A thousand miles on an elephant in the Shan States

by Holt S. Hallett

CHAPTER XXIX.

LEAVE MUANG FANG—MY COMRADES HUNTING—THOSE BOYS AGAIN: PANIC-STRICKEN FISHERWOMEN—WATER-PARTING BETWEEN THE MEH PING AND MEH KONG—RAILWAY FROM ZIMMÉ TO MUANG FANG AND KIANG HSEN—A FREAK OF NATURE—TREE EIGHT FEET BROAD—A DEER-LICK—BED WITHOUT DINNER—ILLNESS OF MISSIONARIES—SITTING ON A SNAKE—HEAD OR TAIL, QUERY—EMIGRANTS CARRYING SPINNING-WHEELS—CROSS THE MEH NGAT—A BEAUTIFUL PLAIN—VIANG POW—VISIT FROM THE GOVERNOR—NGIO RAIDS—LOLO AND KAREN VILLAGES—EFFECT OF MONOPOLIES—PEOPLE DESERTING MUANG FANG—OFFICIALS COLLECTING TAXES FOR MONOPOLISTS—NO GAMBLING AND OPIUM DENS—COST OF CARRIAGE—EXPORT OF RICE—ONE SON-IN-LAW IN ONE HOUSE—TRADE-ROUTES—LEAVE VIANG POW—THE DEFILE OF THE MEH NGAT—ACCIDENT TO ANEROID—A FINE VIEW—AN ARISTOCRATIC GOVERNOR—POPULATION—WILD TEA—LIGHT TAXATION—FREE FROM VICES—PUT UP WITH A SHAN CONVERT—WOMEN WELL TREATED AMONGST THE SHANS—CUTCH-TREES—REACH ZIMMÉ.

We left Muang Fang on May 19, returning to Zimmé by a route five-eighths of a mile longer than that by which we had come. The first night we halted at Ban Meh Kih, where the two routes diverge. A mile beyond the village we commenced skirting the low plateau which intervenes between the Meh Fang and its eastern fork, the Meh Ta Loke. After crossing some low spurs of the plateau, which rises as it proceeds south, we again reached the Meh Fang, and halted on its bank in a valley about a quarter of a mile broad, and near a stream which bore traces of oil upon its waters. The hills about here are of sandstone.

During the morning’s march we passed five laden elephants on their way to Zimmé, and met a caravan of fifty laden cattle. The forest on portions of the plateau was composed of pine-trees. My companions amused themselves on the way by making small detours through the long grass, and started many deer, which, however, they failed to bag. The forest along the route was generally so dense, and the path was so crooked, that angles had to be taken by me every two or three minutes, which is fatiguing work.

The Meh Fang, which we crossed after breakfast, was 60 feet wide and 6 feet deep, with 1 foot of water. Its bed is composed of pebbles coming from sandstone, slate, granite, and quartz formations. The crossing was 61½ miles from Zimmé, and 1954 feet above sea-level. A little farther on we crossed a bend in the river in which a number of men and women were fishing, who, scared at our appearance, scuttled away as fast as they could—the women screaming with terror at the sight of my Madras servants. These boys were always amused at the horror and panic their black faces inspired in the women.

After crossing the bend we left the river, and for the next mile gradually ascended to the summit of the water-parting that separates the affluents of the Meh Fang, which flows into the Meh Kong, from those of the Meh Pam, which joins the Meh Ping below Muang Ngai. The summit of this pass is 59¼ miles from Zimmé, and only 2158 feet above the sea. A railway from Zimmé to Muang Fang, and thence to Kiang Hsen, would certainly be aligned up the valley of the Meh Pam, and over this pass into the basin of the Meh Fang. The rise from the latter river to the crest of the pass is only 204 feet.

In ascending the pass I noticed many palms, resembling small cocoa-nut trees, and seeing that they were in blossom, asked a man to get me some of the flowers, when he refused flatly, saying, “Whoever touched them would certainly suffer from the itch.” The wood of this palm is used in the construction of weaving-looms. The jungle was very dense, with aroids, ferns, and wild plantains scattered through the undergrowth. There are many plants in the jungle that one has to be chary in handling. Some blister the hand, while others are covered with prongs like fish-hooks. When riding, the eyes have to be kept constantly on the look-out, or your head-covering will be carried away and your coat torn into ribbons by these snares for the unwary.

The Shan States afford constant surprises, and one was before us as we looked to the west in descending the pass. Although we had crossed the water-parting, the high range of mountains which we had passed over on our former journey at the Pa Too Pa was still to our right, and we were now at the head of a valley worn out of the plateau formation at the foot of its slope. The range is here called Loi Pa Chan, and is limestone overlying sandstone, the latter rock appearing in the stream that drains the valley. The left side of the valley, from its easy slope, seemed especially made for railway purposes.

At 56 miles, Loi Pa Chan, which for the last 3¼ miles had been frowning down upon us, suddenly ended, and a mile farther we crossed the stream that drains the valley we had been traversing, having fallen only 288 feet in our easy descent from the crest of the pass. We shortly afterwards reached a low spur from the eastern hills, and crossed it to the Huay Pong Pow. We then followed that stream to Pang Pong Pow, and halted for the night. The trunk of a banian-tree not far from the camp was 8 feet in diameter, or more than 25 feet in girth.

The ground near the camp is boggy, with a strong smell of sulphur, the earth greasy and slimy, the strata a black shaly rock. The place is a deer-lick, and the caravans of cattle which passed through the camp early the next morning, taking rice to Muang Fang, so enjoyed licking the puddles that they could hardly be driven from the place. These pools are said formerly to have been a great rendezvous for wild cattle and other animals. Many trees in the neighbourhood of the camp were covered with the beautiful blossoms of the Rangoon creeper, and I noticed the single camellia of Burmah growing wild among the grass.