Chapter 17

In certain parts of the bottom of the great ravine is a liquid, the admixture of refuse of all kinds. After some years this liquid becomes of a golden colour for the depth of about two inches only; beneath, it is of a muddy brown. It was accidentally discovered that the golden liquor so hardened wood that no insect could make any impression upon it, and no moisture could penetrate the fibres. There is some difficulty in skimming and obtaining the liquid in a pure state; but the operation having been performed, it is carefully preserved in large vats and remains ready for use.

The timber having been thoroughly seasoned in the sun, each plank is cut and shaped to the exact form required, and is then soaked in this liquid. If the process of cutting were delayed till after the timber had been soaked, the parts where the cuttings had been made would be unprotected from the insects. If the soaking were delayed until after the ship had been put together, the four sides of each of the timbers where it is joined to other timbers, would in like manner be unprotected, and the insects would eat their way between. The care exercised was the more necessary, as it was essential that the wood under the hippopotamus hide should be preserved from internal as well as external influences. If the wood had shrunk after it had been once covered, parts of the hide would become slack, and serious inconveniences would have ensued. I never knew one of our Swan vessels to spring a leak or to wear out. The vessels built under my rule will exist unimpaired for many centuries, whilst those built under the former system were broken to pieces on account of their foulness and leakage, chiefly caused by the ravages of insects.

THE COMPASS.

The compass used in our ships is different to yours, being based on the fact that each country has a different attraction to certain liquids. In short, we apply an electrical power entirely unknown to you.

THE ANCHOR.

The anchor is made of iron-marble, which is the strongest composition we have, and which, you will recollect, was used in the construction of the Mountain Supporter.

In shape the anchor resembles a body with six legs, like a fly--three on either side. Each leg has a crook at the end, which will grapple firmly wherever the least hold can be obtained.

The anchor is let out and hauled in by machinery made on a principle resembling the machinery of the ship itself, but, of course, on a very much smaller scale.

The rope holding the anchor is made of Bisson hair, a very strong material; and although there is little probability of its breaking, there are four other ropes of the same material secured to the body of the anchor, to serve in case of accidents. There is no strain whatever in the meantime on these reserved ropes, which hang slack, and would only come taut and into play in case of the principal rope being broken.

XLIV.

PICTURES FROM WATER.

"The records of your actions are borne in the waters, in the air, in electricity, in the unknown powers that, by the command of Him who made them all, pervade infinite space. His might is everywhere; and the man who transgresses, sins in the presence of myriads of witnesses."

In my reign some interesting discoveries were made with regard to water.

From a source situated in the midst of a lovely scene flowed a spring of remarkably pure quality, some drops of which, taken at a distance, presented, when viewed through a microscope, a true picture of the landscape close to the source from whence they came. Rocks, trees, shrubs, sky, were there faithfully delineated with their varied forms and colours, together with the resemblances of two persons, lovers, seated on the banks. As we afterwards learned, they had been attracted by the beauty of the scene, had sat for a long time in the same place, and their portrait was, as it were, fixed on the water.

The electricity of the sun and light had thrown the shadow or picture of the scene on the fluid, whose electricity had been sufficiently strong to retain it, and bear it to the spot whence the drops of water had been taken. This circumstance, and our knowledge that the reflecting power of the water is the result in part of its peculiar electricity, led to a very interesting discovery.

With the assistance of a powerfully attracting electric machine we can produce, together with the surrounding landscape, the likeness of a person, or of a group, actually many miles from the machine, if near the water. The image is received on the reflecting mirror of the machine, and an artist immediately copies outlines and colours.

With the aid of the attracting machine we have obtained pictures of our Swan-vessels, though a long way out at sea, with the passengers on the decks; who, on arriving, have been surprised to find their likenesses, with a similitude of the costume they wore while on board.

The machine, through the medium of the water, throws its attracting power many miles out through the sea, and reflects objects back on a large plate of a kind of ground-glass. The objects reflected are not fixed permanently, but remain on the plate for about an hour and a half after the connection with the machine has ceased. During this time an artist traces the picture which it is desired to retain, and fills in the colours. The reflection thrown is indeed little more than a pale-coloured shadow, but we make of it a reality at will.

Our knowledge of the properties of water enables us, with the aid of an electric-attracting machine, to see the bottom of the sea. Images of the deepest parts are thrown upon the mirror, the force of the machine being increased according to the depth of the sea, and the distance from the machine.

Some parts of the bottom of the sea reveal nothing but uninhabited, uneven ground, whilst other parts present the appearance of an inhabited world. We have seen the entrances to large caverns with what may be called doors, and immense moving masses; flowers and parterres of most delicate and lovely beauty; varieties of precious stones, forming devices and figures of different kinds; and large shrubs that glistened as diamonds in the sun, and thriving and blossoming, seemed replete with life. In other parts of the sea lie strewn in irregular masses things of every description in incredible quantities, heaps upon heaps, as though these parts had at some time been dry land, where riches of every description had been congregated. A description of the wonders seen would fill many volumes.

XLV.

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS.

"Ye seek Elikoia's life....Ye watch to make sure of your prey, when the boy is alone, his thoughts fixed on high....Ye shall wear hideous forms, ye shall wander on the land, as well as on the water, but nowhere shall ye find rest. Ye shall dread and be dreaded by all; ye shall constantly be put to death, that your hide and carcase at least may serve for useful purposes in the land that ye have denied.... Ye shall be slain with no more compunction than when a man cuts down a tree with which to make his hut." [1]....

[Footnote 1: The above belongs to the ancient mythology of Montalluyah.]

Hippopotami are very numerous in my planet; their breed is encouraged, for they are found to be invaluable.

They are of a cruel nature, and there is much antipathy between them and human beings. Apart from the valuable uses to which they are made subservient, these beasts are regarded in our planet with a feeling akin to that with which you regard the serpent, it having been supposed in the early ages of our world that the hippopotamus embodied a portion of the spirit of the enemy of mankind.

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS HIDE.

The hide of the beast is of remarkable strength and durability, and is impervious to water; indeed, its toughness is, if possible, increased by immersion. It is used for a variety of purposes, forming a covering for our vessels, the want of which nothing could supply in our tempestuous and rocky seas. It serves most effectually to insulate and protect our electric telegraphs both by land and sea. It resists the most violent usage, and no force, without the application of fire, can break it, for it is so tough, even in an unprepared state, that it can only be severed or penetrated by the application of fire and red-hot penetrating-irons.

The nearest approach to the hide of the hippopotamus is that of the rhinoceros; but this is not so tough or so durable, and it is inferior in other qualities.

The value of the hippopotamus is incalculable. Whilst alive, we can extract from him a powerful electricity. When dead, besides the innumerable purposes to which the hide is applied, his bones, marrow, oil, fat, and, indeed, every part of the carcase, are of great value.

Some portions of the ugly beast are made subservient to the beautiful, for they are used in the arts to give additional brilliancy to colours.

The bones, which are susceptible of a beautiful polish like ivory, and are transparent, are used for articles of elegant furniture and ornaments of varied beauty.

At some distance from Montalluyah is a large tract of country, called "Hippopotamus Land," where there is an abundance of everything that the beasts like or need, such as sand, moss, nut-trees, and a peculiar plant, which is their favourite food.

Numerous herds are kept on this land, and also in enclosures, as deer are preserved in your parks. In charge of them are numerous herdsmen or keepers, who may be compared to so many shepherds looking after the sheep, though the animals they tend are far more valuable.

From habit, the keepers understand all the ways and movements of their flock.

With a view to startle the animals as little as possible, the keepers are clothed in a dress made of hippopotamus-skin, the outside of which is preserved in its natural state, and it is so arranged that the men may appear like familiar figures to the mothers and the young, and not excite their fear.

It is known in Montalluyah that wild beasts often attack man from fear, lest he should do them harm.

The skin worn by the keeper is saturated with a solution made from a strong-smelling herb, to which the animals have great antipathy; and even though they may approach and smell the skin, they soon turn away, without hurting the watcher.

The beast's antipathy to this herb was discovered by accident. It happened that a herd of hippopotami were driven on land where it grew abundantly; they instantly rushed furiously into the water, and, in spite of every effort and stratagem, could not be made to return to the shore.

Suspecting that this herb was the cause of their contumacy, we took a young hippopotamus, and kept him without food till he became quite ravenous. Some of the tender herbs were then brought, but he would not touch them, and evinced other symptoms of antipathy, while he showed his ravenousness by trying to seize the keeper. He was still kept without food, and the herbs were left within his reach, but he would not approach them, though, as soon as some of his usual food was brought, he greedily devoured it.

These beasts formerly infested the rivers which run through our cities; and a very powerful solution from the herb, which they could scent at a considerable distance, was prepared by our chemists. We have great locks at the entrances of our rivers. In these are concave places in which the preparation is deposited, and the dangerous beasts are thus kept at a great distance.

In our world the hippopotami are very fond of freshwater rivers. There is a large stream called the Aoe, the waters of which have a peculiar attraction for these beasts, and I have seen it covered with them for miles.

The waters of this river are very prejudicial to man; perhaps the qualities which make them agreeable to the beast render them antipathetic to man's constitution.

In their native state, the beasts like the land as much as the water, preferring it indeed during the prevalence of certain winds. I could tell, by the direction of these, whether few or many of the animals would come ashore. From my observatory, I have seen thousands together a long way off, looking like countless swarms of flies, and all moving in a compact mass, as though they were gregarious to the highest degree. When seen from a short distance, they look like a moving lead-colour bog. I have sent to caution the hunters, for on occasion the large herds are dangerous.

HABITS.

There are times when the hippopotami seek to be invisible; they then bury themselves in the sand, and not one can be seen. At other times, miles of country are covered with them.

When the wind is in a particular quarter it causes a remarkable musical sound in its passage through the hollow rocks, which seems particularly sympathetic to the hippopotami. If, at the time the "musical sound" is heard, the sun shines, they with great rapidity place the young ones together, running round them as round a central point in a succession of circles. They jump and bound, pass and repass each other, and as it were dance with joy, in a state of great excitement continuing their energetic gambols all the time the musical sound is heard, until, exhausted with their exertions, they lie down and sleep.

It is a grand sight to see large herds of hippopotami so joyfully excited. They never act thus when stimulated by fear, but stand doggedly for some time, as though examining the cause of the disturbance, and as soon as the terror has mastered them they rush away, running at a great speed.

When they pair, they are generally constant to each other, and the female usually remains at the side of her mate: but some are capricious, and go about as if seeking other males of the herd. When the female is thus inconstant, her partner, after a time, tries to destroy her and her young, though pains are taken to prevent this result.

To save the female and her young, we have occasionally been obliged to kill the male with arrows steeped in a poison so powerful, that the slightest graze will cause instant death.

The mother is generally much attached to her young. She buries it in the sand, leaving an aperture through which it may breathe, and she lies at its side. If the temperature changes, or she fancies the calf has not sufficient heat, she will cover the aperture for a time with her head, or some part of her body. She gathers nuts, which the young one likes, and will sometimes wander for miles along the strand of rivers to seek a small fish, which she kills, and brings back to the spot where the calf has been left buried in the sand.

When the young one is sickly, and does not respond to the signs of the mother, she fancies the little creature does not like her, and leaves it to die.

REARING HIPPOPOTAMI.

In Montalluyah there are large lakes, protected and enclosed by iron-work, where hippopotami are reared.

These are interspersed with land, on which we deposit large quantities of sand and moss.

We are very successful in rearing the animals, but we take care that they should have facilities for following their natural habits.

I believe you have not been able to rear these beasts in Western Europe. You might do so by observing their habits, and even by attending to a few simple precautions. If you were once successful they would increase rapidly, and you would soon discover their inestimable value.

This is the course we pursue when the animal is reared in confined situations:

As soon as the female has conceived, a quantity of sand and moss is placed on the ground at the side of the water. This is done without loss of time, that the beast may be accustomed to the sight. Shortly, if left to herself, she will wallow in the mixture, and as soon as the young one is born, will place it in the sand, covering it over with moss.

As already observed, the female, when running wild in a state of nature, lays the young one in the sand as soon as it is born, covering every part of the body, and then overlaying it with moss. On this account, we take care to deposit the sand and moss where the animal can easily find them.

The beasts are of a very suspicious nature, and if the sand and moss were not placed near the female until after her young one was born, she would be afraid of them.

The mother is treated with great kindness, and is not allowed in any way to be teased or used harshly.

The hippopotamus is a very nervous animal, and is besides very vicious and irritable. The female does not easily forget an injury, particularly when with young. If in any way used unkindly, the effects of the vexation will endure for a long time after the birth of the young one, which will come into the world in a weakly state, and will not thrive. If it does not soon die, the mother will kill it; for, when ill-treated either before or after parturition, the mother is ordinarily impelled to destroy the calf. She is often so nervous, that, when with calf, she cannot bear to be looked at and is then placed apart in an enclosure reserved expressly for the purpose, which is hoarded round, and no one but the keeper is allowed to approach her.

In a state of nature, the beast is accustomed to wander over large tracts especially favoured by sun and light; even the water he swims in is warmed by the sun. In the gardens in which you strive to rear these beasts, they are kept in dark miserable places, where the water is cold, and which the sun rarely penetrates. You are not kind to them yourselves, and, besides, you allow visitors to tease them.

These errors alone are sufficient to prevent the mother bringing forth a calf that will thrive.

In your cold and variable climates you would do well to have an enclosed place, a kind of conservatory covered over with glass, arranged so as to be opened in warm weather, particularly when the sun shines, and closed during the greater part of the winter, at which time the water, in which the beasts swim, should be warmed by a genial heat diffused through the building. This plan would be much more profitable than your actual dear economy.

If from any cause it is found judicious to separate the mother and the young one, care should be taken to effect the separation immediately after the birth, before the natural food has been tasted, or at least before it has become familiar to the young one, and the calf should be placed where it cannot hear the mother's moaning call.

Warmed sand and moss should be in readiness, in which to immerse and all but cover the little one.

Goat's milk, or other substitutes for the mother's milk, must be administered whilst quite warm and just drawn from the goat. If allowed to stand, the liquid would injure instead of doing good, and even if artificially warmed would not be so beneficial as the new milk.

It is not improbable that the calf will at first refuse the proffered beverage. The expedients for causing the animal to drink should be devised so as to avoid all unnecessary annoyance, and if this precaution be attended to the animal will of its own accord soon drink the warm milk, and take other proper food.

The room where the young one is kept should be of an equal warmth both day and night. In a state of nature the mother obtains this equalization of the temperature, and protects the young one from the comparative chilliness of the night air by lying across the sand in which she has placed the object of her care.

The removal of the young one from the mother is effected with ease; and as this process is with you accompanied by many inconveniences, besides being very difficult and dangerous, a few hints as to our mode of proceeding may be of use.

We have four very long sockets peculiarly formed at their base, so that they can be thrust for a long distance into the sandy ground, and there take the firmest hold. They are placed at certain distances about the spot where the mother lies, and into them are inserted four poles of great strength, so arranged that they stand at the angles of a square or parallelogram, sustaining a framework surmounted by planks sufficiently strong to support four men in case of need, though sometimes two only are required. The men, who are very skilful, are stationed one on each side of the plank, armed with a large strong net, made of a soft and agreeable material, which, as soon as the young one is born, they let down very gradually, so as to disturb the mother as little as possible. Should she be annoyed at the appearance of the net, they hold their hands, keeping it suspended, and as soon as she is appeased and closes her eyes, let it down again, still very slowly, almost imperceptibly, until it has reached the ground, close to where the young one is lying, so contriving that when the little creature moves it will be upon the net.

As soon as the young one is fairly on the net, the men apply several long canes furnished with grappling-hooks, and draw up the net containing the young one. While doing this, they throw over the mother a material which impedes her movement, and which we call by a name that may be freely translated, "Clinging Flannel." The animal thus encumbered cannot disentangle herself for a few minutes, more than sufficient to secure the capture of the little one, which, as soon as it has been raised is let down into a vehicle ready to receive it. The instant this is done, the driver and all being in readiness, the horses start off at full gallop, and the calf is secured in a place far out of hearing of the mother.

We can almost invariably tell whether the mother is likely to destroy the young one; and if from this or other causes a separation is necessary, a similar course is pursued, even when the mother is at large. If we had not effective means of driving off the rest of the herd, the difficulty of the operation of removal would be greatly increased, for, strange to say, as soon as the calf is born numbers of hippopotami assemble at certain distances and form a wide circle round the spot where the mother and little one are lying. They do not interfere with or annoy them in any way, but, on the contrary, they stand still, look at them, and utter wild, joyous sounds, as though they were pleased with the mother and the little visitor. In Montalluyah we call this "the hippopotamus's visit of congratulation."

Before I describe the mode adopted when we wish to take one of the hippopotami from the herd, I should first premise that these beasts have the sense of hearing, acute to the highest degree, and could note even the fall of a pin. As, therefore, it is useless to try to approach them by stealth, the keepers approach them openly.

These men are, however, clothed with a dress which covers every part of the body, head and extremities indeed even the face, with the exception of the eyes, but which is made of a very pliable material, so that the wearer has free use of his body and limbs. It is saturated with the antipathetic solution, of which I have spoken above.

There is a three-cornered nut called the "lava-nut," of which the animals are very fond, and they will go a long distance in search of it. The keepers are provided with a quantity of these nuts, and the man with whom the animals are most familiar throws a few to the one selected. As soon as the animal has tasted them, he advances a few paces. The keeper, throwing more nuts, retires a few paces; and as he continues throwing, the animal advances, the keeper receding and throwing the nuts until he has attracted the beast for some distance from the herd.