I also shot a large single bull hippopotamus late in the evening,
which was alone at the extremity of the pool; he sank at the
forehead shot, and, as he never rose again, I concluded that he
was dead, and that I should find him on the morrow with the
crocodile. Tired with the heat, I trudged homeward over the hot
and fatiguing sand of the river's bed.
The cool night arrived, and at about half-past eight I was lying
half asleep upon my bed by the margin of the river, when I
fancied that I heard a rumbling like distant thunder: I had not
heard such a sound for months, but a low uninterrupted roll
appeared to increase in volume, although far distant. Hardly had
I raised my head to listen more attentively when a confusion of
voices arose from the Arabs' camp, with a sound of many feet, and
in a few minutes they rushed into my camp, shouting to my men in
the darkness, "El Bahr! El Bahr!" (the river! the river!)
We were up in an instant, and my interpreter, Mahomet, in a state
of intense confusion, explained that the river was coming down,
and that the supposed distant thunder was the roar of approaching
water.
Many of the people were asleep on the clean sand on the river's
bed; these were quickly awakened by the Arabs, who rushed down
the steep bank to save the skulls of my two hippopotami that were
exposed to dry.
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