"I wonder why this city was deserted," said Jack, as he devoured his venison.

"War, pestilence, or famine," replied his father briefly. "I'll pump this woman and see how the local tradition runs."

He conversed with her for some time, then turned to his son.

"I can begin as I used to begin stories when you were a nipper," said Mr. Haydon. "Once upon a time there was a great king."

"How long ago?" queried Jack.

"Goodness knows," said his father. "Time is a mere blur in these old stories. A hundred, two hundred, five hundred years, all are one to a people who keep no written records. Well, a great king ruled here over a busy and wealthy people. He built this pagoda and was immensely proud of it He delighted to deck it with gold and precious stones. She says that once the whole of the exterior was covered with plates of solid gold, and the Hti, the umbrella, that is the topmost stage of the pagoda, was hung with thousands of golden and silver bells, and decked with huge rubies and other precious stones. Most of these didn't belong to him. For he had a habit of marching upon neighbouring rulers and stripping their treasuries to brighten up his pagoda.

"At last the usual thing happened. A better fighting man came along and stripped him. He and his people fought well, but in the end they were overcome and the whole city was put to the sword. The conqueror had the plates of gold and a vast number of rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. But many of the finest rubies slipped out of his grasp. The priests fled and carried them off. Since that day the city has been a desert. And so you have the legend."

"Is it true, do you think?" asked Jack.

"Substantially true, without a doubt," replied his father. "The thing has happened again and again. It might easily happen to-day in Burmah itself, were it not for the British Raj. These local rulers were forever cutting each other's throats."

At this point the low murmur of his voice became mingled with a louder noise without. The sound of busy Kachin tongues in full flow came through the tiny apertures which lighted the room, and Jack and his father sprang to their feet.