The first shot was received with very little attention by the herd; but the struggles of the dying animal I had hit, which turned over several times and finally sank to the bottom, seemed to rouse the others, who began to plunge about and dive down into deep water. The blood of my victims discoloured the water all around, and we could not see whether those who escaped were not swimming for us.
Presently the canoe received a violent jar, and, looking overboard, we perceived that we were in the midst of the herd. "The hippopotami are coming upon us!" shouted the men; "they are going to attack us!" We pulled out of the way as fast as we could, none of us being anxious to be capsized. It would have been a comical sight to see us swimming in the midst of a flock of hippopotami, and some of us, perhaps, raised up on the back of one as he came to the surface, or lifted, maybe, with his two crooked tusks in our body.
We were soon out of the way, and looking back to see where were the animals I had killed, I saw nothing. They had sunk to the bottom, and of the three, only one was recovered. It was found two days afterwards on a little island near the river's mouth. Seeing this, I resolved never to shoot hippopotami while they are in the water, for I did not want to kill these animals for nothing; I wanted their skins and their skeletons to enrich our museums.
Some time after Joe had died, I determined to go on a night hunt after hippopotami. These animals come ashore by night to feed.
The Fernand-Vaz runs for many miles parallel with the seashore, separated from the sea by a strip of sandy prairie. On this prairie the hippopotamus feeds. He is sometimes called the sea-horse, for when his head is out of the water it looks from a distance exactly like the head of a horse. The "walk" of a herd is easily discernible. It looks very much like a regular beaten road, only their immense footprints showing who are its makers. In their track no grass grows. They always return by the same path they go out on. This gives the hunter a great advantage.
I chose moonlight night, and paddled up to the vicinity of one of these "walks." There Igala, my hunter, and I set out by ourselves. I had painted my face with a mixture of oil and soot, which is a prudent measure for a white hunter in Africa. The beasts there seem to have a singularly quick eye for anything white. I made myself look exactly like Igala. We both had black faces and black hands. I was dressed in the usual dark suit of clothes for the night; people there must not go hunting in light-coloured garments. We chose the windward side of the track, for the hippopotamus has a very keen scent, and is easily alarmed at night, feeling, probably, that on land his sluggish movements, huge bulk, and short legs have their disadvantages.