Joe smiled and shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so,” he said quietly. “I’ll just wander around here for a while until I get my mountain legs under me.”
“Suit yourself,” Hank Dawson replied. “What’s your pleasure, gents?” he said, turning back to the boys.
“How do you mean?” Sandy asked.
“What do you want to go out after—giraffes, elephants, saber-toothed tigers—you name it!”
“You’re the boss,” Mike said, grinning. “You say!”
Hank paused and considered the question. “Well,” he said slowly, “how about trying for an Oreamnos montanus?”
“A what?”
“A mountain goat to you, Mike.”
“A mountain goat!” Mike’s face fell. “I thought we were going to go after some big game—not a billy goat!”
Hank laughed. “Don’t kid yourself—if you’ll pardon the pun. A mountain goat is my personal candidate for the most dangerous animal in the world.”