In the Wilds of Africa

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The next day the boys were very eager to go out in the canoe. “No, no, young gentlemen, time enough by-and-by,” said Jack. “You come and help Timbo and I to finish off the other, and we will get on with it while the Captain and Mr Crawford take a cruise.”

“But, I say, we have not settled what they are to be called,” exclaimed Leo, as we walked along.

“I have been thinking about that,” said Natty. “What do you say to calling one the Panther, and the other the Leopard? They are proper names for this part of the world.”

“And so would be the Crocodile and Hippopotamus,” said Leo; “and as they are water animals, those names would be more suitable.”

“But they are not pretty names,” argued Natty. “Would not the Giraffe and Gazelle be better?”

“We ought to have got Kate and Bella down to name them,” exclaimed Leo.

“Come, what do you say, Mr Crawford?” said Natty. “Do not you consider the Giraffe and Gazelle are two pretty names?”

“They are prettier than the others,” I replied, “though they are not quite so appropriate perhaps; but as all sorts of names are given to vessels, I do not know why our canoes should not have the prettiest names we can find.”

At last Leo came round to Natty’s opinion, and it was agreed that our two canoes should be called after the names he proposed, the first launched being called the Giraffe. The boys, I saw, were very anxious to accompany us, but still they went away with a good grace with Jack and Timbo. We hoped to obtain a good supply of wild-fowl, and perhaps to shoot some larger game from the banks. Though I had my gun with me, I assisted Chickango in paddling the canoe, while Stanley sat with his gun ready to shoot whatever might appear. We had knocked over a good many wild-fowl, which made us wish that we had a dog with us to bring them out, as we had a good deal of trouble in rowing after them. At length Stanley shot a beautiful flamingo, which went away paddling down the stream at a great rate. We pursued. We were not far from the banks, when suddenly I felt so tremendous a shock, that I thought we must have run on a rock, and immediately afterwards a huge head appeared above the water and dashed towards us. The hippopotamus, for such it was, and a very large one, seized the boat by the gunwale, and threatened to overturn her. At the same moment several other monsters rose with their snouts above the water. I felt that we should have a poor chance of escaping if the canoe was upset, for I thought that the monsters would immediately make at us and tear us to pieces, or swallow us whole, for their mouths seemed large enough to take any one of us down at a gulp. I seized my gun, as did my cousin, who sprang to his feet, and levelled his piece at the monster’s head. “Fire! massa, fire! or he upset boat and kill all we,” cried Chickango, leaping up to the bow of the boat, and holding up his hands with a look of horror. I heard the wood crunching under the creature’s teeth. Stanley, who never lost his presence of mind, balancing himself in the bow of the boat, took aim, and at the moment I expected to find the boat dragged under, and probably we ourselves attacked by the other monsters, he fired. The bullet struck the creature in its most vital part, near the ear, and penetrated the brain. It opened its huge jaws and sank back into the water, beneath which it disappeared, while its companions, alarmed by the report, swam off, leaving us unmolested.

There we were, floating calmly on the stream, and I could scarcely believe that an instant before we were engaged in a fearful encounter. The canoe, however, gave evidence of the power of the creature’s teeth, for part of the gunwale, though it was of considerable thickness, was literally crunched up. Several holes were made in the bottom, through which the water was running. We soon had out our knives and set to work to plug the latter, which we quickly did, before much water had rushed in, and that was soon bailed out with our hats. Our canoe had received too much damage to allow us to continue our voyage, and we therefore paddled back, hoping that we might never again be engaged in a similar adventure.