The Rupun, who seemed much disappointed, tied the ropes round my wrists firmly again, and, though he appeared rather vexed at my not having availed myself of the chance of flight he had given me, he treated me with ever-increasing respect and deference. He even produced his _puku_ (wooden bowl), which he filled with steaming tea from the _raksang_,[33] and lifted it up to my mouth for me to drink. On perceiving how thirsty and hungry I was, not only did this good man refill the cup time after time until my thirst was quenched, but he mixed with it _tsamba_, and lumps of butter, which he then stuffed into my mouth with his fingers. It was really touching to see how, moved to kindness, the soldiers imitated his example, and, one after the other, produced handfuls of _tsamba_ and _chura_, and deposited them in my mouth. Their hands, it is true, were not over clean, but on such occasions it does not do to be too particular, and I was so hungry that the food they gave me seemed delicious. I had been for two nights and one day without food, and, what with the exertion of the fight and my various exciting experiences, my appetite was very keen. This great politeness, however, and the sympathy with which not only the Rupun, but even the soldiers treated me now, made me suspect that my end was indeed near. I was grieved not to be able to obtain news of Chanden Sing and Mansing; and the soldiers' reticence in answering questions regarding them made me fear that something awful had happened. Nevertheless, though my gaolers were friendly, I did not betray any anxiety, but pretended to take all that came as a matter of course. I spent the first portion of the day in a lively conversation with the soldiers, partly to divert my thoughts and partly to improve my knowledge of Tibetan. [33] _Raksang_, a vessel in which tea mixed with butter and salt is kept boiling over the fire. CHAPTER LXXXI A bearer of bad news--Marched off to the mud-house--Mansing--Insults and humiliations--Iron handcuffs instead of ropes--The Rupun's sympathy--No more hope--In the hands of the mob. EARLY in the afternoon a soldier entered the tent, and striking me on the shoulder with his heavy hand, shouted: "_Ohe!_" (This is a Tibetan exclamation always used by the rougher classes when beginning a conversation. It corresponds to "Look here.") "_Ohe!_" repeated he; "before the sun goes down you will be flogged, both your legs will be broken,[34] they will burn out your eyes, and then they will cut off your head!" The man, who seemed quite in earnest, accompanied each sentence with an appropriate gesture illustrating his words. I laughed at him and affected to treat the whole thing as a joke, partly because I thought this was the best way to frighten them and prevent them from using violence, and partly because the programme thus laid before me seemed so extensive that I thought it could only be intended to intimidate me.