[In the Heart of Africa by Samuel White Baker]@TWC D-Link book
In the Heart of Africa

CHAPTER VIII
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He ploughed his way against the broken waves, sending them in showers of spray upon all sides, and, upon gaining broader shallows, tore along through the water, with the buoyant float hopping behind him along the surface, until he landed from the river, started at full gallop along the dry shingly bed, and at length disappeared in the thorny nabbuk jungle.
I never could have imagined that so unwieldy an animal could have exhibited such speed; no man would have had a chance of escape, and it was fortunate for our old Neptune that he was secure upon the high ledge of rock; for if he had been in the path of the infuriated beast there would have been an end of Abou Do.

The old man plunged into the deep pool just quitted by the hippo and landed upon our side, while in the enthusiasm of the moment I waved my cap above my head and gave him a British cheer as he reached the shore.

His usually stern features relaxed into a grim smile of delight: this was one of those moments when the gratified pride of the hunter rewards him for any risks.

I congratulated him upon his dexterity; but much remained to be done.
I proposed to cross the river, and to follow upon the tracks of the hippopotamus, as I imagined that the buoy and rope would catch in the thick jungle, and that we should find him entangled in the bush; but the old hunter gently laid his hand upon my arm and pointed up the bed of the river, explaining that the hippo would certainly return to the water after a short interval.
In a few minutes later, at a distance of nearly half a mile, we observed the hippo emerge from the jungle and descend at full trot to the bed of the river, making direct for the first rocky pool in which we had noticed the herd of hippopotami.

Accompanied by the old howarti (hippo hunter), we walked quickly toward the spot.


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