"As the hippo had gained confidence, I showed myself above the
rock, and called to him, according to Arab custom, 'Hasinth!
Hasinth!'* He, thinking no doubt that he might as well hunt me
away, gave a loud snort, sank, and quickly reappeared about a
hundred yards from me; but nearer than this he positively refused
to approach. I therefore called to Bacheet to shout from the
other side to attract his attention, and as he turned his head,
I took a steady shot behind the ear with the little Fletcher
rifle. This happened to be one of those fortunate shots that
consoles you for many misses, and the saucy old hippo turned upon
his back and rolled about in tremendous struggles, lashing the
still and deep pool into waves, until he at length disappeared.
We knew that he was settled; thus my people started off towards
the village, and in a marvellousiy short time a frantic crowd of
Arabs arrived with camels, ropes, axes, knives, and everything
necessary for an onslaught upon the hippo, who, up to this time,
had not appeared upon the surface. In about an hour and a half
from the time he received the bullet, we discovered his carcase
floating about two hundred yards lower down the river.
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