STORY OF THE PEACOCK AND CROW.
In days of yore when time was young, and birds conversed as well as sung, the peacock and the crow were both grey birds. One day, at the suggestion of the peacock, they mutually agreed each to do its utmost to improve the personal appearance of the other. The crow, taking a paintbrush, some fine feathers, and beautiful colours, in an artistic manner performed his part of the bargain. Then handing the brush to the peacock, who was admiring himself in a placid pool, asked that bird to decorate him. The peacock, excited with admiration and conceit at his splendid appearance, for a long time turned a deaf ear to the remonstrances and pleadings of the crow. At length, taking the brush, he laid on the crow a layer of black as a ground-work for the other colours. Then strutting off to the pool he had another look at himself. Returning, he shrieked with laughter at the contrast, and dancing round the crow, displaying his lovely plumage, assured the justly incensed bird that he was such fun, he could not think of spoiling his appearance by further use of the brush.
View to the south from a hillock behind Muang Haut.
Before dinner I clambered up the southern hillock at the back of the town, and sketched the country from the base of a pagoda. To the south, fourteen miles distant, appeared Loi Kern, the northern flank of the great bulwark of hills and table-land through which the Meh Ping tears its way in stupendous gorges to the plains of Siam. One of its eastern peaks is crested by a pagoda of much sanctity, to which pilgrims from all parts gather. Between us and Loi Kern lay a great forest-clad plain, with short spurs jutting into it from the Bau plateau. The narrow rice-plain of Muang Haut could be seen winding like a large river through the forest. Turning to the west, Loi Kom loomed above the spurs, and between it and Loi Kern stretched Loi Pang Ma, the eastern flank of the Bau plateau. The pagoda on the hillock to the north and west of the one that I was sketching from is called Tat Oo-kyow, or the pagoda of the gemmed offering-box. Another pagoda cresting a neighbouring peak at the end of a spur is named Tat Loi Som.
In the evening I was amused by watching Veyloo and Jewan having a long conversation with a Zimmé Shan about the prices of things in that place. Every day they had learned a few words and sentences of Shan from Portow, and now, with the aid of expressive signs and gestures, were prepared to do battle with the stall-keepers in the bazaars.
The next morning we sent for the head-man of the town to arrange for a fresh supply of elephants to take us to Zimmé, and to obtain what information we could from him. He came followed by several of the villagers, and ascending the stairs, crouched shekoing on the threshold. On our asking him to approach to our temporary table, he came half crawling and half hopping in on his hands and feet like a huge toad. This is the ordinary mode of courtesy shown by an inferior to a superior in the Shan States and Siam. Not only the common people and village head-men use this form of ceremony, but a prince visiting another of higher social rank either prostrates himself on the ground, or squats down, places the palms of his hands together, and raises them up to his face.
He said elephants were not procurable in the neighbourhood of Muang Haut, and to procure boats to convey us and our things to Zimmé might take him two or three days. The ordinary hire for an elephant from Zimmé to Muang Haut was 30 rupees. The hire of a boat, including a steersman and three polers, from Muang Haut to Zimmé was 60 rupees, and two boats would be required for our party.
The wages of each boatman to Bangkok varied between 70 and 80 rupees; to Raheng, from 24 to 25 rupees; to Paknam Po, 30 rupees; and to Zimmé, 15 rupees. The time taken by a boat in going to Bangkok averaged fifteen days in the rains, and thirty days in the dry season. From Bangkok to Muang Haut took forty-five days in the rains, and two months in the dry season. From Zimmé to Muang Haut took two days in the rains, and from four to five in the dry season. From Muang Haut to Zimmé, six days in the dry season; in the rains the journey was always done by elephant.
A caravan-man conducting eight to ten laden bullocks from Zimmé to Muang Haut and back received 10 rupees with food, or 15 rupees without food, the journey there taking him eight days. From Zimmé to Maulmain and back he got 20 rupees with food, or 30 rupees without food, the journey there taking thirty days. A good bullock carries 40 viss; a small one, 30 viss: no load is ever placed on a cow.
A porter carrying 20 viss—66⅔ lb.—receives 2 rupees a viss going to Maulmain, and the same returning to Zimmé, or at the rate of Rs. 1344 a ton carried either way. The journey for a quick travelling porter from Zimmé to Maulmain takes fifteen days, and the same back.
The rainfall at Muang Haut and Zimmé was less than at Maing Loongyee. Sometimes for a whole month in the rains it only drizzled now and then. The previous year the crops on the higher ground had suffered through deficient rainfall. The rice-fields yielded a hundred-fold on the best land, and from fifty-fold upwards on the poorest. The town contained fifty houses; its inhabitants were traders and cultivators, chiefly the former.
Having pumped the head-man dry, we wandered through the town and inspected the religious buildings. The temple was a fine building 54 feet long, varying in breadth from 17 feet at the porch, 21 feet at the two ends, to 24 feet in the central portion. The roofs were in two tiers, leaving a space of 2 or 3 feet between the tiers. The roof of the centre portion rose higher than that of each end, and the roof of the porch was lower. Leading up to the porch was a plastered brick staircase. The floor and walls were likewise of plastered brickwork, and stopped some distance from the roof, which was supported by teak posts, those on the outside being built into the wall. In the centre portion, and the end next the porch, wooden gratings were let into the walls to aid in lighting the buildings. The interior posts which supported the upper tiers of the central portion were painted black, with an ornamental band of gilding 4½ feet from the ground. The two posts in the chancel were painted red, with a similar gilded band at the same height from the ground. Inside the chancel was a sitting image of Gaudama 10 feet high, and six others 4 feet high, besides a dozen smaller ones.
When at Maing Longyee some large images were being made, and in my walks I watched the process from day to day. A core of clay is first accurately carved into the required shape. It is then plastered over with a layer of cloth. Over this is spread a thick coating of thyt-si varnish mixed with sawdust. Other coatings are then added until the required stiffness is acquired. The casting is then removed from the core by slitting it up along the sides. It is then carried to the temple and erected on the pedestal that has been prepared for it. The halves being placed together, other coatings are applied which cause the halves to adhere. The whole is then perfected with a layer of gold-leaf. Some of the larger idols are made of bricks plastered over, others of stone, and some of bronze.
Under a shed in the temple grounds were several musical instruments—amongst them two large tapering drums, one 2 feet 9 inches long, 11 inches in diameter at the larger head, and 9 inches in diameter at the smaller head. The other drum was of the same size, but had only a single head; its tapered end was fixed in a hollowed-out pedestal of padouk wood, which was so resonant as to be nearly a drum in itself.
After visiting the abbot, who had a few novices with him in the monastery, and trying to bargain with him for some of his palm-leaf documents, we returned to the sala. On our way back we noticed two boats discharging their cargoes of rice, and at once hired them for our journey to Zimmé. They were flat-bottomed, and each about 40 feet long. When all the luggage and men were on board, we had only space enough to sit in a cramped position on a mat, the mat roof nearly touching our heads.
At 6 A.M. the temperature was 54° in the shade; at 2 P.M., 89° in the shade, and 118° in the sun; at 3 P.M., 92° in the shade; and at 8 P.M., 77° in the shade.
MAUNC HAUT TO KIANC HSEN