The consequences of the chief's temerity would have been amusing but for his manifest danger. The negroes were swimming in all directions, keeping as much as possible under water to escape the eyes of the hippo; but Imbono, an older man than the rest, was not so expert a swimmer, and Jack saw with concern that the hippo, leaving the sinking canoe, was making straight for the chief.
A hippopotamus may be distanced by a canoe, but not by a man swimming. Imbono did not look behind, but seemed to know instinctively that death was within a few yards of him, and he struck out more and more desperately for the bank.
At the moment when the canoe struck the snag, Jack had seized his rifle; but after the catastrophe, canoe, hippo, and swimming natives were so intermingled that he could not venture a shot at the beast without the risk of hitting a man. The hippo's huge body provided a target sufficiently broad, indeed; but Jack knew that to strike it anywhere save at a vital spot would merely add to the beast's rage and make it doubly formidable to the men in the water. When he saw the plight of the chief, however, the great head now only a couple of yards behind him, the jaws already opening, disclosing the vast red chasm flanked by gleaming tusks and molars—when Jack saw Imbono thus in the very article of peril, he could no longer hesitate. The canoe was already at rest. Bidding Nando keep it steady, Jack raised his rifle to his shoulder and took careful aim.
The chief was gasping for breath after a vain attempt to dodge the beast by diving; the horrid jaws were just about to snap, when a shot rang out. A squealing grunt came from the closing gullet; the uncouth actions of the beast ceased; and he began to sink slowly and silently beneath the surface.
"A1!" ejaculated Mr. Martindale. "That makes up for your miss, Jack."
"Oka mö!"[[1]] shouted the negroes. Imbono's men had gained the bank, but the chief himself, overcome more by his fright than his exertions, seemed unable to swim any farther.
"Quick, haul him in, Jack," said Mr. Martindale. "There may be a crocodile after him next!"
A few strokes of the paddles brought the canoe within reach of the chief. Laughing heartily—the negro's laugh is always very near the surface—Nando and a comrade hoisted Imbono into the canoe.
"Me tell Imbono he oughter die of shame," said Nando gravely.
"What on earth for?" asked Mr. Martindale.