THE HIPPOPOTAMUS 87 



To and fro, backward and forward, the wretched 

 hippopotamus was urged without a moment's 

 rest or respite, until at length, quitting 

 the water, and still dragging the massive log 

 behind him, he bounded over the sands and 

 shallows, his pursuers running in nimbly one by 

 one and inflicting thrust aiter thrust with their 

 long, lance-like spears. Goaded almost to mad- 

 ness, and already in evident distress, the poor 

 beast made for the high banks, hoping, no doubt, 

 to gain sanctuary ashore ; but between the sand- 

 banks of the river and the reed-crowned river- 

 banks above, a belt of soft mud occurred, into 

 which his short legs sank. No sooner did he 

 reach this than a score of natives flimg themselves 

 upon him. He made one furious effort to extri- 

 cate himself, but, dragged back by the ponderous 

 float, and weakened by loss of blood, he sank down 

 at length and was speedily dispatched. 



For my own part, the hunting of the hippo- 

 potamus, unless one attack him from a boat, 

 lacks the least trace of sport. From the bank of a 

 river the himter's position is one of perfect safety, 

 and he can fire away his last cartridge in the fullest 

 certainty that he has nothing to fear. All that 

 is required is elementary care and a powerful 

 rifle, and enough of these immense animals may 

 be shot to glut the appetite for slaughter of even 

 the most bloodthirsty. 



