Chinese Pack-saddle—Side view.
The animals are sagacious and well trained, and come when called. At the time of loading, a saddlecloth is placed on the mule’s back, the saddle with the packs attached is lifted by two men, the animal passes underneath, and the saddle is placed on its back and kept in place by a crupper, and harness embracing the chest and rump. No belly-band is used, and the whole is quickly adjusted. Many small brass bells are placed on the trappings, and the leaders sometimes have a bell shaped out of resonant wood, fitted with a clapper, and hung over their heads. The tinkling of the small bells and the clatter of the large ones enable the men to trace their beasts if they stray during a halt, and give warning of their approach to elephant-drivers, so that they may back the elephants from the path, and thus save them from being scared. The only arms carried by this company of Chinese consisted of a couple of ancient horse-pistols and a large iron trident.
The traders from Yunnan generally proceed viâ Ssumao, Kiang Hung, Muang Long, and Muang Lim—places neighbouring the Meh Kong—to Kiang Hai, whence they find their way viâ Zimmé to Maulmain; viâ Penyow and Peh to Ootaradit, or Tha-It, in Siam; and spread by various routes over the Ping Shan States, to purchase raw cotton to carry back on their return journey. Some of the caravans returning from Maulmain sell their European goods at Kiang Tung, proceeding to it along the route traversed in 1837 by M‘Leod. A few of the caravans coming south likewise use this route, in order to dispose of some of the broad-brimmed straw hats they purchase in Yunnan. These hats are supplied with oilskin covers, and sell at Lakon, according to quality, at three rupees and six rupees each. They likewise bring from Yunnan opium, bee’s-wax, walnuts, brass pots, ox bells, silk piece-goods, silk jackets—some of which are lined with fur—silk trousers, figured cloth, and tea. From Kiang Tung they carry lead, dahs or swords, steel in ingots, lacquer-boxes, tea, and opium.
Noticing that the head-man wore a skull-cap of horsehair worked into a handsome lace, which he had bought for a rupee and a half, I purchased it from him for two rupees. On my showing him some black and white kinds of tailor’s thread, he tried their strength, and said that he had never seen any like them before, and when their virtues were known in Yunnan they would have a good sale, as they were much stronger than ordinary cotton-thread.
After breakfast one of the Christians from Ban Meh Kee, who happened to be in Kiang Hai, hearing of our arrival, came to see Dr M‘Gilvary. He said the land in the Kiang Hsen plain was exceedingly fruitful, and that last season he received a return of fully 250 baskets of paddy for each basket sown.
Learning that the Chow Hona, or second chief, had returned, we went to call on him. On approaching his house we noticed four ladies winding silk in the verandah, one of whom at once went to call him. After welcoming us warmly, he said a wild elephant had just killed a man close to the city. The man’s companions, on seeing the elephant approach, had clambered up trees, and shouted to him to do likewise. He refused, saying the elephant would not hurt him. After the elephant had passed, they again called to the man, and receiving no answer, searched the jungle, and found his remains quite mashed up. The prince said this elephant was so fearless that it was in the habit of crossing the rice-fields close to the city in broad daylight. The Chow Hluang had issued an order against its destruction, as it was of enormous size, and served as a stallion for his female elephants. His feet, as measured from his footprints, were two feet broad; and therefore, as the height of an elephant equals double the circumference of his feet, his height would be 12 feet and 3 inches, or greater than that of any of the King of Siam’s elephants. There is a general belief amongst the Burmese and Shans that the spirits of human beings who have been slain by an elephant ride on the animal’s head, warning him of his approach to pitfalls and hunters, and guiding him to where he may kill people, so as to add to their own company. It is therefore considered hopeless to even fire at one which has destroyed many men. Tracking a wild elephant on foot is always dangerous, as it is liable to return on its path and attack its pursuers.
We had a long chat with the prince about the proposed railway. He appeared to be a very intelligent man, and although gaunt and ungainly in build, with an awkward gait, possessed great strength, and was evidently very active. His temperament was high-strung, and his black bead-like eyes wandered in every direction with a vigilance that nothing could escape. He seemed much interested in the extension of trade with Burmah, Siam, and China, and said the chiefs and people would be delighted if the railway was put in hand. Every help they could give would be gladly rendered; that teak was plentiful in the country, and free permission would certainly be granted to cut it for the sleepers and bridges. As for labour, as many Kamooks as would be required could be hired from Luang Prabang. Their wages for working in the teak-forests were fifty rupees a year and food, and the latter did not cost more than three rupees a month. Gangs of Chinese Shans from the Shan States to the east of Bhamo come every year to work in the Ping Shan States, and could be employed on the railway. Other Shans would doubtless stream in from Yunnan when once it was known that more labour was required, and that good wages would be paid. A great part of the labour in Kiang Tung is carried out by Chinese from Yunnan.
The following day the Chow Hona breakfasted with us. In answer to our inquiries, he said the easiest route from Zimmé to Kiang Hsen was viâ Viang Pow and Muang Fang, crossing the Meh Khoke at Ta Taung, and thence over Loi Kee-o Sa Tai (2650 feet above the sea) to the Meh Chun, and along that river to Ban Meh Kee, where the route joins that which we had taken. A better route we afterwards found would be from Zimmé viâ Muang Ngai; thence up the Meh Pam, and over the Pe Pau Nam (water-parting) into the valley of the Meh Fang. The pass over the water-parting is only 2158 feet above the sea. From Muang Fang this route would follow that indicated by the prince, which was traversed by Mr Archer in 1887. The loop-line could be completed by joining Zimmé with the main line again at Lakon, or, viâ Muang Li, near the mouth of the Meh Wung.
On our returning his call, we found some of the fruit-trees in his garden absolutely laden with women and children picking the fruit, and teeming with laughter and merriment. Dr M‘Gilvary, being very much pleased with the paces of the female elephant I had been riding from Kiang Hsen, had arranged on the journey to purchase it from the mahout, who was its owner, for 500 rupees, and had just learnt that the Chow Hluang, whose serf the owner was, had decided to purchase it for 400 rupees, and that the man dare not say him nay. On his telling the Chow Hona of his disappointment, he said he would at once go and expostulate with the chief about it. It was only right that Dr M‘Gilvary should have the animal, as he had made the first and highest offer, and it was not fair that the man should be robbed of 100 rupees. He asked us to stop, and said he would be back in a few minutes. On his return he told us he had been successful; and that the Chow Hluang, who had not previously heard of Dr M‘Gilvary’s offer, had at once given up his claim. As a mark of his friendship for the Doctor, the Chow Hona insisted upon presenting him with a handsome covered howdah for the elephant, and would not hear of payment being made for it. I noticed many similar instances of friendship on the part of the nobles I met on my journeys towards Dr M‘Gilvary, who seems by his utter unselfishness and frank cordiality, and great tact and kindness, to have won the esteem of the people of the country.