In the morning we called on the governor, who has the title of Chow Hluang, or Great Prince—a pleasant old gentleman, who received us most courteously, and kept us in conversation for about an hour. He told us his Muang was resettled by Lakon, and is a sub-State of that principality. It contained 4820 houses, 300 of which were in the city. Each house on an average contained eight inhabitants: this average would give the Muang a population of 38,560 souls. Paddy, he said, yielded in his district a hundred-fold on well-irrigated land, and eighty-fold on land subject to drought or inundation.
After the chief had recounted the Buddhist legends, previously given, Dr Cushing was so disgusted at seeing him fondling his young son, who was covered with smallpox scabs, that he bade adieu. On passing me, he whispered that there were four cases of smallpox in the family. Dr M‘Gilvary kindly stopped on to the end of the interview, as I wished to learn about the trade-routes and geography of the country.
The Pee, or tutelary god, of the Muang,[[8]] is Chow Kam Doeng, the spirit of an ancient Lawa king who formerly ruled in Penyow: his predecessor is said to have been Phya Choo-ang.
The ancient cities whose names are known, situated in the chief’s jurisdiction, include Viang Tum, Viang Tom, Viang Muang, Viang Heang, Viang Chaum Taung, Viang Poo Lam, and Viang Meh Ta Lat. Besides these, the following lie outside the district: Muang Teung to the west of Loi Mun Moo, between it and the Meh Wung; and Viang Moo Boon and Viang Kyow, two days’ journey to the south-east. The journey over Loi Mun Moo to the Meh Wung, and thence along the valley of the Meh Wung to Lakon, takes eight and a half days; the journey to Zimmé by the Loi Sa-ket pass, takes five days; and the journey to Kiang Khong, on the Meh Ing near its junction with the Meh Kong, is done by elephants in six days.
With reference to the export of rice from Penyow to Lakon, which was suffering from drought, the chief told me that the cost of carriage for an elephant load of 266 lb. over the distance of 71 miles, was 13 rupees and 8 annas, which, at an exchange of 1s. 5d. to the rupee, is equivalent to a charge of 2s. 3d. a ton per mile. As rice is carried by train in Burmah for a halfpenny a ton per mile, the cost of elephant carriage is fifty-four times as expensive. Dried fish taken to Zimmé fetch double the Penyow price.
In Mr Archer’s report, he notes the importance of Penyow as the seat of a large fishing industry, and as a station “on the important route from Chienghai (Kiang Hai) to the southern Lao provinces. This town may well be called the centre of the Lao (Ping Shan) country, for it is situated at an equal distance of six days’ march from nearly all the important places in the five States: Chiengmai (Zimmé), Chiengsen (Kiang Hsen), Nan, Phrë (Peh), and Lakhon (Lakon).”
On returning to our sala, we found Chow Rat, one of the princes of Lakon, who with his attendants was encamped outside the city, had come to pay us a visit. He, like all the princes of the Ping States whom I met, was free from awkwardness and affectation, courteous and well-mannered, and seemed anxious to oblige us by all the means in his power. He was evidently a highly intelligent man, and became much interested in the proposed railroad. After going fully into the matter, he said that the Ping princes would certainly do all in their power to facilitate its construction. Trade was as life-blood to the chiefs and people, and such a line would greatly increase the trade and wealth of the country. I had many talks with Chow Rat before we left for Zimmé, and he gave me a good deal of information about the country.
At the time of our arrival, smallpox had been raging in the city for twelve days, and had caused the death of seventy people. We visited house after house, and the disease seemed to be everywhere. Five and six deaths occurred each day during our stay: the pitiful screaming of the children suffering from the fell disease was heartrending. The deep boom of the chief’s gong, the finest-toned one that I ever heard, sounded nightly at about eleven o’clock, when the bodies were taken from the city for interment.
Our servants and followers were utterly callous of the possibility of contagion—they had most likely all had the disease; and notwithstanding our injunctions to the contrary, ate and slept in infected houses. Had I been aware of the state of the city, I would have camped near the well at the entrance-gate. I have little doubt that Dr Cushing was infected with the disease whilst being shampooed by one of the interpreters, who had been sleeping and taking his meals at a house in which there were two or three cases of the disease.
