"Too cocksure, my boy; he's only just below the surface."
The beast mortally wounded by Mr. Martindale's rifle was lying in shallow water. Pat could no longer restrain himself. He leapt overboard and swam towards the hippo, barking with excitement, and becoming frantic when he found that it was just out of his reach. In his eagerness to attack the animal he even made an attempt to dive, so comical that all on board the canoe were convulsed with laughter. Being paddled to the spot, Mr. Martindale found that the beast was quite dead.
"Now what are we to do with him?" said Mr. Martindale. "Shall we go back and send a party to cut him up?"
"No, no, sah," said Nando instantly. "Tie rope; pull, pull; hippo he come 'long all behind."
"Tow him, eh? Very well. I allow that'll save time."
A rope was fastened firmly about the beast's neck and jaws; the other end was fixed to the canoe; and the men began to paddle down stream, towing the hippo. The tendency of the animal being to sink, the canoe seemed to Jack to be dangerously low in the water at the stern. But they had only a part of the usual complement of men on board, and the paddlers were among the most skilful on the Congo. They had gone but a few strokes when Jack, glancing back, caught sight of Imbono's canoe returning. Like Mr. Martindale's it was keeping fairly close to the bank. All at once a great shout of alarm broke from the chief's paddlers; their easy swing was quickened to desperate exertion, and they pulled out violently towards the middle of the stream.
"By Jove! uncle, a hippo's after them," cried Jack.
Just astern of the chief's canoe, between it and the shore, a huge hippopotamus, with jaws distended, showing his gleaming tusks, was swimming along in pursuit. For a little he gained, and Jack's pulse beat more quickly with excitement as he saw that the enraged beast was not more than half a dozen yards from the canoe. But the gap widened as soon as the six strong paddlers had settled down to their quickened stroke.
Imbono, sitting in the stern, had caught sight of the white men as his canoe cut for a few moments across the current, and with the natural vanity of the negro he began to show off. At a word from him one of the crew dropped his paddle, and, catching up a spear, hurled it at the pursuing hippo. There was a hoarse bellow from the animal, and a wild cheer from the men; the shaft of the spear was seen standing almost perpendicularly above the hippo's shoulder. With fierce exertion the beast increased his pace, and the gap momentarily diminished; but the negro resumed his paddle, and again the canoe drew away.
As the canoe came almost level with the towed hippo at a considerable distance towards mid-stream, Imbono ordered the same manoeuvre to be repeated. But fortune doubly befriended the pursuing animal. Just as the negro was poising his spear, a submerged tree stopped the canoe with a sudden jerk; the man lost his balance and fell overboard; half of the crew followed him into the water, the rest tumbled over one another into the bottom of the canoe. Imbono had been thrown backward as the vessel struck the snag. He had barely time to rise and plunge into the water when there was a hideous crackling sound; the stern of the canoe was caught between the hippo's gaping jaws and crunched to splinters.