A thousand miles on an elephant in the Shan States

by Holt S. Hallett

View of Loi Chan from Kiang Hsen.

The scenery from the bank of the river at Kiang Hsen was magnificent. The great river flowing in its deep channel, partially restricted by sandbanks, was a mile wide, 21 feet below its banks, and unfordable. To the east, about 40 miles distant, a mass of mountains about 30 miles in length, and perhaps forming part of the long winding valley spoken of by Dr M‘Gilvary, showed boldly against the sky; to the north-east, nearer the river, rose the precipitous hills we had previously seen from Pang Mau Pong; and between the mountains and the river, the country appeared to be a vast forest-covered plain, in which low hills were visible at 4 and 20 miles’ distance.

To the south, beyond Lāun Ten (the island of the embankment), a tree-clad island, containing the ruins of many religious buildings, which is said to have been the site of an extensive city, and to have been joined on to the mainland, is the mouth of the Meh Khoke; and beyond it, on the same bank of the river, Loi Meh Yap closes in the view, and separates the valley of the Meh Khoke from that of the Meh Yap.

On our return to the sala, the Chow Phya of Kiang Hai informed us that the Chow Hluang was away on a fishing excursion, and that the Chow Hona, the second chief, was absent at Zimmé. The son of the Chow Hluang and the chief Chow Phya of Kiang Hsen had returned with him to pay us a visit, and see how they might add to our comfort. They said that doubtless the chief would return by the day after the morrow, as although some distance away, he would certainly hasten back as soon as the messengers they had already despatched reached him.

View of hills east of the Meh Kong river.

The son of the chief was sorry his father was not there to welcome us, and still more so that, owing to smallpox raging in his own family, he was himself unable to offer us hospitality. He thought we would be more comfortable in the court-house, which was a new and capacious building; but on visiting it with him, we found it in an unfinished condition, and only partially floored, so determined to remain in our smaller but more cosy quarters.

Seeing the Chow Phya covered with ringworm, I gave him some Goa powder, and told him how to apply it. I afterwards learnt that it worked a perfect cure, for the Chow Phya showed his gratitude by writing to Dr M‘Gilvary, and forwarding me a copy of the history of Kiang Hsen, which I had expressed a wish to obtain. The work, however, proved to be valueless, except as a curiosity. Mrs M‘Gilvary, who kindly offered to translate it for me, finding it utterly unreliable—indeed, merely an olio of Buddhist legends and improbable events—soon threw the manuscript aside, considering it useless to waste further time upon it.

After breakfast we rambled through the city, about half of which was covered with the remains of fifty-three temples, and of monasteries and pagodas in their grounds. The seeds of the pipal tree, Ficus religiosa, had been dropped by birds into the interstices of the brick masonry of the pagodas, and grown into large trees. The roots of the trees, after shattering the masonry, had prevented it from falling, by clasping it in their strangling embrace. Splendid bronze images of Gaudama, generally in a good state of preservation, were scattered about in every direction, and often half buried in the débris of the fallen buildings.