OUR LAST HIPPOPOTAMUS. 336 



half out of the water, her eye had a wicked glare in it 

 that was not pleasant to see. 



Without a practical knowledge of the animal it is 

 scarcely possible to realise the difficulty and danger of 

 the task which was so successfully performed. Under 

 any circumstances it is not easy to pick up a hippopo- 

 tamus, however young. It weighs somewhere about 

 a hundred pounds, and its skin is as slippery as if it 

 had been dipped in oil. Add to this, that the floor of 

 the den is wet and smooth, offering scarcely any foot- 

 hold ; that the young captive kicks and yells with all 

 its power ; and that within a few feet is its infuriated 

 mother and some idea may be formed of the feat 

 which was achieved by those six men. Then no one 

 who has not seen the hippopotamus in one of her furies 

 can appreciate the risk that is run by any man who 

 goes into the den. She is quick and active beyond 

 conception, flies about like lightning, bellowing forth 

 roar after roar and making the building tremble. On 

 the present occasion her deafening roars did good 

 service ; for they completely drowned the cries of her 

 young one, and enabled the keepers to carry it off un- 

 heard as well as unseen. She can rear herself on her 

 hind legs in her attempts to get at a supposed enemy ; 

 and when her weight of three tons is brought to bear 

 upon railings which are not too strong, no small nerve 

 is required in treating such an animal. 



Now let us follow the fortunes of the calf. It was 

 taken quite to the other end of the Gardens, that its 



