A thousand miles on an elephant in the Shan States

by Holt S. Hallett

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE MEH KONG AT KIANG HSEN—RINGWORM—EXTENSIVE RUINS—DESCRIPTION OF CITY—IMPORTANCE OF SITUATION FOR TRADE—CHINESE SETTLERS FROM SSUCHUAN, KWEICHAU, AND YUNNAN—PROJECTED RAILWAY—SURVEYS BEING MADE BY KING OF SIAM—EXCURSIONS FROM KIANG HSEN—TEAK-FORESTS—ROBBING AN IMAGE—LEGEND OF KIANG MEE-ANG—ANCIENT CITIES—COMPARISON BETWEEN ANCIENT BRITONS AND SHANS—ANCIENT PRINCIPALITY OF TSEN—KIANG HUNG—DESTRUCTION OF KIANG HSEN—CARRIED AWAY CAPTIVES—TREACHERY IN WAR—POPULATION OF ZIMMÉ CHIEFLY SLAVES—KIANG HSEN REOCCUPIED IN 1881—RESETTLING IT—ACTION OF KING OF SIAM—FRIENDLY FOOTING OF MISSIONARIES—VIEW ACROSS THE KIANG HSEN PLAIN—FLOODED COUNTRY—LEAVE FOR KIANG HAI—A WHITE ELEPHANT—BRANCHES AS SUNSHADES—ELEPHANT-FLIES—EMIGRANTS FROM LAPOON—BEAUTIFUL SCENERY—MR ARCHER’S DESCRIPTION OF TRAFFIC ALONG THE ROUTE.

Whilst the elephants were being unloaded and the servants were preparing breakfast, the Chow Phya, or district officer of Kiang Hai, who had been deputed to accompany us to Kiang Hsen, went to the Chow Hluang’s to inform him of our arrival, and we strolled to the bank of the Meh Kong, the Cambodia river of the French, to see the view.

We found ourselves a few miles above the entrance of the Meh Khoke, which is here separated from the Meh Khum by a long hillock, called Loi Chan (the steep hill). Just below the mouth of the Meh Khoke, the Meh Kong commences its great eastern bend, which stretches through two degrees of latitude to Luang Prabang.

The distance between Kiang Hsen and Luang Prabang by boat is about 200 miles, and the journey was performed by Dr M‘Gilvary in six days. The first day’s journey took him to Kiang Khong, a city of two or three thousand inhabitants, and the capital of a district under Muang Nan. In describing the river between Kiang Khong and Luang Prabang he says: “The river is a mile wide in places, and where the channel is narrowed it rushes along with frightful rapidity. Mountains rise from either bank to the height of three or four thousand feet. The river fills the bottom of a long winding valley, and as we glided swiftly down it there seemed to move by us the panorama of two half-erect, ever-changing landscapes of woodland verdure and blossom. Only as we neared the city did we see rough and craggy mountain-peaks and barren towering precipices.”

View of Loi Chan from Kiang Hsen.

The scenery from the bank of the river at Kiang Hsen was magnificent. The great river flowing in its deep channel, partially restricted by sandbanks, was a mile wide, 21 feet below its banks, and unfordable. To the east, about 40 miles distant, a mass of mountains about 30 miles in length, and perhaps forming part of the long winding valley spoken of by Dr M‘Gilvary, showed boldly against the sky; to the north-east, nearer the river, rose the precipitous hills we had previously seen from Pang Mau Pong; and between the mountains and the river, the country appeared to be a vast forest-covered plain, in which low hills were visible at 4 and 20 miles’ distance.

To the south, beyond Lāun Ten (the island of the embankment), a tree-clad island, containing the ruins of many religious buildings, which is said to have been the site of an extensive city, and to have been joined on to the mainland, is the mouth of the Meh Khoke; and beyond it, on the same bank of the river, Loi Meh Yap closes in the view, and separates the valley of the Meh Khoke from that of the Meh Yap.

On our return to the sala, the Chow Phya of Kiang Hai informed us that the Chow Hluang was away on a fishing excursion, and that the Chow Hona, the second chief, was absent at Zimmé. The son of the Chow Hluang and the chief Chow Phya of Kiang Hsen had returned with him to pay us a visit, and see how they might add to our comfort. They said that doubtless the chief would return by the day after the morrow, as although some distance away, he would certainly hasten back as soon as the messengers they had already despatched reached him.

View of hills east of the Meh Kong river.

The son of the chief was sorry his father was not there to welcome us, and still more so that, owing to smallpox raging in his own family, he was himself unable to offer us hospitality. He thought we would be more comfortable in the court-house, which was a new and capacious building; but on visiting it with him, we found it in an unfinished condition, and only partially floored, so determined to remain in our smaller but more cosy quarters.

Seeing the Chow Phya covered with ringworm, I gave him some Goa powder, and told him how to apply it. I afterwards learnt that it worked a perfect cure, for the Chow Phya showed his gratitude by writing to Dr M‘Gilvary, and forwarding me a copy of the history of Kiang Hsen, which I had expressed a wish to obtain. The work, however, proved to be valueless, except as a curiosity. Mrs M‘Gilvary, who kindly offered to translate it for me, finding it utterly unreliable—indeed, merely an olio of Buddhist legends and improbable events—soon threw the manuscript aside, considering it useless to waste further time upon it.

After breakfast we rambled through the city, about half of which was covered with the remains of fifty-three temples, and of monasteries and pagodas in their grounds. The seeds of the pipal tree, Ficus religiosa, had been dropped by birds into the interstices of the brick masonry of the pagodas, and grown into large trees. The roots of the trees, after shattering the masonry, had prevented it from falling, by clasping it in their strangling embrace. Splendid bronze images of Gaudama, generally in a good state of preservation, were scattered about in every direction, and often half buried in the débris of the fallen buildings.

The great bend of the Meh Kong from Kiang Hsen.

The images varied from 6 inches to 7 feet in height, and one known as Taung-lan-ten is an object of pilgrimage to hundreds of worshippers from the British and Siamese Shan States. This image, which is about 5 feet in height, has a legend attached to it, which relates that, when the great bronze image, now at Ava, known as the Aracan Buddha, was cast, a fabulous bird, called a galoon, alighted at the site, and fanned the furnace with its wings; and a naga, or dragon, came and blew the fire up with its breath. As their reward for these meritorious acts, Gaudama resolved that in their next birth they should be born men, and the galoon should cast a similar image at Kiang Hsen, and the naga one at Zimmé. A bamboo and thatched shed had recently been erected over the image as a temporary shelter, in place of the handsome building, with pillars and tiled roof, whose remains lay shattered around it.

Ruins at Kiang Hsen.

What struck me most in the ruins of the temples was the vast number of the images, the excellence of the plaster which still adhered to the remains of the massive brick walls and pillars, and the beauty of the ornamental decorations. The people of the city in olden times must have been numerous, wealthy, and highly skilled in the arts, to account for the number of the monasteries, and the workmanship displayed in the images and buildings.

Kiang Hsen is built in the form of an irregular parallelogram, with its sides facing the cardinal points. The city, which is about 11,057 feet long, and 3900 feet wide, is protected on three sides by double ramparts and a ditch. The eastern side is unprotected; the fortifications, together with about a quarter of a mile in width of the city, having been swept away by the encroachment of the river. The outer rampart, having a base of 70 feet, is 12 feet wide at the top, and 14 feet high; its outer slope is much flatter than the inner one. The inner rampart has a base of 75 feet, and is 18 feet in height. In its centre is a wall 2½ feet wide, from which the earthen slopes extend for 30 feet within the city, and for 43 feet outside. The crenelated top of the wall having been destroyed, a strong teak palisade 6 feet high has been erected against its inner side as a protection. The ramparts are 97 feet apart from the centre of their crests, and the bottom of the ditch is 30 feet wide, and has silted up to the level of the ground inside and outside the city. The entrances to the city are fortified by double courtyards, defended by brick walls and palisading, and by an outside ditch, as shown on the sketch. There is a large gap in the southern ramparts, which is said to have been made when the Lao Shans attacked the city in 1797.

Plaster decoration on pillars.

Kiang Hsen is admirably situated for purposes of trade, at the intersection of routes leading from China, Burmah, Karenni, the Shan States, Siam, Tonquin, and Annam. It forms, in fact, a centre of intercourse between all the Indo-Chinese races, and the point of dispersion for caravans along the diverging trade-routes. When the country is opened up by railways, and peace is assured to the Shan States to the north by our taking them fully under our protection, the great trade that will spring up between Burmah, Siam, the Shan States, and China, will make the city of great importance. Its position as a commercial centre in the midst of the vast plains which extend on both sides of the river; its bountiful climate and productive soil; the wealth in teak and other timber, as well as in minerals of the surrounding regions; and the fact, brought out by Mr Bourne in his report, that Chinese from Ssuchuan (Szechuen), Kweichau, and Yunnan, are settling in the Shan States to the north of it, will soon tempt immigrants to take up the now vacant land, and ensure the city and district a large and prosperous population.

The King of Siam is fully aware of the great value of the region, and has been doing his utmost for several years to increase its population, by resettling the country with the descendants of its inhabitants that were taken captive, or else had fled from the Burmese into the Siamese Shan States. The king is likewise having surveys made by English engineers for the portions of the Burmah-Siam-China Railway lying within his territories, and has likewise instituted surveys for branches to connect Zimmé, Luang Prabang, and Korat with the railway. These surveys, together with estimates for the construction of the lines, are to be completed in three years from March 1888.

During our stay at Kiang Hsen, I spent my time in sketching, taking observations, and in collecting information about the country. I was thus unable to accompany my companions upon some of their rambles. One of their excursions led them to Muang Hit, the site of a city on the east of the river, about three miles to the north of Kiang Hsen. No remains were found, with the exception of the old moat, an inscription on the bronze cap of a pagoda, giving A.D. 1732 as the date of its erection, and a house and clearing that had recently been deserted. Iron-mines exist near the ruins, but the neighbouring country was uninhabited except by deer, tigers, leopards, wild cattle, and other wild animals. Three Burmese Shan villages, containing 130 houses between them, had recently been built a mile or two above Muang Hit. The boundary between the Burmese and British Shan States would therefore cross the river about this city.

View of western hills.

Teak is the principal tree in the forests on both sides of the river, and even the ruins in Kiang Hsen were partially hidden by teak-trees that had sprung up since its desertion. From Kiang Hsen to Kiang Hai, teak is found on most of the hillocks.

Another day they visited the site of the ancient city of Kiang Mee-ang, which is situated on the west bank of the river, five or six miles above Kiang Hsen, at the point where the Meh Kee-ang joins the Meh Kong. It had lately been colonised by the Ping Shans, and about forty houses had been built there at the time of Dr Cushing’s and Dr M‘Gilvary’s visit. The path to the ruins led along the bank of the river, and was thickly wooded with excellent teak-trees. No remains were found, with the exception of the moat, and the ruins of a shrine which had been erected on the summit of a hill.

The principal image in the temple had been executed in plastered brickwork, covered with the ordinary coatings of damma and gold-leaf, and some sacrilegious plunderer had knocked its head off in order to obtain any treasure that might be contained inside. According to Dr Cushing, it is the custom of the Shans, when constructing a brick image, to make a square cavity running down from the neck to the vicinity of the heart, to be used as a receptacle for pieces of silver, which are generally put in to represent that organ.

On asking the chief, on his return to Kiang Hsen, about Kiang Mee-ang, he said there was a remarkable legend attached to it, which ran as follows: The chief of Kiang Mee-ang (who died three years before the destruction of Kiang Hsen), owing to his abundant merit, had the power of calling up armed allies from any direction to which he turned his face. During his lifetime his State was at peace. When the Ping Shans conquered the country, they sent his body, which was covered with a complete mask of gold-leaf (also an ancient Egyptian custom), to the Siamese king at Bangkok. The King of Siam, knowing the merit of the deceased ruler, and fearing that his power might adhere to his corpse, had it buried face downwards, as no army could invade Siam from that direction.

The chief told us that many other cities were scattered about the country, but owing to their having been depopulated during the wars of last and the beginning of this century, most of their names had been forgotten. There are, according to him, many ruins at Peuk Sa (a consultation), which is otherwise known as Kiang Hsen Noi, and lies between the city and the Meh Khoke. Muang Poo Kah (the city of the kine-grass troops) lay to the north; Muang Ko, about two days’ journey above the city; Kiang Hpan, near Loi Ta; Muang Kong (the submerged city), to the south near the Meh Khoke; Viang Wai (the bamboo city), to the west of Ban Meh Kee; Muang Loi (the city of the hills), a mile to the north of Kiang Hsen, and Kiang Mak Nau.

Some of the cities whose names are lost are known as Chinese cities, and are said to be the remains of fortified camps erected by the Chinese in bygone ages, during their various invasions of the country. Others are said to have been built by the Lawas when they held sway in the country. Some were erected by angels, nyaks (serpents or dragons), and genii; and those of later construction, by the Shans.

Many of the cities bore a strong resemblance to the ancient Celtic fortresses found by Cæsar in Britain, which are described as fastnesses in the woods, surrounded by a mound and trench, calculated to afford the people a retreat and protection during hostile invasion of their territory. The Venerable Bede, who was born in the seventh century of our era, described the mode of erecting fortified Celtic camps as follows: “A vallum, or rampart, by which camps are fortified for repelling the attack of enemies, is made of turf cut regularly out of the earth and built high above the ground like a wall, having a ditch before it, out of which the turf has been dug, above which stakes made of very strong timbers are fixed.” This exactly describes many of the fortified cities and camps in the Shan States.

There is likewise a resemblance between the appearance, customs, and habits of the Shan tribes, and those of the earliest known inhabitants of Britain, who are said to have belonged to the tawny, black-haired section of mankind. Both were divided into numerous petty tribes and sections of tribes, often at war with one another, and generally devoid of everything like unity or cohesion, even under pressure of foreign invasion; both were given to offering up human sacrifices in order to appease the wrath of local deities; and both races tattooed their bodies. The Shan house-architecture likewise resembles that of the ancient Britons, whose houses and cattle-sheds were formed with reeds and logs, surrounded by stockades constructed of felled trees. Houses built of bamboo matting and logs, with palisaded enclosures, are the ordinary type of architecture in the Shan States.

At one time the principality of Hsen or Tsen (some Shans aspirate the initial, and some do not) was far more extensive than it is at present. From B.C. 330 to B.C. 221, when the kingdom of Tsoo was conquered by the Emperor of Ts’in, Tsen was tributary to Tsoo; and at the time the Chinese conquered South-western Yunnan (B.C. 108), Tsen, then a state of Ma Mo (a Shan kingdom in the upper part of the Irrawaddi valley) confederation, extended southwards from the Yunnan lake, and eastwards to Nanning. It probably comprised the Shan States of Tsen-i-fa or Kiang Hung, Tsen-i or Theinni, and Kiang Tsen amongst its muangs, which became feudatory to Burmah between A.D. 1522–1615.

The upper part of the old principality of Tsen, when formed into a separate State, was known to the Chinese as Chan Li (Chang Li), and later as Che-li. This principality was broken up by the Chinese in A.D. 1730, when they forced the chief to pay tribute for the six pannas (or districts) lying to the south of Ssumao and to the east of the Meh Kong, and annexed the portion of his territory lying to the east of the Meh Kong, that extended as far north as half-way between Puerh and Chen Yuan Fu, and as far south as and comprising Ssumao. Thus the chief of Che-li (the Kiang Hung of the Shans, and the Kaing Yung-gyi of the Burmese) became tributary to China, as well as feudatory to Burmah.

In conversation with the Chow Hluang of Kiang Hsen, he told us that he was descended from the ancient line of Kiang Hsen, as well as from the ruling line of Zimmé. The present capital, according to him, was built in 1699, and destroyed by the Ping Shans in 1804. In giving the history of its destruction, he said that in 1778, four years after the Ping Shans had thrown off their allegiance to Burmah and become feudatory to Siam, the Lao Shans of Vieng Chang and Luang Prabang became tributary to Siam, and, urged on by Siam, besieged Kiang Hsen from 1794 to 1797.

During the siege the Lao forces were commanded by Phya Anoo, the chief of Vieng Chang, who, enraged at the long resistance, issued a proclamation declaring that every male found in the city should be put to death on its capture. This made the resistance of the besieged desperate. The Lao finally succeeded in undermining and breaching the middle of the southern wall, when a storming-party under Phya Tap Lik made an entrance; but so fiercely were they met by the defenders, that they were not only driven back, but their leader was captured, and subsequently drowned in the Meh Kong. A month later the Lao forces gave up the siege, being unaware of the fact that famine was raging in the city, and would, if the siege had continued, soon have forced its inhabitants to surrender.

Between 1779 and 1803, according to the history of Zimmé, Kiang Hsen was attacked six times by the Ping Shans, and only taken by them in 1804. During the siege by the Lao in 1797, a body of 300 Ping Shans established themselves as an army of observation near the city, but did not take part in the operations. An agreement is said to have been made with their commander, that if he would return with 3000 troops, the inhabitants would kill the Burmese troops and open the gates.

Previous to its fall in 1804, the commander of the Ping troops, which included the joint forces of Zimmé, Lakon, Nan, and Pheh, secretly informed the chief of Kiang Hsen that they had only come to accede to his former proposal, and merely wished Kiang Hsen to throw off the Burmese yoke and become feudatory to Siam, as the Ping Shans had already done; and he promised that, if the inhabitants of Kiang Hsen would massacre the Burmese governor and his troops and open the gates, the Ping Shans would form a defensive and offensive alliance with them. The inhabitants of Kiang Hsen accordingly slew the Burmese governor and the 300 Burmese soldiers who were within the walls, and opened the gates to the Ping Shans. They soon found to their cost that they had been treacherously dealt with. The city was destroyed; some of the people escaped across the Salween and settled in Mokmai and Monay, and the rest were taken captive to the Ping States, and distributed amongst them. With the Shans treachery is an ordinary occurrence in warfare: the persons deluded are ashamed at having been taken in; the successful party chuckles and crows over his cleverness.

From the time when Kiang Hsen was captured till 1810, Ping Shan armies frequently raided into the Burmese Shan States—proceeding as far west as the Salween, and as far north as the border of China—sacked the towns, and carried away the inhabitants into captivity. The late General M‘Leod, when at Zimmé in 1837, states in his journal that “the greater part of the inhabitants of Zimmé are people from Kiang Tung, Muang Niong (Yong), Kiang Then (Tsen or Hsen), and many other places to the northward. They were originally subjects of Ava (Burmah).” In another passage he says: “They, with the Talaings (Peguan Burmese), comprise more than two-thirds of the population of the country.”

The Chow Hluang told me that before he left Lapoon to take up the government of Kiang Hsen, when it was reoccupied in 1881, his retainers numbered fully 30,000 souls, amongst whom were 2500 fighting-men. Every man from eighteen to seventy years of age, who is not a slave, is reckoned as a fighting man; and allowing one grown man to every five souls, there must have been fully 6000 grown men amongst his dependants. This proportion between full-grown slaves and fighting-men shows that there were about 17,500 slaves amongst his 30,000 retainers. The descendants of Burmese refugees and captives in war are classed as slaves by the Siamese and the Ping Shans, and are parcelled out amongst the ruling classes. His statement must be taken with a grain or two of salt, as the chiefs are apt to give Falstaffian accounts of the numbers of their retainers.

A Shan house in Kiang Hsen.

In order to repopulate Kiang Hsen, which had been deserted for seventy-seven years, the King of Siam ordered a list to be made of the descendants of captives that had been taken from that State, so that they might be sent there. This list, when forwarded to Bangkok, included 500 full-grown men in Lapoon, 1000 men in Lakon, and only 370 men in Zimmé. The chief of Nan, although there were over 1000 full-grown men in his State descended from Kiang Hsen captives, refused to comply with the order, on the plea that Nan had lately repopulated the country to the north of the great bend of the Meh Kong. He further stated that he would on no account form a joint settlement with people from the Shan States of Zimmé, Lakon, and Lapoon; but if they failed in being able to settle Kiang Hsen, Nan by itself would settle it. The chief of Lakon likewise remonstrated against the order, urging, as an excuse for not obeying it, that, as his State had established and repopulated Penyow and Ngow, it was but just that the other States should have the glory of establishing Kiang Hsen.

The King of Siam, having but a small hold upon Nan, thought fit to admit its excuse, but ordered that Lakon must send 1000 full-grown men; Zimmé, 1000; Pheh, 300; and Lapoon the whole of the dependants of the prince who had been appointed ruler of Kiang Hsen. Lakon absolutely refused to comply with this order, and it was only after he was charged with rebellion by the king that he consented to send between 500 and 600 men with their families to Kiang Hsen. Up to the time of my visit the people had been merely arriving in dribblets, and only 607 houses had been erected in the State, of which 139 were in the city. The Chow Hluang said many immigrants from Lakon, Zimmé, and Lapoon were then on their way to Kiang Hsen, as the King of Siam was determined that the full tally ordered by him should be completed. Many of these immigrants were met by me when returning to Kiang Hai. On the Burmese side of the frontier the Moné Shans, the Ngio, had erected 641 houses.

The Chow Hluang appeared to be very angry with the chief of Lapoon, his former suzerain, for preventing some of the 2500 serfs, who had offered to follow him as their liege lord, from leaving Lapoon. It is the custom among the Ping Shans for a serf to have the right of changing his allegiance from one lord to another if he wishes to do so, and this right has always acted as a great check to the growth of oppression. On the Chow Hluang being appointed to Kiang Hsen, 2500 serfs placed their names on his list, and offered to accompany him with their families and slaves.

The rainfall is not nearly as plentiful in Lapoon as it is in Kiang Hsen, and the plains of Kiang Hsen are renowned for their fruitfulness: thus the people would greatly improve their prospects by the change; besides which, there are always fewer Government monopolies in the frontier districts. Kiang Hsen, being made into a separate State, would not be dependent upon Lapoon. The Chow Hluang of the latter State was therefore naturally averse to losing a large body of his people, and had consequently obstructed the emigration by all the means in his power. The chief of Kiang Hsen, tired of remonstrating with the chief of Lapoon, had appealed to Zimmé and Bangkok to have him compelled to send his adherents to Kiang Hsen.

The chief of Kiang Hsen was an old acquaintance and friend of Dr M‘Gilvary, and seemed well pleased to see him. Nothing struck me more during my journeys than the high estimation in which the American missionaries were held by the chiefs. Not only were they on a kindly and friendly footing with them, but by their bold strictures upon acts of injustice, and by exposing and expostulating against the wickedness and senselessness of certain of the reigning superstitions, they had become a beneficent power in the country.

During our stay the chief did all he could to make us comfortable; sent us the best fruit, fowls, and vegetables at his disposal, and allowed an ox to be killed for us, although there were at that time not more than sixty oxen amongst the settlers in the whole region. After the animal was slaughtered, cut up, and removed, its late companions, attracted by the scent, gathered round the spot in the most pathetic manner, sniffing at the ground, and time after time, when driven away, returning, and wandering uneasily about, as if aware that some ill fate had befallen their comrade.

The day before we left Kiang Hsen, I took a walk to the pagoda on Loi Saun-ka-tee, the hill to the north of the city, in order to sketch the hills to the west of the plain, and, as far as possible, fix their position. The air was clear, and I got a splendid view. Loi Htong, Loi Ya Tow, and Loi Ta, which I had previously sketched on entering the Kiang Hsen plain, now lay a little to the north of west, at a distance of about seventeen miles. Farther to the north, Loi Pa Hem loomed up in the distance, and seemed not to belong to the same system of hills: this hill was passed by M‘Leod when on his way to Kiang Tung in 1837. The great plain we were looking at, in which a few hillocks outcropped, extended to the foot of the mountains, but its northern and southern extensions were hidden by the low hills on which we were standing, and the hillocks which we had skirted on our way to the city.

View of hills west of Kiang Hsen Plain from pagoda on hill.

On calling to say good-bye, before leaving on March 24th, I asked the chief about the floods that occasionally happened in the plain to the south of the Meh Khum. These, he said, were chiefly caused by the flood-waters of the Meh Kong backing up the water of the Meh Khum. When the Meh Kong was at its highest, the inundation sometimes rose two and a half feet over the bank, but the flood never extended north of the Meh Khum, nor farther inland than Loi Champa and Hong Seu-a Teng (the fishery where the tiger leapt); and even in this strip of plain there was a space between the Meh Chun and the Meh Khum, extending to Ban Kan Hta, which was never overflowed. The land near the mouth of the Meh Khoke, and for some distance up-stream, was also subject to inundation, the flow of the water in that river being impeded by waterweeds. Having finished my calls, and made presents to the chief and officials, and thanked them for their hospitality, we had the elephants loaded, and a little after one o’clock in the afternoon left the city.

The first night we halted at Pang Mau Pong, where we had stayed on our way to Kiang Hsen. I chose a different elephant for the return journey, much against the wish of the Chow Phya, who was accompanying us; it being considered infra dig. for a gentleman to ride any but a male beast. But I preferred ease to dignity; my former long-legged elephant having jolted me with its jerking pace, and the one I chose, although a female, moving with an exceptionally easy gait. The elephant-driver, on my noticing that its head was salmon-coloured speckled with darker spots, assured me that if it had been a male, it would have been honoured as a white elephant, and presented to the King of Siam. My eyes had become so inflamed with the constant glare from the white paths, and from peering at the small figures on the silver rim of the prismatic compass, that I was obliged to give up night-work as far as possible, and on my return to England I had to commence wearing spectacles.

City enclosure. Sketch of an entrance to Kiang Hsen.

The next morning we started at 6 A.M., all feeling much better for our long halt at Kiang Hsen. The boys were quite rejuvenated, and walked along briskly under their umbrellas in the fresh morning air, singing scraps of songs as they went, joking with each other, and with all whom they met. When tired by a long journey they become jaded, and walk as if they have tar on their feet. After passing two caravans of laden cattle conveying the goods of some immigrants from Zimmé, we halted at a village to purchase fresh vegetables, but could only procure a few onions. Some of the trees had sprouted after the rain on the 21st, and everything was looking fresher than before.

Starting again, we passed some men carrying eel-spears, and stopped for breakfast at Kyoo Pow on the banks of the Meh Chun, where we bought some bringals and mustard-leaves. Many doves were cooing in the trees, and did not go into a pie, as I refused to let the boys have the gun to shoot them. We likewise saw a few green paroquets.

After breakfast we were off again, the elephant-men carrying leafy branches to shelter their eyes, as we were proceeding due west. We passed another caravan of laden cattle, and halted for the night at Ban Meh Kee. I had thoroughly enjoyed the journey—being mounted on an easier beast, and having a complete holiday, as I had previously surveyed the route.

Next day we woke up with the thermometer marking 57°, and were off before 6 A.M. An hour later we met a caravan of sixty-three laden oxen conducted by Burmese Shans on their way to Kiang Tung. The leading oxen had masks, embroidered with beads, on their faces, surmounted by peacocks’ tails. We then entered the evergreen forest—where the gibbons were wailing, and doing wondrous feats of agility, outleaping Leotard at every spring—and halted for breakfast amongst some gigantic kanyin and thyngan trees.

In the afternoon we made a short march to our former halting-place at Meh Khow Tone. The gadflies in the forest were nearly an insupportable nuisance. These vampires were so intent upon drawing blood, that they never moved as my hand slowly approached to crunch them. They are noiseless on the wing, and painless in their surgery. One is unaware of their presence until a ruddy streak appears on one’s clothing. The elephants constantly scraped up the dust with their trunks to blow at the flies, where they could not reach them with the leafy branches that they carried. Our boys hurried along, armed like the elephants, slashing at the flies on their shoulders and backs. We were all glad to reach the camp.

Shortly before halting we passed several hundred emigrants from Lapoon, squatting down and enjoying their mid-day rest, with their packs by their side, and their oxen grazing close by. A great part of their baggage was borne by the men on shoulder-bamboos.

We were off before six the next morning, and after passing fifteen Kiang Tung Shans on their way back from Maulmain with their purchases, a Chinaman carrying three huge iron pots for distilling, and caravans of forty cattle carrying the goods of some of the Lapoon emigrants, we entered the Yung Leh rice-fields. Rain had evidently fallen since we passed through them on our way to Kiang Hsen; the scene was changed as by an enchanter’s wand, and had now the aspect of spring. Young leaves were sprouting on the trees, even the evergreens were decked with them, while the leaf-dropping bamboos looked quite fresh, the rain having freed them from their coatings of dust. Paddy-birds had arrived, and were perched in flocks upon some of the trees, making them in the morning mist look a mass of white blossoms. Five great jo-jas (slate-coloured cranes) strutted through the plain, companies of caravan Shans were dotted about, under temporary mat shelters, with their packs stacked by their sides, and large herds of cattle were grazing in the distance. The mist rising and falling as it cleared off the valley, gave us beautiful peeps at houses nestled in the orchards, which framed either side of the plain. The whole scene formed an ideal landscape, the realisation of an artist’s dream—a scene to which one would fain recur.

After halting for a quarter of an hour at the monastery in Ban Doo, to bargain with the abbot for some magical and medicinal books, we hurried along to the ford of the Meh Khoke, crossed the river, and were welcomed by our old friend the jo-ja, who still acted as sentinel to the rest-house outside Kiang Hai.

In the account of his journey from Kiang Hsen to Kiang Hai in February 1887, Mr Archer, our consul at Zimmé, brings out the importance of the trade converging at Kiang Hai, and passing over the portion of the route we had traversed to the Burmese Shan States and China, along which we propose the railway to China should be carried. He states that “the road from Ban Me Khi (Meh Kee) to Chienghai (Kiang Hai) is probably the greatest and most important thoroughfare in the whole of the north of Siam, and the traffic here is comparatively very considerable: in the course of a day I passed many caravans of pack-animals, some consisting of a long file of over a hundred bullocks. The greater proportion of the traders were Ngios (Burmese Shans) from Chiengtung (Kiang Tung), who came to purchase goods in Chiengmai and Lakhon (Zimmé and Lakon), chiefly cotton goods, iron, and salt. Very few of the Laos (Ping Shans) seem to venture into Chiengtung territory for trading purposes; in fact, it is apparent that the Laos cannot compete with the Ngio and Toungthoo traders and pedlars. This, again, is the route taken by the Ho, or Yunnanese traders, on their yearly trading expeditions to Moulmein (Maulmain).”

In another report Mr Archer gives the route now taken by Chinese caravans from Yunnan to Ootaradit (Utaradit), the city at the head of navigation for large boats on the Meh Nam. He says: “The route followed by this caravan was from Yunnan (Fu) to Puerh, Ssumao, Kiang Hung, Muang Long, Muang Lim, Kiang Hsen, Kiang Hai, Peh, and Utaradit or Tha-It. These caravans come down to Tha-It every year, but the greater part go eastward towards Chieng Mai (Zimmé), and some as far as British Burmah. These traders are pure Yunnanese, and are called Hō by the Siamese.” It is interesting to know that this direct route from Yunnan Fu to Penyow, which lies between Kiang Hai and Peh, passes through the same places as our proposed railway from Maulmain, and will therefore greatly facilitate its survey.