Dear M. Mouhot,
It must be allowed that you have plenty of courage; and before knowing you, I feel a strong interest in you; indeed, I feel as though I loved you already. You will be very welcome, and must share pot-luck with me, like a brother, will you not? I trust you will not be scandalized at any of our ways; for among the savages we live in rather an uncivilized fashion. But with good hearts all will go well.
Your servant Nhu arrived yesterday among the Stiêns at Brelum, quite tired with the journey, and with his feet in a sad state. A few days’ rest, however, will restore him. He looks to me like a good fellow. You may be sure we shall take care of him, as well as of your little Chinese when he arrives.
You must never trust to the word of a Cambodian, dear M. Mouhot; they are terrible boasters.
You are two long days’ journey from us, and will have to pass one night in the forest. We will try to send you one or two vehicles. These, with a good covering and a fire, will preserve you from injury from the night air. You say, too, that you are accustomed to sleep on the ground; it is well to be able to do everything.
Unluckily, my feet are very bad just now, or I should have been delighted to come and meet you. I will send the three carriages—carriages! wretched carts rather! There will be an Annamite seminarist to lead the caravan; he is a good fellow, and clever at that kind of work. You can talk to him in Latin. Two of the carts are drawn by oxen, and one by buffaloes; but if they are not enough to bring your luggage, ask the Cambodians boldly for more, and show them your letter from the king.
Our carts will arrive one day after the return of the Cambodians; when you arrive I will explain why. I trust that will be soon. I wish you a good journey. Keep your gun loaded, for animals of all kinds abound. But you will find here warm hearts, patriotism, and, above all, no ceremony.
From M. Chas. Fontaine.
Pinhalú, Cambodia.
Dear M. Mouhot,