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Before proceeding twenty paces on his way, he was startled by the report of a gun. The sound was followed by a howl of pain, which he knew came from the hound Spoor'em. At the same instant, trotting out from some bushes on the brow of the hill, he saw two mounted men. One glance told him they were the men he had seen the evening before it the house of Van Ormon.
The last ray of daylight had fled from the valley of the Limpopo, when Willem and Hendrik, provided with a torch and accompanied by the Kaffir and the dog Spoor'em, again set forth to seek for their lost companion. The animal answering to the name Spoor'em was a large Spanish bloodhound, now led forth to perform the first duty required of him in the expedition.
It drew nearer; and just as he thought it was about to spring upon him, it uttered a low, moaning noise. Congo recognised the dog Spoor'em. For a moment there was joy in the African's soul. The faithful dog was still living, and had not forsaken him. If he was to die, it would be in company of the most affectionate friend a man can have among the brute creation.
The dog, when quite young, had been brought from one of the Portuguese settlements at the north, purchased by Groot Willem and christened Spoor'em by Congo. In the long journey from Graaf Reinet, this brute had been the cause of more trouble than all the other dogs of the pack.
The elements soon after opened upon them, but still they kept on in the midst of the pelting rain, consoling themselves for what was disagreeable, by the reflection that they were performing their duty to their lost friend. It was not until the thunder-shower had passed over, that Spoor'em began to show some doubt as to the course he was pursuing.
Such were the reveries of Hendrik and Arend as they followed their Kaffir guide through the gloom of the night. To all appearance, Congo had some secret method of communicating to the dog Spoor'em what was required of him. The animal ran to the right and left, keeping a little in the advance, and with its muzzle close down to the surface, as if searching for a spoor.
"I feel sorry about having to leave Congo behind," said Willem, as the cattle were being driven across the stream. "Not that I care a straw for him, the ungrateful wretch, but that we may be unable to find the spoor of the giraffes, not having him with us. He and Spoor'em would be worth everything now." "I think," rejoined his brother, "there's not much chance of our recovering them.
"Let us go back," said Willem, "and more carefully examine the tracks." During this conversation, the hunters had reloaded their rifles, and now remounted for the purpose of riding back. "Baas Willem," suggested Congo, "let Spoor'em try 'bout here little more." This suggestion was adopted, and Congo, setting on the hound, proceeded to describe a larger circle around the spot.
So thought Hendrik as he called the attention of Willem to the fact that they had started out for the purpose of finding the spoor but not following it; that they would require the help of Congo and Spoor'em; that they must provide themselves with food and other articles necessary for a two or three days' journey.
After again requesting that Willem should be told to wait his return, he hastened away, followed by the dog Spoor'em. There was a mystery in the conduct of the man that Hans could not comprehend in any other way than by taking the explanation he had himself given. Congo seemed certainly either to be a fool or acting in a very foolish way.
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