What connection did they have with the Master? The old men sat for hours, unblinking, staring into the distance or bent over some trifle, stones, feathers, bones. Never laughing, scarcely talking to each other, the blue-eyed tribe were the incarnation of complete equilibrium. That was shown by their measured gestures, the stamp of spiritual power on their furrowed faces. Their almost more-than-human detachment made them appear burnt-out. Unconcerned concern, that is the contradictory expression that always comes to mind when I think of them, and they cast a spell over me which I will not forget to my dying day. I found it impossible to decide how old individual members of the tribe were. Despite their ancient faces, with expressions which appeared impervious to all feeling, their looks seemed illuminated from within, and yet I could read nothing definite in them. Their teeth were perfect, the rest of their bodies lean, little more than skin and bones. It is unlikely there were more than fifty of them.
