On some of the outlying stones Ike and Wah Shin were seated, eagerly watching the chief, while their faces showed that they were taking anything but a hopeful view of the situation.
"Mistah Sam, w'at you t'ink 'bout dis time?" asked Ike as he placed a blanket for his young master to sit on.
"I hardly know what to think, Ike," was the reply.
"Don't you t'ink we made a mistake?"
"In what way, Ike?"
"By comin' up out ob dat canyon."
"Would you want to stay there forever?"
"Wa'al, not adzackly; but if I had any choosin 'bout it I'd a heap sight rudder be dar dan heah. I neber did hab no use for a Injun nohow. Jest only tink, dey's been a-watchin' an' a-watchin' Maj, an' a-lickin' ob dar lips as if dey was feelin' how he tasted. But if dey gits away wid dat dog den dey'll hab to steal him whin dis yar chile's asleep," said Ike, and he reached out and pulled the dog nearer to him by means of a rope he had fastened about his neck.
"Dogee, he no so belly bad fol to make eat. Way off Chinaland fat dogee allee same's nice lilly tulkey. Big man he like him muchee heap."
"Wa'al," said Ike, with ludicrous contempt, "I tanks de Great Mastah I ain't a Injun or a Chinee. Dar's only two decent kind ob people; one's black, like me, de odder's w'ite like Mistah Sam. But," he added, with a sigh, "I don't go foh to blame no one jest kase dey's so unfortnit as not to be ob de right culah."