CHAPTER XXV.
LEAVE ZIMMÉ WITHOUT INTERPRETERS—BORROW A TENT—REACH BAN PANG KAI—THE CRY OF GIBBONS—LEGEND—A PRIMITIVE PAGODA—THREE KINDS OF PAGODAS—DESCRIPTION—LOW PLATEAU DIVIDING MEH LOW FROM MEH WUNG—BRANCH RAILWAY FROM LAKON—THE HEAD SOURCES OF MEH WUNG—A STORM—TEAK—REACH MUANG WUNG—COCKLE’S PILLS—A TEMPLE AT NIGHT—TOWER MUSKETS—A PLAGUE OF FLIES—MOOSURS—DR CUSHING LEAVES FOR BANGKOK—HIS EXCELLENT ARRANGEMENT—TRANSLATOR OF THE BIBLE INTO SHAN—LOSS OF SHAN INTERPRETERS—MR MARTIN JOINS PARTY—BAU LAWAS IN SOUTHERN SIAM—ARRIVAL OF MR GOULD—ELEPHANT TITLES—DINNER AT THE MARTINS’—A PRESENT OF CIGARS.
After being detained five days at Zimmé in the hopes of one of the missionaries being able to accompany me to the sources of the Meh Wung, the Princess Chow Oo Boon kindly hired me some of her elephants, and I started on the morning of April 26th, without interpreters, accompanied merely by the elephant-men and my own servants. Natives of India have an astonishing power of quickly learning sufficient words and sentences of a strange language to allow them to express themselves more or less fluently to the people of the country. As Jewan, Veyloo, and Loogalay were not exceptions to the rule, and I had acquired some little knowledge of the language, I thought we should be able to manage very well.
As the rains had set in, and we might expect showers every night, I borrowed a good-sized bell-tent from one of the missionaries, which, on a pinch, would contain myself and two of the servants; while the other one could curl himself up in an elephant-howdah, and shelter himself beneath its cover.
I followed the route which was taken by M‘Leod in 1837, when on his way from Zimmé to Kiang Tung, as far as Ban Pang Kai, a village 9 miles to the south of Viang Pa Pow, which we had visited when proceeding to Kiang Hai. The height of the pass over the divide between the Meh Hkuang and the Meh Low crossed by the route is 3413 feet above the sea.
During the morning, before reaching Ban Pang Kai, we were accompanied by the howling of the gibbons which infested the evergreen forests; and I halted for a few minutes to take down their cry, which ran thus: Hoop-hoi, oop-oi, oo-ep, oo-ep; hoo-oo-oo, oi-e-e-e, hoi-e, oop-oop, oi-oi-oi-oi, oop-oi, oi-oi-oi-oo, oop-oi, hoi-hoi-hoi, hau-au-au. For miles on the journey these were the only sounds heard in the forest, and even the notes of some of the birds vociferated in the early morning seemed to be imitated from this cry. One calls koo-a-woo, at-a-woo; another, koo-a-koo, koo-a-hoo; another, koo-wa-ra, hoo-wa-ra; another, hoop-pa-pook; and another, hip-poo-hill, hip-poo-hill.
View of the hills to the north-east of Zimmé from Pen Yuk.
The Shans call the gibbon hpoo-ah (husband), from the similarity of its cry to that word, and account for its wailing as follows: In a former existence a woman, who afterwards was born as a gibbon, lost her husband, and becoming distracted, wandered through the forest rending the air with her cries—hpoo-ah! hpoo-ah! (husband! husband!). When she was born as a gibbon, she continued the cry, which has been kept up by her descendants ever since.
Ban Pang Kai lies 49 miles from Zimmé, and 2058 feet above the sea. Although only a small village, it possesses a temple, the roof of which was anything but watertight, as the thatch required renewing. A large white ant-hill served as a pagoda, and had offerings of flowers placed before it. It was the most primitive, and most correct to the original design, that I had ever seen, as, according to the monks, Gaudama left no instructions with reference to pagodas, but merely said that a small mound should be raised over his bones in the form of a heap of rice.
Ox drawing timber in forest.
The Siamese word “Chedi,” for a pagoda, is derived from the Pali word “Chaitya,” and means the offering-place, or place of prayer; and the Shan word “Htat,” or “Tat,” and the Siamese “Săt-oop,” for a pagoda placed over portions of Gaudama’s body, such as his flesh, teeth, and hair, is derived from the Sanscrit “Dhatu garba,” a relic shrine. In Siam there are three classes of pagoda: the Pra Săt-oop, which is placed over remains of Gaudama; the Pra Prang, placed over his utensils; and the Pra Chedi, placed over his personal apparel and that of his disciples. The pagodas are made of either brick or stone masonry, plastered over with a cement formed of lime, sand, and molasses, the latter rendering the plaster very hard and durable. Sometimes it is built over a core of earth, which is apt to cause the brickwork to crack as the earth settles. The bases of these pagodas are either square, circular, hexagonal, or octagonal. The structure rises in a taper form by regular square or rounded gradations to a small spire, from 20 feet in height to 150, and the apex is surmounted by a handsome htee, or gilded series of tapering umbrellas.
Leaving Ban Pang Kai, we struck eastwards, and after crossing the rice-fields of the village, ascended 90 feet to the crest of the plateau which divides the valley of the Meh Low from that of the Meh Wung. The crest lies only three-quarters of a mile from the village, and 2148 feet above the sea. A branch line could be run without difficulty from Lakon, up the valley of the Meh Wung, and over this plateau into the upper valley of the Meh Low, which will be able to support a large population when the fine plains and plateau are again brought under cultivation, and irrigated from the neighbouring streams.
At 51 miles I sketched the head of the basin of the Meh Wung. Loi Mok, and its spur, Loi Pa Kung, lay about 15 miles due north, and the pass over the Kyoo Hoo Low, which leads into the valley of the Meh Ing, about the same distance to the north-east.
View of the head of the basin of the Meh Wung.
After crossing a valley in the plateau drained by the Meh Kee-ow,—a stream with slate and shale in its bed,—we passed some large blocks of limestone piled up like Druidical remains, close to the head of the valley. Here a thunderstorm commenced, and the rain began to pour down in torrents, soon making my followers look like drowned rats. From 53 miles the path passed for a mile amongst a series of limestone peaks, which stand up like skittles from the plateau, and are called Loi Pa Chau. These ended at the edge of the plateau, which was wooded chiefly by pine and teak-trees, some of the latter being 16 feet in girth. The trees must be of great age, as a circumference of 6 feet denotes a life of one hundred years. At the point where the path commences to descend from the plateau, a road leading to Penyow, viâ Loi Mun Moo, leaves to the right. Descending the slope for a mile and a half through a forest of great teak-trees, many of which had been lately girdled, we reached the fields of Ban Huay Hee-o. A mile and a half farther across the plain brought us to Ban Mai, the headquarters of the governor of Muang Wung, which is a province of Lakon.
View of the Kyoo Hoo Low and hills east of Meh Wung.
View of Loi Mun Moo pass and hills east of Meh Wung.
We put up for the night in a large and beautifully decorated temple, near the bank of the Meh Wung, which is here 80 feet broad and 9 feet deep, with 1 foot of water flowing in its bed. Ban Mai is 57 miles from Zimmé, and 1462 feet above the sea, or less than 700 feet lower than the water-parting separating it from the Meh Low. Just before reaching the village, I sketched the hills lying to the east of the Meh Wung, which divide it from the valley of the Meh Ing.
My head was aching with a bad bilious attack when I arrived, so I determined to go without dinner, and took a couple of Cockle’s pills. These pills are simply invaluable in such cases, and I never travel without them. As soon as my things were unpacked, I sent for the governor, and procured the names of the villages in the Muang, and got him to make a map on the ground with matches to show me the position of the villages and streams.
The scene was one not easily to be forgotten. The magnificent posts covered with red lacquer and ornamented with gold, increasing in height with the tiers of the roof; the centre and side aisles lengthening out in the gloom; the chancel in the distance, with its great gilded image of Gaudama,—were shrouded in darkness, save for the dim religious light cast by my two wax candles.
Next morning the governor sent me a present of fowls and vegetables, accompanied by a guard of honour, armed with Tower muskets marked with G. R., a crown, and London, to attend me as far as Ban Pang Kai. Whilst sketching the hills at the head of the valley, my hands were absolutely gloved with flies, and you could hardly have put a pin between the flies on the backs of my attendants; but luckily they were innocuous, and did not lust after our blood. I halted for the night at the temple of Ban Pang Kai. Another heavy thunderstorm, accompanied by rain, happened in the evening. The roof of the temple was so leaky, that I had to protect my bed from the drippings with waterproof sheets.
Whilst halting for breakfast on the following day, near the hot springs on the Meh Low, I had my chair placed some distance from the camp under a great Mai Hai tree, which was dropping its damson-like fruit. A Moosur, with black turban, trousers, and jacket, passed by, and was shortly afterwards followed by another, who, startled at seeing me, looked about suspiciously, and clutching his gun, brought it to the front as he sidled past me. A little later, on returning to the camp, I found both of the men sitting round the fire, having an amicable smoke, and an attempt at a chat with my boys.
I was glad to hear on my return to Zimmé that Dr Cushing had so far recovered as to have been able to leave for Bangkok on April 30th. The thoughtful kindness of this missionary in taking over from me the management of the commissariat and camp arrangements during our journeys, together with his skill in keeping the loads of each elephant separate, and having only such things unpacked as were immediately required, enabled me to start by daybreak every morning (except when we were delayed by the carelessness of the elephant-drivers, who occasionally allowed their animals to stray), and I was thus able to make longer journeys and do more work than I could otherwise have done.
I trust that the knowledge he was able to collect of the various dialects of the Shan language, and the information he gained about the customs and habits of the Ping Shans, will be a full recompense to him for the constant and enthusiastic manner in which he took up those matters. It is only by acquiring a thorough knowledge of the languages, habits, customs, and superstitions of the people, that missionaries can hope to influence and convert them. The noble work that Dr Cushing has done in translating the Bible into Shan will greatly aid his fellow-missionaries in Christianising and civilising not only the Shans but the neighbouring tribes who understand their language. The greatest field for missionaries in Indo-China lies, undoubtedly, amongst the non-Buddhist hill-tribes, where so much good work has already been done by the American Baptist, the American Presbyterian, and China Inland Missions.
Dr M‘Gilvary, and Dr and Mrs Peoples, were away in the district when I arrived, and Mr and Mrs Webster were out. Dr Cushing had taken the two Shan interpreters, one of whom was his writer, to Bangkok with him, and my servants soon went off to the bazaar, leaving me alone in the house. The third chief of Zimmé, hearing of my return, called to pay me a visit, which proved as amusing as my interview with the father of Chow Nan.
On calling on Mr and Mrs Martin, they invited me to dinner the next evening; and Mr Martin expressed himself willing to accompany me on my next journey, and believed that Dr M‘Gilvary had made up his mind likewise to do so. This was indeed good tidings, and I at once accepted the proposal. I am indebted to this gentleman for a very interesting diary that he kept for me during the journey.
I then visited Mr Wilson, and in the course of conversation he told me that when journeying three days by boat above Kanburi, on a western branch of the Meh Klong, a river that empties into the east of the Gulf of Siam, he came across a Bau Lawa village containing thirty houses, and the people said there were three or four of their villages in the neighbourhood. The villages could be reached in one and a half day by elephant from Kanburi. This was interesting, as it shows how far south the villages of this tribe extend.
The next day Dr M‘Gilvary returned, and Mr Gould, the British consul, arrived in the afternoon. I found that an order had been issued by the Chow Che Wit, the head chief, precluding elephants from leaving the district, so I went to the palace with Dr M‘Gilvary to obtain permission to hire some for my intended journey to Moung Fang. The chief was out, but luckily we met him in the city, driving slowly in his carriage, and accompanied by many attendants. On his giving us the necessary permission, we called on the Princess Chow Oo Boon, who kindly consented to lend us six of her finest elephants. These were honoured with names: Poo Hot, Poo Kao, Poo Hao, Ma Ap, &c. The largest ones were over nine feet in height.
The dinner at the Martins’ proved a great success: beautiful orchids and flowering creepers, daintily and tastefully arranged, ornamented the table, and the courses were so admirably designed and cooked, that one would have thought a cordon bleu had had control of the kitchen. There could be no doubt that the lady of the house was an excellent housewife, and on this occasion had not only superintended and assisted in the cooking, but had herself arranged the table. If I had been a believer in magic, I might have imagined that Mrs Martin was the owner of Aladdin’s ring, and had used it for our benefit.
Next day I called on Mr Gould, and had a long chat with him. Had I been possessed of the annals of my family, like the chief of Kiang Hai, I would have certainly called for them, and inscribed his name there in capital letters as a benefactor, as he gave me, joy of joys to a smoker, fifty excellent cigars, which were a great treat to me, for mine had been finished for some weeks, and I had been forced to regale myself with country-made cigars and cigarettes, which are certainly not remarkable for an enjoyable aroma or a pleasant flavour.
ZIMMÉ TO B. MEH HANG
Scale of English Miles.