Buffaloes were also seen in the grassy glades, but it proved difficult to come within range of them; also wart-hogs, and three different kinds of antelope.
Of these last Harold shot several, and they were found to be excellent food.
Human beings were also observed, but those first encountered fled at the sight of the white men, as if they had met with their worst foes; and such was in very truth the case,—if we may regard the Portuguese half-castes of that coast as white men,—for these negroes were runaway slaves, who stood the chance of being shot, or drowned, or whipped to death, if recaptured.
Other animals they saw—some queer, some terrible, nearly all strange—and last, though not least, the hippopotamus.
When Disco first saw this ungainly monster he was bereft of speech for some minutes. The usual “Hallo!” stuck in his throat and well-nigh choked him. He could only gasp, and point.
“Ay, there goes a hippopotamus,” said Harold, with the easy nonchalance of a man who had been to the Zoological Gardens, and knew all about it. Nevertheless it was quite plain that Harold was much excited, for he almost dropped his oar overboard in making a hasty grasp at his rifle. Before he could fire, the creature gaped wide, as if in laughter, and dived.
“Unfortunate!” said Harold, in a philosophically careless tone; “never mind, we shall see lots more of them.”
“Ugliness embodied!” said Disco, heaving a deep sigh.
“But him’s goot for eat,” said Antonio, smacking his lips.
“Is he?” demanded Disco of Jumbo, whose enjoyment of the sailor’s expressive looks was so great, that, whenever the latter opened his lips, the former looked back over his shoulder with a broad grin of expectation.