During a break in the fighting, the Bhutanese side formed an elaborate procession of monks and warriors from the fortress to the banks of the Mochu river, next to the dzong, and pretended to throw the holy object into the water. Watching from the other side of the river, the Tibetans thought the relic was lost forever. So they turned and left. The Bhutanese, meanwhile, had cleverly locked away the holy tooth in one of the highest towers of the dzong, where it remains to this day. In time, it became one of the kingdom’s most fiercely guarded national treasures, a raison d'être for the newly minted warriors.

The festival reaches a climax with more whoops and yells, followed by the reed-like music of the pipes. The yellow-robed figure of the chief guest rises, followed by his retinue of monks and ceremonial standard bearers. Then His Holiness leads the procession out of the courtyard and down the stairs to the banks of the river, reenacting history. Bhutan’s spiritual leader throws something round and shiny into the river (I’m told it’s an orange), symbolizing the history-making feint we described earlier.

Later, we meet the warriors in person in one of the inner courtyards of the dzong. They seem less intimidating now as they sit around joking, laughing, and teasing each other in the sun. They smile, showing teeth stained red by chewing too much Beetlejuice. Won over by promises of hand-delivered photographs, they line up for pictures.