The women are clad in much the same way, wearing a similar "lungyi" and jacket or the more beautiful "temaine," a skirt of rich figured silk, which is open on one side, exposing the leg up to the knee, to which is added a broad fringe of darker material, which trails upon the ground, giving it a more graceful appearance than the shorter "lungyi." Wooden sandals are worn on the feet, while on their shoulders is thrown a long scarf of delicately-coloured silk. Unlike the men, the women wear no head-dress, but take great pride in their hair, which is always glossy and well dressed, and almost invariably is adorned by a comb or some choice flower. Endowed by Nature with beautiful hands, they love to accentuate the point by a display of jewellery, which, though sometimes worn to excess, is always good, for the Burmese lady would scorn to wear a spurious gem. Pretty fans or handkerchiefs are carried in the hand, while, like a halo surrounding the head, dainty parasols, semi-transparent and hand-painted, shield them from the sun. It is difficult to give any true impression of such a Burmese crowd, in which every conceivable variety of tint and texture is displayed, and permeating which is a sense of universal gaiety and lightness of heart. It is like nothing so much as a beautiful flower-garden, while the people themselves would seem to be as free from care as the butterflies that hover above the blooms.


CHAPTER IV

THE IRRAWADDY

To all countries rivers serve the same purpose as the veins in one's body, being their great source of life and activity. Not only do they drain and fertilize the land, but also afford the readiest and most economical means of transit for its trade; consequently on their banks are found the largest cities and most active commercial life of the country.

This is particularly true of Burma, for, railways still being few in number, the Irrawaddy forms its great highway for traffic, and a large fleet of steamers plies regularly with freight and passengers between Rangoon, Mandalay, and Bhamo, while thousands of native craft of all shapes and sizes assist in the carrying trade of the country.

For a thousand miles the Irrawaddy is alive with traffic, and on its banks have settled the greater proportion of the population of the country, for with the exception of a few isolated towns and settlements, which are surrounded by cultivated areas of limited extent, the whole country away from the river-banks is densely covered by scrub jungle and primeval forest, practically uninhabited and uncultivable. Throughout the length of the river, however, is one long series of towns and villages, whose pagodas and monasteries crown every knoll, and whose population seems largely to live upon the water.

The Irrawaddy is a stream of great size and volume, and, like all rivers subject to periodic flood, is enclosed by high banks of alluvial deposit, between which the river winds its devious way, laden with that rich and fertile mud which, in the course of ages, has formed the delta at its mouth.

In the case of the Irrawaddy this delta is of large extent, and is everywhere intersected by the deep creeks which form the many mouths of the river, thus breaking up the alluvial plain into numerous islands, between which communication is impossible except by means of boats.