CHAPTER XVI
THE NGOOBOO, OR HIPPOPOTAMUS
One day a big ngooboo, or hippopotamus, looking fondly at his mate, said: “Dear, what a pleasant home we have. Our shoal is surrounded by deep water. We swim and dive around it, and enjoy ourselves in the broad river. The animals of the forest cannot come and attack us; the water is too swift for the crocodiles, and though the huge njokoo loves to bathe, he does not dare to disturb us, for he only fights on land. Even if he did attack us, we could dodge him and his big dangerous tusks by diving and remaining under the water out of his sight, for he cannot dive. Besides we could attack him and lacerate him with our big, crooked, hook-like tusks.”
Then he laughed in the fashion of the ngooboos, opening his enormous mouth and showing his tusks. “We could not,” he continued, “have chosen a better spot for a home. On one side of the river is the big forest, on the other is the extended prairie, where we go every night to graze and enjoy the juicy and succulent grass, unless we scent danger and think it wiser not to leave the river, in which case we have to dive and eat the grass growing at the bottom.”
Looking affectionately at Mrs. Ngooboo, he then uttered a grunt and snort which meant, “I love you dearly.” He admired her greatly. He thought the rosy gray of her skin was the most beautiful he had ever seen, and her form the most graceful of figures. The ngooboos believe that they are handsomer than all other creatures, and that their ponderous, clumsy bodies and short, ugly legs are very lovely. The ngooboos are in nowise more conceited than all the other animals, each kind thinking itself the handsomest.
One of the peculiarities of the ngooboos is that each family owns its shoal. It is their castle, and no other ngooboo is allowed to land there, and if they try, there is a fight; but when in the water they are friendly with one another. Each ngooboo knows his own shoal.
The ngooboos forming the colony were about thirty in number, including the babies. When they stood, or were lying on their shoals, their heads and backs were above the water, and their bodies looked like huge, stranded logs. Sometimes at a certain angle their heads looked like the heads of horses, hence the white people call them hippopotami, which means river horses.
“Do you remember, dear,” resumed Mr. Ngooboo, “when we migrated and came to the river in company with two other couples who live on yonder shoals? We were driven from our former homes by human beings, who had settled on the far-off prairie, made traps to ensnare us, and succeeded in capturing several of our number. At last we did not dare to land any more, so we concluded to leave the place and emigrate to some other country, and travelled until we discovered this beautiful river with its big prairie. Now we have prospered and increased in number, for this land has not many human beings.”
[Illustration: [Hippopotamus]]
“I remember it well,” replied Mrs. Ngooboo, looking fondly at her mate, coming near him and putting her head close to his. Then the two looked at their dear little baby, who was very tiny and only a few weeks old, and thought she was the sweetest little baby ngooboo they had ever seen, as well as the most beautiful. She had such lovely eyes, such a cunning little mouth, and she was so intelligent for her age,—in a word, she was such a wonderful baby that there was no other little ngooboo like her.
The big ngooboo here took a plunge, remaining under water for a while, and reappearing on the surface, quite a way off from his shoal. Then he called to his mate, by peculiar grunts and snorts, which is the language of the ngooboos: “Be careful of our baby, for the current is swift.”
Hearing the call of her mate, Mrs. Ngooboo plunged into deep water and swam toward him, watching the baby carefully all the while, and the baby, when tired, would come gently and rest on the back of her mamma, who was delighted.
In a short time they were by the side of Papa Ngooboo. They took a swim, then ascended the river to their shoals. After they had rested a while, Mr. Ngooboo said to his mate: “Dear, our feet are so shaped that we can both walk on land and swim. Our straight and crooked tusks allow us to get the grass at the bottom of the river. We are so built that we can stay under water a long time.”
The colony of ngooboos had a good time. They would play in the water, dive, and swim, often run after one another, and all this time the young ones were learning the wisdom belonging to the ngooboos.
Once in a while a troop of monkeys who were travelling would look upon the ngooboos from their trees, on the wooded shores of the river, and would say, “We have never seen such an ugly creature in our lives.”
Watching the ngooboos from among the thick trees lining the banks of the river were the small yellow osengi monkeys with their long tails, and their bosom friends, the hornbills, with their great beaks several inches long.
[Illustration: [Hippopotamus]]
The osengis and the hornbills are great chums; indeed, they seem to be inseparable. So that when other birds of the forest see first the osengis, they say, the hornbills are near; if they see the hornbills first, they say, the osengis are not far off, and food is plentiful, and berries and fruits are to be found; and if they feed on these, they say, let us follow them, or go ahead of them.
How such friendship happens to exist between these two, no one can tell. It is the more unselfish in that, though they eat the same food, they never seem to quarrel about it. Sometimes the osengi would discover food first, sometimes the hornbills. “Kee, kee,” the osengis would often say plaintively to the hornbills, as they followed them; but the hornbills were always silent, never uttering a note, because they did not want other birds to know where they were.
The little osengis love the neighborhood of rivers, whose banks they follow in their wanderings; they like to sleep on the branches spreading over the water. When birds or animals see them, they say gladly, if they are thirsty, “Water is near, for we see the osengis.”
Every evening it is the custom of the ngooboos to land and pasture on the prairie; they generally land two or three hours after the sun sets, that is, between eight and nine o’clock.
At such times there is a great deal of grunting and snorting among them. They talk to one another, and each snort or grunt has a meaning. The ngooboos are very suspicious when they go on shore, for they do not feel at home on land as they do in the water.
Some ngooboos were now seen ascending and descending the river, going to their respective landing-places, for they are accustomed to land at the same spot every night and follow the path they have made.
After the ngooboos had approached their landing-places, they swam silently to and fro, to see if they could scent any danger. Once in a while the subdued snort of the leader was heard, saying, “Not yet, we must wait a little while. We must make sure that the coast is clear,”
At last a very peculiar snort was heard by the followers of the leader, signifying, “Now be ready, we are going to land.” And all the ngooboos swam silently toward him after they heard this.
Then the old leader, who had led them many a time, landed, and entered the path. Each ngooboo landed in turn, and they all followed him in single file, going to the place where they pastured.
One of the great faculties possessed by the ngooboos, as well as by most if not all the ruminant animals, is that they can see as well during the night as they do during the day.
The moon had just risen, and threw its dim light upon the ngooboos, as they walked silently following their leader, their huge bodies looking strange as they walked in single file. They appeared like supernatural creatures wandering in the prairie.
The mboyos (jackals) and the hyenas, as they scented the huge creatures, said, “Let us keep out of the way of the ngooboos,” and made off. After proceeding a few miles, the ngooboos reached their browsing place of the day before. As they were eating, the big ngooboo, their leader, gave two or three gentle snorts, which meant, “Look yonder far away, there is a herd of niarés [buffaloes].” All the ngooboos looked and saw the buffaloes and said: “We are not afraid of the buffalo; they cannot toss us in the air as they do njegos or human beings. Next to the njokoos, we are the heaviest and biggest creatures of this land. Besides, their horns are so placed on their heads that they cannot pierce our bodies. We are not afraid of them, for their way of fighting is to charge and toss. If these buffaloes dare to attack us, we will lacerate and cut their bodies with our crooked and sharp tusks.”
At the same time they all opened their mouths and laughed. Ugly and formidable indeed were their tusks, which weighed four and five pounds each. Then they gave grunts of defiance which the buffaloes heard, and straightway walked off, saying, “The ngooboos are coming our way, but we can run faster than they, and they cannot catch us.” They also laughed in their turn and said, “Catch us if you can, ngooboos, with your clumsy bodies and short legs. You will get tired before we do.”
The ngooboos continued to pasture, enjoying their night meal. That night the grass seemed very juicy and good to them. Suddenly they stopped browsing. They scented danger. They looked in the direction where the scent came from and saw coming from a cluster of trees a large herd of njokoos. The leader grunted, saying to his followers: “Here are the njokoos. How ponderous and powerful they are! How small we are compared with them! No creatures possess such strength. They can also walk or run much faster than we can, for their legs are longer than ours. Look at the huge tusks of some of them.”
Soon the leader, who had been attentively observing the herd of elephants, said: “The njokoos are coming our way. Let us go back as fast as we can to our river, for we cannot fight the njokoos on land; they would charge and pierce us with their big tusks and kill us.”
“Yes,” said all the ngooboos, “it would not be pleasant to be impaled and get those big tusks between our ribs.”
The ngooboos went back to the river as fast as they could, their leader hurrying them on. But the scent of the njokoos became stronger and stronger, and thus showed the ngooboos that the njokoos were nearing them, and they did their best to run still faster. At last they came to the river and plunged into its water and in the course of time reached their different shoals.
There they felt strong. They all laughed and said, “Now we are at home in the water and can fight the njokoos.” But they added sadly, “What a pity that we did not get our full night meal, the grass tasted so good!”
It is the custom of the ngooboos living in this river to cross the prairie and bathe in the Atlantic Ocean two or three times a year. The prairie was bounded on one side by the river and on the other by the sea.
One day it was agreed among all the families of ngooboos that they should go to the beach the following night, and enjoy themselves swimming in the surf if the sea was not too rough. So when night came the ngooboos landed and began their journey toward the seashore.
[Illustration: “_How they enjoyed their sea bath_”]
It was full moon and the journey to the ocean was made without mishaps. One family after another arrived on the beach. The ngooboos were greatly excited. They talked among themselves. There was great rejoicing among them. They sniffed the sea breeze and looked at the surf and at the broad sea before them and wondered why there was not a shore on the other side as on the river. They tramped around on the beach for quite a while.
Then the leaders of the different families said to their followers, “Let us go into the sea.” They grunted and snorted on the way, walked slowly through the surf, and losing their footing began to swim, though they did not dare to go far. They grunted loudly and threw water several feet high through their nostrils, as they did on the river.
They had a grand time. How they enjoyed their sea bath! How they laughed! Their loud snorts and grunts were heard by all the creatures in the neighborhood.
After they landed, they said to each other, “What fine fun we had in the sea!” Then they went to the prairie and grazed, and enjoyed their meal heartily. Gradually they wended their way back to the river, which they reached toward four o’clock in the morning, when each family went to its shoal.