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.
About midday the sun grew intensely hot, and the stench drawn up by it
from the marshes which the river drains was something too awful, and
caused us instantly to swallow precautionary doses of quinine. Shortly
afterwards the breeze died away altogether, and as rowing our heavy boat
against stream in the heat was out of the question, we were thankful
enough to get under the shade of a group of trees--a species of
willow--that grew by the edge of the river, and lie there and gasp till
at length the approach of sunset put a period to our miseries.
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