After what seemed like a long eternity, she returned. What was in her hand was not the key to the handcuffs as I had hoped. Instead, she was carrying ... long riding crop. I just stared at her for a moment."What's the matter slave boy?" she asked somewhat casually. This was not a good sign."I'm not your slave boy, I'm a priest," I started to explain, "I mean, I'm dressed as a priest, and you're dressed as a dominatrix and you're taking this thing way too far."I stood up off the sofa and held out. A bouncing horse was not a very stable platform for precision shooting. The Indians who realized this rode up to the wall and tried to use the horse's back as a stepping stone to scale the wall. The warrior could stand on the horse's back and jump to grasp the top of the wall. The loophole openings could serve as footholds so that it was possible to get over the top of the wall and reach the firing platform. This worked on rare occasions, but the soldiers in the watchtowers were usually able to. More

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