The spot with the pile of rocks, where my cannon had been planted, bore ample testimony to the high explosive quality of my powder, for nothing was left in place and everything which had been in contact with the piece was beautifully blackened. My frightened Links seemed to be anything but confident that I was not likely to burst myself, with a loud report, and scatter devastation everywhere. They stood off a distance that was more than merely respectful and were not to be induced to return to my side by any persuasion or assurances for more than an hour. I had no doubt they thought me a bit of a devil, for even Fatty and the children were afraid to return to my side. The single exception to this unanimity of feeling was furnished by my little favourite chap who seemed so human. This tot of a Link had been much neglected of late, so busy had I been with work. Now when he came and clung to my leg, as I stood in the camp eating a mango and thinking busily, I looked down in his tiny face and felt happy to see him so near. Sitting down against my rock, in the sun-light, I let him cuddle down in his usual place, and together we enjoyed a time of peace. It became one of those natural spells of rest. I felt like easing off on the pressure of work for a time, having accomplished really all that seemed to be needful by way of making ready to receive any invaders of our village who might choose to come. The attitude of Tike—as I called my little friend—did much to re-convince the Links of my normal, pacific intentions. Fatty was the first to return, doubtless actuated by a trifling touch of jealousy. After him the others came edging back, one by one, every individual inordinately curious to see if I were in any manner altered by the extraordinary disturbance which I had so recently created. All that day they evinced alarm and a readiness to run whenever I stirred about. For the powder, carefully stored away, they possessed a profound distrust and respect. During the next few days I sat around for much of the time, always with wistful little Tike nestled up under my arm. The tiny chap seemed more quiet than before, if possible, and somewhat thinner. All the other little Links were as fat, rolly, bright-eyed and lively as so many Pah Ute Indian papooses, and equally red and naked, but Tike was almost a sad little fellow. He leaned his head against me by the hour, sighing now and again, and patting my big, brown hand with his wee, red one, as if there could be no greater content and happiness in the world.