"I'll tell you what, fellows," said Hal. "I know where we can get a tiger."
"We'll get one in the neck if we don't watch out," replied George.
Ken thought that Hal looked very frank and earnest, and honest and eager, but there was never any telling about him.
"Where?" he asked, skeptically.
"Down along the river. You know I've been setting traps all along. There's a flat sand-bar for a good piece down. I came to a little gully full of big tracks, big as my two hands. And fresh!"
"Honest Injun, kid?" queried Ken.
"Hope to die if I'm lyin'," replied Hal. "I want to see somebody kill a tiger. Now let's go down there in the boat and wait for one to come to drink. There's a big log with driftwood lodged on it. We can hide behind that."
"Great idea, Hal," said Ken. "We'd be pretty safe in the boat. I want to say that tigers have sort of got on my nerves. I ought to go over in the jungle to look for the one I crippled. He's dead by now. But the longer I put it off the harder it is to go. I'll back out yet.... Come, we'll have an early dinner. Then to watch for Hal's tiger."
The sun had just set, and the hot breeze began to swirl up the river when Ken slid the boat into the water. He was pleased to find that it did not leak.
"We'll take only two guns," said Ken, "my .351 and the hammerless, with some ball-cartridges. We want to be quiet to-night, and if you fellows take your guns you'll be pegging at ducks and things. That won't do."