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Updated: June 26, 2025
"For all that men know, those stairs may have a purpose and even a bottom step," said the arch-idolater, "but discussion about the lower flights is idle." Then the teeth of Pombo chattered, for he feared the darkness, but he that made idols of his own explained that those stairs were always lit by the faint blue gloaming in which the World spins.
And there before Pombo was the little disreputable god who cares nothing for etiquette and will answer prayers that are refused by all the respectable idols.
One of the two Lamas, a fellow with evident mesmeric powers, now laid his hand upon the shoulders of the Pombo, who gradually raised his arms with hands outstretched and remained, as if in a cataleptic state, for a long time without moving. Next the Lama touched the Pombo's neck with his thumbs, and caused his head to begin a rapid circular movement from left to right.
And Pombo found the well at the end of the garden beyond the end house of Last Street, and many thoughts ran through his mind as he hung by his hands from the edge, but chiefest of all those thoughts was one that said the gods were laughing at him through the mouth of the arch-idolater, their prophet, and the thought beat in his head till it ached like his wrists ... and then he found the step.
"This, then, is the punishment for you!" and with these dreadful words the Pombo raised his arm and placed the red-hot iron bar parallel to, and about an inch or two from, my eyeballs, and all but touching my nose. Instinctively I kept my eyes closed, but the heat was so intense that it seemed as if my eyes, the left one especially, were being desiccated and my nose scorched.
I seized this moment to say that they might kill me if they wished, but that, if I died to-day, they would all die to-morrow an undeniable fact, for we are all bound to die some day. This seemed to cool them for a moment; but the excitement in the crowd was too great, and at last they succeeded in working the Pombo into a passion. His face became quite unrecognizable, such was his excitement.
When Pombo heard this he took two handfuls of the arch-idolater's beard and kissed them joyfully, and dried his tears and became his old impertinent self again.
This, I thought, must be owing to the injuries to my spine and the semi-mortification of my limbs, which had apparently affected my whole system except my head. When the Pombo had retired and night came on, I was again tied to the stretching log. This time with my legs stretched not so far apart. My arms were again fastened to the pillar behind, but with no strain on them.
There were deep sighs and cries of astonishment, even of terror, when the Pombo performed some of the more eccentric movements with his limbs. Now and then this weird dance terminated in a strange posture, the Pombo actually doubling himself up with his head between his feet and his long, flat hat resting on the ground.
"It is a sign that you will suffer for what you are doing to me." The Pombo flung away the plate he had picked up and was much upset. He ordered a hole to be dug in the ground some way off, and all the plates to be instantly buried.
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