The Overbearing Hippo

by Matías Travieso-Diaz

A dog was crossing a plank bridge over a stream with a piece of meat in his mouth when he happened to see his own reflection in the water. He thought it was another dog with a piece of meat twice as big; so, he let go of his own, and flew at the other dog to get the larger piece. But, of course, all that happened was that he got neither; for one was only a shadow, and the other was carried away by the current.
— Aesop, “The Dog and the Shadow”

* * *

Joho was the territorial leader of a large pod of male, female, and young hippopotamuses — “hippos” — that dwelt on the banks of a muddy river in Tanzania. He had achieved that privileged status by being much older (over seven decades in age) and chunkier (he weighed almost three tons) and noisier (he had a very powerful “wheeze-honk” always followed by a resonant bellow) than all other hippos. When he had been challenged, he had attacked viciously those, male or female, that had attempted to dispute his authority, and he had soundly defeated them all.

Joho’s only real enemies were the bands of crocodiles that also dwelt in the river. Hippos and crocs have been rivals for millennia, one species or the other prevailing depending on their relative numbers and other circumstances. Most recently, crocs in Tanzania had experienced adverse environmental factors, including high salinity in the water and abnormally high temperatures, which had forced them to cede control over this river to the hippos, including those led by Joho.

Joho was disliked by many of his subjects. First, there was his appearance: his purplish-grey skin secreted an orange sunscreen substance, whose color clashed with the more discrete sheen that other members of the pod exhibited; his short legs made his gait ungainly as he trotted on land; his movements in the water were clumsy, and he could not swim or float. Other hippos in his pod would mock him behind his back, though all were solicitous when addressing him for fear of the sharp canines he often bared to keep his subjects at bay.

Then there was Joho’s behavior: he forced his way into having sex with every female in the pod, regardless of age or physical condition, and he yawned loudly after intercourse as if bemoaning his profligate expenditure of sexual energy, though his testes had never descended and his amatory encounters were brief and unremarkable.

He also engaged frequently in “muck-spreading,” defecating in large quantities while spinning his tail rapidly to spread the feces over a wide area behind him, regardless of whether in doing so he doused excrement upon hippos or other living creatures that might be present in the vicinity. He would forcibly push away other hippos who might be feeding in the area of the riverbank where he preferred to graze. He was loud and antagonistic and ruled by fear rather than good will.

* * *

Joho noticed that his heavy trampling and voracious eating had depressed the ground and caused damage to the vegetation along the particular shore path he always followed and, as a result, each night he had to travel farther inland to find good morsels to eat. Having to do so was not much of a burden, but he felt it was inconsistent with his high status.

He also observed that the grasses growing by the shore in the areas of the river adjacent to his domain appeared greener and more appetizing than those on which he normally trod. Based on these two factors, he concluded it was time to enlarge his pod’s domain to include those adjacent sections of the river and decided to lead his subjects in a mission of conquest into foreign territory.

The entire pod, headed by Joho, waded ponderously upriver towards the realm of the next hippo community. As they marched, they emitted raucous wheeze-honks that resonated for miles. For that reason, any element of surprise that might have aided their invasion was lost and, when they reached the boundary with the territory of their neighbors, they were met by a solid line of alarmed and angry hippos barring their way.

Joho advanced a few paces ahead of his troops and bellowed an imperious challenge, expecting that his soon to be subjects would cower before his might. However, three male hippos, each of them only slightly smaller than he, came forward and faced him threateningly, bellowing in defiance and evidencing the intent of charging against him together.

Joho had never been in a situation in which he faced defeat and possible injury. He continued to growl for a few moments to save face, then he turned around and retreated, motioning the members of his pod to follow him back home.

* * *

Later, Joho launched another incursion against his neighbors on the other end of the river. However, by now his exploits were well known and his new invasion was rebuffed just as strongly as his first attempt had been, forcing him to withdraw in defeat.

* * *

Joho’s failed attempts to take control of river areas beyond his own domain ultimately had adverse consequences for him. He still ruled his pod, but challenges to his authority began to emerge. When Joho’s pod became unable to expand its foraging area, the portion of the shore from which the pod drew sustenance became increasingly barren, forcing some starving hippos to feed on carrion and small animals and fish; other hippos began to migrate singly or in small groups to more propitious sections of the river; those who remained often challenged or ignored his orders, and females learned to resist his advances.

Joho’s empire rapidly disintegrated, and a season or two after the failure of his expansionary moves, crocs began to return to the river and ultimately forced him and his remaining followers to flee for their lives. For nature has the last word: greed, vanity and ambition are punished, and order is eventually restored.