Like a child, his true analogue, he observes, apprehends, misapprehends, and is usually silent.

As in a child, a considerable intemperance of speech is accompanied by some power of secrecy.

News he publishes; his thoughts have often to be dug for.

He looks on at the rude career of the dollar-hunt, and wonders.

He sees these men rolling in a luxury beyond the ambition of native kings; he hears them accused by each other of the meanest trickery; he knows some of them to be guilty; and what is he to think?
He is strongly conscious of his own position as the common milk-cow; and what is he to do?
"Surely these white men on the beach are not great chiefs ?" is a common question, perhaps asked with some design of flattering the person questioned.