I hope, my little friend, that all is well with you. Embrace your dear children for me, and talk to them sometimes about their uncle “Barberousse,” who often thinks of them in this distant land, and is collecting stories for their amusement on his return. Ask C—— what I shall bring him—a monkey, a sabre to cut off M——’s dolls’ heads—no, that would give him warlike ideas, and I do not like our modern soldiers—or a tiger-skin for a carpet. I have several. And your pretty little M——, will she have an ape, a fan, some Chinese slippers (for she must have feet which would be small even in China), some marabout feathers, or a cane to keep her brothers in order?
Adieu, adieu! Au revoir! Do not forget me.
To Madame Mouhot.
Laos, Louang Prabang, 27th July, 1861.
During my journey through the forests I enjoyed in anticipation the pleasure I should enjoy on reaching Louang Prabang, the capital of the province of Laos, in writing you good long letters containing all details of my journey; but I reckoned without my host, and it will be several weeks before I can enjoy any repose, or carry my wishes into execution.
In the villages through which I passed no great degree of curiosity was manifested; but here, where the population is greater, I am surrounded by a compact and curious crowd, which extends even to the walls of a pagoda adjoining the caravanserai where I am lodged by the favour of his Majesty the King. Besides, I, in my turn, see people of various nations and tribes who excite my curiosity. Judge, therefore, if it be easy to collect my ideas. However, I profit by the occasion of the king’s departure for Bangkok in a few days to pay his tribute, and who has offered to take charge of any letters for me, to give some signs of life to you.
You will be happy to hear that I have accomplished this troublesome journey satisfactorily, without the loss of a single man, and without any personal illness. Indeed, my health has been very good, which is more than I can say for my servants, who are so kind and devoted to me. I am even astonished at myself, having gone through the mountainous district which separates the basin of the Menam from that of the Mekon, a place much dreaded by the Siamese, and covered with virgin-forests like those of Dong Phya Phia, without having had a single touch of fever, or, indeed, any indisposition, with the exception of migraine, caused by the heat of the sun, and having my feet in a very bad state.
I bless God for the favour granted to me of having accomplished these perilous journeys, and trust wholly to His goodness for the future.
I am now more than 250 leagues north of the place where two years ago I first drank the waters of the Mekon. This immense stream, which is larger here than the Menam at Bangkok or the Thames below London Bridge, flows between high mountains with the rapidity of a torrent, tearing up in the rainy season the trees along the banks, and breaking with a noise like that of a stormy sea against the rocks, which form a number of frightful rapids.
I arrived here only the day before yesterday, after a journey of four months and ten days; but I stopped in several places, for I often found fields ready to cut in the rice-grounds that the mountaineers cultivate on the slopes of the mountains, and when the crops are cut down insects abound.