HIPPOPOTAMUS. 125 



trotting toward deep water. The hunter, with quick aim, 

 wounded a large cow, the ball striking the skull. The animal 

 commenced plunging furiously round and round in a frenzy of 

 agony ; a second ball only increased her misery and fury. 

 Anxious to bring his game nearer the land, Mr. Cumming then 

 threw off his heavier clothing and plunged into the water, and 

 armed only with a long knife rushed upon the beast ; seizing 

 her short tail he vainly tried to steer her landward. The tail 

 was a poor rudder ; cutting a slit in the strong hide, he found a 

 securer hold, and ultimately brought the huge behemoth to the 

 shore, when it required the full strength of a brace of splendid 

 oxen to land her. She measured, by his account, five full feet 

 across the body. Floating along this stream the interminable 

 roar of the lion forces that animal on our thoughts continually, 

 and not unfrequently his majestic form, passing through the 

 neighboring brush and matted reeds, excites the deepest interest. 

 It is barely possible that the great explorer whom we are follow- 

 ing through these wildernesses was hardly the man to rightly 

 estimate this, or any of the ferocious monsters of the land. 

 Livingstone was not a hunter; while not wanting in skill or 

 courage to meet lions or elephants, he had no delight in the 

 field. His mission was with men ; his lesson must be one of 

 kindness ; he must inculcate a lofty moral courage ; necessarily 

 almost, his habits of thought and life taught him indifference to 

 all that was purely animal ; he could not appreciate the features 

 in these wild creatures which filled other men with awe and 

 wonder. He, for instance, only thought of the lion as the great 

 dog of the forest ; he could discover no majesty in his roar, no 

 special dignity in his bearing. He was quick to perceive what- 

 ever was gentle and loving and intelligent, but the sterner, 

 wilder, cruel features did not impress him as they would men 

 generally ; and though he may have been correct in his estimate 

 of the lion's courage measured by his lofty standard, it cer- 

 tainly possesses a sort of courage which has made all sportsmen 

 think of lion-hunting as, perhaps, the most serious of all the 

 delights of wilderness life. It requires the greatest coolness 

 and skill, when once a lion is wounded and thoroughly at bay ; 

 every moment is precious. Mr. Anderson, in his " Wilds of 

 Africa," narrates an incident in which his want of experience 



