from our sight like an ignis fatuus, and others
danced about we knew not how. But what was more
vexatious than all, after we had got into an inlet,
and toiled and tugged for a full half hour against
the current, which in this little channel was uncommonly
rapid, to approach a village from which we thought
it flowed, both village and lights seemed to sink
into the earth, the sound of the people’s voices
ceased of a sudden, and when we fancied we were actually
close to the spot, we strained our eyes in vain to
see a single hut,—all was gloomy, dismal,
cheerless, and solitary. It seemed the work of
enchantment; every thing was as visionary as “sceptres
grasped in sleep.” We had paddled along
the banks a distance of not less than thirty miles,
every inch of which we had attentively examined, but
not a bit of dry land could any where be discovered
which was firm enough to bear our weight. Therefore,
we resigned ourselves to circumstances, and all of
us having been refreshed with a little cold rice and
honey, and water from the stream, we permitted the
canoe to drift down with the current, for our men
were too much fatigued with the labours of the day
to work any longer. But here a fresh evil arose
which we were unprepared to meet. An incredible
number of hippopotami arose very near us, and came
plashing, snorting, and plunging all round the canoe,
and placed us in imminent danger. Thinking to
frighten them off, we fired a shot or two at them,
but the noise only called up from the water and out
of the fens, about as many more of their unwieldy
companions, and we were more closely beset than before.
Our people, who had never in all their lives been
exposed in a canoe to such huge and formidable beasts,
trembled with fear and apprehension, and absolutely
wept aloud; and their terror was not a little increased
by the dreadful peals of thunder which rattled over
their heads, and by the awful darkness which prevailed,
broken at intervals by flashes of lightning, whose
powerful glare was truly awful. Our people told
us, that these formidable animals frequently upset
canoes in the river, when every one in them was sure
to perish. These came so close to us, that we
could reach them with the butt-end of a gun. When
I fired at the first, which I must have hit, every
one of them came to the surface of the water, and
pursued us so fast over to the north bank, that it
was with the greatest difficulty imaginable we could
keep before them. Having fired a second time,
the report of my gun was followed by a loud roaring
noise, and we seemed to increase our distance from
them. There were two Bornou men among our crew
who were not so frightened as the rest, having seen
some of these creatures before on Lake Tchad, where,
they say, there are plenty of them. However,
the terrible hippopotami did us no kind of mischief
whatever; they were only sporting and wallowing in
the river for their own amusement, no doubt, at first
when we interrupted them; but had they upset our canoe,