“Not so sure, Muscles,” Chuba said quietly. “These men fight and kill bears, tigers. Only use their knives.”
“Only guy that worries me is that one with the sawed-off shotgun,” Muscles decided.
“Why don’t they say something, Chuba? What are they waiting for?” Biff asked.
Chuba shrugged his shoulders.
“Can’t they talk? Can you understand their language?”
“They talk, sure. But be hard for Chuba to understand them. They speak what you call tribe dialect. Some Chinese words. Some words only they know.”
“Can they understand you?”
“Sure. They understand most Chinese talk. Not all words. But enough.”
“Ask them what they want.”
Chuba swallowed. He directed a rapid string of Chinese words at the man carrying the gun.