The river Menam, he says, was covered with large and handsome boats, gay with gilding and gorgeous with elaborate carving; among which the heavy barges of the rice-merchants, and the small craft of poor women carrying to market their betel-nuts and bananas, seemed out of place. It is only on such occasions as these that the king, princes, and mandarins display their wealth and pomp. The king, when Mouhot saw him, was proceeding to a pagoda to make his offerings; and was followed by his mandarins, each in a splendid barge, with rowers attired in the brightest colours. In their train came a number of canoes filled with red-coated soldiers. The royal barge was easily distinguished by its throne and canopy, and by the profuseness of its carving and gilding. Some of the royal children sat at the feet of the king, who waved a recognition to every European he saw.
All the vessels lying in the river were dressed out with flags; while every floating house had an altar erected, on which various objects were placed, and aromatic woods burned with pleasant odours. In the court barges the various dignitaries, mostly men of “good round paunch,” lay indolently upon triangular embroidered cushions spread on a kind of dais. They were surrounded by officials, women, and children, either kneeling or lying flat, and holding the golden urns which are used for spittoons, or the golden tea-pots and betel-boxes. Each boat carried from eighty to a hundred rowers, wearing a large white scarf round the loins, and a red langouti, but leaving the head and greater part of the body bare. They lifted their paddles simultaneously, and struck the water in excellent concert; while at the prow stood a slave with an oar to prevent collisions, and another at the stern employed an oar for steering purposes. At intervals the rowers raised “a wild, exulting cry of ‘Ouah! ouah!’” while the voice of the steersman, in a louder and more sustained note, rose above the rest.
MOUHOT’S JOURNEY TO KHAO-KHOC.
From this holiday city, however, M. Mouhot tore himself away, and entered on his lonely and hazardous journey. He soon reached the pure breezy air and picturesque scenery of the mountains of Nophaburi and Phrabat, and ascended the Menam to Saohaïe, the starting-point for all caravans going to Korat. He thence continued his voyage to Khao-Khoc, which has been fortified by the king of Siam as an asylum in case of a European invasion of the south. Here he resided for some months, on the borders of a vast unexplored forest, studying the manners and customs of the Laotians. In February 1861 he arrived at Chaiapune. It was not until he had encountered and conquered obstacles that would have broken the heart of any man less enthusiastic or less courageous that he succeeded in making his way to Korat. As he describes it as “a nest of robbers and assassins, the resort of all the scum of the Laotian and Siamese races,” the rendezvous of “bandits and vagrants escaped from slavery or from prison,” he would hardly have found it a pleasant resting-place; and as soon as he could obtain a supply of elephants for himself and his followers, he resumed his journey, striking, across the country to Poukieau.
“ACROSS COUNTRY.”
Here he ascended gradually a range of mountains abounding in resinous trees and frequented by deer, tigers, elephants, and rhinoceros. This chain extends directly north, continually increasing in height and breadth, and throwing off numerous spurs towards the east, where the deep shadowy valleys collect their waters, and pour them into the Mekong.
THE ELEPHANT “AT HOME.”
Throughout this mountainous region elephants are the only means of transport. Every village, consequently, possesses one of these valuable animals; some no fewer than fifty or a hundred. Otherwise, intercommunication would be impossible for seven months out of the twelve. “The elephant,” says Mouhot, “ought to be seen on these roads, which I can only call devil’s pathways, and are nothing but ravines, ruts two or three feet deep, full of mud; sometimes sliding with his feet close together on the wet clay of the steep slopes, sometimes half-buried in mire,—an instant afterwards mounted on sharp rocks where one would think a Blondin alone could stand; striding across enormous trunks of fallen trees, crushing down the smaller trees and bamboos which oppose his progress, or lying down flat on his stomach, that the cornacs (drivers) may the easier place the saddle on his back; a hundred times a day making his way, without injuring them, between trees where there is barely room to pass; sounding with his trunk the depth of the water in the streams or marshes; constantly kneeling down and rising again, and never making a false step. It is necessary, I repeat, to see him at work like this in his own country, to form any idea of his intelligence, docility, and strength, or how all these wonderful joints of his are adapted to their work—fully to understand that this colossus is no rough specimen of Nature’s handiwork, but a creature of especial amiability and sagacity, designed for the service of man.”
After leaving Korat, Mouhot crossed five considerable rivers—the Menam-Chie, the Menam-Leuye, the Menam-Ouan, the Nam-Pouye, and the Nam-Houn,—all tributaries of the mighty Mekong; and the last-named river he once more reached, at Pak Lay, in lat. 19° 16′ 58″, on June the 24th, 1861. The Mekong here is much broader than the Menam at Bangkok, and dashes through the mountain ravine with the impetuosity of a torrent and the roar of the sea. Its navigation between Pak Lay and Luang Prabang is interrupted by several rapids.