"Yes, that I will, Poeskop," said Tom quickly. "You’re a good fellow to bring in the head. It’s a fine one, isn’t it?" "Ja, Baas Tom," added Poeskop; "a right good head. That eland was a big, full-grown bull, seven years old at least." They trekked next morning, and, travelling for two days over more open country, reached a picturesque region of hills and kopjes. It was among these hills that a somewhat singular adventure overtook them. Tom, who had quite recovered his spirits, had been out with his father, Guy, and Poeskop in search of klipspringer. They had bagged a brace of these charming little antelopes, and were now passing through a poort or pass to another range of hills. On the rocky heights above a troop of baboons barked angrily at them, from the shelter of some dark bush and greenery, through which their hideous, satyr-like faces could be occasionally seen. "Shall I have a shot at one, uncle?" said Guy. "It would serve the brutes right for making that hideous row. One might think the place belonged to them." "No, don’t fire, Guy," answered Mr. Blakeney. "They’re troublesome rascals; but they won’t interfere with us, and it’s a pity to waste a cartridge. After all, they are so seldom molested here that I suppose they consider the place belongs to them. Here they are harmless. Down in Cape Colony they are a pest, and one is bound to get rid of them. Years ago some baboon discovered that the milk paunch of a young kid was a pleasant thing to devour. His discovery spread, and farmers now lose hundreds of unfortunate goats, killed in this way by baboons. And so they have to be shot or poisoned, or otherwise got rid of. They’re artful brutes, and very difficult to circumvent." Guy and Tom looked rather longingly at the big apes, running excitedly through the bushes above them, and making the while a most unpleasant din. Presently they crossed the smooth, sandy bed of a periodical stream. Here Poeskop, who was a little ahead, halted, and began to examine the ground very curiously. An exclamation or two escaped him. He moved forward, took a turn towards the hillside, and came back. "What is it, Poeskop?" asked Mr. Blakeney, who had been watching the little man curiously. "Come with me, baas," said the Bushman, with a puzzled look on his face. "I will show you a strange thing." They walked forward, and Poeskop directed their attention to the spoor of some animals which had been moving about the valley. "What does the baas see?" queried the Bushman. "I see the spoor of _baviaans_ [baboons]," answered Mr. Blakeney, examining the soil. "Yes," broke in Tom, "baboons, right enough. But what’s this?--something besides baboons." Mr. Blakeney and Guy moved forward to where Tom stood, and saw instantly that other footprints were mingled with those of the great apes. Mr. Blakeney stooped, and examined critically the smooth sand and the whole tracery of footprints displayed so clearly.