from the 

 shore-side, the sun was right on the camera lens, necessitating 

 placing the heavy camera in a very insecure position on a 

 wobbly canoe and approaching the sleepy animals from the 

 lake or water-side. After several attempts of this kind I 

 decided that the work was too dangerous and it would be 

 best if I confined my efforts to the security of terra firma, 

 until our " whale-boat " arrived from Kasindi. 



Every afternoon, therefore, I would hide in the reeds 

 by the lake side near the basking hippos, in the hope that 



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