Chapter Fifty Six.
The Search for Willem.
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. Most of the time it was out of sight, hidden by the darkness, but every now and then it would flit like a shadow across their track, and they could hear an occasional sniff as it lifted the scent from the ground.
They had not proceeded more than half a mile in this manner when Spoor’em expressed a more decided opinion of something that interested him, by giving utterance to a short, sharp bark.
“He’s found the spoor,” exclaimed Congo, hastening forward. “I told um do that, and I knowed he would.”
They were all soon up with the dog, which kept moving forward at a slow trot, occasionally lowering its snout to the grass, as though to make sure against going astray. Unlike most other hounds, Spoor’em would follow a track without rushing forward on the scent, and leaving the hunters behind.
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. “He find anything that go over the grass.”