Page 12 - Fables volume 1

How the Hippopotamus Caught a God in

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Borgo, pausing between patches of river weed, noticed his younger
brother gazing fixedly at a clump of greenery on the other bank.
“Hey, you’ll get stuck in the mud if you stand too long in one
place,” growled Borgo.
Lumu blinked and snorted steamily. He shifted his already
considerable bulk and lifted his hooves in succession, making four
distinct popping sounds of suction release.
“There. I can get out of this shallow stuff easily, Borgo. No need to
fret.”
“Well, you’d better wrap your jaws around some of this grass before
I eat it all. I shouldn’t have to remind you that pigs may be among our
ancestors, as well as water spirits, sky demons and other semi-mortal
notables.”
“Oh, yes, I remember all those stories, Elder Brother, but my brief
experience in life has thus far inculcated belief only in the porcine
heritage of us hippopotami. Certainly, you have yet to provide
evidence indicating otherwise in your own behavior.”
Borgo shrugged and incisively ripped up another stand of weeds.
He masticated them noisily, smacking his lips with gusto.
“Now why are you starting at the foliage on the side of the river?”
he said, once again catching Lumu in a state of intense concentration.
“It looks delicious, that’s why. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could have
some of it? I wonder…”
“Garoonk! Nothing to wonder about,” grunted Borgo. He waddled
over to Lumu’s side, where a few tender young shoots had gone as yet
unmolested. “It’s all the same, over there or over here. Besides, the
current is very fast in the middle of the river: if you tried to swim
across, you’d be swept downstream a couple of kilometers before you
could reach the other shore.”
Lumu whirled his short little tail like a propeller, spinning off his
agitation. “So what? All I’d have to do is go upstream on this side a
couple of kilometers before I started. Then I’d land in the right place.”

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