View of Loi Mun Moo pass and hills east of Meh Wung.
We put up for the night in a large and beautifully decorated temple, near the bank of the Meh Wung, which is here 80 feet broad and 9 feet deep, with 1 foot of water flowing in its bed. Ban Mai is 57 miles from Zimmé, and 1462 feet above the sea, or less than 700 feet lower than the water-parting separating it from the Meh Low. Just before reaching the village, I sketched the hills lying to the east of the Meh Wung, which divide it from the valley of the Meh Ing.
My head was aching with a bad bilious attack when I arrived, so I determined to go without dinner, and took a couple of Cockle’s pills. These pills are simply invaluable in such cases, and I never travel without them. As soon as my things were unpacked, I sent for the governor, and procured the names of the villages in the Muang, and got him to make a map on the ground with matches to show me the position of the villages and streams.
The scene was one not easily to be forgotten. The magnificent posts covered with red lacquer and ornamented with gold, increasing in height with the tiers of the roof; the centre and side aisles lengthening out in the gloom; the chancel in the distance, with its great gilded image of Gaudama,—were shrouded in darkness, save for the dim religious light cast by my two wax candles.
Next morning the governor sent me a present of fowls and vegetables, accompanied by a guard of honour, armed with Tower muskets marked with G. R., a crown, and London, to attend me as far as Ban Pang Kai. Whilst sketching the hills at the head of the valley, my hands were absolutely gloved with flies, and you could hardly have put a pin between the flies on the backs of my attendants; but luckily they were innocuous, and did not lust after our blood. I halted for the night at the temple of Ban Pang Kai. Another heavy thunderstorm, accompanied by rain, happened in the evening. The roof of the temple was so leaky, that I had to protect my bed from the drippings with waterproof sheets.
Whilst halting for breakfast on the following day, near the hot springs on the Meh Low, I had my chair placed some distance from the camp under a great Mai Hai tree, which was dropping its damson-like fruit. A Moosur, with black turban, trousers, and jacket, passed by, and was shortly afterwards followed by another, who, startled at seeing me, looked about suspiciously, and clutching his gun, brought it to the front as he sidled past me. A little later, on returning to the camp, I found both of the men sitting round the fire, having an amicable smoke, and an attempt at a chat with my boys.
I was glad to hear on my return to Zimmé that Dr Cushing had so far recovered as to have been able to leave for Bangkok on April 30th. The thoughtful kindness of this missionary in taking over from me the management of the commissariat and camp arrangements during our journeys, together with his skill in keeping the loads of each elephant separate, and having only such things unpacked as were immediately required, enabled me to start by daybreak every morning (except when we were delayed by the carelessness of the elephant-drivers, who occasionally allowed their animals to stray), and I was thus able to make longer journeys and do more work than I could otherwise have done.
I trust that the knowledge he was able to collect of the various dialects of the Shan language, and the information he gained about the customs and habits of the Ping Shans, will be a full recompense to him for the constant and enthusiastic manner in which he took up those matters. It is only by acquiring a thorough knowledge of the languages, habits, customs, and superstitions of the people, that missionaries can hope to influence and convert them. The noble work that Dr Cushing has done in translating the Bible into Shan will greatly aid his fellow-missionaries in Christianising and civilising not only the Shans but the neighbouring tribes who understand their language. The greatest field for missionaries in Indo-China lies, undoubtedly, amongst the non-Buddhist hill-tribes, where so much good work has already been done by the American Baptist, the American Presbyterian, and China Inland Missions.
Dr M‘Gilvary, and Dr and Mrs Peoples, were away in the district when I arrived, and Mr and Mrs Webster were out. Dr Cushing had taken the two Shan interpreters, one of whom was his writer, to Bangkok with him, and my servants soon went off to the bazaar, leaving me alone in the house. The third chief of Zimmé, hearing of my return, called to pay me a visit, which proved as amusing as my interview with the father of Chow Nan.
On calling on Mr and Mrs Martin, they invited me to dinner the next evening; and Mr Martin expressed himself willing to accompany me on my next journey, and believed that Dr M‘Gilvary had made up his mind likewise to do so. This was indeed good tidings, and I at once accepted the proposal. I am indebted to this gentleman for a very interesting diary that he kept for me during the journey.