For the moment I thought that Kalloe had raised the
country against Kamrasi, as I observed many hundred men dressed for war,
scouring the beautiful open park, like hounds upon a scent. The Turks
beat their drum and called their men under arms beneath the ensign
planted outside the village, - not knowing the intention of the unusual
gathering. It shortly transpired that Kamrasi had heard of the escape of
Kalloe, and, enraged at the loss of his prey, he had immediately started
about a thousand men in pursuit.
In the evening I heard that he had been captured. I sent to Kamrasi
directly, to beg him to postpone his execution, as I wished to speak
with him on the following morning.
At sunrise I started, and found the king sitting in his but, while
Kalloe was lying under a plantain tree perfectly resigned, with his leg
in the Kamrasi shoe - a block of wood of about four feet long and ten
inches thick (the rough trunk of a tree); his left foot had been thrust
through a small hole in the log, while a peg driven through at right
angles just above the instep effectually secured the prisoner. This was
a favourite punishment of the king; the prisoner might thus languish
until released by death; it was impossible to sit up, and difficult to
lie down, the log having to be adjusted by an attendant according to the
movement of the body.
