Naturalists and others represent the hippopotamus as of a mild and inoffensive disposition. It may be so in regions where it is unacquainted with man; from the numerous unprovoked attacks made by these animals on voyagers, and the very great dread entertained of them by the Bayeye, who, so to say, live among them, I am inclined to believe they are not quite such harmless animals as we are given to understand. In ascending the Teoge, I saw comparatively little of them, and used almost to ridicule the natives on account of the timidity they showed when these beasts made their appearance. But on my return journey I very frequently encountered the hippopotamus. More than once I narrowly escaped with life, and found that the men had good reason to fear a contest with this truly formidable animal.
In regions not much visited by the European hunter and his destructive companion, the firelock, the hippopotamus appears as a comparatively fearless animal, not unfrequently abiding the approach of man, whom he apparently surveys with a curious and searching look, as much as to say, “Why this intrusion upon my native haunts, which I have enjoyed in undisturbed tranquillity from time immemorial?” But man is cruel, and by his relentless persecutions a nature, once unsuspicious and confiding, is soon changed to that of the most timid and circumspective, causing the animal to take instant refuge in the water on hearing the least noise.
The sagacity of the hippopotamus is very considerable. Indeed, if we are to credit the testimony of Plinius, the cunning and dexterity of this beast is so great that, when pursued, he will walk backward in order to mislead his enemies. “The habits of the animal,” says Dr. Andrew Smith, “are opposed to our becoming intimately acquainted with it; yet, from what has been noticed of its adroitness in guarding against assailants, in avoiding pits dug purposely to entrap it, in conducting its young both in and out of the water, and in migrating from localities which it may have discovered are not to be longer held without serious danger to others not exposed to such inconveniences—even though to reach those it may require to make long journeys—are all evidences that it is far from the stupid animal it has been frequently described.”
It is asserted that if a hippopotamus be shot dead just after calving, the offspring will immediately make for the water, an element which it has never yet seen!
Its memory is also considered good. “When once a hippopotamus,” says the author just quoted, “has been assailed in its watery dwelling, and injured from incautiously exposing itself, it will rarely be guilty of the same indiscretion a second time; and though its haunts may not again be approached by hunters till after a long period has elapsed, it will survey such approaches, and perform the movements necessary for its respiration with a degree of caution, which clearly shows that it has not forgotten the misfortunes to which an opposite course had exposed it.”
The hippopotamus is gregarious, and is usually found in troops of from five or six, to as many as twenty or thirty. It is amusing to watch these animals when congregated; to see them alternately rising and sinking, as if impelled by some invisible agency, in the while snorting most tremendously, and blowing the water in every direction. At others, they will remain perfectly motionless near the surface, with the whole or part of their heads protruding. In this position they look, at a little distance, like so many rocks.
The hippopotamus is a nocturnal animal, and seldom or never feeds except during the night. He usually passes most part of the day in the water, but it is somewhat doubtful if this be not rather from necessity than choice. Indeed, in more secluded localities, one most commonly sees it reclining in some retired spot: “He lieth under the shady trees, in the covert of the reeds and fens. The shady trees cover him with their shadows, the willows of the brook compass him about.” Or it may be under shelter of an overhanging dry bank; or, at least, with its body partially out of the water. I have not unfrequently found the animal in this situation, and once shot an immense fellow while fast asleep, with his head resting on the bank of the river.
When, from fear of enemies, the hippopotamus is compelled to remain in the water throughout the day, it takes the shore on the approach of night in order to feed. Just as it emerges into the shallows, it has the peculiar habit of performing some of the functions of nature, during which it keeps rapidly thumping the surface of the water with its stumpy tail, thereby creating a very great noise. I have known from twenty to thirty hippopotami thus occupied at once; and, to add to the din, they would at the same time grunt and bellow to such a degree as to deprive our party of the rest that exhausted nature but too much needed.
During the nocturnal excursions of the hippopotamus on land, it wanders at times to some distance from the water. On one occasion the animal took us by surprise, for, without the slightest warning, it suddenly protruded its enormous head within a few feet of our bivouac, causing every man to start to his feet with the greatest precipitation, some of us, in the confusion, rushing into the fire and upsetting the pots containing our evening meal.