Tobi the Baby Hippo Who Was Shy of the Deep Brown River

On the banks of a wide brown river, under a hot African sky, there lived a family of hippos. There was Papa Hippo, who was as big as a boulder. There was Mama Hippo, who had a laugh like a bubbling pot. There were the aunties and the uncles and the cousins. And there was the smallest hippo of all, Tobi.

Tobi was round and pinkish-grey, with little twitchy ears, a wide smiley mouth, and short stumpy legs. He was a very happy baby hippo. He liked rolling in the cool mud. He liked nibbling the sweet green grass. He liked lying in the shallow water at the edge of the river, where it only came up to his tummy.

But he did not like the deep water.

Every day, when the sun grew hot, all the grown-up hippos waded out into the middle of the river. They sank down until only their eyes and ears and noses poked out, like smooth brown stones in the water. They stayed there all afternoon, cool and comfortable, blowing bubbles and wiggling their ears.

"Come on, Tobi!" called his cousins. "It's lovely and cool out here!"

But Tobi stayed in the shallow part. The deep water was brown and murky, and he could not see the bottom. What if it went down forever? What if he sank and could not come up?

"I like it here," he said, sitting firmly in the mud.

Mama Hippo did not push him. "When you are ready," she said, "the river will be waiting."

The days passed. Tobi grew a little bigger. But the hot afternoons got hotter, and the shallow water at the edge got warmer and warmer, like a bath that had been left in the sun. Tobi's back started to feel dry and itchy. He splashed mud on himself, but it dried in minutes.

Out in the middle, his cousins blew happy bubbles. Tobi watched them and felt hot and lonely.

One afternoon, a little bird with bright blue wings landed on a reed beside him. It was a kingfisher.

"Why are you sitting all alone in the warm water, little hippo?" asked the kingfisher.

"I'm scared of the deep part," Tobi admitted. "I can't see the bottom. What if it goes down forever?"

The kingfisher tilted her head. "Well," she said, "I can see the bottom. I dive in every day to catch my lunch. Shall I tell you a secret about this river?"

Tobi nodded.

"The deep part," said the kingfisher, "is only as deep as your Papa is tall. Not forever at all. And underneath the brown water, the bottom is soft, smooth sand. Like a big cool bed."

Tobi blinked. "Really?"

"Really," said the kingfisher. "And here's another secret. Hippos don't really swim at all. They walk on the bottom, and they push off and float up when they need a breath. You were made for this river, little one."

Then she zipped off over the water, a flash of blue, and dived in with a tiny plip.

Tobi thought about what the kingfisher had said. Only as deep as Papa is tall. Soft, smooth sand. Made for this river.

He stood up. He took one step forward, out of the warm shallow water. The river came up to his chest. It was cooler here. He took another step. It came up to his chin. It was cooler still, and it felt good on his itchy back.

His heart was beating fast. He wanted to go back.

Then he saw Mama Hippo. She had swum over very quietly, and now she was right beside him, her big kind eyes just above the water.

"I'm right here," she said. "Shall we go together?"

Tobi pressed close against Mama's warm side. He took a deep breath, filling his chest with air. He closed his nose tightly, the way hippos can. And he let himself sink.

Down, down, down he went. The water closed over his ears. Everything went quiet and brown and cool, all around him.

And then his feet touched the bottom.

It was soft, smooth sand, just as the kingfisher had said. It was cool under his toes, like a big cool bed. And beside him, he could feel Mama's big shape, walking slowly along the river floor.

Tobi walked too. One step. Two steps. Three. Little silver fish darted past his nose. A long green water plant brushed his cheek like a tickle. It was not scary at all. It was peaceful, and calm, and wonderfully cool.

When he needed a breath, he pushed off the sand with his stumpy legs. Up, up, up he floated, and his nose popped out into the sunshine.

Pfffff! He blew out a big spray of water.

"Tobi!" shouted all his cousins together. "You came!"

Tobi laughed, and water went up his nose, and he sneezed, which made everyone laugh even harder. He sank down so that only his eyes and ears and nose poked out, like a little smooth stone. Then he wiggled his ears, just like the grown-ups.

He spent the whole afternoon in the deep water with his family. He walked along the sandy bottom with his cousins. He blew bubbles that went blub, blub, blub. He floated on his back and looked up at the big blue sky, and his back did not itch at all anymore.

When the sun began to sink, painting the river orange and gold, the kingfisher landed on a reed nearby.

"Well, little hippo," she said, "does the river go down forever?"

"No," said Tobi happily. "Only as deep as Papa is tall. And at the bottom, there's a big cool bed."

That evening, the hippo family climbed out onto the riverbank to munch the sweet grass in the moonlight. Tobi was tired in the best way. His legs were wobbly. His tummy was rumbling. And his heart felt as big as the river.

"Mama," he said, as he snuggled against her for the night, "I'm glad the river waited for me."

"It always would have," said Mama Hippo softly. "But I'm glad you went to find it."