At the end of the first day they had got well down the mountain, and the commencement of the second day's ride was over a nearly level plateau.
"This is a good place for Ki Sing to ride," suggested Ben.
"Just so," said Bradley, taking the hint.—"Ki Sing, you must take your turn now."
"No wantee lide," said the Chinaman, but he did not greet the proposal with so much alarm as on the morning previous. He had noticed the quiet behavior and regular pace of the two mustangs, and concluded that they were of a different kind from those he had seen misbehave on former occasions.
"Oh, you'll like it well enough when you try it, Ki Sing," said Bradley. "Were you ever on a horse's back?"
"Me never lide," answered the Chinaman.
"Then it is high time you began. You see, Ki Sing, it isn't exactly fair that Ben and I should ride half the time and leave you to walk all the way."
"Likee walk," said Ki Sing.
"That's because you never tried riding. You see, these two hosses of ours are jest like lambs. They're so gentle they could be rid by a two-year-old baby."
The Chinaman looked at the mustangs, and confidence came to him. So far as he had observed, what Jake Bradley said was strictly true. They certainly did seem remarkably tame.