“That’s not a lion, Dinny. That’s a hippopotamus,” replied Mr Rogers, smiling.
“Shure, an’ if he can roar like that, he’ll be worse than a lion, sor,” said Dinny, “so hadn’t ye betther shute at once?”
“Dinny doesn’t want you to shoot at the hippopotamus, father,” said Jack, laughing. “He wants you to shoot at shadows!”
Mr Rogers laughed, and after staying a little while by the fire, listening to the distant noises of the huge amphibious animals that abounded in the great stream, he quietly went back to the waggon.
The departure of his master was the signal for the renewal of Dinny’s fears, which he showed in a very peculiar way.
Jack had just thrown a few more pieces of wood upon the fire, which blazed up directly; and then, taking his place again, he was making himself comfortable, when there was a tremendous hollow roar, made by a hippopotamus, apparently pretty close to them.
Dinny immediately shifted his position, getting close up to Jack, who did not say anything, but feeling uncomfortably warm dodged a little farther off.
That was of no avail, for Dinny followed him, getting closer still, with the result that in the course of the next hour Jack was driven right round the fire; and he was just about to commence a second tour when the General came, with Dick, to relieve the watch, and Jack went off to bed.