I was assured that the average number of people living in a house was seven; but even allowing only five, there would be upwards of 13,000 people in the fixed villages on my list, and as many more among the wild Karens. Taking into account the fixed villages not on my list, the gross population in the basin of the Meh Nium cannot fall far short of 30,000 souls.
The Siamese deputy, on being questioned on the subject, said that he had no list of the villages or census of the people; but there must be at least 3000 Zimmé Shans, 4000 Lawas, and 5000 fixed Karens, chiefly of the Sgau and Pwo and Sho tribes, in the muang. He could make no guess at the number of the Karen Yain; but they were very numerous. His estimate of the Shans and fixed Karens tallied well with the account given by the foresters; but the Lawas are twice as numerous as he thought they were.
The villages of the Sgau and Sho tribes of Karens are found scattered through the hills far down into the Malay Peninsula. One of their dances resembles the sword-dance of the Highlanders of Scotland, and is thus described by a gentleman who was present at it in a Karen village in the hills behind Petchaburee: Two smooth straight bamboo poles were placed parallel to each other on the ground, about eight feet apart. Across these, and at right angles to them, smaller bamboo sticks are laid—two in a place—so as to form spaces about ten inches wide between each pair of sticks. The musicians take their seats on the ground, by the sides of the parallel poles, and each takes an end of the short cross-sticks in each of his hands. These sticks he first taps together, then shifts them right and left so as to strike those of his neighbours on each side, to make a tapping musical noise, all keeping perfect time together.
The dancers, who are dressed in their most fantastic style, with painted faces, feathers in their turbans, &c., then take their places, and one after another dance into these spaces and along between the parallel poles. As they leap up, the sticks pass under their feet, and they must use their feet so dexterously as not to touch the cross-sticks which are constantly passing to and fro under them. As many as four or five dancers would be leaping up and down, across from end to end, at once, and all keeping perfectly together.
Day after day we tried to inveigle a Lawa into the house, but in vain. At length Moung Kin succeeded in enticing one there who had come with some friends on business to the city. We were elated; we had at last got a real live Lawa—one of the aborigines of the country: what should we get out of him?
He proved to be a tall, good-looking, well-built stripling, aged eighteen, with hair cut in the Siamese fashion and thrown back from his square perpendicular forehead, and eyes with no Mongolian incline about them, but slightly more opened at the inner corners than those of Europeans. He looked painfully shy, and very much ill at ease when he saw the trap he had got into.
I offered him a cigar, which he accepted and nervously twiddled about in his fingers, looking every now and then over his shoulder to see whether any of his companions had followed him, or to calculate the chance for escape. After striking a light for him, I said we were very interested in his people, and wished to learn what we could about their manners and customs, and a few words of their language; and that, if he gave me the information, I would pay him for his trouble, and give him some beads to take to his people.
He grew gradually more composed, but still appeared very uneasy. He said their customs were precisely similar to those of the Shans. Like them, they were now Buddhists, and had monasteries in the larger villages. They called themselves L’wa; water they called ra-own; fire, ngau; man, pree-ra-mee; woman, pa-ra-peum; day, meu-sun-nyit; and night, thom.
He then implored me to let him go, as his friends were waiting for him; and he promised to come again in the evening with a friend, and give us further information. A bird in the hand, particularly such a shy bird as this Lawa, is worth two in the bush; but as he was growing more restless and uneasy every moment, I gave him a rupee and a couple of bead necklaces, and promised him more if he kept his appointment. We then said good-bye, and he hurried off with his presents to join his companions. True to his word, he brought a comrade in the evening, and, being quite at his ease, gave us all the information we required. All our questions were answered in a frank, intelligent manner.
There was nothing very peculiar about their aspect. With complexions slightly darker than the natives of Burmah, their front faces were rather square, remarkable for their high and broad cheek-bones; their side faces seemed flat, owing to the prominence of their perpendicular foreheads; their noses were longer than those of the Burmese; and a line drawn from the top of their foreheads would leave the tips of nose, lips, and chin outside. The under jaws, far from being heavy, were slightly more angular than those of the neighbouring races. The bottom of the ear was about level with that of the nose; and the noses of the race vary greatly from well-formed straight ones, with the nostrils slightly expanding, to perpendicular for half the length, then ordinary pug for the remainder. I was altogether pleasantly disappointed with the race, having from previous accounts expected to see an ill-favoured, ill-shapen, cumbersome-looking people. The Lawa villages are permanent residences, having been occupied by them as far as tradition reaches. Their language has a strong affinity to that of the Kamook, many of the words, such as fish, foot, dog, cry, hand, mother, rice, pony, deer, river, names for other races, &c., being identical. They are, however, in appearance distinct races, and it is not unlikely that the Kamook acquired their present language from the Bau Lawa when the latter were the ruling race in Central and Southern Indo-China, and before the majority of the Lawas lost their own language and acquired that of the Shans.