rike near the ear, rattle off the sides of this King of the Nile
like small shot. Sir Samuel Baker, the African traveller, relates an
encounter with a large bull hippopotamus which was taking an evening
stroll on the bank of the river, quietly munching grass. Baker and his
attendant were armed only with rifles. They aimed and fired, hitting as
near the ear as possible, but the great beast only shook its head and
trotted off. At the sound of firing the remainder of the party hurried
up, and poured a volley of musketry at the retreating beast, but the
hippopotamus walked coolly to the edge of a steep cliff, about eighteen
feet high, and with a clumsy jump and a tremendous splash vanished in
the water. As the flesh of the hippopotamus, which is said to resemble
pork in flavor, was much desired as food by the soldiers under Baker's
charge, he had a small explosive shell constructed, which, fired into
the creature's brain, seldom failed to leave its huge body floating dead
on the surface of the river.

[Illustration: FIGHT WITH A HIPPOPOTAMUS.]

The natives are very fond of hippopotamus flesh, and resort to many
expedients to secure the desired delicacy. Hunting this beast is
dangerous sport, for in the water it is master of the situation, and
will throw a canoe in the air, or crunch it to pieces with its terrible
jaws. In Southern Africa, Dr. Livingstone encountered a tribe of natives
called Makombwe who were hereditary hippopotamus-hunters, and followed
no other occupation, as, when their game grew scarce at one spot, they
removed to another. They built temporary huts on the lonely grassy
islands in the rivers and great lakes, where the hippopotami were sure
to come to enjoy the luxurious pasturage, and while the women cultivated
garden patches, the men, with extraordinary courage and daring, followed
the dangerous sport which passes down among them from father to son.
When they hunt, each canoe is manned by two men. The canoes are very
light, scarcely half an inch in thickness, and shaped somewhat like a
racing boat. Each man uses a broad, short paddle, and as the canoe is
noiselessly propelled toward a sleeping hippopotamus not a ripple is
raised on the water. Not a word passes between the two hunters, but as
they silently approach the prey the harpooner rises cautiously, and with
sure aim plunges the weapon toward the monster's heart. Both hunters now
seize their paddles and push away for their lives, for the infuriated