On one of the upper branches of the Congo river lived an ancient and
aristocratic family of hippopotamuses, which boasted a pedigree dating
back beyond the days of Noah—beyond the existence of mankind—far into
the dim ages when the world was new.
They had always lived upon the banks of this same river, so that every
curve and sweep of its waters, every pit and shallow of its bed, every
rock and stump and wallow upon its bank was as familiar to them as
their own mothers. And they are living there yet, I suppose.
Not long ago the queen of this tribe of hippopotamuses had a child
which she named Keo, because it was so fat and round. Still, that you
may not be misled, I will say that in the hippopotamus language “Keo,”
properly translated, means “fat and lazy” instead of fat and round.
However, no one called the queen’s attention to this error, because her
tusks were monstrous long and sharp, and she thought Keo the sweetest
baby in the world.
He was, indeed, all right for a hippopotamus. He rolled and played in
the soft mud of the river bank, and waddled inland to nibble the leaves
of the wild cabbage that grew there, and was happy and contented from
morning till night. And he was the jolliest hippopotamus that ancient
family had ever known. His little red eyes were forever twinkling with
fun, and he laughed his merry laugh on all occasions, whether there was
anything to laugh at or not.
Therefore the black people who dwelt in that region called him
“Ippi”—the jolly one, although they dared not come anigh him on account
of his fierce mother, and his equally fierce uncles and aunts and
cousins, who lived in a vast colony upon the river bank.
And while these black people, who lived in little villages scattered
among the trees, dared not openly attack the royal family of
hippopotamuses, they were amazingly fond of eating hippopotamus meat
whenever they could get it. This was no secret to the hippopotamuses.
And, again, when the blacks managed to catch these animals alive, they
had a trick of riding them through the jungles as if they were horses,
thus reducing them to a condition of slavery.
Therefore, having these things in mind, whenever the tribe of
hippopotamuses smelled the oily odor of black people they were
accustomed to charge upon them furiously, and if by chance they
overtook one of the enemy they would rip him with their sharp tusks or
stamp him into the earth with their huge feet.
It was continual warfare between the hippopotamuses and the black
people.
Gouie lived in one of the little villages of the blacks. He was the son
of the chief’s brother and grandson of the village sorcerer, the latter
being an aged man known as the “the boneless wonder,” because he could
twist himself into as many coils as a serpent and had no bones to
hinder his bending his flesh into any position. This made him walk in a
wabbly fashion, but the black people had great respect for him.
Gouie’s hut was made of branches of trees stuck together with mud, and
his clothing consisted of a grass mat tied around his middle. But his
relationship to the chief and the sorcerer gave him a certain dignity,
and he was much addicted to solitary thought. Perhaps it was natural
that these thoughts frequently turned upon his enemies, the
hippopotamuses, and that he should consider many ways of capturing
them.
Finally he completed his plans, and set about digging a great pit in
the ground, midway between two sharp curves of the river. When the pit
was finished he covered it over with small branches of trees, and
strewed earth upon them, smoothing the surface so artfully that no one
would suspect there was a big hole underneath. Then Gouie laughed
softly to himself and went home to supper.
That evening the queen said to Keo, who was growing to be a fine child
for his age:
“I wish you’d run across the bend and ask your Uncle Nikki to come
here. I have found a strange plant, and want him to tell me if it is
good to eat.”
The jolly one laughed heartily as he started upon his errand, for he
felt as important as a boy does when he is sent for the first time to
the corner grocery to buy a yeast cake.
“Guk-uk-uk-uk! guk-uk-uk-uk!” was the way he laughed; and if you think
a hippopotamus does not laugh this way you have but to listen to one
and you will find I am right.
He crawled out of the mud where he was wallowing and tramped away
through the bushes, and the last his mother heard as she lay half in
and half out of the water was his musical “guk-uk-uk-uk!” dying away in
the distance.
Keo was in such a happy mood that he scarcely noticed where he stepped,
so he was much surprised when, in the middle of a laugh, the ground
gave way beneath him, and he fell to the bottom of Gouie’s deep pit. He
was not badly hurt, but had bumped his nose severely as he went down;
so he stopped laughing and began to think how he should get out again.
Then he found the walls were higher than his head, and that he was a
prisoner.
So he laughed a little at his own misfortune, and the laughter soothed
him to sleep, so that he snored all through the night until daylight
came.
When Gouie peered over the edge of the pit next morning he exclaimed:
“Why, ’tis Ippi—the Jolly One!”
Keo recognized the scent of a black man and tried to raise his head
high enough to bite him. Seeing which Gouie spoke in the hippopotamus
language, which he had learned from his grandfather, the sorcerer.
“Have peace, little one; you are my captive.”
“Yes; I will have a piece of your leg, if I can reach it,” retorted
Keo; and then he laughed at his own joke: “Guk-uk-uk-uk!”
But Gouie, being a thoughtful black man, went away without further
talk, and did not return until the following morning. When he again
leaned over the pit Keo was so weak from hunger that he could hardly
laugh at all.
“Do you give up?” asked Gouie, “or do you still wish to fight?”
“What will happen if I give up?” inquired Keo.
The black man scratched his woolly head in perplexity.
“It is hard to say, Ippi. You are too young to work, and if I kill you
for food I shall lose your tusks, which are not yet grown. Why, O Jolly
One, did you fall into my hole? I wanted to catch your mother or one of
your uncles.”
“Guk-uk-uk-uk!” laughed Keo. “You must let me go, after all, black man;
for I am of no use to you!”
“That I will not do,” declared Gouie; “unless,” he added, as an
afterthought, “you will make a bargain with me.”
“Let me hear about the bargain, black one, for I am hungry,” said Keo.
“I will let your go if you swear by the tusks of your grandfather that
you will return to me in a year and a day and become my prisoner
again.”
The youthful hippopotamus paused to think, for he knew it was a solemn
thing to swear by the tusks of his grandfather; but he was exceedingly
hungry, and a year and a day seemed a long time off; so he said, with
another careless laugh:
“Very well; if you will now let me go I swear by the tusks of my
grandfather to return to you in a year and a day and become your
prisoner.”
Gouie was much pleased, for he knew that in a year and a day Keo would
be almost full grown. So he began digging away one end of the pit and
filling it up with the earth until he had made an incline which would
allow the hippopotamus to climb out.
Keo was so pleased when he found himself upon the surface of the earth
again that he indulged in a merry fit of laughter, after which he said:
“Good-by, Gouie; in a year and a day you will see me again.”
Then he waddled away toward the river to see his mother and get his
breakfast, and Gouie returned to his village.
During the months that followed, as the black man lay in his hut or
hunted in the forest, he heard at times the faraway “Guk-uk-uk-uk!” of
the laughing hippopotamus. But he only smiled to himself and thought:
“A year and a day will soon pass away!”
Now when Keo returned to his mother safe and well every member of his
tribe was filled with joy, for the Jolly One was a general favorite.
But when he told them that in a year and a day he must again become the
slave of the black man, they began to wail and weep, and so many were
their tears that the river rose several inches.
Of course Keo only laughed at their sorrow; but a great meeting of the
tribe was called and the matter discussed seriously.
“Having sworn by the tusks of his grandfather,” said Uncle Nikki, “he
must keep his promise. But it is our duty to try in some way to rescue
him from death or a life of slavery.”
To this all agreed, but no one could think of any method of saving Keo
from his fate. So months passed away, during which all the royal
hippopotamuses were sad and gloomy except the Jolly One himself.
Finally but a week of freedom remained to Keo, and his mother, the
queen, became so nervous and worried that another meeting of the tribe
was called. By this time the laughing hippopotamus had grown to
enormous size, and measured nearly fifteen feet long and six feet high,
while his sharp tusks were whiter and harder than those of an elephant.
“Unless something is done to save my child,” said the mother, “I shall
die of grief.”
Then some of her relations began to make foolish suggestions; but
presently Uncle Nep, a wise and very big hippopotamus, said:
“We must go to Glinkomok and implore his aid.”
Then all were silent, for it was a bold thing to face the mighty
Glinkomok. But the mother’s love was equal to any heroism.
“I will myself go to him, if Uncle Nep will accompany me,” she said,
quickly.
Uncle Nep thoughtfully patted the soft mud with his fore foot and
wagged his short tail leisurely from side to side.
“We have always been obedient to Glinkomok, and shown him great
respect,” said he. “Therefore I fear no danger in facing him. I will go
with you.”
All the others snorted approval, being very glad they were not called
upon to go themselves.
So the queen and Uncle Nep, with Keo swimming between them, set out
upon their journey. They swam up the river all that day and all the
next, until they came at sundown to a high, rocky wall, beneath which
was the cave where the mighty Glinkomok dwelt.
This fearful creature was part beast, part man, part fowl and part
fish. It had lived since the world began. Through years of wisdom it
had become part sorcerer, part wizard, part magician and part fairy.
Mankind knew it not, but the ancient beasts knew and feared it.
The three hippopotamuses paused before the cave, with their front feet
upon the bank and their bodies in the water, and called in chorus a
greeting to Glinkomok. Instantly thereafter the mouth of the cave
darkened and the creature glided silently toward them.
The hippopotamuses were afraid to look upon it, and bowed their heads
between their legs.
“We come, O Glinkomok, to implore your mercy and friendly assistance!”
began Uncle Nep; and then he told the story of Keo’s capture, and how
he had promised to return to the black man.
“He must keep his promise,” said the creature, in a voice that sounded
like a sigh.
The mother hippopotamus groaned aloud.
“But I will prepare him to overcome the black man, and to regain his
liberty,” continued Glinkomok.
Keo laughed.
“Lift your right paw,” commanded Glinkomok. Keo obeyed, and the
creature touched it with its long, hairy tongue. Then it held four
skinny hands over Keo’s bowed head and mumbled some words in a language
unknown to man or beast or fowl or fish. After this it spoke again in
hippopotamese:
“Your skin has now become so tough that no man can hurt you. Your
strength is greater than that of ten elephants. Your foot is so swift
that you can distance the wind. Your wit is sharper than the bulthorn.
Let the man fear, but drive fear from your own breast forever; for of
all your race you are the mightiest!”
Then the terrible Glinkomok leaned over, and Keo felt its fiery breath
scorch him as it whispered some further instructions in his ear. The
next moment it glided back into its cave, followed by the loud thanks
of the three hippopotamuses, who slid into the water and immediately
began their journey home.
The mother’s heart was full of joy; Uncle Nep shivered once or twice as
he remembered a glimpse he had caught of Glinkomok; but Keo was as
jolly as possible, and, not content to swim with his dignified elders,
he dived under their bodies, raced all around them and laughed merrily
every inch of the way home.
Then all the tribe held high jinks and praised the mighty Glinkomok for
befriending their queen’s son. And when the day came for the Jolly One
to give himself up to the black man they all kissed him good-by without
a single fear for his safety.
Keo went away in good spirits, and they could hear his laughing
“guk-uk-uk-uk!” long after he was lost in sight in the jungle.
Gouie had counted the days and knew when to expect Keo; but he was
astonished at the monstrous size to which his captive had grown, and
congratulated himself on the wise bargain he had made. And Keo was so
fat that Gouie determined to eat him—that is, all of him he possibly
could, and the remainder of the carcass he would trade off to his
fellow villagers.
So he took a knife and tried to stick it into the hippopotamus, but the
skin was so tough the knife was blunted against it. Then he tried other
means; but Keo remained unhurt.
And now indeed the Jolly One laughed his most gleeful laugh, till all
the forest echoed the “guk-uk-uk-uk-uk!” And Gouie decided not to kill
him, since that was impossible, but to use him for a beast of burden.
He mounted upon Keo’s back and commanded him to march. So Keo trotted
briskly through the village, his little eyes twinkling with merriment.
The other blacks were delighted with Gouie’s captive, and begged
permission to ride upon the Jolly One’s back. So Gouie bargained with
them for bracelets and shell necklaces and little gold ornaments, until
he had acquired quite a heap of trinkets. Then a dozen black men
climbed upon Keo’s back to enjoy a ride, and the one nearest his nose
cried out:
“Run, Mud-dog—run!”
And Keo ran. Swift as the wind he strode, away from the village,
through the forest and straight up the river bank. The black men howled
with fear; the Jolly One roared with laughter; and on, on, on they
rushed!
Then before them, on the opposite side of the river, appeared the black
mouth of Glinkomok’s cave. Keo dashed into the water, dived to the
bottom and left the black people struggling to swim out. But Glinkomok
had heard the laughter of Keo and knew what to do. When the Jolly One
rose to the surface and blew the water from his throat there was no
black man to be seen.
Keo returned alone to the village, and Gouie asked, with surprise:
“Where are my brothers:”
“I do not know,” answered Keo. “I took them far away, and they remained
where I left them.”
Gouie would have asked more questions then, but another crowd of black
men impatiently waited to ride on the back of the laughing
hippopotamus. So they paid the price and climbed to their seats, after
which the foremost said:
“Run, mud-wallower—run!”
And Keo ran as before and carried them to the mouth of Glinkomok’s
cave, and returned alone.
But now Gouie became anxious to know the fate of his fellows, for he
was the only black man left in his village. So he mounted the
hippopotamus and cried:
“Run, river-hog—run!”
Keo laughed his jolly “guk-uk-uk-uk!” and ran with the speed of the
wind. But this time he made straight for the river bank where his own
tribe lived, and when he reached it he waded into the river, dived to
the bottom and left Gouie floating in the middle of the stream.
The black man began swimming toward the right bank, but there he saw
Uncle Nep and half the royal tribe waiting to stamp him into the soft
mud. So he turned toward the left bank, and there stood the queen
mother and Uncle Nikki, red-eyed and angry, waiting to tear him with
their tusks.
Then Gouie uttered loud screams of terror, and, spying the Jolly One,
who swam near him, he cried:
“Save me, Keo! Save me, and I will release you from slavery!”
“That is not enough,” laughed Keo.
“I will serve you all my life!” screamed Gouie; “I will do everything
you bid me!”
“Will you return to me in a year and a day and become my captive, if I
allow you to escape?” asked Keo.
“I will! I will! I will!” cried Gouie.
“Swear it by the bones of your grandfather!” commanded Keo, remembering
that black men have no tusks to swear by.
And Gouie swore it by the bones of his grandfather.
Then Keo swam to the black one, who clambered upon his back again. In
this fashion they came to the bank, where Keo told his mother and all
the tribe of the bargain he had made with Gouie, who was to return in a
year and a day and become his slave.
Therefore the black man was permitted to depart in peace, and once more
the Jolly One lived with his own people and was happy.
When a year and a day had passed Keo began watching for the return of
Gouie; but he did not come, then or ever afterwards.
For the black man had made a bundle of his bracelets and shell
necklaces and little gold ornaments and had traveled many miles into
another country, where the ancient and royal tribe of hippopotamuses
was unknown. And he set up for a great chief, because of his riches,
and people bowed down before him.
By day he was proud and swaggering. But at night he tumbled and tossed
upon his bed and could not sleep. His conscience troubled him.
For he had sworn by the bones of his grandfather; and his grandfather
had no bones.