Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 25, 2025
The faithful animal that would not resist its master's ill-treatment, was but too ready to defend that master from the attack of a third party. In the bark of Spoor'em there was an idiosyncrasy. It was heard and instantly recognised. The moment after Congo had the pleasure of hearing the tramp of horses, as they came trotting down the hill; and the voice of Willem calling out to him!
By that time, the heavy rain had obliterated the spoor so completely that even Spoor'em, the hound, could only follow it with great difficulty. After a time, Congo saw that the horse-tracks separated, going in different directions. He followed one set of them for some time till the horse himself was found, but without saddle, bridle, or rider.
The loss of his "mount" did not trouble him so much as the fear that he should lose Spoor'em, his favourite hound, whose sufferings, as well as those of the other dogs, were now painful to witness. By this time they had journeyed a few miles beyond the poisoned pond; the shade of night had again commenced gathering over the plain.
Arend and Hendrik knew this, though still uncertain about being on the traces of Groot Willem. The night was so dark they could not distinguish footmarks, and they had not the slightest evidence of their own for believing that they were on the tracks of Willem's horse. "How do you know that we are going right, Cong?" asked Hendrik. "We follow Spoor'em; he know it," answered the Kaffir.
Spoor'em had now advanced to within fifteen paces of where the lion lay, and commenced baying a menace; as if commanding the lion to forsake his unfinished repast. An angry growl was all the answer Spoor'em could obtain; and the lion lay still. "We must either kill or drive him away," said Willem. "Which shall we try?" "Kill him," answered Hendrik; "that will be our safest plan."
The angry roars of the lion, and the hideous laughter of the hyenas, proceeded from a spot only a few yards in advance, and in the direction Spoor'em was leading them. The moon had risen, and by its light the searchers soon beheld the creatures that were causing the tumult.
The hoof-marks of Arend's horse were again found, and the bloodhound was unleashed and set upon them. Unlike most hounds, Spoor'em did not dash onward, leaving his followers far behind. He appeared to think that it would be for the mutual advantage of himself and his masters that they should remain near each other. The latter, therefore, had no difficulty in keeping up with the dog.
His home was with Groot Willem, and he seemed to have no more concern or remembrance for Graaf Reinet than his dog Spoor'em. Choosing a convenient place for their encampment within a few miles of the Bechuana village, the youths resolved to stop for a while, and make a final effort at capturing the camelopards.
If not, he has Spoor'em along with him. We should probably meet him on his way if we were to go up the river." "But we don't want to go up at present," said Hendrik. "Our way is down." "Then we had better stay here till he comes." While they were thus talking, there was heard a dull, heavy sound, accompanied by a real or fancied vibration of the earth.
"What shall we do, Willem?" asked Hendrik. "Go back to the halting-place and bring Congo and Spoor'em," answered Willem, as he turned towards the camp, and rode off, followed by his cousin.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking