The Chinese people of this era generally wore queues, and unlike later generations, were extremely skinny. On top of that, there were also yellow-skinned Native Americans, so it was not surprising that the bailiff failed to recognize Zhang Heng's ancestry.
But when the bailiff dismounted and approached the stranger, he could tell that Zhang Heng was not an Indian—which was a relief. With all the conflict between the colonists and the natives, he did not want to be standing at the end of the barrel of an Indian's gun in the no-man's-land of the Gobi.
The bailiff removed his other holster and hung it on the horse's back to reassure the Chinese man he meant no harm.
Seeing that the other party had expressed deference, Zhang Heng returned the favor by putting away his revolver.
"Alright. I never thought I'd come across a Chinese in this god-forsaken place." The bailiff offered Zhang Heng a hand. "I'm Morton."
