"Yes; he'd hunted all sorts of wild animals, and so had I. We could each say we'd killed lions and tigers and elephants, but we had never before gone after any hippopotami."
"Hippopotamuses? Were there any there?"
"That's where they belong. But don't say 'musses.' One is a hippopotamus. I killed five while I was there, and as soon as I had two of them, they were hippopotami."
"My!" exclaimed Robert, "I never heard that before."
Cal had his school atlas out on the table, and his finger was already pushing along up the west coast of Africa.
"There's Angola."
"Now find the river Coanza. There's any number of them, and they're all alike. Where are my spectacles?"
"I've got it," said Cal. "Was that where you found 'em?"
"They live along all those rivers. The banks are all woods and swamps and mud, and the rivers are just about fit for river-horses to wallow in."
"River-horses!" exclaimed Rob, who was staring at a cut of one in his Natural History. "He's no more like a horse than this house is."