Four years in Upper Burma

by W. R. Winston

We now began to make our way over a mountainous ridge, along which an earthen road had been cut out, but not gravelled, and many a rustic bridge erected over the torrents that crossed the track, by the British, about a year before, on purpose for the Chin Expedition, and for subsequent traffic. Some £35,000 we were told had been spent upon it. Some thousands of coolies were brought over from India, and the thing was done without delay. The expedition would have been almost impossible without a road. This serves to give the reader a glimpse of what it means to undertake the pacification and administration of a new country of abundant resources, but without means of communication, and with much raiding and dacoity going on. A road, or still better a railway, always means increased traffic and commerce, better markets for produce, and better means of getting about, and is itself, therefore, a pacifier and civiliser of no mean account; and it soon tends, under British law and insistence on good behaviour, to demonstrate that honesty is the best policy. Good government should always make it pay better to lead an honest, industrious, orderly life, than to pursue a career of robbery and violence—should, in fact, make it hard to do wrong and easy to do right.

This part of our journey was through a hilly and picturesque country, consisting almost entirely of thick natural forest, with many teak and other fine timber trees, and bamboo jungle everywhere. At Thileng we were ninety-eight miles from Pakokku, and close to the Chin Hills. We had here to leave the road, and our cart could go no farther with us, as the hills are very precipitous, and there is only a jungle path. We therefore reduced our baggage to the lowest possible limits of sheer necessity, and had our few things carried the remainder of the journey by a couple of coolies.

We observed that the village of Thileng had some attempts at protection against the Chin raids. At each of the four ends of the village, where the two main roads, placed at right angles, lead out to the jungle, there are log huts erected, where a police guard can be sheltered against their arrows and spears, and the gates are shut at night. The remaining protection consists of a broad hedge of dead thorns heaped all round the village. At this and several villages in the vicinity sad tales were told us of Chin raids, in which Burmans were taken captive, and some of them detained amongst the Chins for many years. The various British expeditions sent up to the Chin tribes, with a view of reducing them to order, have released from time to time a great many of these unfortunate people, and the practice will soon come to an end, if it has not already ceased. This is one example of the ways in which English rule is a great blessing to a country like Burma, in removing such an intolerable burden as this constant dread of these murderous and disastrous raids, and the subsequent miseries of the unfortunate captives. The distance from Thileng to Pinloak, the nearest Chin village, is about sixteen miles, and over as rugged and difficult a path as ever I travelled. About noon we halted, and had our lunch at the bottom of a very lovely gorge, by the side of an icy-cold stream, just the picturesque kind of place that would become a favourite with tourists in England.

At about two o’clock we approached the village, and we halted, under cover of the tall grass, while our Burman guide went forward to announce our approach. Presently they called to us to come forward, and we emerged from the tall grass upon a clearing, on the steep hillside, of several acres. The forest trees and undergrowth had been felled and burnt, and crops of various kinds of grain, cultivated in a rough and ready manner, and a few vegetables, were growing. The people received us in a friendly way, and we went forward and rested in the nearest house, which was of bamboo, something like the houses of the Burmans. We found the Chins in many respects different from the Burmans—far more backward in civilisation. In colour they are about the same complexion, a light brown, but altogether dirty and unwashed. The men wear the merest rag of a garment, the women wear a kind of tunic covering the body, but the legs and thighs and feet are quite bare. The peculiar custom of tattooing the faces of the women, described in [Chapter X.], gives them rather a hideous appearance, and when seen in such a dress, with the face tattooed in that fashion, and with a bamboo pipe stuck in their mouths, smoking, the effect is not the most lady-like imaginable. Still it is only fair to say that the women we saw, despite all these disadvantages, did not strike us as looking particularly unwomanly. Some of the faces, both of the men and women, were of rather a fine cast, notwithstanding their barbarous, unkempt appearance; but the greater part of them wore that degraded appearance which utter ignorance and the many hardships of a savage life generally produce. As I have given many particulars about the manners and customs of the Chins in a former chapter, I need not repeat it. We spent the afternoon fraternising with them in their houses, making purchases of some of their weapons and other articles, which they certainly did not make the mistake of charging too little for, and witnessing their wonderfully accurate shooting with the bow and arrow.

“THE WOMEN AND GIRLS OF THE CHIN TRIBE WEAR A KIND OF TUNIC.”

As evening drew on our Burmese guide advised us to camp out across the river in preference to sleeping in the village. As the best native houses in Burma are apt to harbour much vermin, and as the Chins never think of such a thing as washing their bodies, it may be understood that we were not unwilling to take that advice. Moreover, it was desirable to avoid any complications that might lead to a breach of the peace, for with barbarians it is sometimes a word and a blow, and the blow first. We therefore crossed the river and prepared to camp out in the forest, under a great clump of bamboos, spreading our mats on the sand, and kindling a good fire, for it became very cold as the night advanced, and the dew dropped from the trees almost like rain. Some of the Chins came over and sat with us as we ate our supper, accepting a taste of each article, and testifying their approval, especially of the jam. As one or two of them could talk Burmese we were able to converse with them, and until late at night they stayed listening round our camp fire, as we told them about England and its greatness, and tried to explain, as well as we could make them understand, some of the leading truths of Christianity.

I must not omit to state what it was in us that astonished them most of all. After they had investigated the mystery of the gun, and had fired off a cartridge, and had examined whatever else we had about us that was curious, my companion suggested to me that, as I embodied in my own person a good example of the dentist’s art, it might be well to let them see what the English experts could do in supplementing deficiencies of that nature. I thought it was a good suggestion; so calling their special attention to what I was about to do, I quietly detached the upper set of teeth and held it forth at arm’s length, full in the gaze of the astonished barbarians, and then slipped it back again in a moment, and showed them that I was able to eat with them just as well as they could with theirs. We had expected them to be surprised at this exhibition, but their astonishment exceeded our expectation. Up to that moment my friend, as the proprietor of the gun, and the more affable and engaging gentleman of the two, had been the chief centre of observation and admiration, but after that he had to take the second place. They were greatly amazed. Never had they seen such a thing before. They had no idea it was possible to do it. To make a gun, or any other piece of mechanism, or any manufactured article, was very likely within the power of a highly civilised people. But to be able to detach and take out the whole upper set of teeth, gums, palate and all (apparently), and then to slip them in again, and enjoy the full and perfect use of them!—that far exceeded any notions they had previously formed of what was possible, and they evidently regarded this not as a piece of mechanism, but more in the light of an utterly inexplicable, if not magical, accomplishment.