"It’s a strange thing," he said, half to himself; "but one could almost swear that here was the spoor of a child." He glanced sharply at Poeskop, who had remained silent, but was now regarding him with an odd smile on his yellow face. "Yes," said the little Bushman, in response to his master’s look; "that is the spoor of a child--a baboon boy!" "A baboon boy, Poeskop?" reiterated Mr. Blakeney. "What do you mean?" "Well, baas," answered Poeskop, "I mean this. We Bushmen, and other natives of this country, know that sometimes the baboons carry off a child and bring it up with them, and the creature lives with them and grows wild and picks up their habits. It is not often that it happens, but it does sometimes. There is a baboon boy here, among these hills--that is certain. Here, you see, is his spoor, as plain as daylight. There are his footmarks, and there the prints of his fingers. He runs on all fours, just like a baviaan." "It seems a queer yarn," said Mr. Blakeney, looking at the spoor musingly, "and I never heard of such a thing before. Can it be true? What becomes of the poor thing?" "Well, baas," answered Poeskop, "I don’t think they often grow up. The life is too hard for them. But my father once told me that he knew of a wild man who lived among the baboons, far away yonder"--the Bushman pointed north-east--"and was called the King of the Baboons. He was killed by a native tribe, who began to be afraid of him and the apes he lived with." "A strange story, indeed," said Mr. Blakeney. "Well, we can’t let this poor wretch stay with these baboons. We must hunt them up and try to get hold of him." "It will be a tough job, baas," said Poeskop; "but we will try." "How shall we do it, Poeskop?" said Guy. "Go after them now, and try to shoot the old men baboons?" "No, Baas Guy," said the Bushman, "that would be no good. We should never catch them up these hills, and we might shoot the wrong baboon and kill the boy. Leave it to me. I will hide up here among the rocks, and follow up the troop. They will go to rest at sundown in some cave; and if I can mark the place, we can go for them at night, and perhaps take the boy." So Poeskop was left among the wild hills, while Mr. Blakeney and the boys strolled quietly back to the wagon--which was now outspanned at the entrance to the kopjes--and made ready for the evening. They had supper, and presently, a little before eight o’clock, Poeskop walked quietly into the camp. "Well, Poeskop," chorused the two boys, "what’s the news? Have you marked them down?" "Ja, baas," said the Bushman, a pleased smile playing on his features, "I have marked them down." "Baboon boy and all?" "Ja, baboon boy and all. They are gone to sleep in a big cave, not far from where we saw them, and we shall find them presently." "That’s excellent," said Mr. Blakeney. "Now, Poeskop, get your supper and have a pipe. When shall we start?"