s paws upon my shoulders, threw up its muzzle, and
uttered a deep-toned bay.

"That's all right," said the man; "you and he will be good friends now.
Can I do anything for you? Start this morning, don't you?"

"Yes," said Gunson, "I'm off directly."

"Right; my wife will bring you some breakfast.--Come along."

He went to the door, and the great dog followed him with his muzzle
down; but as soon as he was outside he ran back to me, thrust his great
head against my side, uttered a loud bark, and then trotted off.

A few minutes after an Indian woman, dressed partly in English fashion,
came in with a kettle of tea and some cake and bacon, which she
smilingly placed ready for us, while Quong stood over by the fire
looking very serious and troubled.

Gunson smiled and gave me a cheery look, and we sat down to the early
meal; but I did not feel hungry, and was playing with my breakfast when
Mr Raydon came in, looking quiet and firm as he wished us good morning.

"Quite ready for your start then?" he said; "quite decided to go
to-day?"

"Quite," replied Gunson, shortly. "If you come back this way I shall be
glad to see you," continued our host.

"Thank you. I hope to come back safely some day, and," he said, turning
to me, "to see how you are getting on."

"I shall be very glad to see you again," I said warmly; for though I did
not feel that I exactly liked the prospector, there was something beside
gratitude which attracted me to him.

"The Chinaman goes with you, I suppose?" said Mr Raydon, glancing to
where Quong stood, looking troubled and uneasy at being superseded.

"I don't know. He is free, and not tied to me in any way."

"What are you going to do?" said Mr Raydon, turning sharply on the
little fellow.

"Light n'--make blead--plenty tea hot--stlong. Cookee, velly much
cookee. Speak ploper English, allee same Melican man."

"Yes; but are you going on with Mr Gunson here?"

Quong looked at the prospector and then at me and at Esau, his little
black eyes twinkling, and his face as full of lines as a walnut-shell;
but Gunson made no sign, only went on with his breakfast.

"No wantee me," said Quong, shaking his head. "Go washee washee gole,
no wantee Quong."

"Then if I offered you work, would you like to stay here for a while?"

"Make blead, flesh blead? Yes, Quong going stop."

He looked at us and laughed.

Then Gunson spoke.

"Yes," he said, "he had better stay. I can carry my own p