From the Mekong valley M. Mouhot passed into that of the great Siamese river, the Menam, visiting the province of Pechaburi. Thence he returned to Bangkok, and after suitable preparation started on an expedition to the north-east of Laos. His wanderings took him to Phrabat, Saohaïe, Chaiapume, and Korat. Returning to Chaiapume, he struck off in a westerly direction, and visited Poukieau, Monang-Mouna-Wa, Nam-kane, and Luang Prabang, capital of West Laos. At the time of his death he was bound for the provinces south-west of China.
It will form, we think, a useful supplement to the account of the Mekong given in the preceding pages, if we condense M. Mouhot’s narrative of his partial ascent of that great river.
JOURNEY TO UDONG.
We will take up our traveller’s route at Kamput, on the sea-coast, where he had an interview with the king of Cambodia, and obtained carriages to convey him to Udong, the capital. Udong is situated about one hundred and thirty-five miles to the north-east of Kamput, and four miles and a half from an arm of the Mekong which forms the Great Lake. After traversing a marshy plain he and his followers entered a noble forest, and “under green leaves” proceeded to Udong, resting at night in stations provided for the accommodation of travellers. These are about twelve miles apart, and are not only spacious but handsome. The road all the way proved to be in excellent order, and averaged from eighty to one hundred feet in width. A broad track in the middle is reserved for vehicles and elephants, while on either side extends a belt of turf, covered with shrubs, and bounded by the lofty and majestic trees of the forest. On drawing near the capital, M. Mouhot saw that the country exhibited signs of cultivation: fields of rice waved luxuriantly, and the country residences of the Cambodian nobles were surrounded by beautiful gardens. The capital was protected by a large moat, surmounted by a parapet, and enclosed by a palisade ten feet high. There were no sentinels at the gate, however, and M. Mouhot entered unchallenged; nay, more, without let or hindrance passed into the palace-court of the second king of Cambodia.
A CAMBODIAN PALACE.
This distinguished personage soon heard of the stranger’s arrival, and despatched a couple of pages to summon him to his presence. Mouhot would have excused himself on the plea that his luggage had not arrived, and he was not in suitable attire. He was told that the king had no dress at all; and before he could invent a second excuse, the king’s Chamberlain arrived with a more peremptory message. Mouhot, therefore, repaired to the palace, the entrance of which was guarded by a dozen dismounted cannon, and was shown into the audience-chamber, the walls of which were whitened with chalk, and the floor paved with large Chinese tiles. Here, waiting for the king’s appearance, were collected several Siamese pages, from twenty-five to thirty years of age, all dressed alike in a langouti of red silk. MOUHOT AND THE KING. As the king entered every forehead touched the ground. His manner was graceful and self-possessed, and the questions he asked were pertinent and sensible. Was M. Mouhot French or English? What was his business in Cambodia? What did he think of Bangkok? Then, with all the ease of a European sovereign, he held out his hand for Mouhot to kiss; and the latter withdrew, well pleased with the interview.
A BUSY SCENE.
An inspection of the city showed him that it contained a population of about twelve thousand souls; that it consisted in the main of a street one mile in length; and that the houses were built of planks or bamboos. It presents a very lively appearance, however, from the numbers of persons who are drawn to it by considerations of business or pleasure. “Every moment,” says Mouhot, “I met mandarins, either borne in litters or on foot, followed by a crowd of slaves carrying various articles: some, yellow or scarlet parasols, more or less huge according to the rank of the persons; others, boxes with betel. I also encountered horsemen, mounted on pretty, spirited little animals, richly caparisoned and covered with bells, ambling along, while a troop of attendants, covered with dust and sweltering with heat, ran after them. Light carts, drawn by a couple of small oxen, trotting along rapidly and noisily, were here and there to be seen. Occasionally a large elephant passed majestically by. On this side were numerous processions to the pagoda, marching to the sound of music; there, again, was a band of ecclesiastics in single file, seeking alms, draped in their yellow cloaks, and with the holy vessels on their backs.”