CHAPTER LXXV

ZANZIBAR--SHOOTING HIPPOPOTAMI

[Sidenote: 1860. Aug. 18.]

Arrived at Zanzibar. Having expressed a wish to see the hippopotamus in his native state, Speke, being aware of my weakness, kindly invited me to accompany him to where sport was almost a certainty. It was necessary to procure a dhow, on board which a party could live.

[Sidenote: Aug. 19.]

Our proposed trip soon got wind. An unusual noise throughout Sunday night on board the Sultan’s yacht was accounted for in the morning by one Captain Mahomet informing us, which we had been well aware of, viz. that he had been all the night bending sails, and half the morning bastinadoing his crew; he stated he had received orders to convey me across the channel.

[Sidenote: Aug. 21.]

From this infliction I, however, excused myself, as well as from that of the company of the half-civilised, drunken rogue who commanded her. Through the kind influence of Colonel Rigby, Luddah, a Banyan, British subject, and head of the Customs, placed at our disposal a new dhow, with a captain and fourteen Arabs. Hoping to expedite their movements, Speke, Heneage, and myself embarked on Monday night, so as to start early the following morning; but at that time we were not as experienced in Arab movements as we have since been. It commenced raining soon after we got on board, and on our taking shelter below we found the deck overhead leaked, and the stench from the bilge water sickening. We got under weigh at 10 A.M.; at 5 P.M. anchored in an extensive bay off a village called Kesooku. About the bay were shoal patches of sand and several small islands with mangrove bushes, over the roots of which the tide flowed when up; it was on and about these islands that we expected to find our game.

We were welcomed to the village by a Bombay Banyan Chief. Having given us a refreshing drink from green cocoanuts, he cleared out part of a store hut for our accommodation. We made up our beds outside on stretchers under the shade of the projecting roof.

It appears that the habits of the hippopotami are to land at night for food, betaking themselves to the retirement of the small islands before break of day. Such unwieldy brutes cannot travel on shore without leaving marks, by which they are easily traced, and generally return to the water by the same paths. As they are never molested by the natives, we thought we might intercept them before they went to rest, and intended to be up at 3 o’clock, but it rained and our native servants neglected to call us. We went later to try for guinea-fowl, which were said to be plentiful and excellent eating. A covey of them was seen but not got at.

Our next plan was to proceed to the patches of islands in the bay, so as to reach them before low water, about which time our experienced friend, Speke, considered that the hippopotami would be more likely to be caught napping or basking in the mud. We approached the islet with caution.

[Illustration: _A right and left shot._]

I shall not forget the first wild hippopotamus I saw: a huge ugly brute, standing up to his middle in water, apparently indifferent to our approach, until within fifty yards, when he moved leisurely towards some rocks where the water was deep and disappeared. On rounding the rocks, we opened on an extended sand-flat and observed several Sibuko, half in the water, with one fine fellow standing separate. To the left, and within forty yards of him, was a small clump of trees. As soon as our boat grounded, took up my position, as prearranged, on that side, and stalking under shelter of bushes, got pretty close, with a rest for my gun. Speke and Heneage had spread out to the right, so as to cut off his retreat that way to the sea. Within forty yards, when I thought they were quite ready, I fired _my first shot_. The monster seemed more astonished than hurt, although a stream of blood from the side of his neck showed where my ball had told. While he hesitated, the others broke away in a parallel direction to that I was moving in. They were close together, the head of the Hippo nearest to me being a little in rear of the shoulder of his companion. Had my double-barrel smooth-bore ready. It does not often fall to the lot of man to get right and left shots at a brace of hippopotami. I took the nearest; hit him just behind the ears, struck the spine, and brought him on his knees. The thick skull of the other turned my second ball.

Instead of dropping, as I expected, he took a survey of the ground, hesitated a minute, eyed his dying chum, and made a rush to the path where I stood. With all due deference, I made a move out of his way, fell backward, gun going off.

Before I was on my legs I heard Speke’s gun: Sibuko had had his quietus. I now seated myself on the root of a tree near where my first Sibuko lay; while contemplating the monster, I felt a drop of blood on the back of my hand, and looking up, found that I had shot the dark native who carried my spare ammunition, he having taken refuge when the Hippo No. 2 made his charge in my direction. We got the poor fellow down, moaning and crying; found the ball had passed through the fleshy part of his thigh without touching the bone. The next day he was taken across to the hospital. After a few days and a small donation he was ready and willing to be shot at again! The dead Sibuko was given the natives to eat: it was curious to see how cleverly they cut the flesh, or rather the fat, before taking the skin off, beginning at the backbone and cutting straight down in strips about four inches square, apparently to me of solid fat, and portioned according to the number in a greedy family. Of course I retained the head, which, with the other, was recovered from the natives and buried in the hot sand; after a few days they were taken out sweet and clean, the latter operation performed by white ants. They now occupy, or ought to, a place in the Winchester Museum.

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