One day a big ngooboo, or hippopotamus, looking fondly at his mate, said: “Dear, what a pleasant home we have. Our shoal is surrounded by deep water. We swim and dive around it, and enjoy ourselves in the broad river. The animals of the forest cannot come and attack us; the water is too swift for the crocodiles, and though the huge njokoo loves to bathe, he does not dare to disturb us, for he only fights on land. Even if he did attack us, we could dodge him and his big dangerous tusks by diving and remaining under the water out of his sight, for he cannot dive. Besides we could attack him and lacerate him with our big, crooked, hook-like tusks.”
Then he laughed in the fashion of the ngooboos, opening his enormous mouth and showing his tusks. “We could not,” he continued, “have chosen a better spot for a home. On one side of the river is the big forest, on the other is the extended prairie, where we go every night to graze and enjoy the juicy and succulent grass, unless we scent danger and think it wiser not to leave the river, in which case we have to dive and eat the grass growing at the bottom.”
Looking affectionately at Mrs. Ngooboo, he then uttered a grunt and snort which meant, “I love you dearly.” He admired her greatly. He thought the rosy gray of her skin was the most beautiful he had ever seen, and her form the most graceful of figures. The ngooboos believe that they are handsomer than all other creatures, and that their ponderous, clumsy bodies and short, ugly legs are very lovely. The ngooboos are in nowise more conceited than all the other animals, each kind thinking itself the handsomest.
One of the peculiarities of the ngooboos is that each family owns its shoal. It is their castle, and no other ngooboo is allowed to land there, and if they try, there is a fight; but when in the water they are friendly with one another. Each ngooboo knows his own shoal.
The ngooboos forming the colony were about thirty in number, including the babies. When they stood, or were lying on their shoals, their heads and backs were above the water, and their bodies looked like huge, stranded logs. Sometimes at a certain angle their heads looked like the heads of horses, hence the white people call them hippopotami, which means river horses.
“Do you remember, dear,” resumed Mr. Ngooboo, “when we migrated and came to the river in company with two other couples who live on yonder shoals? We were driven from our former homes by human beings, who had settled on the far-off prairie, made traps to ensnare us, and succeeded in capturing several of our number. At last we did not dare to land any more, so we concluded to leave the place and emigrate to some other country, and travelled until we discovered this beautiful river with its big prairie. Now we have prospered and increased in number, for this land has not many human beings.”
“I remember it well,” replied Mrs. Ngooboo, looking fondly at her mate, coming near him and putting her head close to his. Then the two looked at their dear little baby, who was very tiny and only a few weeks old, and thought she was the sweetest little baby ngooboo they had ever seen, as well as the most beautiful. She had such lovely eyes, such a cunning little mouth, and she was so intelligent for her age,—in a word, she was such a wonderful baby that there was no other little ngooboo like her.
The big ngooboo here took a plunge, remaining under water for a while, and reappearing on the surface, quite a way off from his shoal. Then he called to his mate, by peculiar grunts and snorts, which is the language of the ngooboos: “Be careful of our baby, for the current is swift.”
Hearing the call of her mate, Mrs. Ngooboo plunged into deep water and swam toward him, watching the baby carefully all the while, and the baby, when tired, would come gently and rest on the back of her mamma, who was delighted.