Continuing our descent, we shortly afterwards came to the source of the Meh Mau, and skirting its channel until we found water in its bed, halted for breakfast and for the night—being hungry, thirsty, and weary with our long march. My long-legged male elephant had kept me in perpetual torment by plunging at every step, and nearly breaking my back. The voices of deer were heard in the vicinity of the camp after dark. These inquisitive animals were most likely attracted by the light of our fires.
Next morning we crossed the Meh Mau, and soon afterwards left it at the point where it turns south to enter the Meh Chang, which empties into the Meh Wung—seven and a half hours’ journey to the south of Lakon. During the first three miles from the camp, we gradually ascended 171 feet to the source of the Huay Kyoo Lie, and then followed that brook down-stream for two miles to where its beautiful glen merges into the great plain of the Meh Wung.
After marching across the plain for three hours, we entered the rice-fields and suburbs of Ban Sa-det, and passing through the village, put up at the sala, or rest-house, which is situated on the banks of the Meh Wung. During the morning we met a party of Burmese Shans, accompanying 102 oxen laden with salt, which they were bartering for cotton to take back with them to Kiang Tung. Ban Sa-det is 60½ miles from Zimmé and 823 feet above the level of the sea.
The village was crowded with people from the neighbouring villages, who had come to join in the New Year festivities and to make their offerings at the temples and monasteries. Long strings of men, women, and children streamed past us in single file, all dressed in their best, on their way to the monasteries—some carrying baskets or brass trays on their heads, and others baskets dangling from both ends of a long flat shoulder-bamboo. Every conceivable want of the monks would certainly be satisfied. Pillows for their heads, handsomely worked three-cornered pillows to rest their elbows on, rugs to sit on, and mats for reclining; new yellow garments, lamps, palm-leaf manuscripts beautifully inscribed and covered with handsomely embroidered covers, fans and face-screens, luscious fruits and delicate viands,—what more could pious monks require, particularly when they were sheltered by such a beautiful and spacious building, situated in such a shady and well-kept garden, as had been erected for them by the people?
Women and children came crowding round the elephants whilst they were being unloaded; and as soon as our things were carried up the steps, followed closely in their wake to gaze at us and our doings and further satisfy their curiosity. Their natural politeness, however, forbade them to mount on to the verandah itself until they were invited to do so. Of course the invitation came as soon as we saw their heads above the level of the floor, and I ordered the boys to get out my packets of beads and bead necklaces so as to cheer the hearts of the little children with such inexpensive presents. How their eyes gloated on them! how their little hands clutched them when they were given! how the presents were passed round and separately admired! how this child wanted a necklace similar to what another child had got! how women who had no children with them urged that they had children at home, and pitifully besought me to give them beads for the absent ones! how there was no satisfying anybody! and those who could get no more were quickly replaced by others who had heard the glad tidings for the children. The whole formed a scene not easily forgotten, and I was sorry when I had to close my hoard in order to keep some of my wealth for distribution elsewhere.
The three days during which the festivities of the New Year last form the chief festival in Buddhist countries—except, perhaps, that ensuing at the end of the Buddhist Lent, which lasts from the day after the full moon of July to the full moon of October—when the merry season is ushered in by a great feasting of the monks, and fun waxes fast and furious. During Lent, marriages, feasts, and public amusements are forbidden to the pious. Some of the monks retire into the forest, or into caves in the hills far from the haunts of men, to devote themselves to religious meditation; and the people observe more strictly than usual the four duty-days which are prescribed in each lunar month, and in which all good Buddhists are expected to worship at the pagodas. Only the most pious of the monks turn into recluses during Lent. The remainder return each night to their monasteries, and are not free to roam through the country until that season is over. In the Ping States, throughout Lent, lanterns are hung aloft to guide the spirits through the air, and thus leave no excuse for them to descend into the streets. The observance of this custom is general, and probably arises from the fact that the close of the rains is an unhealthy season, and that certain spirits are believed to bring disease.
The malevolent and beneficent spirits—the belief in whom forms the earlier, and indeed the reigning, religion of the people—likewise have in the Shan States a Lent or season set apart for the stricter execution of religious duties towards them. This lasts from February to May, during which time the people very religiously observe the various rites and ceremonies of spirit-worship. One of these ceremonies consists in making offerings once in the eleventh month and once in the twelfth month to the spirits of the river, for having defiled the water by bathing and throwing refuse into it.
Evil spirits.
As soon as it is dark, the river becomes alive with joyous pleasure-seeking people hastening to the scene. Offerings, consisting of fairy skiffs and rafts of banana-stalks carrying flowers, betel-nut, seri-leaf, incense, and lighted tapers, are floated in myriads upon the river, and are replaced by others as they disappear in the distance. A similar ceremony occurs in Burmah and Siam at the close of Lent. Upon the toy rafts and boats floated in the river opposite Bangkok, and upon all the canals, are placed miniature temples, pagodas, and transparencies of birds and beasts, all brightly illuminated with wax candles. They are sent off one at a time, and float down with the tide, beautifully illuminating the river. When the miniature fleet has disappeared, the king applies a match to fireworks that have been arranged in boats; and then are seen trees of fire, green shrubbery, and a variety of flowers of ever-changing colours, with rockets and squibs in great profusion. Large and small guns are fired from the surrounding walls of Bangkok to scare away the evil spirits; and during the three days of the New Year festival, companies of priests are employed by the king on the top of the walls, going through certain ceremonies in concert, so as to drive the evil spirits from the city.