Herb didn't think he'd ever seen a hippopotamus run as fast as Matilda was moving when she passed him. He wasn't thinking cheetah-fast, or pronghorn antelope-fast, but for a chubby, short-legged mammal weighing about 5000 pounds, she was moving right along.
In fact, he was thinking she probably hadn't thought about her stopping distance, until she really had to stand on the brakes to keep from crashing into the brush at the end of the clearing. She did stop in time (barely), and trotted back up to him at a more sedate, ladylike pace.
"Did you see me go by, Herb?"
"Well, Tilly (she professed to hate him calling her that), I saw something go by, but it was just a streak. I didn't realize it was you until you stopped."
She gave him a droll look. "I know you're putting me on but, really, wasn't it amazing? And did you notice that I was actually flying?"
He gave her a hard look. "It certainly was impressive. Hippos are not noted for our speed. But what's this about flying? No question, you were 'flying' down the track, but if you mean 'flying,' as in getting airborne, I guess I missed that."
"I must have been moving too fast for you to catch it, but I was very definitely airborne - I mean, all four feet off the ground at the same time."
"No, Tilly, I guess I missed that part of the performance. I must have looked away, momentarily. How high did you soar?"
"Herb, I didn't 'soar' anywhere! I just got completely off the ground. I mean, there was clearly space between me and the earth. You didn't see it?"
Herb took another moment to try to read her expression. He decided she was either an exceptional actor, or she really believed what she was saying. He tried to be calmly reasonable. "Tilly, you were certainly moving faster than many would think possible for a hippo, but leaving the ground? I hate to mention a lady's weight, but.. Anyway, why do you think you were flying?"
"Because the scientists have pictures!"
"Scientists? What scientists are you talking about?"
"They're camped over by the waterhole. They're human, and I think maybe from England, wherever that is. At least, I think I recognize their accents. I stopped and listened to them for a while, last night. It was really interesting."
"And they said you could fly?"
"Not 'fly,' like soaring up in the air, but getting off the ground. I heard the scientists say that we were the only large mammals who can do that. Rhinos can move really fast..."
"Yes, I have had more than one encounter with a charging rhino."
"But even though they can change their gait - they can walk, trot, and run - they can't do what we do. And elephants - well, they can't do anything different. No matter how fast or slow they go, their gait is always the same. That whole Dumbo thing - elephants soaring around the skies - is just a myth."
"Tilly, you do know that Dumbo is a myth, don't you? You know he's just a cartoon?"
"Well, of course I know that, silly. What I'm saying is that the concept of an elephant flying is wrong. As I said, no matter how fast or slow an elephant moves, it always moves the same way."
Herb thought about that a moment. "So, what is it that we're supposed to do? How far up in the air do we get, and how long are we airborne?"
"Obviously, Herb, we don't get very far off the ground. The point is that we do get off the ground, which I guess is remarkable for any animal as... well, as full-figured as we are. As to how long we can stay up, they say that on a run like I just did, I was in the air about 15 percent of the time."
"Fifteen percent? Surely, I would have noticed if you were up in the air that long?"
"Well, that isn't all at once. Each time I cleared the ground, it lasted about seven-tenths of a second. I was constantly going up and down."
Herb wanted to scoff, but stifled it. "So, it doesn't sound quite so impressive when you put it that way, but I guess any elevation for an animal of our avoirdupois is a feat. So, Tilly, how did your scientists come by this remarkable information?"
"Standing outside their tent, I couldn't hear everything they said. What I think they did is spend hours and hours - maybe days and days! - looking frame-by-frame through movies of hippos running, and counting the number of frames in which they could see daylight under hippo hooves. That came out to 15 percent of the frames. They knew how long it was between frames, so they could calculate that, every time a hippo went airborne, it was for about seven-tenths of a second."
"Wow. Impressive. So, what do we do with this knowledge?"
"Isn't it you who is always quoting John Donne that the beautiful is as useful as the useful?"
"It's Victor Hugo, not John Donne, but yes, that's the quote. However, he was comparing growing flowers - the beautiful - to growing vegetables - the useful. He was just saying that we shouldn't write off beauty just because we can't eat it. The soul needs food, too.
"So, can we consider hippo flying beautiful like a bouquet of flowers?"
"Isn't all knowledge beautiful, in some way?"
That stopped him for a moment. "Yes, I guess I do believe that. It's just that we know that probably half of all the animal and plant species in the world will probably be gone by the end of this century. The rest will likely follow - us, and humans, too -soon afterward, as a result of the continuing effects of climate change and global warming. Shouldn't somebody be doing something a little more pertinent to the problem than hippo-hopping?"
"Maybe, but haven't you said that there's really no hope - the changes have gone too far, us animals can't do anything, and humans won't? Why not do some pure science?"
"Oh, you're doing a Rome burning-Nero fiddling thing on me. If you can't put out the fire, then just keep on fiddling? Okay, I'll buy that
"I guess I just hoped that it was only me who had completely given up."
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