One storm deserves accurate description. Up to 4 P.M. of April 12th, the wind had been blowing in fitful cool gusts from the south-west, but at that hour there was a sudden lull; distant thunder was heard echoing among the mountains, and heavy black clouds came rolling up; a few drops of rain gave, as it were, the signal for a discharge of hailstones, or rather flakes of ice. The wind blew in violent gusts, and thunder rumbled over head, but the flashes of lightning were very faint. The hailstones were circular discs about the size of a shilling, flat on one side, and convex on the other. A white nucleus two-eighths of an inch in diameter, and in many cases with a prominent boss of clear ice on the convex side, formed the centre of a pellucid zone surrounded by an opaque one, in its turn encased in clear ice; the inner margin of this external zone was filled with a dark substance, resembling mud combined with delicate ice crystals; the whole disc strongly resembling a glass eye; when fractured, the nucleus separated itself as a small short column, flat at one end, and convex at the other.
During the storm, which lasted for twenty minutes, the aneroid rose from 26·62 to 26·65, and the attached thermometer registered 67°, the maximum heat during the day having been 84°.
It was evident that the season was closed for purposes of engineering survey and exploration, and this, combined with the reduced state of the exchequer, induced the leader of the expedition to address a circular to the members of the party, placing before them the facts, and suggesting that it would be for the interests of the public service that the numbers should be reduced in order to curtail the future expense of transport. It was necessary in fact to lighten the ship, and each was invited to consider how far he could assist in this needful work. Sladen had determined to remain, if necessary, for some months, until the opportunity should arrive to visit Momien, and at all hazards personally communicate with the Panthays; but he felt that he ought to place it in the power of the other members of the expedition to return, especially as the work which some of them had been despatched to effect could not be performed. This circular was sent round on the 17th, and the news of the fall of Mawphoo and the utter defeat of Li-sieh-tai reached us on the 18th of April, and was afterwards fully confirmed by despatches from the Tah-sa-kon, announcing his victory and writing to us to advance under the protection of all the chiefs en route. Our friends the tsawbwa and his pawmines, who had been day by day “making believe,” as children say, to discuss plans for procuring mules, were evidently much influenced by this; but they could not help showing their greed for rupees, and their continual demand was that three hundred should be paid before starting.
It was only later on that we learned that all these Kakhyens, especially Sala, had always been steady adherents of Li-sieh-tai, and that his utter defeat made them thoroughly anxious to conciliate the victorious Panthays.
The tsawbwa presented himself in a very penitent mood, and, confessing all his past misconduct, averred his determination to give up drink and debauchery and do his duty as a chief. Linking his fingers together with an expressive shake, he vowed leal service to his English friends, and then started off in company with his head pawmine on the road to Manwyne, where he expected to meet the Seray chief, and arrange means for our transport.
As if a new order of things had set in, our camp now was daily crowded by Kakhyens, all in the highest good humour. The women of the village came down en masse, bringing presents of fowls, eggs, sheroo, and rice, but the fair ones had an eye to business; beads, looking-glasses, bright new silver coins, and what they seemed most to prize, red cloth, were in great demand. A brisk trade was driven in the various ornaments, and they stripped off their bead necklaces and ratan girdles and leggings with great glee, and even a bell-girdle, the distinctive ornament of Kakhyen aristocracy, which hitherto even rupees had failed to secure, was now acquired in return for red cloth; indeed, it seemed quite possible to purchase a Kakhyen belle, ornaments, and all, for a few yards of the much prized material; and they returned home with great glee, shorn of their decorations, but rich in beads and cloth. Some came to solicit medical aid; cases of severe ulcerations, caused probably by their labour in the jungle, and aggravated by dirt, being common. The gratitude evinced for the relief given was touchingly shown by the presents, deposited with a fearful humility that showed the donor’s belief in the intimate connection between the doctor and the nats. Every day both chiefs and people from the more distant villages flocked in, and none came empty-handed. Gifts of rice, vegetables, tobacco, and sheroo, were brought not merely in the hope of return presents, but evidently as signs of amity. There could be no mistaking their feeling, that strangers who behaved with kindness and justice were welcome. These poor hill people had hardly ever known what it was to be treated with confidence; on either side, Burmese and Chinese had wronged and oppressed them. Monsig. Bigandet states that they had formerly been characterised by a genial kindliness and ready hospitality to strangers, but that the cruel treatment they experienced in Burmese towns, and the fraudulent evasion of payment for their services, had rendered them suspicious, greedy, and treacherous. It is not to be wondered at if the presence among them of strangers of an unknown race, escorted by an armed force, should at first have been regarded by them with fear and dislike, and it is with a modest pride that we recall the kindly confidence in the strangers which had sprung up towards the end of our long detention at Ponsee. The people from the distant villages continually asked, “Why did you not come our way? we should have then had some of the good things that you have brought for the Ponsee people.” The camp was perpetually full; the men, after curiously inspecting the many wonders that presented themselves, chatted and smoked with our followers; and the women, old and young, eagerly petitioned for small hand glasses, and black or green beads, the latter being most valued, and straightway converted their prizes into personal decorations. The young women formed in lines, each clasping her neighbour in a coquettish embrace, their shyness had vanished, they chatted and flirted freely, and did not even flinch from being photographed.
The friendly intercourse with these visitors gave us most welcome opportunities of inquiry into their customs, their national and social life. There was no backwardness in answering any questions, and the record of delays and difficulties may be well interrupted by a few pages devoted to these mountaineers. Those of whom we saw the most were all dwellers to the north of the Tapeng, but some of the visitors came from the southern hills, and the general characteristics distinguish both these and the clans visited by us on the return journey, who seem to be more civilised than their northern congeners. It is right here to acknowledge that the following account of this people has been rendered fuller and more accurate by the use of some notes furnished by Major Sladen from accounts given by natives, and by the use of a valuable memoir on the territories written by the learned and indefatigable missionary, Bishop Bigandet, whose warmest sympathies have been called out for these poor mountaineers, of whom he said, “It is of the utmost importance to know them, their character and habits, and to be prepared to secure their good will, whenever the thought of opening communications with Western China shall have been seriously entertained.”
KAKHYEN MEN.
