[Illustration: JUNGLE KNIVES.]
West-north-west about 5 miles is the Pak Fai Mai, as the Laos call the two volcanic vents which, elevated at not more than 200 feet above the plain, are situated in a thin bamboo jungle. Each of the vents is about 200 yards long, sloping slightly in a direction 20° east of south, and 70 to 80 yards wide; the southerly one is the least inactive of the two. Slight smoke rises in several places, but for the most part one can walk about on the bottom anywhere, except at the south-eastern end, where there is a series of largish cracks, whence smoke and free sulphurous acid rise in small quantities; here the ground is very hot, and 2 feet in the cracks are red hot, and one can light a bamboo at them. There were traces of the action of sulphuretted hydrogen or of carbonic acid, and the crust of sulphur at the openings may be due to the decomposition of the former gas. I could neither hear nor see of there having been any great activity at any time in the past, but the existence of a present dormant volcanic action is evident. Why this vent has occurred in the position it has is not obvious; there is no apparent line of dislocation, nor has it chosen the valley proper.[3] In the rains there is, I was told, a good deal of steam rising, as is natural, and more spluttering and activity than we saw. At the northern end there were traces of elephants on the slag (which is everywhere highly coloured from iron chloride); they are proverbially afraid of fire, so it may be inferred that the activity is not great. Southward the vent, which from the slag surface to the top of its sides is not more than 30 feet, is advancing, and the blackened stumps of newly fallen trees and bamboo clumps lie about, with marks of recent falls in the bank.
[Illustration: MOUTH OF NAM SUUNG, ABOVE LUANG PRABANG.]
The weather was now getting hot, March being the worst month in this district. Thermometer minimum (for three days south of Ban Tanun) 72°, maximum in the sala 94°. Distant thunder in the evenings muttering continually. This weather continued, with thick haze air, till we reached Luang Prabang. We had fresh south-westerly winds blowing very hot, and at night rain squalls. Our first impression of the town was not good; after a long day's pulling, helping the men, who were very tired with the heat, we got in at dusk. The temperature ashore, in the streets, or on the sand slope, was oppressive; but when, after some supper, we went up to call on Phra Prasada, the Commissioner appointed from Bangkok, and there enjoyed some real coffee and the luxury of a punkah, in the fine new Government offices he had just finished building, and heard the bugles ringing out all round, and the weird march music of the kans, which are more played in this province than almost any other, we forgot the heat in the pleasures of the change of life.
[Illustration: APPROACH TO LUANG PRABANG FROM NORTH.]
Throughout my stay in this locality, the help we received from the Commissioner, who is full of energy, was enormous. He has undoubtedly done a great deal, practically, for the welfare of the people here, and was most popular; and he has also made extensive collections of the produce of the province, which will soon be in Bangkok. He is a man of observation and ideas, absolutely straight, and without any humbug in his disposition. I was surprised to find that he could read English well, and talk it moderately, and still more to find this has all been acquired since he came to the north as Commissioner seven years ago. This of itself shows an unusual man, and I record it because it is not often realized that there are such men among the Siamese. His time was up, and Phya Pechai was appointed to the post just before I left, and he came south before the trouble with France reached its climax lately.
[Footnote 3: This valley drains into the Nam Ngum, and so into the Mekong. The big mass of Doi Luang to the south is the division between the Meinam and Mekong drainages here.]
PART IV.
Luang Prabang (March, 1893).
Making expeditions in various directions, Luang Prabang was our head-quarters for about three weeks. Of all the country round, the town itself seems to be the hottest place, and to be away in the jungle was infinitely preferable to staying in the bungalow, where at sunset the thermometer was generally still at 92°. Unlike Nan, Chieng Mai, or Korat, there is no wall around the town, which is the usual collection of substantial teak houses, and large roomy monasteries, of which one-half are in ruins. The latter, however, show signs of some fine gilding and decorative work, and a good deal of architectural effort has been expended upon them. They have been allowed, after the strange custom of the Buddhists, to fall to rack and ruin without an attempt being made to save them; because, one would think, by some strange mistake, the repairing of a monastery makes no merit, though building a brand-new one, however third-rate in style or bad in finish, is one of the highest of merit-making acts.