A thousand miles on an elephant in the Shan States

by Holt S. Hallett

Loi Too-ey is said to be the highest mountain in the country, and forms part of the spinal range which divides the waters of the Meh Kong, or Cambodia river, from those of the Salween. Just to the north of this mountain a freak of nature has occurred, such as is frequent in Western China and Indo-China,—the upper sources of the Meh Hang, which naturally belong to the drainage of the Meh Ping, have percolated through a fault in the great range of hills, and now find their way by an underground passage into the Salween. Before this passage was made, the head-plains of the Meh Hang formed the bottom of a great lake which was, and is still partially, drained by the Hua Sai, a branch of the Meh Soom into the Meh Ping.

Two ancient cities, Muang Hâng and Muang Teung, and several villages, are situated in the old lake-basin which forms part of the British Shan States; it is solely occupied by Burmese Shans, and was included in the Burmese Shan States under the name of Muang Hâng. The upper parts of the Meh Ping and Meh Teng valleys are likewise occupied and owned by Burmese Shans, although claimed by the Zimmé Shans as part of their State; and I was told that the possession of the basins of the Meh Pai and Meh Fang is also a moot question and a subject of quarrel between our subjects and those of the Siamese. These questions will have to be fixed by the Boundary Commission appointed for demarcating our frontier with Siam.

Leaving the Meh Teng, we crossed a low plateau partially crowned with teak-trees to the Meh Ping at a point where the river is contracted to 70 feet in breadth. Continuing through the teak-forest, we skirted the Meh Ping, the hills on either side gradually drawing in, until at 28½ miles the defile commenced, the slopes of the spurs fringing both sides of the river. Shortly afterwards we halted for the night, near a stream of petrifying water, which had turned the gravel in the river-bed opposite its mouth into a bank of conglomerate, and forced the river to take a rectangular bend, cutting into the hill on the opposite bank.

Our camp was situated in a wild spot which appeared to be closed in by hills on all sides. Many of the trees were giants of the forests, with great buttresses springing out from the trunk several feet from the ground; others were being slowly strangled by creepers of large girth, which, twining round their trunks and branches like gigantic snakes, sprang in great festoons and wreaths from tree to tree, making the forest in places appear one vast tangle. The Rangoon creeper crested some of the trees with its pretty flowers; and beautiful flowering shrubs, creepers, and trees were in full blossom. From beneath the branches of a great tree called mai ngoon, great semicircular beehives were suspended, and the pegs that had been driven into its trunk to serve as a ladder for the honey and wax collectors, looked like knots on the tree, being overgrown and hidden by the sap. As the moon rose over the hills, and shed its delusive beams amongst the trees and on the water, the beauty of the scene raised one’s poetic fancies, and made one nearly believe it the effect of enchantment.

The next morning we continued up the gorge, at times crossing and recrossing the river. On passing the boundary between the provinces of Kiang Dow and Muang Ken, which crossed the path at 32 miles, I noticed a small wooden altar on which had been placed offerings of grass and flowers. The boundary was marked by a rude gateway made of two posts connected at the top by a narrow network of strings, under which the elephants passed. On inquiry I learned that the network was intended to entangle evil spirits proceeding along the path, and thus protect the territory from demons coming to work harm from the neighbouring province.

Loi Chaum Haut from Ban Meh Meh.

Just beyond 33 miles the hills retire, and the gorge ends near the village of Ban Meh Kap. A mile farther we crossed an ancient Chinese fortification called Viang Hau, consisting of two ditches one encircling the other—about 40 feet broad, and from 10 to 15 feet deep—and an intermediate rampart. A suburb of Ban Meh Meh is situated within the enclosure. Shortly after passing through the fort we halted at the temple of the main village for breakfast. Here I had a capital view of the hills to the east which divide this portion of the Meh Ping from its eastern branch, the Meh Ngat.

View of Loi Pa-Yat Pa-Yai.