Some great beast who had been standing unnoticed within a few yards of the boat, crashed through the bushes into the water with an uproar that woke the sleepers.
"What is it ?" cried Compton.
Mr.Hume made a dart for his rifle.
The Okapi rocked and heaved, was lifted at the bows to fall back with a splash.
"Hippo," gasped Venning, making a drive with his weapon through the mosquito curtains.

"Got him!--no!--missed!" "What's that you've got there, Venning ?" "Sort of harpoon." "By gum!" said Mr.Hume, taking the weapon, "I'm glad you missed the beggar.

I would not give much for our chances if he turned crusty in this place." The hippo reappeared aft with a snort, and, much to their relief, continued down the channel into the wider waters.
"Find the watch pleasant ?" asked Compton, sleepily, as Mr.Hume turned in.
"Awfully cheerful," said Venning, earnestly; "but I'm not selfish, and you can take your turn at it on the tick of the hour." Compton dived for his rugs, and Venning once more returned to his duties with his harpoon over his knees, and a string of winged visitors entering joyously by the hole he had made in the curtain.
He pinned his handkerchief over the rent to stop further free entrance, then made war on those which had entered--an amusement which carried him well into the fourth and last hour of the first watch.

Then he sat up to listen for the old sounds--the groans and the snorts--but they had ceased.

A mist, like a wet blanket, had settled down over the Okapi, over the islands and the river; and, though any sounds made on the water were startlingly distinct, confined as the sound-waves were by the mist, the creatures had evidently gone to sleep.