"An attack!" cried Buck. "What's this game? Why, it's a Kachin. You dropped him, Jack?"
"Yes," said Jack, "he was going to lop Me Dain's head off with this sword."
Jim picked the blade up and looked at it carefully.
"A Kachin dah (native sword)," he said. "Did you see any more of them about, Jack?"
"Yes, there were four; three of them have cut into the jungle."
"Come on, sahibs," cried Me Dain, who was very little disturbed by his queer experience, "this dangerous place to stop. Perhaps they come back with jingals (native guns)."
"What do you make of it, Me Dain?" said Buck.
"Dacoits, sahib, dacoits; let us hurry. That man is dead," pointing to his would-be executioner, "but plenty more in the forest." He seized the dah as a weapon for himself, and all four hurried after the ponies, who had come to a stand fifty yards farther along the narrow way.
"Queer business, dacoits so near a village," muttered Jim. "Let's see what the headman has got to say about it."