"They say the Eye, sahib," Sher Jang replied, after he had questioned the men.
"The Eye again!"
"That is what they were colloguing about just now, no doubt," said Mackenzie.
"Tell them it's all a pack of nonsense, Sher Jang," said Forrester. "There is no eye that can do them any harm, and our guns will protect them."
The Nagas' response to this was to shout to the villagers who stood looking on. Two of these ran across the clearing, and entered one of the huts.
"They say you shall see, sahib," Sher Jang explained.
"It is some ridiculous superstition, I suppose," said Forrester. "We shall have to squash it somehow, or we are dished."
In a few moments the villagers emerged from the hut, leading an old man whose long hair and beard betokened the neglect of all tendance. His right arm was missing, and his eyes had the dull, pathetic, wistful look of the half-witted. His guides brought him up to within a few yards of the white men, and the Nagas pointed to him with wild excitement, continually exclaiming:--
"The Eye! The Eye!"
