HUNTING THE TIGER.
About the fauna of this portion of the Mekong valley little need be said, and that little we shall confine to the tiger, which is as strong and ferocious as his celebrated congener of Bengal. Yet a couple of men, with no other weapons than pikes, will frequently sally forth to the attack. When the object of their daring enterprise is discovered, the stronger of the two hunters lowers his pike. Sometimes, if not emboldened by hunger, the tiger refuses the challenge, and bounds into the forest shade; more frequently he charges with a sudden rush, and then, if the force of his leap do not carry him over the head of the hunter, he falls upon the pike, which the hunter raises by pressing the handle on the earth. Immediately his companion rushes forward, and plunges his weapon into the animal’s flank; then the two, by sheer force, pin him to the ground, and hold him there until he dies. If the first man miss his aim, and break his pike, his death is certain; and not seldom his comrade also perishes.
A CIRCLE OF PIKES.
But generally a tiger-hunt brings to the front all the men of the village, together with volunteers from the neighbouring villages. Led by the most experienced among them, they track the animal to his lair, which they proceed to enclose with a circle—each man being posted at a convenient distance, but so as to leave no space unguarded through which the tiger may escape. “Some of the most daring then venture into the centre,” says Mouhot, “and cut away the brushwood, during which operation they are protected by others armed with pikes. The tiger, pressed on all sides, rolls his eyes, licks his paws in a convulsive manner as though preparing for combat; then, with a frightful howl, he makes his spring. Immediately every pike is raised, and the animal falls pierced through and through. Accidents not infrequently happen, and many are often severely hurt; but they have no choice but to wage war against the tigers, which leave them no rest, force the enclosures, and carry off domestic animals and even men, not only from the roads and close vicinity of the houses, but from the interiors of the buildings. In Annam, the fear inspired by the tigers, elephants, and other wild animals, makes the people address them with the greatest respect; they give them the title of ‘grandfather’ or ‘lord,’ fearing that they may be offended, and show resentment by attacking them.” It is a pity that poets and romancists, when enlarging on the joys of a savage life, its freedom from the restraints of civilization, and the opportunities it affords for communion with Nature, omit all reference to its inconveniences,—such, for instance, as the immediate neighbourhood of an elephant or a tiger!
LAKE TOULI-SAP.
After a sojourn of three months among the Stiêns, M. Mouhot returned to Udong by the route which he had previously followed. Of Pnom Penh, he says that it is situated at the confluence of the Mekong with its tributary, which he proposes to name the Mé-Sap. This arm or tributary it is which forms the great Cambodian lake Touli-Sap; an immense sheet of water, upwards of one hundred and twenty miles in length, and four hundred miles in circumference, and as full of motion as a sea. Its shores are low, and covered with half-submerged trees; but in the distance may be seen a magnificent range of mountains, with the clouds resting on their summits.
RUINS OF BUDDHIST TEMPLES.
To the east of the Great Lake lies the province of Ongcor, or Nokhor, in which, and along the banks of the Mekong, lie ruins of immense grandeur, bearing witness to the ancient wealth and populousness of the kingdom of Tsiampois (Cochin-China). To the most remarkable of these monuments, the great temple of Ongcor-Wat, we have already alluded. Its founders are unknown. Ask the Cambodians, and they reply: “It is the work of Pra-Enn, the king of the angels;” or else, “It is the work of giants;” or, “It was built by the leper King;” or, “It made itself.”