The ascent of the hill as far as the waterfall, which lies about a mile and a half from the foot of the hill, was easy, and from thence onwards the slope became rather steep. The aqueduct takes its water from the Huay Kao just above where the stream plunges over a ledge forming the crest of the fall, and a shelter for many small images that have been placed under it by pious pilgrims. A small temple containing a solitary image of Gaudama has been erected near the head of the fall.
Continuing the ascent along the bank of the torrent, which rushed, glistening and foaming, down its channel of bare granite rock, at eleven o’clock we reached the rest-houses at the foot of the knoll on whose crest the Mya Sapeet chedi, or pagoda of the Emerald Rice-bowl, is erected. The journey from the east end of the bridge had taken us four and a half hours, the distance being a little over eight miles.
Weary with the incessant rolling and jolting we had suffered from our long-legged, cumbersome beasts, we felt relieved from suffering as we stepped off the elephant’s head on to the verandah railing of one of the rest-houses, and threw ourselves down on the floor for a stretch whilst our breakfast was being prepared.
After our meal we ascended a long flight of steps, bordered by fine large pine-trees, to the enclosure containing the religious buildings. The avenue of pines was most likely planted by the Burmese when they built, repaired, or added to the pagoda in 1760. We found an inscription giving this date for the erection of the pagoda on a board in a corner of one of the buildings. The Shan history of Zimmé gives the date of the pagoda as 1790, but this evidently refers only to further additions or repairs.
The enclosure on the summit of the knoll is square, and surrounded by a roofed shed which faces inwards, and has an entrance-gate in the centre of each side. The pagoda is Burmese in design, about 50 feet high, covered with copper plates heavily gilded, and surrounded by a copper-sheathed iron railing. The pedestals at the four corners of the basement of the pagoda are coated with a glass mosaic of various colours, and facing each side of the pagoda is a temple containing an image of Gaudama. The walls and posts of the temples are richly decorated with designs in gold and vermilion. The platform of the enclosure is 1993 feet above the plain, and 3001 feet above mean sea-level. The summit of Loi Soo Tayp appeared to be about 3000 feet higher than the crest of the knoll.
From the entrances facing the plain, on a clear day the view must be magnificent; but at the time of our visit the hills on the other side of the plain were shrouded in haze, and we could only see the country for two or three miles beyond the town. The city and villages were hidden by the foliage, and the whole plain as far as we could see looked one great orchard of palm and fruit-trees, with here and there a narrow slip of rice-plain. Nothing can be more deceptive than travelling through such a country, the great hedges of fruit-trees and clumps of handsome bamboos that fringe the fields continually hiding the extent of the cultivation. In the fringes surrounding the fields, and in the beautiful groves that are scattered about, lie the houses of the villagers, making it simply impossible without a census to arrive, or even make a near guess, at the population.
Seeing one of the Ka-wat, or pagoda slaves, sweeping up some fallen leaves, Dr Cushing asked him to relate the legend of the pagoda, and the origin of its name. In reply, he told us that, long, long ago, a company of Pee, or spirits, brought five of the bowls which are used for begging by the monks, and offered them at the shrine. These were each of different colours—red, yellow, white, blue, and green—cut out of precious gems, and fitted one within the other; the green, or emerald bowl, containing the rest. The pagoda is therefore named “The Pagoda of the Emerald Rice-bowl.” He further assured us that the right name for Loi Soo Tayp was Loi Soo Tee, its name having originated from a white elephant that ascended the mountain, bearing sacred relics, exclaiming as he reached the top, “Soo Tee,” or “the place ends.”
The pagoda slaves are looked upon as outcasts by the remainder of the people, and are either the descendants of pagoda slaves, or have been dedicated to the service of the pagoda by their master on account of the merit accruing to the deed, or have been so dedicated as a punishment for crimes they have committed. Not even a king dare free a pagoda slave; for if he did so, he would after this life infallibly have to descend to the bottom of the most fearful hell. They are not only pagoda slaves and outcasts, but their posterity must remain so during the dispensation of Gaudama Buddha, embracing a period of 5000 years after his death, which is said to have occurred B.C. 543. Pagoda slaves may not be employed in any other work than keeping the shrine in order, and are obliged to present tithes of all they produce for the use and maintenance of the pagoda and its monks. On our return the journey took only three hours and a half, as the elephants went quickly down the hill, and were in a hurry to get home for their evening’s feed.
In the evening I besieged Dr M‘Gilvary, endeavouring to persuade him to accompany us to Kiang Hsen. I assured him that the journey should be no expense to his Mission, either for food or for elephants; that he would be of very great use in collecting information from the people; and that it would be delightful both for Dr Cushing and myself to have his company. He said that he was really unable to go with us on that journey, as his year’s supply of boots were on their way from Bangkok, and the ones he had would fall to pieces before he returned. I replied that I had two pairs of Walkingphast’s boots, which were quite new, and I should be so pleased if he would try them on; that they were spare ones; and that I should certainly not need more than one pair besides those I had in use; that his doing so would be an actual relief to me, as I felt that I was carrying about useless baggage. He was very shy of the offer at first; but I succeeded in talking his wife over, and she managed to persuade him not to disappoint us, and that the trip was exactly what his health required. I shall ever remember this good lady and her husband with pleasure, admiration, and gratitude. They were utterly unselfish in all their thoughts and actions, and quite untiring in heaping kindness upon us.
The following days I strolled about the place, and visited several of the Burmese foresters with Loogalay, who had been having a high time amongst them, but found they knew very little about any part of the country except in the regions where they worked their forests. They all lived in large substantial teak-built houses, and appeared to be well off, if one might judge by the liquors and other refreshments they placed on their table.