The three Spindrifters got down stiffly from their horses and found seats among the rocks next to the merchant. He smiled sympathetically. "You are stiff? These trails are very poor and one must travel them many times before one gets used to them." He took off his thick, horn-rimmed glasses and polished them on a scrap of silk. "After twenty years of it, I still find myself bent with weariness at the end of the day." Sing busied himself with getting food ready. The Spindrift bearers unpacked utensils and their own rations of rice and dried meat. Ko rose from his rocky seat and rearranged the long, flowing silk coat he wore. "I must be off. With your permission, I will proceed slowly, however, so that you will overtake me before nightfall." "Of course," Zircon said. "But may I ask why?" Ko's nearsighted eyes peered at the rifles carried in saddle sheaths on each of the three horses, and at Sing's shotgun. "I hope to take advantage of your weapons," he explained. "By nightfall we should reach Llhan Huang, which is a sort of crossroad. It marks the start of the Lenken country. The Lenkens are unlikely to attack a well-armed party of eight. But they delight in robbing a small party such as mine. For that reason, I usually manage to find a larger group to which to attach myself when entering the Llhan region." He smiled. "The armament you carry for hunting bharals will serve admirably to keep the Lenkens at a distance." The Spindrift party had been warned that the tribe known as Lenkens were dangerous to travelers. "We'll be delighted to have you join us," Zircon assured him. Rick was about to suggest that the portly Chinese merchant wait until after the Spindrifters had eaten so they could all travel together, but he thought better of it. Ko had been cordial, but he had shown little interest in the American "hunting" party and Rick thought he probably preferred to travel at his own speed and in his own way. Sing called that lunch was ready and they took mess kits to the fire and loaded them up with rice covered with a savory sauce, canned beef, and hot, crisp water chestnuts. As Rick sighed with gratitude over the first tasty mouthful, Scotty looked at the vanishing Ko party and mused, "Wonder how come he speaks English so perfectly?" Sing overheard. He grinned. "No reason for surprise. Many Chinese are educated in American and English colleges both in China and in other countries. Like myself. I am a graduate of Oberlin." "Guess that's right," Scotty admitted. "Worthington is a rather strange name for a Chinese, Sing," Rick remarked. The guide nodded. "It is. But I don't think it is his real one. Many Chinese take western first names, especially those who trade with westerners. That is because our own names are often too hard to say or remember." "Have you ever met Ko before?" Zircon asked. "Since you've traveled widely in this region, I thought you might have come across him before."