The Eclaireur Goes Now Close Enough To The Hippo-Anchored Canoe For
A Rope To Be Flung To The Man In Her Bows; He Catches It And Freezes
On Gallantly.
Saved!
No! Oh horror! The lower deck hums with
fear that after all it will not taste that toothsome hippo chop, for
the man who has caught the rope is as nearly as possible jerked
flying out of the canoe when the strain of the Eclaireur contending
with the hippo's inertia flies along it, but his companion behind
him grips him by the legs and is in his turn grabbed, and the crew
holding on to each other with their hands, and on to their craft
with their feet, save the man holding on to the rope and the whole
situation; and slowly bobbing towards us comes the hippopotamus, who
is shortly hauled on board by the winners in triumph.
My esteemed friends, the Captain and the Engineer, who of course
have been below during this hauling, now rush on to the upper deck,
each coatless, and carrying an enormous butcher's knife. They dash
into the saloon, where a terrific sharpening of these instruments
takes place on the steel belonging to the saloon carving-knife, and
down stairs again. By looking down the ladder, I can see the pink,
pig-like hippo, whose colour has been soaked out by the water, lying
on the lower deck and the Captain and Engineer slitting down the
skin intent on gralloching operations. Providentially, my prophetic
soul induces me to leave the top of the ladder and go forward - "run
to win'ard," as Captain Murray would say - for within two minutes the
Captain and Engineer are up the ladder as if they had been blown up
by the boilers bursting, and go as one man for the brandy bottle;
and they wanted it if ever man did; for remember that hippo had been
dead and in the warm river-water for more than a week.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 179 of 705
Words from 49485 to 49815
of 194943
