The Hippopotami
Never Made A Mistake, But Got Out Of Our Way.
The crocodiles, not so
wise, sometimes rushed with great velocity at us, thinking that we
were some huge animal swimming.
They kept about a foot from the
surface, but made three well-defined ripples from the feet and body,
which marked their rapid progress; raising the head out of the water
when only a few yards from the expected feast, down they went to the
bottom like a stone, without touching the boat.
In the middle of March of the same year (1859), we started again for
a second trip on the Shire. The natives were now friendly, and
readily sold us rice, fowls, and corn. We entered into amicable
relations with the chief, Chibisa, whose village was about ten miles
below the cataract. He had sent two men on our first visit to invite
us to drink beer; but the steamer was such a terrible apparition to
them, that, after shouting the invitation, they jumped ashore, and
left their canoe to drift down the stream. Chibisa was a remarkably
shrewd man, the very image, save his dark hue, of one of our most
celebrated London actors, {2} and the most intelligent chief, by far,
in this quarter. A great deal of fighting had fallen to his lot, he
said; but it was always others who began; he was invariably in the
right, and they alone were to blame. He was moreover a firm believer
in the divine right of kings.
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