"
So I didn't insist; indeed there was neither time nor breath for
argument.
Now we were in the reeds, for thanks to the flag which guided us, we
had struck the big hippopotamus lane exactly, and the Pongos, paddling
like demons, were about thirty yards behind. Thankful was I that those
interesting people had never learned the use of bows and arrows, and
that their spears were too heavy to throw. By now, or rather some time
before, old Babemba and the Mazitu had seen us, as had our Zulu
hunters. Crowds of them were wading through the shallows towards us,
yelling encouragements as they came. The Zulus, too, opened a rather
wild fire, with the result that one of the bullets struck our canoe
and another touched the brim of my hat. A third, however, killed a
Pongo, which caused some confusion in the ranks of Tusculum.
But we were done and they came on remorselessly. When their leading
boat was not more than ten yards from us and we were perhaps two
hundred from the shore, I drove my paddle downwards and finding that
the water was less than four feet deep, shouted:
"Overboard, all, and wade.
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