"[Not long after the above was written, the writer learned that these boats are swelled out in their mid-ships by means of fire, and that the curves of their bows and sterns are increased by means of pieces of the same kind of timber so neatly fitted and firmly joined as to appear on a distant examination to be a continuation of the body of the boat.]
"On the morning of December 16th we were passing between Koh Samet and Sem Yah. After we passed this our course lay west-northwest to another cape called Sah Wa Larn. The wind was favorable but light, and we were becalmed in the heat of the day four hours or more. The heat was excessively oppressive. No shade on deck and my cabin a small place, not large enough to admit of my standing upright. Our vessel has been rowed much of the afternoon for the want of wind. Cast anchor just at evening a little east of Sah Wa Larn, having made less than twenty miles during the day. The coast about Lem Sing is very picturesque. West of this, till you come to Sah Wa Larn, it is uniformly level. The land appears to be entirely uncultivated. The forests are composed of large timber, their tops presenting a very uniform surface. I have much cause for gratitude to God that I find in my companion, Soot Chin Dah, a very attentive friend. He is desirous to render me all the assistance he can in acquiring the Siamese language, in which I hope I am making some proficiency by engaging with him in conversation.
"The scene between Koh Arat and Koh Yai, in the midst of which we were at anchor the next morning, is most charming. The distance from one to the other is about one mile. Arat is a small island rising very abruptly many hundred feet above the sea. At the top is a rock of a conical form, which seems on the point of rolling down with a tremendous crash into the sea. Koh Yai is a much larger island, and hence its name. A little before us was the cape Samaasarn, shielded against the sea by immense white rocks. Just as the sun was rising Soot Chin Dah invited me to accompany him to Koh Yai for a morning exercise. Our fine boat was manned with nineteen men, and we went off in princely style. We coasted some distance and then landed; whence we walked a long way, first on a sandy beach and then among rocks composed of marine shells interlaid with coral and shells of infinite variety. The land was all one unbroken jungle. Much of the small timber was of a thorny kind, which seemed to bid defiance to human invasion. Our men were chiefly engaged in picking up shells suitable for gambling purposes. On our return we touched at Arat, where I amused myself a little time in climbing around craggy and stupendous rocks. After two hours we returned to our junk well prepared for breakfast. The hired cook, which Luang Nai Sit had the goodness to provide for me, had my food all ready, consisting of a broiled chicken, salt and fresh eggs, and rice with tea. Soot Chin Dah eats by himself, sometimes in one place and sometimes in another. His food is very neatly served for him in a circular wooden tray. It is prepared by a Portuguese cook, and served by his inferior brother. When he is done eating, his brother, serang, assistant serang, and cook eat of the remainder, sitting on the deck. They use neither knife, fork, nor spoon, their fingers serving the purposes of these instruments. The helmsman and his mate, who are masters of the junk, and country-born Portuguese, eat by themselves in the style of the Siamese. The crew clan together in eating according to their nameless distinctions. Their main dependence is rice and fish. The former they eat out of the bark of a plantain tree rolled up at the sides and one end in the shape of a scoop shovel, or out of a most filthy-looking basket or cocoanut shell. There are three females on board who eat in the hold, where they remain almost constantly from morning to night. In the evening they come out to enjoy the fresh air, and have a most voluble chat with the men.
"About noon we anchored close to the shore of Sem Poo Chow, which is an abrupt and lofty promontory. Here three wild hogs made their appearance. Having looked upon us a few minutes they disappeared. It seemed wonderful that they could inhabit such a bluff, for a misstep would plunge them into the abyss below.
"On the evening of the 19th our captain ordered the anchor to be dropped, as we were on the bar at the mouth of the Meinam River, eight or ten miles from Paknam. We have had a good view of every mile of the coast along which we have passed to-day, and I may with but little qualification say the same of all the coast between this and Chantaboun. The coast north of Bangplasoi is low, without so much as a rock or hill to break the evenness of the jungle. We saw distinctly the entrance of Bangpakong River, its mouth appearing as large as that of the Meinam. I have spent much of this day in finishing charts of Chantaboun and the coast from thence to Paknam."
CHAPTER XII.
CHANTABOUN AND THE GULF.
Since the date of the missionary journey recorded in the last chapter Chantaboun has become a place of considerable commercial importance, being now the second port in the kingdom, noted for its ship-building and fisheries and carrying on an active export trade from Cambodia and the south-eastern provinces. The government regards the place as one of its chief cities, and has fortified the port at great expense. The prosperity and value of this province have improved since Mouhot's time, an account of whose visit there will afford an idea of its physical features and life.
M. Mouhot, it should be explained by way of introduction, was one of the most competent and gifted explorers of modern times. A Frenchman by birth, he became allied by his marriage with an Englishwoman to the family of Mungo Park, the famous African explorer. He was a faithful student of natural science, devoting himself especially to ornithology and conchology. While still a young man he travelled extensively in Russia, and there learned to speak both Russian and Polish. He was a good draughtsman and a practical photographer of large and varied experience; but more than all he was possessed of an adventurous and enthusiastic spirit, which welcomed danger when it came in the pursuit of scientific data, and which, together with his great bodily strength and physical constitution, especially fitted him for the life of an explorer. Mouhot's own creed was Protestant, but he was a man of such amiability and broad sympathies as to win the cordial affection of both Protestant and Catholic missionaries in the regions where he travelled. He was a man of devout and religious heart, and almost the last words of his journal, written while he was dying in the jungles of Laos, breathe a spirit of Christian faith and reliance on the love of God. His loss in the prime of manhood was severely felt by the scientific world as well as by those who were bound to him by ties of kinship or of personal acquaintance.