I felt very little relief at first as I lay flat on the ground. My body and legs were stiff as if dead. As time went by and I saw no signs of their coming back to life, I feared that mortification had set in, and that I had lost the use of my feet forever. It was two or three hours before the blood began to circulate in my right foot. The pain when it did so was intense. Had a handful of knives been passed slowly down the inside of my leg the agony could not have been more excruciating. My arms were not quite so bad. They also were numbed, but the circulation was more quickly re-established. The Pombo, whether to amuse me or to show off his riches, ordered to be displayed before me about one hundred ponies, some with magnificent harness. Mounting the finest pony and holding in his hand the dreadful _taram_, he rode round the hill on which the monastery and fort stood. On returning he harangued his men. A series of sports followed, the Pombo seating himself near me and watching me intently to see how I was enjoying the performance. First of all the best marksmen were selected. With their matchlocks they fired one after the other at my two yaks, only a few yards off. Although they aimed carefully, no one succeeded in hitting them. I knew they fired with bullets, for I could hear the hissing sound of the missiles. Next came an interesting display of horsemanship. I should have enjoyed it more had I not been suffering agonies all the time. The performance helped to cheer me. First there were races in which only two ponies at a time took part, the last race being run between two winners. A _kata_ was presented to the final winner. Next one horseman rode ahead full gallop flying a _kata_, while some others followed closely behind. The _kata_ was dropped. When it settled on the ground, the horsemen following the leader rode away, and, at a given signal, galloped back wildly, converging toward the _kata_, attempting to pick it up without dismounting. Some of the younger men were very clever at this game. Another sport consisted in one man on foot being seized and lifted on to the saddle by a mounted comrade riding full gallop. Though I could not see as well as I wished, I enjoyed the show, and expressed admiration for the ponies. The Pombo thoughtfully ordered the best of them to be brought closer to me, and had me lifted into a sitting posture, so that I could see them better. This was a great relief. I was suffering more from my humiliating position, being unable to stand, than from the tortures themselves, bad as they were. The Pombo told me that I must now look toward the tent. He then got up and walked toward it. The opening of the tent was over twenty feet long. Some soldiers came and dragged me close in front of it, so that I could witness all that went on.