Still passing northward, we reached the bank of the ’Nmaikha, the main branch of the Irrawaddy, which, starting from a source still unascertained, joins the Mali-kha some thirty miles above Myitkyina. We camped at ’Nsentaru Ferry, forbidden to cross, as the enclave between the two rivers is unadministered territory. A scene of savage beauty, with hills on every side, the distant peaks on the Chinese border white with snow. We rambled upstream and along the bank of the ’Nmaikha, farther than any of our officers had yet penetrated.[240] Returning to camp at midday, we bathed in the ice-cold water of the river, fresh from the snowy hills.
From ’Nsentaru we marched through Kwitu and across the Irrawaddy to Myitkyina, then the headquarters of a subdivision. It was but a small village, with very humble public buildings, well placed on a high bank of the river, whose waters flowed clear as crystal. Now it is the terminus of the railway, a flourishing town, with many Indian settlers, the resort of fishermen who catch mahseer of ever-increasing weight. We rode to the confluence where the ’Nmaikha and Mali-kha join to form the Irrawaddy, more than a thousand miles from the sea; a very picturesque spot, with the mountain-streams rushing and tumbling over rocks and boulders. We returned on rafts, and were privileged to shoot the rapids which impede the navigation of the river above Myitkyina. They are not much to boast of as rapids, but the raftsmen made a fat fuss, shouting and hustling as we toiled through the eddies.
From Myitkyina we rode inland to Mogaung, a singularly unpleasant town, important as a trading centre. In the regions north-west of Mogaung comes almost all the jade yet discovered; the rest is found in Turkestan. Though lovely and ornamental, jade is not classed as a precious stone, and has little vogue in Europe except for hilts of daggers in ladies’ novels. Chinese merchants have a practical monopoly, and most of the stone goes to China, where it is properly appreciated by a nation of artistic taste. The right of levying ad valorem duty on all jade brought to Mogaung is farmed out by Government. As the value of a piece of jade in the rough cannot be determined accurately, the business of dealing and of farming is distinctly speculative. The value is revealed by cutting; the duty is paid on uncut stones. The farmer assesses the duty on any piece of stone brought in. The owner has the option of either paying the duty or selling it to the farmer at the farmer’s valuation. This plan insures fair dealing on both sides. But there is always the attractive element of chance. Except for the jade business and some historic associations, Mogaung was a dull and uninteresting place. Our objective was the lovely lake of Indawgyi, which I was not to see till nearly twenty years after.[241]
Sudden news came of a Kachin rising on the eastern frontier. The escort of a civil officer had been attacked, and had suffered some loss. The border might be ablaze. The Deputy Commissioner must hasten to the spot; nor could the Commissioner remain unconcerned. We rode to Sinbo next day, covering nearly fifty miles on one pony apiece, carrying no kit and taking no attendants, our rations in our saddle-bags. At Sinbo we found a launch and all necessary comforts provided by Mr. George’s forethought. Next day, as soon as the morning mist had lifted, the launch started, and in two minutes was fast on a sandbank. Not all the labours of the villagers, who turned out en masse, availed to move it a foot. Resolved to reach Bhamo that day, we took a small boat and began the passage of the Defile. It was plain paddling with the stream, but parlous slow, and hot and cramped. When we were about half-way through, our luck changed. We met a Government launch, which we boarded and turned about. So at sundown we landed at Bhamo. Half an hour later the launch abandoned at Sinbo also arrived.
Next morning we set out for the frontier. Riding most of the day and night, stumbling after dark on narrow ridges[242] between rice-fields, at about midnight we came into camp, not without some slight risk of being shot by a zealous sentry. All escorts within range having been bidden by telegraph and signal to combine, quite a considerable force of military police and a dozen British officers were assembled. It was as if the Deputy Commissioner, fulfilling Pompey’s thrasonical boast, had stamped upon the ground and raised legions. This sudden show of strength, coupled with Mr. George’s tact and management, speedily restored peace. Leaving him to distribute rewards and penalties, I rode back with a tin of bully beef for sustenance, and a couple of sowars as escort. On the way I slept at the Kachin village of Pônkan, where I was hospitably entertained by the Duwa, who not many years before had literally held Bhamo in terror. He was a tall and handsome savage, but somewhat given to drink. At Bhamo I spent the next hundred hours in making up six weeks’ arrears of office-work. Then I took a day’s rest.
This was my best tour. But all the travelling in the Northern Division was full of interest. Mogôk and the Ruby Mines provided an agreeable interlude. Katha, a pestilential district in the rains, was perfect marching ground in the dry season. Wuntho, but lately brought into line, was revisited, and Piulebu, on the bank of the Mu River, once the Sawbwa’s strong place of refuge, inspected. With me rode my old friend Maung Aung Zan,[243] now subdivisional officer. Though of the girth regarded as suitable for a high official, and weighing, as he told me, 45 viss,[244] Aung Zan found a pony to carry him. His local knowledge was invaluable. We came to Mansi, at the end of the Banmauk road, which breaks off so abruptly that one feels as if another step would take one over the world’s edge into the abyss. Here was some excitement, the police post being threatened by a jungle fire rapidly nearing the wooden stockade. In these remote parts the people, of Shan race, were primitive folk of simple and engaging manners. Extremely poor, they earned a scanty livelihood in the forests, or by fishing, or by laborious cultivation of miscellaneous crops. Here, as elsewhere, courtesy and hospitality abounded. At the entrance of every village the headman and villagers came out to welcome us, the girls dressed in their simple best, bearing offerings of water and flowers. Inspecting a Court on this tour, I was refreshed by finding a case in which trial by ordeal for witchcraft was the main incident. The suspected witch was tied up in the fearless old fashion, and thrown into a stream. As she sank, and was with difficulty rescued, her innocence was made clear. The cause of action in the judicial case was her claim for damages for defamation. She was awarded £4 and costs.
The Commissionership of the Northern Division was probably the most interesting office in Burma. Mandalay itself always seemed to me a goodly place wherein to live. ’Tis true that for a couple of months or so the heat is great; but though the thermometer rises to 110° or more, the climate is dry, and yet we do not seem to have the excessive, suffocating heat, day and night, of the plains of Northern India. Again, every æsthetic and artistic taste is gratified. Never to be forgotten are the battlements of the walls, the purple shadows on the eastern hills, the glowing sunsets on the moat, the splendour of moonlight in the Palace corridors. The frontier work was absorbing, and occasionally exciting; the ordinary executive work enough to occupy one’s time without being unduly exacting. Of the touring I have already tried to create an impression. Just across the road, too, so to speak, was the new hill-station of May-my̆o, then coming into notice. The railway to Lashio, in the Northern Shan States, was being made, and had not yet reached May-my̆o; but it was easy to get up for a week-end. A drive of fourteen miles along the Aungbinle-bund to Tônbo, then a ride of thirty miles, with a change of ponies at Pyintha; with an early start, May-my̆o was reached in time for breakfast. We rode up by the railway road to the Zibingyi plateau, a craggy path sometimes rendered hazardous by showers of boulders rained down after blasting operations on the line above. Thence part of the route was over the plateau, through pleasant jungle-tracks, part along the embankment, where the rails were not yet laid. Returning by the same way, we got back to Mandalay by office-hours on Monday. May-my̆o was still in bud, perhaps even more delightful than in its fuller bloom. Sweet were the rides through bracken and underwood, with the chance of losing one’s way and a possible thrill of meeting a bear. And cheerful the gatherings at the Club, the trivial social pleasures in which all took part. Mandalay itself was a large military station, where good-fellowship has always reigned.
It was therefore with regret that, early in 1894, I received Sir Alexander Mackenzie’s summons to Rangoon to act as Chief Secretary for Mr. Symes, on furlough. At the time I was acting as Judicial Commissioner in a temporary vacancy caused by Mr. Burgess’s absence on privilege leave. As was our custom in those days, I obeyed the order without remonstrance.