As soon as the position of the hippopotami is ascertained, one or more of the most skillful and intrepid of the hunters stand prepared with the harpoons, while the rest make ready to launch the canoes, should the attack prove successful. The bustle and noise caused by these preparations gradually subside. Conversation is carried on in a whisper, and every one is on the qui vive. The snorting and plunging become every moment more distinct; but a bend in the stream still hides the animals from view. The angle being passed, several dark objects are seen floating listlessly on the water, looking more like the crests of sunken rocks than living creatures. Ever and anon, one or other of the shapeless masses is submerged, but soon again makes its appearance on the surface. On, on glides the raft with its sable crew, who are now worked up to the highest state of excitement. At last the raft is in the midst of the herd, who appear quite unconscious of danger. Presently one of the animals is in immediate contact with the raft. Now is the critical moment. The foremost harpooner raises himself to his full height to give the greater force to the blow, and the next instant the fatal iron descends with unerring accuracy in the body of the hippopotamus.
The wounded animal plunges violently and dives to the bottom, but all his efforts to escape are unavailing. The line or the shaft of the harpoon may break, but the cruel barb once imbedded in the flesh, the weapon (owing to the thickness and toughness of the beast’s hide) can not be withdrawn.
As soon as the hippopotamus is struck, one or more of the men launch a canoe from off the raft, and hasten to the shore with the harpoon-line, and take a “round turn” with it about a tree or bunch of reeds, so that the animal may either be “brought up” at once, or, should there be too great a strain on the line, “played” (to liken small things to great) in the same manner as the salmon by the fisherman. But if time should not admit of the line being passed around a tree, or the like, both line and “buoy” are thrown into the water, and the animal goes wheresoever he chooses.
The rest of the canoes are now all launched from off the raft, and chase is given to the poor brute, who, so soon as he comes to the surface to breathe, is saluted with a shower of light javelins, of which the following wood-cut is a sample. Again he descends, his track deeply crimsoned with gore. Presently, and perhaps at some little distance, he once more appears on the surface, when, as before, missiles of all kinds are hurled at his devoted head.
THE SPEAR.
When thus beset, the infuriated beast not unfrequently turns upon his assailants, and, either with his formidable tusks, or with a blow from his enormous head, staves in or capsizes the canoes. At times, indeed, not satisfied with wreaking his vengeance on the craft, he will attack one or other of the crew, and, with a single grasp of his horrid jaws, either terribly mutilates the poor fellow, or, it may be, cuts his body fairly in two!
The chase often lasts a considerable time. So long as the line and the harpoon hold, the animal can not escape, because the “buoy” always marks his whereabout. At length, from loss of blood or exhaustion, Behemoth succumbs to his pursuers.
It is a remarkable fact that almost the same method of securing the hippopotamus as that just described was adopted by the ancient Egyptians.[97]
“The hippopotamus,” says Diodorus, “is chased by many persons, each armed with iron javelins. As soon as it makes its appearance at the surface of the water, they surround it with boats, and, closing in on all sides, they wound it with blades furnished with iron barbs, and having hempen ropes fastened to them, in order that, when wounded, it may be let out until its strength fails it from loss of blood.”