A thousand miles on an elephant in the Shan States

by Holt S. Hallett

“This is characteristic of all the settlements in Siam, both in the larger cities and in the provinces. In Bangkok the inhabitants of the different quarters have gradually become amalgamated; but not far from the capital the colonies of former captives of war still retain their language and customs, and keep up little intercourse with their conquerors. In the northern country the separation is as complete, and the town of Chiengmai (Zimmé), for instance, is divided into numerous quarters, inhabited almost exclusively by people of a different race; and many of the villages in the province are also colonies of refugees or captives.

“A settlement of this description entails considerable labour, and it is curious to note from what a distant source Muang Fang draws its labour-supply. At the time of my visit (early in 1887) to the province, most of the hard work of clearing the jungle was done by a band of several hundred hired labourers. These men belong to a people called by the Laos, Thai Yai, or Thai Lueng (Chinese Shans from the Chinese Shan States lying to the east of Bhamo), the inhabitants of the country tributary to China lying north of the (Burmese) Shan States, close to Yunnan and Burmah. They had followed the course of the Salween as far as Mehongson (Muang Houngson on the Meh Pai), the western frontier province of Chiengmai, and thence had come across country to Muang Fang. Some of them return to their country with only a year’s earnings, but they are soon replaced by fresh arrivals. They are said to be better and hardier labourers than either the Ngios or Laos, and they will probably be employed with advantage in the construction of public works in Burmah.”

Returning to my conversation with the Chow, he said that the city was sacked by the Burmese general Soo Too after a siege of three years and three months—the people escaping to Zimmé. At that time Phya Pim-ma-san was the Chow Luang (governing chief), and his wife was named Nang Lo Cha. The night the city was taken, the governor climbed up a tree, hoping to escape detection; but being espied, was made prisoner, and fastened up with his wife and two favourite officers. When morning came they were all missing, and were found drowned in a well which is still pointed out. This seems to be an adaptation of the story of the Mongol Prince of Yunnan, who, when the army sent by Hungwu, the first Emperor of the Ming Dynasty, in A.D. 1381 captured Yunnan-Fu, with his family and minister drowned themselves in the neighbouring lake.

He told me, with reference to the cost of carriage, that the charge for bringing each bucket (25 lb.) of rice from Viang Pow to Muang Fang—a distance of 40 miles—varied between 8 annas in the dry season and 10 annas in the rainy season, which gives an average of 1¼ rupee a ton per mile, or forty times as much as is charged for conveyance by rail in Burmah.

As my companions wished to have a hunt after big game, the Chow sent for a celebrated hunter called Mau Sau, or Dr Tiger. Whilst awaiting his arrival, Mr Martin noticed that the man who had been sent as a guide with us from Bau Meh Soon, carried a knife with a handsomely carved ivory handle. On asking what he would sell it for, the man said that he had made it himself, and that Mr Martin might have it for 5 salungs (1 rupee and 12 annas). On Mr Martin drawing out several from his pocket, the man reflected for a while, and then remarked that the Nai was rich, and yet had only given him 5 salungs; but when Mr Martin remarked he had given him all he had bargained for, he had nothing to say, and took his departure.

The hunter gave me a good deal of information about the country, and indicated the position of the sources of the various rivers. He said he would gladly take my companions the following day to a place in the hills where game was plentiful, if Dr M‘Gilvary would arrange with the governor—who would be back later in the afternoon—for beaters.

On my noticing that several of the men wore pieces of cotton-thread tied round their wrists, Dr M‘Gilvary told me that it was a bond of friendship showing that the wearer was a sworn companion to another man. It is the custom in many parts of Indo-China for men to enter into these solemn friendships. It exists in Cambodia, and likewise amongst the Karens and other people. Amongst the Koui, in Cambodia, the ceremony is performed before the village elders. Five taper candles and five sticks of incense are lighted to call the spirits to witness the act; cotton-threads are wound about the wrists of the young men to produce a mystical tie between them. Holy water is then imbibed by each of the oath-takers, and the ceremony is concluded. In Forbes’s ‘British Burma’ he gives an account of this ceremony amongst the Karens, which runs as follows: “There exists a singular institution of brotherhood among them, and to a certain extent among the Burmans, although I believe the latter have borrowed it from their wilder neighbours. When two Karens wish to become brothers, one kills a fowl, cutting off its beak, and rubs the blood on the front of the other’s legs, sticking on them some of the feathers. The augury of the fowl’s bones is then consulted, and, if favourable, the same ceremony is repeated by the other party; if the omens are still auspicious they say, ‘We will be brothers—we will grow old together—we will visit each other.’”

The practice of passing merit and mystical influence by the means of thread from one person to another seems to be of Brahmin origin, and enters into many ceremonies in Siam. In describing the ceremony of the first hair-cutting, Dr House says: “The ceremonies begin with the priests (monks) chanting in chorus their prayers, seated cross-legged on mats on an elevated platform, a thread of white cotton yarn passing from their hands around the clasped hands of the kneeling child and back to them again, serving as a sort of electric conductor to the child of the benefits their prayers evoke.” Amongst the Lao branch of the Shans, the passing of cotton round the wrists forms the sole marriage ceremony.

In the afternoon we strolled about the old cities, which covered a great extent of ground. Numerous ruins of religious buildings testified to the wealth of the inhabitants in former days. Thousands of costly images, generally of bronze, representing Buddha sitting, standing, and recumbent, from life-size to a few inches in height, lay about in all directions. Some were minus their heads, some had fallen on their faces, some were half buried in the debris, all were without worshippers and utterly neglected. The broken fragments showed that the bronze was a mere shell, for the images were filled with a core of black sand. The walls and gateways of the ancient cities are fast being destroyed by the ravages of the pipal tree, and large trees are now growing in the moats.

On returning from our ramble, we found Dr Tiger waiting to conduct my companions to the Chow Phya, who had now returned. On their return they said arrangements were being made for a great deer-drive the next day, when they hoped to get a big bag of game. The Chow Phya had told them that any settlers at Muang Fang who deserted the place and returned to their old quarters would certainly be put in chains, as they were now part and parcel of Muang Fang.