At the junction of one of the many roads which diverged to Karen villages and the Thoungyeen from our track after leaving the pass, we noticed the death-offering of some Sgau Karens belonging to a neighbouring village. The offering was a propitiatory one to the spirit of the deceased, and proffered in order to induce it not to return and haunt the village. A silver coin had been placed in the ground beneath a rudely carved figure, on the top of which narrow strips of red and white cloth were hung; around the figure was a tiny fence, roofed in with a small bamboo platform. Miniature jackets and trousers were suspended from small poles at the sides of the fence. Food, which had been placed on the platform, was no longer there—the thieving birds having most likely deprived the poor ghost of it.
After breakfast we entered the defile, and descended from the plateau in the bed of the Koo Saik Choung, which falls 135 feet in the distance of a mile in a series of gentle cascades, separated by ice-cold running pools as clear as crystal; the towering precipices on either side looming through the trees, with their crests hidden by the dense foliage, and the natural colonnade formed by the evergreen forest through which we were passing rendering the air delightfully cool. How charming it would have been to have breakfasted in this pleasant retreat among the lichen-covered limestone boulders, mosses, and ferns! Leaving the defile, we followed the Thoungyeen down-stream past the Siamese guard-station, which lies on the other bank—the river forming the frontier—to the ford.
The river at the ford is 250 feet wide from bank to bank, with the channel reduced to 70 feet by a great shoal of boulders, now uncovered, stretching from the western bank. The current being swift and the water chest-deep, some of the men were nearly swept away whilst crossing. The boys went in up to their hips, and stood trembling, afraid to proceed farther. I therefore told them to return to the strand, and I would send elephants from the camp to bring them across.
The bank of the river is about 206 feet above mean sea-level at Maulmain. After passing the ford, we crossed the Meh Tha Wah, passed the guard-house, and camped about half a mile off, near the stream and some rice-fields. As soon as the elephants were unloaded, I sent two back for the boys; but meanwhile they had found their way to the ferry, and crossed the river in a boat. The guard-house is 38 miles from Hlineboay.
CHAPTER III.
REV. D. WEBSTER’S PARTY DETAINED—SIAMESE OFFICIALS EXPECT BRIBES—PHOTOGRAPHIC PLATES ALL SPOILT—VISIT FROM KARENS—JOINED BY THE B.B. PARTY—SIAMESE POLICE POST—GORGES IN THE THOUNGYEEN AND MEH NIUM—RAPIDS STOP NAVIGATION—FORESTS AND ELEPHANTS—DWARF RACES—KAMOOK AND KAMAIT SLAVES HIRED BY OUR FORESTERS—MIGRATION OF LAOS FROM TONQUIN—THE KHAS OF LUANG PRABANG—SACRIFICES TO DEMONS—DRINKING THE HEALTH OF STRANGERS—KING OF SIAM ALLOWS SLAVE-HUNTING—MISSIONARIES REQUIRED IN THE MEH KONG VALLEY—LEAVE THE GUARD-HOUSE—CROSSING THE WATER-PARTING—WILD TEA—KAREN VILLAGES BUILT DISTANT FROM ROAD—COUNTRY FORMERLY LACUSTRINE—SHELTER FOR THE NIGHT—HEAVY RAIN—A SHOWER-BATH IN BED—ELEPHANTS CROSSING STEEP HILLS—WILD ANIMALS—REACH THE MEH NIUM—KAREN PIGS—REMAINS OF A LAKE-BOTTOM—THE MAING LOONGYEE PLAIN—EPIDEMIC OF SMALLPOX—VILLAGES TABOOED—ARRIVE AT MAING LOONGYEE—MOUNG HMOON TAW’S HOUSE—A TIMBER PRINCE AND THE MONEY-LENDERS.
The sala, or traveller’s rest-house, we found occupied by the Rev. David Webster, who with his wife and pretty little golden-haired daughter was on his way to Zimmé by a route to the south of that we intended taking. Mr Webster is a missionary of the American Baptist Mission, which together with the American Presbyterian Mission has been highly successful in civilising and converting the Karens in Burmah. He was now on his way to the Siamese Shan States, as he had heard from some of his converts that there were many Karens in Central Indo-China.
In Burmah he had only been able to hire elephants to carry them as far as the frontier, and was therefore at the mercy of the Siamese official in charge of the guard. He had omitted on principle to grease this petty potentate’s palms, with the result that he had been detained waiting for thirteen days. Having lost patience, he had endeavoured to hire the elephants direct from the Karens instead of waiting for the Jack-in-office to take action, but found the Karens were afraid to let them on hire to him for fear of rousing their tyrant’s anger, or having to part with a portion of the hire.
I stopped over the next day to allow the Bombay Burmah party to join us, which they did in the afternoon. In the morning I unpacked my photographic apparatus, and took views of the country, guard-station, and Mr Webster’s party, which included several Karen girls who were attached to their schools. When unpacking the dry plates, I was dismayed to find many adhering to the tissue-paper covers, and all of them spotted by damp. As I opened packet after packet on my journey, I found them all in the same plight, and before I reached Zimmé ceased photographing, and sent the views—some fifty in number—that I had taken, to Mr Klier, the photographer in Rangoon, who had kindly promised to develop them for me.
In the afternoon a Karen man with his little boy and girl came to visit our camp. The children were greatly pleased with the bead necklaces which I gave them. Messrs Bryce and Boss, who had with them ten elephants and eleven ponies and mules—the latter purchased from the Chinese caravan which had passed us when halting on the Hlineboay river—arrived towards dusk, and camped near us.