“Simple enough when you happen to think of it,” responded Blake. “Yes; the only thing you’ve got to look out for’s the ticks in the grass. They’ll keep you interested. They bit me up in great shape.”
He scowled at the recollection, nodded by way of emphasis, and was off like a shot. The edge of the plain beneath the cliff was strewn with rocks, among which, even with Miss Leslie’s help, Winthrope could pick his way but slowly. Before they were clear of the rough ground, they saw Blake disappear among the mangroves.
The ticks proved less annoying than they had apprehended after Blake’s warning. But when they approached the mouth of the river, they were alarmed to hear, above the roar of the surf, loud snorting, such as could only be made by large animals. Fearful lest Blake had roused and angered some forest beast, they veered to the right, and ran to hide behind a clump of thorns. Winthrope sank down exhausted the moment they reached cover; but Miss Leslie crept to the far end of the thicket and peered around.
“Oh, look here!” she cried. “It’s a whole herd of elephants trying to cross the river mouth where we did, and they’re being drowned, poor things!”
“Elephants?” panted Winthrope, and he dragged himself forward beside her. “Why, so there are; quite a drove of the beasts. Yet, I must say, they appear smaller–ah, yes; see their heads. They must be the hippos Blake saw.”
“Those ugly creatures? I once saw some at the zoo. Just the same, they will be drowned. Some are right in the surf!”
“I can’t say, I’m sure, Miss Genevieve, but I have an idea that the beasts are quite at home in the water. I fancy they enjoy surf bathing as keenly as ourselves.”
“I do believe you are right. There is one going in from the quiet water. But look at those funny little ones on the backs of the others!”
“Must be the baby hippos,” replied Winthrope, indifferently. “If you please, I’ll take a pull at the flask. I am very dry.”
When he had half emptied the flask, he stretched out in the shade to doze. But Miss Leslie continued to watch the movements of the snorting hippos, amused by the ponderous antics of the grown ones in the surf, and the comic appearance of the barrel-like infants as they mounted the backs of their obese mothers.