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.