The hippopotamus--that enormous pachydermatous creature whose shape reminds us of the antediluvian monsters--was formerly met with over a large part of Africa, but it has been so pitilessly pursued by hunters that it is every day becoming scarcer and scarcer. Within a hundred years, perhaps, the hippopotamus will be numbered among the vanished curiosities of the animal world. In this article a French sportsman describes his exciting experiences while in quest of “river horses,” and furnishes a number of very impressive photographs. [Illustration: MALE AND FEMALE HIPPOPOTAMI ON THE BANKS OF AN AFRICAN RIVER. _From a Photograph._] Not many months ago the habitués of the Jardin des Plantes, the Paris “Zoo,” were much astonished to notice that one of their favourites--Jack, the hippopotamus--displayed signs of unwonted irritation. The change in the animal’s temper had been quite sudden. Hitherto Jack had been extraordinarily docile; now, whenever it became necessary to make him change his quarters, either for the purpose of cleaning the cage or to show him off to better advantage to visitors, he yielded with manifest surliness. Then there came a day when the keeper in whose charge Jack had been for a great number of years found it quite impossible to induce the animal to leave his bath for the open enclosure, beyond the bars of which a score or two of nurses and children were eagerly waiting to feast their eyes upon him. The more insistent the keeper grew, the more did it become evident that the great, unwieldy beast was determined to try conclusions with its human tormentor. On his side the keeper was equally obstinate, but blandishment being clearly of no avail he resorted to more convincing measures. Poor fellow, he little realized his danger! To the unutterable horror of those present the animal’s enormous jaws suddenly flew apart, disclosing a cavernous mouth and throat. By the time those jaws had closed again the unfortunate keeper had ceased to be numbered among the living!