"Where are Fatimah and the new baby?" demanded the sparrow, shortly, for Pwit-Pwit never approved of laughter at his own expense.
"You'll find them over in the next tank," answered the father hippopotamus. "Never yet was there such a baby for the water. He has been to the surface to breathe only twice since he was born. He will be a great hippopotamus when he grows up."
"Do you mean to say," said Pwit-Pwit, in surprise, "that Fatimah found the baby in the water to begin with?"
"Why, certainly," answered Caliph, "where would you expect to find a new baby hippopotamus?"
"Well, I wonder what Zuelma will say to that," chirped the sparrow, as he hopped along to the margin of Fatimah's tank. All that could be seen of the mother hippopotamus was a glistening yard or so of her black back. This was floating about the tank in a manner that indicated no little agitation below the surface. The cause was apparent when Fatimah lifted her head out of the water, and said to Caliph:
"Alas! our new-born daughter is lost again. I have searched every corner of the tank in vain. Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?"
"Do not agitate yourself, my beloved," answered Caliph. "The little one is mischievous. Thus it was, I remember, with our first-born. Verily, it is a good sign."
Suddenly, while Caliph was speaking, Fatimah plunged her nose into the water, made a scooping motion, and rose quickly to the surface, bringing the missing baby with her. The Princess shrieked with delight at sight of the coffee-colored little image of its mother which lay sprawling across her broad nose, blinking its eyes and blowing spray from its nostrils.