A thousand miles on an elephant in the Shan States

by Holt S. Hallett

We were assured that there would be great difficulty in getting our elephants, as Mr Bryce’s party required ten, and would have to be served first as they had arrived the day before us; that the elephants were a long distance off working in the forests, and could not arrive for three days at the earliest. I replied that every day was of importance to us, that there were many elephants dawdling about the place, and that I saw no necessity for us to be kept waiting. He said that the elephants I had noticed belonged to the foresters, not to the Karens, and could not be hired to us. We then departed without either of the human toads rising from his haunches.

Meanwhile the boys had been rambling about the town making their purchases and bargaining from stall to stall; everything was double, or more than double, the Maulmain price, and hardly anything in the shape of edibles was to be got. Pork had been sold off in the early morning; no cattle had been killed, therefore beef was not to be had; fowls and ducks were not sold at the stalls, but hawked round to the different houses by the Karens who brought them in. Onions, beans, mustard-leaves, and pumpkins were all the vegetables they could procure: these, with eggs, dried fish, and wafer-bread, they had brought back with them. It would have been only tinned meat again for dinner had not Moung Kin come to the rescue and presented us with some fowls. At the same time, he told us that he would have a cow milked, and we should have fresh milk with our tea next day.

Disappointment came with the morning. The cow kicked the milk-pail over, so we got no milk. Seeing how scarce vegetables were in the bazaar, and considering it likely that we should be kept for several days waiting for the elephants, I sowed a crop of mustard and cress, which we reaped and enjoyed before we left. The curator of the Rangoon Public Gardens had kindly given me a large parcel of English vegetable seeds, and another of Liberian coffee, which I distributed at the various places we stopped at, on the promise that the villagers would plant and attend to them; and I trust that future travellers through the country will find cause to thank me. During our stay at Maing Loongyee, which lasted from the 5th to the 13th of February, I gathered information from the foresters about the country; collected vocabularies of the Kamook, Lawa, and other languages; and made a few short excursions. Loogalay thoroughly enjoyed himself, starring about amongst the Burmese in his best plumage, boasting of the great position he held in the expedition, and joining in the festivities that were going on day and night during our stay. Portow was in his element. He set up as an oracle, and was accordingly consulted. He knew, or thought he knew, what I was about, and the why and the wherefore of everything I was doing. I have no doubt that he led the people to look upon me as a powerful magician.

Dr Cushing, who is the greatest living Shan scholar, was accompanying me as interpreter in order to study the different Shan dialects, and was hard at work, when not at meals or out for a stroll, from morning to night.

Although the delay was rasping to me, as I was eager to be off, and Dr Cushing was exasperated at Mr Bryce’s party getting elephants two days before us, we all enjoyed our stay at Maing Loongyee.

One day we visited the remains of the two ancient cities of Yain Sa Lin, situated about a mile to the south-east of the town, and surrounded and divided from each other by moats and ditches. Their area, which is now overgrown by a forest of great trees, is much larger than that of Maing Loongyee, but contains no visible ruins of ancient date. The small pagodas and ruined temples are modern, having been built in recent times by villagers occupying and cultivating part of the enclosure. The cities were situated on a knoll, and the western ramparts have been swept away by the encroachments of the river. The old city, together with 400 Talaings, or Peguans, according to the ‘Lapoon Chronicle,’ were handed over to the Shan chief of Lapoon as a dowry when he married the daughter of Thoo-tha Thoma, the King of Pegu, in A.D. 1289.

Another day we crossed the river, which lies to the west of the town, to visit the earth-hills and take photographs of the country from the platform of a pagoda, which stands out well against the sky. The water was about three feet deep, and the bottom covered with large pebbles, giving a rather insecure foothold. I was carried across perched on the shoulders of two men. Dr Cushing waded the stream, and resumed his nether garments on the other bank. I could not help glancing slily at him as he tottered along, his predicament being so ridiculous for such a grave and learned man, and his action so like that of the pilgrim who had not boiled his peas.

The path over the hills was covered with small rounded gravel washed out of the earth, which rendered it very slippery for shod feet. The hills were crested with large pine-trees, the first we had seen, and their sides were crumbling away in great landslips caused by the small streams, which carried off the rainfall, undermining the friable earth. Some of the spurs we passed along were barely two feet wide at the top, with slopes often nearly sheer descents. Walking along these, and peering at times into the abysses, I suddenly became dizzy, and had to take a man’s hand to help me along until I reached a broader track. On and on we went, trying to reach the pagoda. The hills proved to be maze-like in character; so at last we gave up the attempt, and I took the photographs from another position. I was not sorry when we got back to the house without a mishap.

From the foresters, purposely summoned by Moung Kin to give me the information, I procured the names of thirty-three Lawa villages, forty-six fixed Karen villages, and eleven Shan villages, including the city, in the basin of the Meh Nium, and its branches. The Lawa villages contained on an average forty-two houses; the Karen, twenty houses; and the Shan, thirty-six houses. None of these foresters were working in the valley of the Meh Ngor, so its fixed villages are omitted.

The villages which are occupied by the Karen Yain—the wild or timid Karens—were said to contain as many people as the rest of the villages put together; but as these villages are temporary erections, only occupied for a year or two at a time, no accurate account could be given of them.