Soon after starting in the afternoon we had an adventure. The other boats had all passed on before us. The last one, with Mrs. Macdonald and the children, was just disappearing at a bend of the river. We were going nicely along, when I saw a hippopotamus coming towards us. I took up a rifle and had him ‘covered,’ but as he seemed peaceful I gave him the benefit of the doubt; and he disappeared again. After we had sailed down a little farther the boat got a blow that seemed to raise it out of the water. We were agreed that ‘Now that fellow must get a lesson,’ and we seized our rifles. But water soon rushed into the boat at such a rate as to direct our attention to another matter. I laid hold of a bucket and began to bale, but I found the task hopeless and urged the boatmen to pull hard. We were in the very middle of the stream, and the situation was most critical. It was really a question of life or death. We had always held a theory that if a hole were knocked in the boat we could stuff it, but theories are often difficult to practice. Before we could have reached the bottom of the boat, through all the bags and boxes, the necessity for stuffing the hole would have passed away. The natives rowed but feebly. They lose their heads in an emergency. It looked as if we were to sink on the spot. Mr. Moir at this crisis seized an oar and rowed with the strength of any four of them. I was told off to the helm; the baling being of no use. The boat rapidly filled with water—it was questionable whether we could reach the bank before it sank. The river here was very deep. One of the canoes saw our position and made towards us. However, we reached the bank just as the boat sunk. All the cargo was under the water and had to be fetched out. After the accident we held a short council. One was to stay with the boat and the other to go and obtain assistance from the rest of the party. Ultimately I went in a small canoe, but notwithstanding hard rowing I could not overtake the others. Sometimes the canoe found itself among herds of hippopotami, whose presence made me somewhat uncomfortable after the last encounter. Santos has the following account of these animals:—“The head of the hippopotamus is three times the size of our ordinary horse, and its body thick in proportion. What is extraordinary in this species of animal is their practice of destroying each other for food, whence it rarely happens that two are found together.” How much I could have wished on the present occasion to be able to confirm the last part of the Reverend Father’s remarks! But I found scores of them, all regarding my frail bark at the same time, so that they must have laid aside this inhuman practice of the 16th century! [Illustration: HIPPOPOTAMI AT HOME.]