“I don’t know what you are going to do,” said Leo, setting his mouth, “but I am going up that river.”

Job turned up the whites of his eyes and groaned, and the Arab murmured “Allah,” and groaned also.  As for me, I remarked sweetly that as we seemed to be between the devil and the deep sea, it did not much matter where we went.  But in reality I was as anxious to proceed as Leo.  The colossal negro’s head and the stone wharf had excited my curiosity to an extent of which I was secretly ashamed, and I was prepared to gratify it at any cost.  Accordingly, having carefully fitted the mast, restowed the boat, and got out our rifles, we embarked.  Fortunately the wind was blowing on shore from the ocean, so we were able to hoist the sail.  Indeed, we afterwards found out that as a general rule the wind set on shore from daybreak for some hours, and off shore again at sunset, and the explanation that I offer of this is, that when the earth is cooled by the dew and the night the hot air rises, and the draught rushes in from the sea till the sun has once more heated it through.  At least that appeared to be the rule here.

Taking advantage of this favouring wind, we sailed merrily up the river for three or four hours.  Once we came across a school of hippopotami, which rose, and bellowed dreadfully at us within ten or a dozen fathoms of the boat, much to Job’s alarm, and, I will confess, to my own.  These were the first hippopotami that we had ever seen, and, to judge by their insatiable curiosity, I should judge that we were the first white men that they had ever seen.  Upon my word, I once or twice thought that they were coming into the boat to gratify it.  Leo wanted to fire at them, but I dissuaded him, fearing the consequences.  Also, we saw hundreds of crocodiles basking on the muddy banks, and thousands upon thousands of water-fowl.  Some of these we shot, and among them was a wild goose, which, in addition to the sharp-curved spurs on its wings, had a spur about three-quarters of an inch long growing from the skull just between the eyes.  We never shot another like it, so I do not know if it was a “sport” or a distinct species.  In the latter case this incident may interest naturalists.  Job named it the Unicorn Goose.

About midday the sun grew intensely hot, and the stench drawn up by it from the marshes which the river drains was something too awful, and caused us instantly to swallow precautionary doses of quinine.  Shortly afterwards the breeze died away altogether, and as rowing our heavy boat against stream in the heat was out of the question, we were thankful enough to get under the shade of a group of trees—­a species of willow—­that grew by the edge of the river, and lie there and gasp till at length the approach of sunset put a period to our miseries.  Seeing what appeared to be an open space of water straight ahead of us, we determined to row there before settling what to do for the night.  Just as we were about