"I'd much rather shoot them than to run away," was Tom's opinion of the situation. "The dirty rascals; they are known to be the meanest set on the island, and we oughtn't show them any mercy."
By this time the boys were worked up into a fighting fever.
"I think we can lick the whole lot of them, and for my part, I am willing to wait here and take a shot at them; what do you say?" Ralph was really mad at the demons, as he called them.
The boys looked at each other. Harry was the only one who seemed to have the situation well in hand from a true hunter's standpoint. "If we stay here you will certainly get an opportunity, or I am very much mistaken."
"Why do you say so?" asked Tom.
"For the plain and simple reason that they will cross our tracks in all probability, and that will mean an easy trail."
"But how will they know which way to go after us? They may go down to the river."
"Well, they wouldn't be such idiots as to go in the opposite direction that the footprints of the yaks plainly show."
The boys had not thought of that.
"And then there is another thing, that just occurred to me. If they follow our tracks from the camping spot they will know we have made the detour in order to avoid them, and that will make them only the more anxious to make our closer acquaintance."