“Whilst at Muang Phan, I witnessed another phase in the formation of settlements in this country. The chief of Chiengsen (Kiang Hsen) having received permission to establish in his province a number of the inhabitants of Muang Phan, proceeded, in the language of the country, to drive the people into the new colony. However sound may be this policy of migration, it was impossible not to commiserate the unfortunate people who were thus driven from a comfortable home into a bare, uncultivated country, where it would cost them many years of struggle to recover only a portion of their former prosperity. Unable to dispose at so short a notice of their houses, their gardens, and fertile rice-fields, they were compelled to abandon everything that could not be easily transported. I met many of these families, some carrying their children, or perhaps the domestic fowl, in their arms; and some, such few household goods as they were able to remove.
“Muang Phan, as well as the district under Phayao (Penyow) directly to the south, is populous, and appears, indeed, to enjoy greater prosperity than most of the surrounding country. It is well irrigated, and the crops are generally good, while many of the other common necessaries of life are here abundant and cheap. Fish is indeed very plentiful in the extensive lake, or rather marsh, that occupies the centre of the plain, and it forms an important article of export, giving rise to a considerable trade with all the neighbouring States.”
Our proposed railway passes through both Muang Phan (Muang Hpan) and Phayao (Penyow) on its way to Kiang Hsen.
Having erected our tent with the aid of a few bamboos borrowed from the villagers, we sent a messenger to inform the Pau Muang (father of the State), or governor, of our arrival. Soon afterwards he came in and welcomed us, and sat down with us to dinner. He was a powerfully built, grey-haired, massive-headed old gentleman, about 5 feet 10 inches high; and had it not been for his costume and language, might have been taken for a fine old Scotch Highlander.
On receiving notice of our intention to pass through his province, he had set to work collecting transport for us; but only three elephants had as yet been brought in from the district, which, with sixty porters, he hoped would be sufficient to carry us and our baggage. After thanking him for making these arrangements, we said perhaps it would be better that the elephants with us should continue as far as Penyow, in which case we should not require additional means of conveyance. To this our elephant-men were agreeable, and thus a burden was taken off the governor’s mind.
He told us many deserted cities existed in his neighbourhood. Viang Poo Ken lay about half a mile west of our camp; Viang How, on the Meh Hsan; another Viang How, on the Meh Ing; Viang Teung (the city of teak-trees), on the Meng Loi; Viang Hsen Kong; and Viang Lau (Viang Law), on the Meh Ing, three days’ journey above Kiang Khong. He then drew a map on the ground with pieces of bamboo and matches, and explained to us the features and lie of the country.
The next day a Christian, eighty years of age, came to visit Dr M‘Gilvary; and Dr Cushing rambled with me through the villages, and strolled under the shade of noble trees, through splendid park-like scenery, to Viang Poo Ken. This deserted city is about half a mile square, and is divided into three compartments. Its outer rampart was 10 feet high, and its ditches 50 feet wide and 10 feet deep. Another fortress, circular, and 400 feet in diameter, crested the top of the hill. No ruins were found in the city and fortress. Buildings built of wood or bamboos, if vacated in a moist climate like that of the Shan States, rot away in a few years, and leave no trace behind them. Even brick and stone buildings, when deserted, are rapidly destroyed by pipal-trees, and crumbling down, are covered with turf in the course of centuries. Those navvies the ants are ever throwing earth over the masonry records of past generations. These workers are nowhere more numerous, and their work is nowhere more speedily accomplished, than in Indo-China.
We left Muang Hpan in the afternoon, and made a short journey of 4½ miles to the Huay Kok Moo (the stream of the hog pens), where we halted for the night—having crossed several small streams and canals all flowing eastward into the Meh Hang, or into the fisheries through which that stream passes on its way to the Meh Poong. Huay Kok Moo itself, however, flows into a large lake-like marsh which serves as a fishery, and forms one of the principal sources of the Meh Ing. A cutting from the latter fishery into the Meh Poong, which enters the Meh Ing, would shorten the course of the Meh Ing by 30 miles, and save the Penyow plain from inundation, thus enabling a vast tract of country to be cultivated.
The population being sparse in the State, and not even a tenth of the available land having been taken up for agriculture, the people have thrown dams across some of the streams to turn them and the low-lying country into fisheries, into which shoals of plasoi, or young fish, ascend from the Meh Kong. This river commences to rise in April with the melting of the snow, and is in high flood in July or August. When at its highest, it inundates large tracts of country which serve as breeding-grounds for the fish. As the waters subside, the young fish enter the streams, and appear in dense lines fringing the banks on their way up-stream. The dams are partially removed at the close of the fishing season, to allow fresh fish to enter when they come up-stream to breed. Incalculable harm is being done to the drainage of the country by the fisheries, as the upper courses of the dammed streams will in time silt up, when great expense will be required to relieve the water-logged country. Streams should not be bunded until the end of the rains, and all dams should be removed before they commence.
The haze of the atmosphere, aided by the fires occurring amongst the long grass of the plains, had obscured our view since leaving Kiang Hai; and the plain, except where broken by occasional hillocks, seemed interminable on all sides. The soil was rich, and it was evident that only more inhabitants were required to turn the plain into a vast rice-field.