The ascent of the so-called mountain, he says, is easily accomplished: after a little time the traveller arrives at a kind of platform excavated in the rock, the surface of which appears formerly to have been carefully levelled with cement. A small brick building attracts the eye; it is erected over the imprint of Buddha’s foot, the gilding and outlines of which are, like the building itself, of very modern date. But we soon discover, in the rock, numerous holes which served as foundations for the columns of the temple; and beyond, some of these columns are still standing. If we follow up the traces of this colonnade, we arrive at an enclosure which was opened of old, perhaps, by a monumental gate; but there are not sufficient vestiges extant to enable us safely to reconstruct this part of the edifice. Within the enclosure, and symmetrically placed on either side of the colonnade, we find two ruined buildings; and in their interior numerous statues and fragments of statues have been carefully preserved by the inhabitants. Continuing our exploration westward, we arrive at length at the foot of the principal monument. This consists of five terraces excavated on the crest of the hill in exact gradation. Their general plan is rectangular, and one recedes behind the other at least thirteen feet. We ascend them by means of staircases constructed in the middle of each side, and guarded by stone lions mounted upon pedestals. At the angle of each terrace, and about thirty feet from each staircase, are raised admirably built little turrets, sixteen feet in height. Each of these sixteen turrets contains a statue.

A MASS OF RUINS.

In the centre of the upper terrace is a platform or base, about three and a quarter feet high, and measuring one hundred feet from north to south by one hundred and three feet from east to west. On this base were raised of old the towers which dominated the neighbouring country. But it is occupied now by a mass of ruins. By carefully examining them, we are able to make out that these towers were three in number, of which the central was the largest, and that they faced the east. The view from the summit of the ruins is truly enchanting. A PICTURESQUE PANORAMA. At our feet extends the verdurous sea of forest, its vague and undefinable murmurs just audible to the attentive ear. In a northerly direction the dense forest-shadows stretch far and far away until lost in the dim horizon; and the eye seeks vainly to discover in its midst the crests of some of the lofty monuments of Ongcor. To the south-east, however, the towers and colonnades of Ongcor-Wat are clearly marked out upon the great open plain; and the few groves of palms and clusters of fruit-trees which surround it give to the landscape an Oriental character of poetry and grace. Westward, a small lake reflects in its glassy surface the surrounding verdure. To the south we catch glimpses, through the warm vapours which veil the horizon, of the Great Lake.

What a fairy-like aspect, from the summit of these towers, must the mountain itself, in the old time, have presented, with its lions, and its turrets, and its staircases of stone descending even to the plain and to the city of Ongcor-Thôm, with its ramparts and its innumerable gilded towers, which the forest now covers with its vast monotonous shroud of verdure!

From the extent of the débris accumulated at the foot of the monument, we may conjecture that formerly a double row of buildings of brick surrounded it; these were probably occupied by a garrison or a numerous military guard. The position of Mount Bakhêng with reference to the neighbouring city made it a kind of Acropolis; and doubtless it was so used from the very foundation of the city. But while Mouhot ascribes the monument which it supports to the very infancy of Cambodian art, the leader of Garnier’s expedition considered it of later date. The fashion of the ornamentation and the style of the architecture seemed to him almost identical with those of other Khmer ruins. Moreover, in his opinion this architecture sprang into existence, so to speak, all at once; was complete in itself; had neither a period of development nor one of decay;—as if it had been introduced from without by a conquering race, which afterwards had been swept away by some sudden catastrophe.]


MOUHOT AT BANGKOK.

After a careful survey of the ruins of Ongcor and Ongcor-Thôm (or “the Great”), M. Mouhot returned to Bangkok, and made preparations to visit the north-eastern provinces of Laos.

While at Bangkok he witnessed a succession of fêtes, of which he records details so interesting, that, by way of digression, we venture to transfer them to these pages.

A ROYAL PROCESSION.