The Rev. J. Wilson thus tells of an appeal to the gods in time of drought:
“Many of the people are almost in a panic from the scarcity of rice. A year ago there was very little rain in the first part of the season, but the latter rain was so abundant as to overflow the fields to such a depth as to drown the rice. Consequently, the main crop of the year proved an entire failure. Rice has been and is now very dear, so that many of the poor have great difficulty in obtaining a sufficiency to support life. From the king down to the owner of the smallest patch of ground, all have been earnestly engaged in trying to call down the rain. The king, with his retinue of princes and servants, has ascended the mountain that lies some three miles west of the city to drench with water the pagoda and the principal idols of a temple that stands upon one of the mountain’s peaks. Only a few days ago a procession of one hundred priests climbed the mountain for a similar service. The temples of Buddh, especially on the sacred days, are vocal with the sound of drums and the incantations of the worshipers who have brought their offerings to the idols to buy rain with merit. The execution of some convicts was hastened as a propitiatory sacrifice to the rain-producing powers.”
At another time, when the season had been favorable, the thanksgiving is described by the same hand, as follows:
“The rice-crop this year is a bountiful one, and the people are rejoicing over it. The second king came in from the country on Sabbath morning. He had been out in his fields threshing his rice. Returning, he arranged for the yearly procession that is made at the close of the harvest. The first gong had rung for our religious service just as the procession reached the lower compound. The noise of bells on the elephants and the chanting of the riders, together with the music made by the king’s band, made it necessary for us to delay the ringing of the second gong until after the procession had passed. I had not supposed it was to be so great an affair. A large number of elephants had passed before I began to count, but I counted one hundred and ten as they passed along one by one. I was told there were one hundred and seventy in the procession. One of the largest wore trappings of the brightest silver. The howdahs contained rice. All these were decorated with green branches. The procession was in honor of the guardian spirits that preside over the rice-crop. Those that could see the procession in its whole length considered it the most imposing one that has passed for years.
A LAOS FUNERAL.
“About six weeks—including parts of March and April—are annually given up almost wholly to idolatrous worship, much of which consists in efforts to propitiate spirits. The spirit of the river upon which most of their commerce is carried on is propitiated by a floral offering. Tiny boats are filled with the choicest flowers, carried to the river’s edge, and tapers arranged by which to illuminate the little barks. At a certain hour after dark a signal is given, and simultaneously thousands of these little boats are launched and go sailing down the stream. Aside from its being an act of idolatry, it is a most brilliant and beautiful sight and one that excites our highest admiration.”
In Laos, when a person dies, a precious stone or coin is sometimes placed in the mouth of the corpse to pay the spirit-fine into the next world. Afterward the body is cremated with ceremonies similar to those of Siam. Men are laid with faces downward, and women on their backs, for cremation. When a chief dies, men are hired to engage in a pugilistic encounter in honor of the event.
Merit-Making.