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.
