This was very evident, for the hippo had, this time, risen so close to the boat that the boys thought they could feel his hot breath. The monstrous mouth was wide open, and the red throat, looking like some immense flannel bag, seemed yawning for them. The hippo could easily have crushed the boat amidships, and there was no time to back water. “Shoot! Shoot!” yelled Joe. “I guess I’ll have to!” cried C. C. Piper; “but it’s a last hope. I can’t stop him at such short range!” He dropped the oars and caught up the heavy elephant gun. Even in this excitement Blake continued to grind away at the camera, getting some views at close range. Then, thinking that the boat would be crushed, and wishing to save the machine and the rare films if possible, he caught up the apparatus and fled to the stern, leaving the actor-hunter a clear view. With coughs, grunts and groans of protest that his river home had thus been invaded, the hippo swam on. Now and then he closed the enormous jaws with a crunching sound, and at such times the lower jaws went under water, and when it was closed the water splashed out on both sides in miniature fountains. “Shoot, if you’re going to, C. C.!” yelled Joe. “Here goes for a slim chance!” cried Mr. Piper. At that moment the big beast again opened wide his jaws. He was but a few feet from the boat now, and the wave of his advance caused the craft to rock dangerously. Aiming directly down the big red throat, C. C. fired. The report of the heavy gun at such close quarters almost deafened the boys, and the recoil nearly tossed the hunter overboard. But he maintained his balance. Joe and Blake eagerly looked where the hippo had been. There was no need of waiting for the smoke to clear away, as the actor-hunter was using nitro cartridges, which were smokeless. “He’s gone!” shouted Joe. “He sank at the shot!” cried Blake. “I guess I did tickle his throat some,” remarked Mr. Piper, grimly. “That was a heavy bullet, and it must have gone clear through him.” “I wonder if you killed him?” spoke Joe. “Jove! if you did--at one shot. Let’s see if he’s a goner.” “No use to wait,” said Mr. Piper. “A hippo, when shot, whether mortally or not, sinks immediately. If it is dead it won’t float for nearly a day, and we can’t stay here that long. If he’s only wounded he’ll swim off under water and come up, the land knows where. No, we’re lucky to be rid of him so easily. I never thought I could stop him at such short range, but the bullet must have gone in a tender spot.” “Well, we got some dandy pictures,” spoke Blake, fervently. “That’s what,” agreed Joe. A distant whistle was heard, echoing faintly over the sluggish river. “That’s the steamer calling us, I guess,” said Mr. Piper. “Let’s get back.” Slowly they rowed out into the main lake, well satisfied with their adventure, and, now that the danger was over, almost forgetting it.