On our approach he set up a roar more frightful than ever, and the whole herd advanced slowly towards us. We remained in a stooping position, half hidden behind the trees, which were too tall for us to climb. I was in the act of taking aim at the forehead of the leader, the only vulnerable part, but an Annamite who stood beside me, and who was an old hunter, knocked up my rifle, and begged me not to fire; “for,” said he, “if you kill or wound one of the elephants we are lost; and even if we should succeed in escaping, the oxen, the waggons, and all their contents would be overwhelmed by the fury of these animals. If there were but two or three, we might hope to kill them; but nine, of whom five are very large, are too many; and it will be more prudent to retreat.” At this moment, Father Guilloux, who had not much confidence in his powers of locomotion, fired his gun in the air to frighten the elephants; and this plan fortunately succeeded: the herd stopped in astonishment for an instant, then turned round, and marched into the forest.
EXCHANGE OF PRESENTS.
When we reached Pemptiélan we stopped at the house of the mandarin, whose authority extends over the neighbouring district, and, contrary to the usual custom, he offered us hospitality under his own roof. Scarcely, however, were we installed when he came to me and asked for the best of my guns, and, on my declining to part with it, he begged for something else, intimating that we should have begun by offering a present. Thereupon I gave him a suit of European clothes, a powder-flask and some powder, a hunting-knife, and some other small articles. In return he presented me with an ivory trumpet, and placed at my service two elephants to enable me to continue my route more comfortably: he likewise sent off our people with a letter to the chiefs of the Srokkhner.
RECENT ACTS OF OPPRESSION.
We resumed our journey on the following day, the Abbé on one elephant, reading his breviary, and I upon another, both of us greatly enjoying the beauty of the landscape. Thus we traversed the beautiful plains, which, when I formerly travelled this road, were inhabited by the poor Thiâmes; but now, in place of rich harvest, I was astonished to find nothing but large trees: the villages were abandoned, and the houses and enclosures in ruins. It appeared that the mandarin of Pemptiélan, executing or exceeding the orders of his master the king of Cambodia, had kept these unfortunate people in such a state of slavery and oppression that they had even been deprived of their fishing and agricultural implements, and, being left without money or resources, experienced such frightful poverty that many of them died of hunger.
The poor wretches, to the number of several thousands, and under the conduct of a chief on whose head a price had been set, and who had secretly returned from Annam, rose in revolt. Those from Penom-Peuh went to Udong to protect their brethren in that place in their flight; and when all were united in one body, they descended the river, and passed into Cochin China. Orders were issued by the king to arrest their departure, but no one remained to execute them; for the whole Cambodian population, with the mandarins at their head, had fled into the forests at the first news of the rising.
Besides the interest inspired by the misfortunes of these poor people, their conduct, when all fled before them, and left Udong, Pinhalú, and Penom-Peuh defenceless, was so noble as greatly to increase this feeling. “We have no enmity against the people,” said they, “if they will but let us pass and respect our property; but we will put to death whoever opposes our flight.” And, in fact, they never touched one of the large boats which were moored near the market, and unguarded, but took to the river in their narrow and miserable pirogues.
In passing opposite the island of Ko-Sutin we stopped to see Father Cordier. The good missionary was in a sad state: his malady had got worse; and his debility was such that he could scarcely drag himself from his bed to a chair. He had no food but rice and dried fish; and the only persons to care for him, and wait upon him, were two children of ten years old. We begged him to accompany us to Pinhalú, but he declined, on account of his weakness. “All I regret,” said he, “is, that I shall see my poor parents no more; but for that, I should await death calmly, and almost with joy.” All our solicitations that he would go with us were unavailing; and we were forced to pursue our journey, very sad at leaving him in so painful a position, and at our inability to give him any relief.
On the 21st December we at last reached Pinhalú.
PENOM-PEUH.