We were more afraid that One Eye would be choked into
insensibility before we reached the post.
The big native was sitting astride his captive when we gained the ledge,
and the prisoner was blinking his one good eye as he stared up at him.
We dropped down beside him and took a look at the sun-tanned face. He
exhibited no fear, and the weak, watery eye showed no glint of
intelligence. It was plain that his brain was slightly deranged.
Holman jerked him into a sitting position, and with signs and gestures
we endeavoured to explain what we wanted him to do. Neither of us
understood the deaf and dumb alphabet, but the alphabet was hardly
necessary. With much pantomimic action we described Leith, the
Professor, and the two girls, and Kaipi enjoyed himself immensely by
waving his knife in front of One Eye's face to signify the fate that
awaited him if he did not immediately guide us to the spot. The Fijian
was so proud of the blade that he could hardly be prevented from burying
an inch of the steel in the prisoner's body.
One Eye, although obviously half-witted, saw that Kaipi was only looking
for an excuse to send him to a more undesirable place than the Isle of
Tears, and he made eager signs that he would act as our guide.
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