The Boy Travellers in the Far East
PART SECOND
ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY
TO
SIAM AND JAVA
WITH DESCRIPTIONS OF COCHIN-CHINA, CAMBODIA, SUMATRA AND THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO
BY
THOMAS W. KNOX
AUTHOR OF "CAMP-FIRE AND COTTON-FIELD" "OVERLAND THROUGH ASIA" "UNDERGROUND" "JOHN" ETC.
Illustrated
NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE
1882
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1880, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
PREFACE
The favorable reception accorded to "The Boy Travellers in Japan and China" has led to the preparation of the present book.
Frank and Fred have continued their journey under the guidance of Doctor Bronson, and the plan of their travels and observation is identical with the one they followed through the Celestial Empire and the Land of the Mikado. The incidents in the narrative were mainly the experiences of the author at a recent date; and the descriptions of countries, cities, temples, people, manners, and customs are nearly all from his personal observations and notes. He has endeavored to give a faithful account of Siam, Java, and the adjacent countries as they appear to-day, and trusts that the only fiction of the book is in the names of the individuals who tell the story.
In a few instances the narrative has been slightly interrupted, in order to introduce matters of general interest to young readers. The details of the progress of naval architecture and the accounts of submarine operations, together with the wonderful adventures of Marco Polo, may be classed as digressions. It is hoped they will meet the same welcome that was accorded to the episode of a whaling voyage in the first record of the travels of Frank and Fred.
The publishers have kindly allowed the use of some illustrations that have already appeared in their publications relative to the Far East, in addition to those specially prepared for this volume. The author has consulted the works of previous travellers in the East to supplement his own information, and to some of them he is under obligations. Especially is he indebted to Mr. Frank Vincent, Jr., author of that excellent and well-known book, "The Land of the White Elephant," not only for details respecting Cambodia and adjacent regions, but for some of the admirable engravings that adorn his volume. Other authorities are credited with the text of their work or in foot-notes to the pages where quotations are made.
The author is not aware that any book describing Siam, Java, Cochin China, Cambodia, and the Malay Archipelago, and especially addressed to the young, has yet appeared. Consequently he hopes that this volume will meet with as warm a welcome as was given to "The Boy Travellers in Japan and China," by adult as well as juvenile members of many families throughout the United States.
T. W. K.
CONTENTS.
| [CHAPTER I.] | Departure from Hong-kong. |
| [CHAPTER II.] | Voyage to Saigon.—Arrival in Cochin China. |
| [CHAPTER III.] | Historical and Descriptive.—First Sights and Scenes in Anam. |
| [CHAPTER IV.] | A Wonderful Temple.—Ruins of Nagkon Wat and Angkor. |
| [CHAPTER V.] | Cambodia.—Its Capital and King. |
| [CHAPTER VI.] | Departure from Saigon.—Visiting a Chinese Junk. |
| [CHAPTER VII.] | The Wonderful Story of Marco Polo. |
| [CHAPTER VIII.] | Arrival in Siam.—First Day in Bangkok. |
| [CHAPTER IX.] | Temples at Bangkok.—The Founder of Buddhism. |
| [CHAPTER X.] | Ascending the Menam, from Bangkok to Ayuthia. |
| [CHAPTER XI.] | Visiting the Prince of the Elephants.—Ayuthia.—Something about Crocodiles. |
| [CHAPTER XII.] | Stories of Elephant-hunting.—Scenes of the Chase. |
| [CHAPTER XIII.] | Bang-pa-in to Bangkok.—Studies in Natural History and Botany. |
| [CHAPTER XIV.] | The King in his State Barge.—Betel and Tobacco. |
| [CHAPTER XV.] | Women, Hair-cutting, and Slavery. |
| [CHAPTER XVI.] | Cremation in Siam.—Trade, Taxes, and Birds. |
| [CHAPTER XVII.] | Presentation to the King.—Dinner at the Palace. |
| [CHAPTER XVIII.] | The White Elephant.—Visit to the Second King of Siam. |
| [CHAPTER XIX.] | Leaving Siam.—Life under the Ocean Wave. |
| [CHAPTER XX.] | Light under Water.—Pearl-fishing and Turtle-hunting. |
| [CHAPTER XXI.] | Incidents of a Sea-voyage.—Singapore. |
| [CHAPTER XXII.] | Sights and Scenes in Singapore. |
| [CHAPTER XXIII.] | Crossing the Equator.—Adventure with Malay Pirates. |
| [CHAPTER XXIV.] | Sumatra and its Peculiarities.—Snakes and Orang-outangs. |
| [CHAPTER XXV.] | Arrival in Java.—Sights and Scenes in Batavia. |
| [CHAPTER XXVI.] | Batavia to Buitenzorg.—Tropical Scenes.—Birds of Paradise. |
| [CHAPTER XXVII.] | A Chapter on Political Economy.—The Dutch Culture System in Java. |
| [CHAPTER XXVIII.] | Rice Culture in Java.—Military and Social Matters. |
| [CHAPTER XXIX.] | A Post Ride in Java.—From Buitenzorg to Bandong. |
| [CHAPTER XXX.] | Visiting a Tea Plantation.—Preparation of Tea. |
| [CHAPTER XXXI.] | Eastern Java, Lombock, Timor, and the Aru Islands. |
| [CHAPTER XXXII.] | Wanderings in the Malay Archipelago.—Good-bye. |
ILLUSTRATIONS
Map to accompany "The Boy Travellers of the far East"
THE BOY TRAVELLERS
IN
THE FAR EAST.
[CHAPTER I.]
DEPARTURE FROM HONG-KONG.
"There she comes!" shouted Frank Bassett, as he pointed away to the eastward.
Doctor Bronson and his nephew Fred were standing close beside Frank, and their eyes eagerly followed the direction of his hand.
"Yes, there she is!" Fred responded; "what a splendid sight!"
They were on the lookout platform on Victoria Peak, 1800 feet above the harbor of Hong-kong. The city, the island, the surrounding waters, and the neighboring coast of China all lay before them like a map. They had been studying the scene, and the Doctor had explained to the boys its remarkable resemblance to the view from the summit of the Rock of Gibraltar.
HONG-KONG, FROM KELLET'S ISLAND.
Their geographical observations were interrupted by the announcement of the sergeant in charge of the signal-station that the Pacific Mail steamer City of Peking was just outside the harbor, and would shortly enter through the Ly-ee-moon Pass. Hong-kong harbor has two entrances; the one to the eastward is known as the Ly-ee-moon, while that to the west is called the Lama Passage. Both are easy of navigation, and admit ships of the largest class to one of the finest harbors in the world.
The great steamer ploughed steadily forward; and as she passed Kellet's Island, which is a fortified rock near the Ly-ee-moon, she turned gracefully, and headed straight for her anchorage. Our friends watched her till she came to her resting-place, and her engines had ceased working; then they said good-bye to the signal-station, and proceeded to the sedan-chairs which were waiting for them. The chair-coolies had also seen the steamer, and, as they were anxious to reach the city before the passengers could come ashore, they made the best possible time on their way down the mountain. They ran rather than walked, and two or three times the boys narrowly escaped a fall in the sudden bends of the zigzag road.
The adventures of Doctor Bronson, Frank Bassett, and Fred Bronson, and their reasons for being in Hong-kong, have been narrated in a previous volume.[1]
They expected the City of Peking to bring letters that would determine their future movements. Is it any wonder they were in a hurry to have her mails landed, and the precious letters delivered?
Their letters were addressed in care of the banking-house on which their credits were drawn, and very naturally the boys were eager to go at once to that establishment. The Doctor suggested that it would be quite time enough to go there after lunch; and, as the appetites of the trio had been sharpened by the excursion up the mountain, the proposal met no opposition whatever.
The meal was served in the dining-room of the hotel, and as soon as it was ended the party walked leisurely to the banking-house. In a little while their letters were handed to them, and greatly rejoiced were the boys at the arrival of these precious missives from home. The return to the hotel was a rapid one on the part of the youths, who left the good Doctor far behind, in their eagerness to be once more in their rooms, where they could be safe from interruption while they read the messages from their friends.
The letters were full of good news.
MARY AND EFFIE READING FRANK'S LETTER.
The parents of both the boys expressed their delight at the good use which Frank and Fred had made of their time, and the interesting accounts they had given of their experiences in Japan and China, and their voyage over the Pacific Ocean. Mary and Miss Effie had received the presents which Frank bought for them in Japan, and Mary confessed in her letter that since the arrival of the precious box they had thought and talked of nothing else. They had dressed themselves in Japanese garments, and Miss Effie was sure that, if their eyes were properly sloped at the corners, they could readily pass for residents of Tokio or Kioto.
The Doctor reached the hotel while they were in the midst of their reading. His package of letters was quite as large as that of either of the boys, and among them there was a very portly letter, which had required a liberal amount of stamps to pay for its transportation. This he opened first, and, after perusing it carefully, he smiled, and laid it aside. Evidently the contents were pleasing.
Frank and Fred were through with their letters about the same time, and as soon as they were at liberty they began comparing notes. Both were a good deal disappointed, as they had received no indication of their future course. Would they go directly back across the Pacific Ocean, or would they proceed on a journey around the world? Perhaps the Doctor could tell them; but just then he was occupied, and they did not wish to disturb him.
There was a rap at the door, followed by the entrance of a servant bringing a letter, which had been overlooked at the banker's. It was for Mr. Frank Bassett; and that young gentleman was not long in breaking the seal and possessing himself of its contents.
His air of melancholy changed to one of delight. He threw his arms around Fred, and made a start in the direction of the Doctor, as if intending to favor him with an embrace, but speedily checked himself, and confined his demonstrations to a quiet leap over a chair that stood in the middle of the room; then he held out the letter for Fred to read.
Fred's delight at the intelligence conveyed in the document was quite equal to Frank's. The question was settled; they were to continue on their journey around the world. The necessary letters of credit would be sent in care of Doctor Bronson, and should be in the mail brought by the City of Peking.
Frank saw the large letter on the table in front of the Doctor, and at once divined that it was the important missive containing papers similar to the one with which he was provided before he left home. There was yet a goodly amount remaining on his letter of credit, but not enough to carry him to America by way of Europe. Fred was in a similar predicament, and therefore a permission to go forward would be of no great use if unaccompanied by the necessary cash or its equivalent.
Doctor Bronson relieved their doubt by handing them the letters of credit which had come in the bulky parcel in question. They were considered too valuable to be intrusted to the ordinary mail, and therefore they had been "registered." And from their experience with the Post-office in China and other Eastern countries, our three friends were unanimously of the opinion that all valuable letters going there should be sent by registered post. The Japanese postal service was the most perfect one they found in their travels, and the Doctor declared that some of our officials at home might learn what would be to their advantage if they would visit the post-office at Yokohama and see how admirably it was conducted.
"Well, boys," said Dr. Bronson, "it's all settled."
The boys had a moment of standing on tiptoe in their exuberant delight, and then Frank asked,
"Where are we to go, Doctor, and when are we to start?"
"That is what we must determine now," was the reply. "We have several routes open to us, and each has its advantages."
"I think," answered Frank, "that we could not do better than leave the selection of the route to Doctor Bronson. He has proved such an excellent guide and friend thus far, that we have the most implicit confidence in his judgment, and are quite willing to adopt his suggestions without question."
This was said as if Frank had been addressing himself to his cousin rather than the Doctor. Fred instantly accepted the proposal, and it was promptly agreed that the whole matter should be left in Doctor Bronson's hands to arrange. The latter thanked the youths for the expression of their confidence in him, and then proceeded to designate on the map the routes leading westward from Hong-kong.
"The regular mail steamers," said he, "go from here to Singapore, which you see is down close to the equator, and at the entrance of the Straits of Malacca. The English steamers go directly there without stopping; but the French ones touch at Saigon, in Cochin China, which is a colony of the French Government."
"I have thought out a plan," he continued, "while we have been waiting, and what I propose is this:
"We will go from here to Saigon by one of the French ships, and then make a stay in Cochin China long enough to see what we wish of the country. Then we can find a trading-ship of some kind to take us to Siam, and once there, we shall have no trouble in getting to Singapore, as there is a regular line between that city and Bangkok, the capital of Siam. There is much to be seen in Siam, as well as in Cochin China; and I think this route will be far preferable to the direct one by the mail steamers, though it will not be so comfortable. We must be prepared to "rough it" a little both on shore and at sea, but our privations will be more than compensated by the abundance of interesting sights on the way."
The boys agreed at once to the proposal, and the conversation came to an end. The Doctor went to arrange for the proposed journey, and the youths brought out their writing materials, and devoted the rest of the afternoon to the preparation of letters in answer to those they had just received.
ARRIVAL OF THE FRENCH MAIL STEAMER.
The French steamer arrived from Shanghai in the evening, and her great hull loomed majestically in the light of the full-moon as she came to anchor. It is a condition of the contracts for the transportation of the mails, that a steamer is not to lie more than twenty-four hours at any of the stopping-places along the route unless detained by unforeseen accidents. Consequently, when one of these ships arrives, it is pretty certain that her departure will occur within the time above specified; and it was shortly announced that the ship in question would leave at noon the next day. The mail service between Europe and the Far East is performed almost as regularly as that across the Atlantic, and the arrivals at the various points can be guessed with tolerable accuracy. The English and French steamers perform each a fortnightly service both ways, and, as they run alternately, the residents of China and Japan have weekly mail-days for sending and receiving their letters.
Doctor Bronson engaged passage for the party by the French steamer as far as Saigon, and then went to the office of the "Yuen Fat Hong" to ascertain if there was a vessel for Bangkok by way of Cochin China.
In the last few years the Chinese merchants have gone somewhat extensively into the business of running steamships. There is a company with a capital of two million dollars that owns several lines of steamers along the coast and on the great river of China, the Yang-tse-kiang, and its officers and stockholders are all of them Chinese. There are several smaller companies, and there are Chinese commission-houses that act as agents for English and other steamers in the Eastern trade. The Yuen Fat Hong was one of these commission-houses, and it managed the business of a line of English ships running between Hong-kong and Bangkok, with an occasional call at Saigon.
PRIVATE PARLOR OF THE "YUEN FAT HONG."
Doctor Bronson found the office without any difficulty, and was shown into a neatly-arranged parlor, where four well-dressed Chinese were sitting. Three of them were holding fans in their hands, while the fourth was indulging in the luxury of a pipe. Plants in pots stood near the walls, and there was a table in the centre of the room, where the oldest and most serious of the Oriental gentlemen was seated. Evidently it was a time of relief from labor, and so there was no delay in attending to the inquiries of the Doctor.
The information he obtained was entirely satisfactory. The house was to send a ship in a week or ten days to Bangkok by way of Saigon; it would stop two or three days in the latter port, and if the party would be satisfied with the limited accommodations, they could secure passage from there to Siam.
It was secured at once, and then the Doctor returned to the hotel.
A CHINESE BOATWOMAN.
The next morning the boys were up early; and long before the hour fixed for their departure from the hotel they had all their baggage in readiness. The trunks and valises were delivered to the porters and carried to the landing-place, whence they were to be transported in a small boat to the great steamer that lay smoking in the harbor. The boat that the party engaged was a reminder of Canton, as it was occupied by an entire family; two or three children were quietly seated in a sort of box at the stern, and the crew consisted of two women and a man. One of the women was evidently captain; at least Frank thought so, when he observed her air of authority in giving directions for the movement of the boat. The harbor service of Hong-kong is nearly all performed by Chinese from the famous boat-population of Canton; they are not forbidden to live on shore as they are at Canton, but from long habit, and also from motives of economy, they continue to make their homes on the boats.
While on the way to the ship, Fred made a sketch of the younger of the two women, and declared his intention was rather light in complexion for an inhabitant of Southern China; her hair was covered by a thick kerchief, tied in a knot under her chin, and her jacket or blouse was buttoned in front, and hung loosely down like a silk wrapper. As soon as she discovered that she was the subject of a sketch she put on her sweetest smile, and was evidently proud of the honor that Fred was showing her.
Less than an hour after they reached the ship they were under way for Saigon.
Our friends spent the afternoon on deck, where they had plenty of occupation watching the irregular line of the coast, and observing the play of light and shade on the water. There were but few passengers, so that they had an abundance of room; the weather was delightful, and both Frank and Fred declared that none of their travel by sea up to that time had been more agreeable. They abandoned all ideas of being sea-sick; and when the bell called them to dinner they were promptly in their places at table.
Suddenly Fred turned to his cousin and asked if he was aware that China was the worst country in the world for wheeled vehicles.
Frank said he knew the Celestial Empire was very badly off for means of locomotion, but he was not certain that it was the most unfortunate in this respect.
"It is a great country," said Fred, "and has an enormous population: we are going to Saigon, which is the capital of Cochin China."
"Well," replied Frank, "what has that to do with the matter of wheeled vehicles?"
"Don't you see?" responded Fred, "there is only one coach in China!"
"That is a very good conundrum," remarked the Doctor, who had been listening to the dialogue between the boys; "but it is as old as it is good. I heard it when I first came to China, years ago."
Fred confessed that he found the conundrum in question in a book on China which he had picked up in Hong-kong, and thereupon it was agreed that no more jokes should be made until they were again on shore.
At an early hour the boys retired to their rooms, and it did not require a long time for them to fall asleep. Fred made no report of any unusual occurrence during his sleeping hours, but it was otherwise with Frank. In the morning he intimated that the letters from home had set him to dreaming, and that all his relatives and friends had congratulated him on his pleasant and prosperous journey. Fred asked if any one had been more profuse in congratulations than any one else, and the young dreamer admitted that such was the case. He mentioned no names, but the Doctor and Fred had no difficulty in determining who that one was.
FRANK'S DREAM.
[CHAPTER II.]
VOYAGE TO SAIGON.—ARRIVAL IN COCHIN CHINA.
The voyage from Hong-kong to Saigon was neither long nor unpleasant. The weather was fine, and the wind favored the progress of the steamer. The Doctor explained that the north-east monsoon was blowing at that season of the year, and it was to be relied on with such certainty that the steamship companies arranged their time-tables with reference to it. The boys had heard something about the monsoons before this, and Fred determined that he would study the subject sufficiently to have a clear understanding of it. So he questioned the Doctor, and examined all the books he could find that had anything to say about the monsoons, and when he thought his information was complete he proceeded to put it on paper.
HURRICANE DURING THE CHANGE OF THE MONSOON.
Here is Fred's essay on the winds of the Eastern seas:
"The word 'monsoon' comes from the Arabic musim, which means 'season,' and the winds are so called because they blow in alternate seasons, first in one direction and then in the other. On the coast of China the wind is from the south-west from April to October, and is then called the south-west monsoon; for the other half of the year it blows from the north-east, and is then called the north-east monsoon. There is generally a period of about two weeks when the winds are irregular at each change from one monsoon to the other, and at this time the ship-masters are very fearful of severe storms, with heavy rain and much thunder and lightning.
A FAVORING MONSOON.
"The monsoon winds are known all over the Eastern seas, from the coast of China to the shores of Arabia. Their periods of blowing are so well understood that the steamship captains know exactly when they may be expected, and their voyages are arranged accordingly. On the printed time-tables of all the steamship companies you will find 'monsoon allowances;' and on the coast of India there are certain ports where the ships cannot touch at all when the monsoon is unfavorable. The Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company allows four days for its ships between Suez and Shanghai when the monsoon is against them, and one day on the voyage between Hong-kong and Yokohama. The French mail steamers have the same allowances. In August, when the south-west wind is blowing, a steamer goes from Hong-kong to Yokohama in seven days; but in April, when the wind is the other way, she is allowed eight days for the voyage.
"The monsoons are caused just like all other winds—by the heated air rising and cold air rushing in to fill its place. In summer, when the sun is over Asia and the ground becomes heated to a high degree, the air rises, and the cooler air from the south comes to fill up the space. This makes the south-west monsoon; and when the seasons change, and it becomes summer in the southern hemisphere and winter in the northern, then the air goes the other way, and the wind blows from the north-east. This is the north-east monsoon.
RUNNING BEFORE THE TRADE-WIND.
"The monsoons should not be mistaken for the trade-winds which blow in the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, and also in the southern part of the Indian Ocean. The monsoons change every half year, as I have explained, but the trade-winds blow regularly all the year round in the same direction. They are caused by the warm air rising from the vicinity of the equator, owing to the great heat, and the cool air rushing in from the south and from the north. The trade-winds have been so named because they have been of great assistance to commerce; sailing-ships can calculate their voyages with great accuracy by means of these winds, and I have read and heard of ships in the trade-winds that sailed for twenty or thirty days without moving a rope or altering the position of a sail. They went along ten or twelve miles an hour, and the sailors had nothing to do but lie around the deck or in the forecastle, and amuse themselves in any way they liked."
Fred read his production to the Doctor and Frank as they sat on deck, the second day of the voyage from Hong-kong. Frank wanted a copy, but took the precaution to ask the Doctor if it was all correct. The latter said it was entirely, so far as he knew, but it did not tell the whole story. Thereupon Frank set at work to find something additional, and in the course of an hour or so he offered the following post-script to the essay of his cousin:
"In studying about the trade-winds and the monsoons, I find that they do not blow directly north or directly south, as we might suppose they would if they came in to fill up the vacancy caused by the rising of the heated air. North of the equator the trade-winds blow from the north-east, and south of it they are from the south-east. The inclination to the east is caused by the rotary motion of the earth from east to west. The earth slips from under the wind while turning on its axis, and it is really the earth that makes the slope of the wind, and not the wind itself. Something like it may be seen when a boat crosses a river. The boatman may try to pull straight across, but if he does so the current carries him down, and he is unable to land opposite his starting-point. The only way he can do so is by going obliquely against the stream.
"The monsoons get their direction in the same way as the trade-winds get theirs; with this difference, that the south-west monsoon starts near the equator, and not in the southern hemisphere, like the south-east trade-wind. The rotary motion of the earth is greater at the equator than it is in the northern latitudes, and so the wind gets a westerly inclination instead of an easterly one, as in the case of the trade-wind. Some of the scientific men say that the north-east monsoon is not a monsoon at all, but only the north-east trade-wind taking its regular course, which has been disturbed by the more powerful wind from the south-west."
"Very good," remarked the Doctor, when Frank read what he had written. "I am a little fearful, however, that it will not be understood by everybody, and so we will drop the dry subject and think of something easier."
The boys admitted that the topic was a dry one, but nevertheless it was interesting; and they thought they would not be doing their duty in their journey if they failed to comprehend the great winds that so materially help or hinder the movements of ships in Asiatic waters.
On their third day from Hong-kong the boys heard with delight that land was visible. At first it was like a dark cloud on the horizon; but, as they approached it, the scene changed, and the cloud was resolved into a tropical shore, backed by a line of hills in the distance. The steamer headed for a little promontory, and by-and-by a light-house was revealed that marked the entrance of the river which they were to ascend.
A boat came out from the mouth of the river, and a pilot boarded the steamer. He was a weather-beaten Frenchman, who had lived more than twenty years in Cochin China, and was thoroughly familiar with the channel of the river, or rather of its various channels. The Mekong empties into the China Sea, very much as the Mississippi discharges into the Gulf of Mexico; it has several mouths, and the whole lower part of its course is divided into canals and bayous, that are very convenient for the natives in the matter of local navigation.
Saigon, the destination of the steamer and of our friends, is on one of these lower branches of the Mekong, about thirty miles from the sea. The river is not more than five or six hundred feet wide, and the channel is very crooked. The boys were reminded of their trip up the Peiho, from Taku to Tien-Tsin, when they were on their way to Peking, but they voted that the present voyage was the more agreeable of the two, inasmuch as the steamer did not follow the example of their ship on the Peiho, by occasionally running her nose into the bank. Their progress was steady but slow, and they had plenty of time to study the scenery of the new country they were entering.
RICE-FIELDS ON THE MEKONG.
On both banks of the river the land is quite flat, and they were told that, in times of unusual freshets, it was overflowed for long distances. For this reason, it is not very thickly populated, although the soil is rich, and could be made to produce abundantly. All along the banks there was a thick fringe of mangrove-trees, and sometimes they appeared to extend over many square miles of land. Here and there were rice-fields that appeared to have the most careful cultivation; and sometimes a village, with its temple rising above the modest dwellings of the inhabitants, was revealed to the eyes of the young wanderers.
The number of the villages increased; and by-and-by a larger collection of houses than they had yet seen was visible. This was the last village before Saigon, and finally the city itself came into view. The steamer stopped in front of it, and hardly was her anchor down before she was surrounded by a crowd of native boats. Some of them were exactly of the model of those at Hong-kong and Canton, and others were new to the eyes of our friends. A great many Chinese have come here from Canton, and brought their manners and customs with them; and they have also brought their boats, or caused the construction of some exactly similar to those they left behind.
As soon as convenient the Doctor engaged a boat for the party, and the three travellers went on shore. There are several hotels at Saigon not far from the landing-place, and it was not long before the strangers were comfortably quartered—at least comfortably for Cochin China. After their experiences at Peking and other places, they were not inclined to be fastidious about their lodgings.
A NATIVE WOMAN.
As soon as they had arranged matters at the hotel, the party went out for a stroll. They found Saigon was well laid out, with broad streets that ran straight as sunbeams for long distances. Most of them were macadamized, and shaded with double rows of trees, and they had deep gutters to carry off the heavy rains that fall in this latitude. The boys were greatly interested in observing the hats worn by the natives; those of the men were conical in shape, and came down over the shoulders like an extinguisher over a candle. The women wore hats that resembled baskets, about six inches deep by not less than two feet across. The hats for both men and women are made of leaves, closely plaited together, and serve to keep off the rain as well as the sun. The hat of the man is particularly useful as an umbrella, as the wearer need only bring it down over his head to make his shelter very nearly complete. When walking on the road, he must keep it well tilted up in front in order to enable him to see his way.
As they walked along, the Doctor explained that the most of the people they met were not the original inhabitants of the country. Saigon was a small fishing-village in 1861, when it was captured by the French and occupied as a military post. The captors determined to make it a city of consequence, and the French government has expended a great deal of money in this endeavor. They have constructed roads and streets on the same scale that the English have adopted at Shanghai, and they have built dock-yards where ships can be repaired. They have maintained a large garrison of soldiers, and several times have been called on to suppress insurrections that cost a great deal of money and blood.
"Now," said the Doctor, "when the French established themselves here, they opened the port for anybody to come and live in Saigon, as they wanted to build up its trade as fast as possible. A great many Chinese came here from Canton and Singapore, and the result was that the place grew very rapidly. The Chinese came much faster than the emigrants from France and other European countries, and also faster than the natives of Cochin China from other parts of the conquered provinces. Consequently, here is a French city with a foreign population greater than the native one, and greater than that from France itself.
STREET IN THE CHINESE QUARTER.
"Nearly all the business of Saigon is in the hands of the Chinese," the Doctor continued, "and they have managed to drive out most of the foreigners who were established here. They can live so much more cheaply, and transact business for a smaller profit, that the foreigner cannot compete with them. The number of foreign houses in Saigon is diminishing every year, and it looks as though the Chinese would have it pretty nearly all to themselves by the end of another ten years."
They found some parts of Saigon so much Chinese in character that they seemed to be carried back to Canton or Shanghai. Chinese signs abounded; Chinese shops were open, and the men doing business both behind and before the counters were Chinese. Chinese eyes were upon them, and frequently Chinese peddlers approached them with articles for sale. Chinese were at worship in the temples, walking, talking, trading, and pursuing their ordinary avocations, and for every foreigner the boys encountered they met a hundred inhabitants of the Flowery Kingdom.
The roads were dry and dusty, and after a walk of a couple of hours our friends returned to the hotel. Late in the afternoon they went out again to hear one of the military bands play, and to see the people on their daily promenade. The band plays at a stand on the street parallel to the river, and everybody who can come out to see and be seen is sure to be there.
Frank found the crowd so variegated that he suggested to Fred that it was like looking through a kaleidoscope. There were Frenchmen, Germans, Englishmen, Spaniards, and Portuguese among the foreigners; while the Asiatics included Chinese, Anamese, Cambodians, Malays, Siamese, and a variety of other nationalities the boys were unable to determine. In fact, they would not have been able to recognize all the people mentioned above if it had not been for the assistance of the Doctor, who was skilled in the study of faces and the sound of languages. Fred thought that the confusion of tongues was enough to give one a faint idea of what the Tower of Babel must have been at the time the builders suspended work.
PLANTS IN THE BOTANICAL GARDEN.
They finished their explorations of the day with a visit to the botanical garden, just as the sun was sinking in the west. The garden contains a good variety of the tropical plants peculiar to the country, and also some that the French have imported, with a view to distributing them through the province in case the cultivation should prove advantageous. There are also some wild animals carefully kept in cages, with the exception of the elephants, which have no greater restriction than being fastened with chains. The most interesting of these animals, in the eyes of the boys, were some tigers which came from the upper regions of the Mekong River, and were larger than any they had ever seen in America.
A NEW ACQUAINTANCE.
The evening was devoted to a study of the geography and history of the country they were in, and before the boys went to bed they had a pretty clear idea of Cochin China and the regions that surround it. In the morning they complained of numerous visits from the mosquitoes that abound in Saigon the entire year, and are as attentive as the mosquitoes of the United States or any other country.
A MOSQUITO OF SAIGON.
[CHAPTER III.]
HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE.—FIRST SIGHTS AND SCENES IN ANAM.
The boys made a division of labor in looking up information about the country. Frank was to find what he could concerning its natural features and extent, while Fred undertook to learn something about the French occupation, and the reasons that led to it. When they were ready, the essays were read to the Doctor for his approval or rejection; and there was a brief discussion to determine who should be first to read, or rather last, as each preferred not to be the beginner. The Doctor settled the question by deciding that the natural features of the country existed before the French came there, and, therefore, it was the duty of Frank to open the subject.
Thus assured, Frank produced his note-book, and read:
"The countries of Birmah, Siam, and Anam are known to geographers as 'Indo-China,' for the reason that they lie between India and China, and have some of the characteristics of both. The empire of Anam is the one we are now considering, and we will leave the others until we get to them in the course of our travels. It is erroneously called Cochin China, from a province of that name which is included in the empire. The proper divisions of Anam are Cambodia, Tonquin, Tsiampa, and Cochin China, and more than three-fourths of its boundaries are washed by the sea. It is about nine hundred miles long, and its width varies a great deal, owing to the indentations of the coast. Cochin China proper is only some ninety miles long by twenty broad, and it is really the smallest of the provinces. Cambodia is the largest and most populous, and the soil is said to be more productive than that of the other parts of the empire. The number of inhabitants is not known, but it is generally thought to be from twelve to fifteen millions.
NATIVE GENTLEMAN AT SAIGON.
"The people resemble the Malays and Chinese, and are sometimes called the connecting link between the two. They are smaller than the Chinese, but not so dark as the Malays; their dress resembles the Chinese, but they do not shave their heads as the latter do. They are not very ingenious, and have comparatively few manufactures; their chief employments are in agriculture, and they raise a great deal of rice, which is exported to China and other countries. They also export sugar, raw silk, cinnamon, dye-stuff, elephants' hides and bones, together with a good many gums and spices. The dye known as gamboge comes from Cambodia, and the name of the country is said to be derived from this article. On the coast the people engage in fishing, and all through the country the food of the people consists of fish and rice. The natives will eat a great deal when they have the opportunity, but they are able to live on a very small allowance of food when necessity compels them. Buddhism is the prevailing religion, but they are not very earnest in it; they have great respect for the dead, and resemble the Chinese in their veneration for their ancestors.
"The country near the coast is generally flat, but farther inland it becomes mountainous. There are tribes in the interior that are more than half savage in their character; they live mostly on wild fruits, and are widely scattered. Some sleep in the trees, and some build small huts, but they rarely have permanent villages, and never get together in great numbers. Sometimes the Cambodians make war on these hill-tribes, and those that they capture are sold as slaves.
"The principal river is the Mekong, and it is one of the largest streams in South-eastern Asia. It rises in China, and has a general course of about one thousand seven hundred miles to the south, and it falls into the sea by several mouths between the ninth and tenth degrees of north latitude. There are many villages and towns along its banks, and in its lower course the river is navigable for the largest ships."
Frank paused, and said that was all he had been able to obtain about Anam, but he hoped to have more by-and-by. The Doctor pronounced his essay an excellent one, as it gave a good general description of the country, and contained the information that every traveller and reader ought to have.
Now it was Fred's turn to read. He had been uneasily twisting his note-book between his fingers, evidently dreading the ordeal of delivery; but as soon as he was through with the first line, his embarrassment vanished, and his voice was as firm as ever.
"Nearly a hundred years ago," said Fred, "France opened relations with Anam, and arranged to give the latter country certain assistance against its enemies in return for commercial and missionary privileges. It was about the time of the famous French Revolution. Only a small part of the promised assistance was given by France, and she was too busy with affairs at home to demand all that had been agreed upon on the part of Anam. The French missionaries were protected in the exercise of their religious duties, and a small trade was carried on until about the year 1831. The old king died, and a new one went on the throne; he was opposed to the French and Spanish missionaries, and endeavored to drive them out of the country. Many of them were killed, and the native Christians were persecuted, so that Christianity threatened to disappear.
"Things went on in this way for twenty years. In 1851 the French determined to interfere, both for the protection of the missionaries and to demand the concessions that were promised when relations were first opened with Anam. Shortly before they came, an order had been issued that all missionaries should be drowned in the river, and any native who concealed, or in any way assisted a missionary, was to be cut in two. The war was a slow one, and the invaders were several times held back by fortifications that had been built by the French engineers who came here in 1795. The persecutions were partially stopped, and in 1857 the French went away.
"New orders against the missionaries were then issued, and more of them were killed. In August, 1858, there was a combined French and Spanish expedition against Anam, which captured the chief seaport and several important places. The war was kept up till 1862, when there was a treaty of peace. This treaty compelled Anam to pay five million dollars to France as compensation for the war, and to promise that every native should be free to adopt any religion that he liked. The missionaries were not to be disturbed, and the principal cities were to be open to French merchants to trade in whatever they chose to buy and sell. A French Protectorate was established over the province of Cochin China, and afterwards over other provinces, and—"
VIEW OF THE FRENCH QUARTER OF SAIGON.
"Stop a moment," said the Doctor; "you had better explain what a protectorate is."
Fred was evidently prepared for the question, as he answered promptly,
"A protector is one who defends or shields from injury. In government matters a protector is a person who has the care of a kingdom during the minority or illness of the king; or it may mean a cardinal or other high official who looks after the interests of a religious body. A protectorate is a government by a protector, or it may be the authority assumed by a superior power over a weaker or a dependent one.
"The case of France and Anam is that the treaty provided that the French should take the management of the affairs of the conquered country, and that the governor-general they sent here should be really the highest officer in the land. The Anamese can do nothing in the way of making and enforcing laws without the consent of the French; in fact, they are exactly in the condition of a colony, and the country where we now are is called the French Colony of Eastern Asia."
"Quite right," said the Doctor, when Fred had concluded. "Now we will hear what the French have done in the way of colonization."
"They have followed their old policy of making no interference with the local laws, except with such as had a character of oppression or cruelty. They required the native authorities to swear to be loyal to France, and when they did so they sustained them until there were complaints that they did not manage affairs properly. In such cases they have investigated the complaints, and done what they thought right in the matter, either by removing or sustaining the official. They have lowered the taxes and established regulations regarding civil marriages, and, on the whole, their presence has been a benefit to the people of Anam. In the matter of marriages they have followed the rule that they long ago adopted in Algeria; a native may be married under the native laws if he likes, and can divorce his wife at a moment's notice, and without giving any reason; but if he marries her in a French court, he is under French laws, and must abide by them. A great many of the natives of the better class insist upon having their daughters married in the French courts, as they know they will be better treated than under the old system.
"Several times there have been insurrections against the French, and some of them have cost a great deal of money and fighting. But they have always resulted in victories for the French, and in the addition of new provinces to the territory under their control. At present they have a protectorate over more than half of the peninsula; some of the smaller provinces in the North are nominally independent, while in some portions of the country held by the French the natives do very little more for the foreign government than pay a small tax to it every year.
"The population of the country under the French protectorate is said to be not far from four millions. There is an army of ten or twelve thousand men, of whom nearly if not quite half are natives. The natives are said to make good soldiers, particularly in the artillery. A great part of the garrison duty in the forts on the coast and in the interior is performed by the native troops, and they are said to get along very well with the French. In Cambodia many of the soldiers are from Manilla, as they are considered more warlike, and besides the king says it is cheaper to hire them from other countries than to use his own people. The army of Cambodia is smaller in proportion than that of the other parts of the country, and the French allow the king to do pretty much as he likes."
Fred had reached the end of his chapter, and consequently came to a pause. The Doctor complimented him on his excellent account of the invasion and occupation of Anam, and after a little general talk on the subject, the party broke up.
NATIVE SOLDIERS AT SAIGON.
As they were naturally interested in the subject of native troops in the French service, Frank took the first opportunity to make a sketch of a couple of them that he saw on duty. He found that they wore a blue blouse with white trousers—or, rather, that the trousers had been white at some former date—and their heads were protected from the heat of the sun by flat hats made of pith or cork, while their feet were bare. The men that he saw were armed with breech-loading rifles of French manufacture, and they carried their cartridges at the waist-belt, after the European fashion.
Strolling by the river-bank, the boys saw three or four light gun-boats at anchor in the stream. They learned that the government had about twenty of these boats, which were used for transporting troops wherever they were needed, and also for the purpose of protecting the natives against pirates, and to enforce the laws generally.
They observed that the police were not of the same nationality as the soldiers, and found, on inquiry, that the policemen were all Malays from Singapore, under the supervision of French chiefs. They are said to be very efficient, and one great advantage of employing them is that they are not likely to be involved in any of the native conspiracies.
By the end of their second day in Saigon, it occurred to the boys that it was about time to begin a letter to friends at home.
"We will write it as we did the letters from Kioto and Hong kong," said Frank; "that is, provided you are willing."
Fred assented to the proposal, and so it was agreed that they would make up a single letter, in which each should describe some of the things they had seen, and they would so arrange it that nothing should be described twice. They devoted all the time they could spare from sight-seeing to the production of this letter, and here is the result:
"We have been walking and riding around Saigon, and have seen a great many things that are new to us. This morning we started early for a walk to Cholon, about three miles away, and had a very pleasant time on the road. We met crowds of people coming to town with basketsful of fresh vegetables for the market; they were nearly all women, and their dress was much like that of the women we saw in Canton, except that they had great hats like circular trays. Part of the way the road follows the bank of a ditch, which the French call 'The Grand Canal;' but there is not much grandeur about it, as it is half-choked with weeds, and when the tide is out there is not water enough to float a boat of any size. There has been no rain for weeks, and the dust was so thick that sometimes we could hardly see across the road, and were in danger of being run over.
THE KING OF THE BEGGARS.
"Near the door of a house, in the edge of the city, we saw three beggars standing, while a man with his finger raised was talking to them. Doctor Bronson says the man who talked was their chief; and he was telling them what to do and where to go for the day. Begging is a regular business in China, and the beggars have their associations, like other trades.
"We met a long line of carts just after we got outside the city; each cart was drawn by a pair of bullocks, and they had ropes through their noses, just as we put them through the noses of bulls at home. The foremost pair was led by a boy, and all the other bullocks were fastened to the carts immediately in front of them. How they get on without pulling some of their noses out, when a cart in the middle of the line breaks down, we cannot imagine. Perhaps the cord gives way before the nose does.
"There were lots of half-wild dogs that seemed to belong to nobody; they barked at us, and some of them threatened to bite; but we showed tight, and they concluded to leave us. These brutes are known as 'pariah' dogs all through the East: 'pariah,' as applied to a man, means an outcast; and a pariah dog is a dog that has no master and no home. They are not so abundant here as at Constantinople or Damascus, but Doctor Bronson says there are quite enough of them to go around, and they go around all night and all day.
"Such a noise as the cart-wheels made you never heard in all your lives. Grease must be scarce in Cochin China, or the people must be fond of music; at all events, they do not try to stop the squeaking, and a native will go to sleep in one of these carts when it is moving along the road, just as calmly as he would in a Pullman car. Doctor Bronson says that these carts are loaded with gamboge and other dye-stuffs, and also with hides and horns of cattle, and perhaps with the tusks of elephants that have been killed for the sake of their ivory.
"About half-way along the road, we came to what the French call 'La Plaine des Tombeaux,' which is nothing more nor less than an enormous cemetery. It is said to cover several square miles of ground; whether it does so or not we cannot say, but certainly it is very large, and, as the Doctor remarked, very densely inhabited. There is nothing very remarkable about the tombs, as they are nothing but square enclosures, with little spires like those of the temples. In one part of the cemetery some priests were at work laying out a place for a grave; Doctor Bronson says that they perform a lot of ceremonies to determine where a grave shall be made, and are very particular to bring it under good influences, and shield it from bad ones. The same superstitions that prevail in China are to be found here; and even the most intelligent of the native or Chinese merchants in Saigon would not think of undertaking any important enterprise without first consulting the gods, and ascertaining that the 'Fung Shuey' was in their favor.
"It was an odd sight to see the telegraph-poles along the road, and skirting the edge of this ancient cemetery. It was bringing the past and the present close together, and from all we can see the present is having the best of it.
VIEW OF CHOLON.
"Well, we reached Cholon after a leisurely walk, and went down to the bank of the river, where great numbers of boats were moored. There were hundreds, and perhaps thousands of these boats, and at the place where they are moored they are tied very close together. They are rather long and narrow, and the best of them have a roof over the centre to protect the occupants from the sun and rain. Some of them are hewn out of single logs, and others are built of planks, as in other countries. Many are permanently fastened to the bank and are occupied as houses, like some of the boats in Canton; and altogether there is a pretty large water population. Near the water's edge there are huts built on platforms, and so arranged that the refuse of the kitchen falls into the river. The owner is under no expense for drainage, and the whole cost of his building does not exceed five dollars. Living is cheap in Cholon, if you are willing to occupy a grass-roofed hut, six feet square, on the bank of the river, and eat nothing more costly than boiled rice and fish. We saw two or three huts of the kind we describe, occupied by half a dozen persons each. They must have found the quarters rather close at times, but probably did not mind a trifle like that. A single plank served as the roadway to the shore, and in some instances it was so shaky that it required a steady head and careful stepping to avoid being thrown into the water.
A CHINESE FAMILY AT CHOLON.
"More than half the people we saw were Chinese, and not the natives of the country, and nearly all the business in the shops appeared to be done by the former. We peeped into some of the houses where the Chinese live, and they did not seem to care how much we looked at them. We saw one group that was quite interesting, in spite of the poverty of the habitation and the scarcity of furniture; there were five persons in all, or perhaps we should say eight, as there were three cats under the table that acted as though they were as good as anybody else. Two men and two children were at a table, and a woman was standing up behind them to see that everything was all right. On the table there was a small tub that contained stewed fish and some kind of vegetables, and there was a bowl for each one to eat from. They were better off than some other parties we saw at breakfast, who had only one bowl for the whole lot, and everybody helped himself with his chop-sticks.
A CAB FOR TWO.
"We saw something that reminded us of Shanghai; it was nothing more nor less than a wheelbarrow, but, unlike the Shanghai one, it had no passengers. Wouldn't it be funny to see a wheelbarrow in America for carrying passengers, just as we have cabs and coaches? You must come to China for a sight like that, and also for a regular ride in a wheelbarrow, and you can have the consolation of knowing that it is very cheap and also very uncomfortable. The wheelbarrow has no springs, and so you get the benefit of every jolt, however small; and as the vehicle is somewhat weak in the joints, and the man who pushes it is far from powerful, you feel all the time as though you were liable to be spilled out. The wheel is large and clumsy, and the frame has a sort of rest in the centre, where you can put your arms. Two men can occupy one of these coaches, and they are very popular among the natives, but less so among the foreigners.
"On our way back we wandered off into the forest of tropical plants that stood on each side of the road in many places, and suddenly came on a little village which was entirely concealed until we were within twenty yards of it. The natives like to hide their residences as much as they can, on account of the shade they get from the surrounding trees, and also to be undisturbed by too many visitors. The dogs barked at us, and if it had not been for some of the natives that called them off it is quite possible we should have been bitten. There were half a dozen children lying around in the dust, and as they were entirely naked, they did not seem to be afraid of soiling their clothes. The men and women were not heavily clothed, as the weather is hot, and they want to be as comfortable as possible. In one house a man was lying on a bench just inside the wide door-way, and a little girl was fanning him; the Doctor says the girl was undoubtedly a slave, and that she cost her owner not far from thirty dollars.
"Children are bought and sold here the same as in China, and a good many of the foreigners are said to own slaves while they live in the country, but they do not try to carry them away. Slaves prefer foreign masters to native ones, as they are more likely to be kindly treated, and to receive their freedom in a few years.
"Some of the houses in the village were well built, and raised a yard or so from the ground upon pillars of brick. The interior consists of three or four rooms, and the general appearance of the house is like a Chinese one. There is an ornamental framework carved in wood to support the roof, which is covered with thick tiles, and there is generally a veranda on each side of the door, where the master sleeps in the afternoon and lounges away a great deal of his time. We should call the people lazy if they were in America; but it is the custom of the country to be indolent, and perhaps they are not to blame. Very little will support a man, as he can gather fruit from the trees, and an acre of ground is all that he needs for maintaining a large family. The heat that prevails all the year round does not encourage activity, and a good many foreigners, who are very enterprising when they first come here, become as idle as the natives by the end of their second year in the country."
[CHAPTER IV.]
A WONDERFUL TEMPLE.—RUINS OF NAGKON WAT AND ANGKOR.
What with sight-seeing, writing letters to friends at home, and filling their note-books with information for future use, the boys had enough to occupy their time during their stay in Saigon. In the course of their studies of the country and its characteristics, they became interested in its ancient history, and were desirous of seeing some of the ruins that remain from the early days of Anam and Cambodia. But as the time at their disposal was too short, and the expense and difficulties of a journey to the interior would be very great, they were obliged to forego the pleasure they would derive from an actual visit to some of the most stupendous ruins in the world.
CAMBODIAN FEMALE HEAD-DRESS. ANCIENT SCULPTURE.
But the Doctor came to their relief in a great measure by giving them a full account of the wonders they were unable to contemplate.
"It is not generally known," said he, "that Cambodia contains the ruins of a temple that was greater in its time than the very famous one of Thebes in Egypt."
Frank and Fred opened their eyes in astonishment, as they had always believed there was nothing in the world that could surpass the Egyptian temples of old.
"I will describe them to you," he continued, "and make comparison between the work of the Egyptian builders and those of Cambodia. When I have finished, you will be able to judge which is the more magnificent.
"The great temple I refer to in Cambodia is known as the Nagkon Wat. Wat, in the Malay language, means temple, and the place in question is designated by the name 'Nagkon.' The province where it is situated is really in the territory of Siam—as it was taken from Cambodia near the end of the last century and annexed to the rival kingdom. If you want to find the ruins on the map, you must look in about latitude 13° 30' north, and longitude 104° east. It is not known who built the temple, as the inscriptions on the stones are in a language that is not understood at the present day. The general belief is that it was erected twelve or fifteen hundred years ago, but the estimates of its age vary all the way from five hundred to two thousand years.
"It is far more modern than the temples of ancient Egypt, and probably not nearly as ancient as some of the famous edifices of Syria. In course of time some one will be able to read the inscriptions, and then we will learn all about its age and the reasons for its erection."
Fig. 1. Plan of Inner Temple at Nagkon.
Fig. 2. Plan of area enclosed by outer wall of Nagkon Wat.
"Here is a map of the ruins as they exist to-day," said the Doctor. "You perceive that the general shape of the work is a square, and that there are altogether three squares, the smaller inside the greater."
The boys looked at the map, and indicated that they observed the outline of the temple.
"Well," continued Doctor Bronson, "the outer wall, which is not shown in the plan, is more than half a mile square; if you should undertake to walk around it you would have a promenade of nearly three miles.
"Outside the wall there is a wide ditch that was evidently of considerable depth when first made, but it is filled in many places with weeds and trees, and there is a forest of palm-trees between the outer wall and the body of the temple.
"The main entrance is by a causeway, which you see extending upward from the foot of the map. The whole length of this causeway, from its beginning beyond the outer wall to the entrance of the temple, is nearly two thousand feet, and more than half this distance is within the wall. The building itself, as you see it on the map, is oblong in shape, being eight hundred feet long by five hundred and ninety wide; it rises in three terraces to a central tower two hundred and fifty feet high, and there are four other towers at the corners of the inner temple that are each one hundred and fifty feet from the ground.
UNFINISHED PILLARS.
"The causeway was paved with blocks of sandstone, and the edifice throughout is of the same material. All the stone for the work was brought from a quarry thirty miles away, and the transportation alone was an enormous affair. The blocks were brought in a rough state, and were not finished until they had been put in the positions where they were to remain. The temple was never completely finished, as there are several columns that remain just as they came from the quarry, and a careful observer can indicate the exact spot where the workman turned away from his labor. It is supposed that the stone was brought on boats in a canal, as there is no road that could have served for purposes of transit.
COLUMNS IN THE TEMPLE.
"It is impossible to describe in detail all the halls, and corridors, and sculptured walls of this wonderful temple. There are several halls composed of rows of solid columns, like the great hall of the temple at Thebes. I remember standing astonished at Thebes as I looked at the great hall, with its one hundred and thirty-four columns, and learned that, originally, the temple contained nearly three hundred columns of different sizes. In the Cambodian temple of Nagkon Wat, one thousand five hundred and thirty two solid columns have been counted; and it is estimated that there are not less than six thousand columns in the entire mass of ruins in and around the temple. Most of these columns are made from single blocks of stone, and all of them are beautifully carved, just as the Egyptian ones are beautifully painted.
SCULPTURES ON THE WALLS OF WAGKON WAT.
"It would not be at all difficult for a stranger to lose his way in Nagkon Wat, and wander for hours, unable to find an exit. He might spend days and days in the study of the beautiful sculptures that adorn the place; and when I tell you that the walls are covered with sculptures from one end of the temple to the other, and you remember the enormous size of the building, you can understand what a gigantic picture-gallery it is. The scenes represented are mostly from the Hindoo mythology; they illustrate battles and triumphal processions, sacrifices and festivals, and also the contests of some of the Hindoo deities with each other, and with mortals. There is one gallery alone that has half a mile of pictures cut in stone, and it is estimated that at least one hundred thousand human figures are engraved there. Here is a picture of some of them, and you may judge by it of the general excellence of the work throughout."
The boys devoted several minutes to the contemplation of the photograph which the Doctor showed them. Frank remarked that the lightness of the wheels of the chariot would seem to indicate that it was made of metal, and consequently the ancient Cambodians must have been familiar with the use of iron or brass, perhaps both. The soldiers at the bottom of the picture were marching in a manner that denoted military discipline, but he could not make out the nature of their weapons. Certainly they were not rifles, as fire-arms were unknown in those days, and they did not seem to be spears or bows and arrows. The men were provided with shields, and in this respect their customs resembled those of many people of the present day.
The Doctor explained that the ancient Cambodians made use of spears; but the principal weapons they employed were clubs, not altogether unlike those of the South Sea Islanders. Sometimes the club was made straight, and at others it was curved at the end farthest from the hand of its owner. It was wielded with the right hand, and the shield was carried in the left.
Fred called attention to the fact that there was an elephant in the picture, and the man on his back was in the act of discharging an arrow from a bow. Therefore they must have employed bowmen, and evidently they were an important part of the service, as they were mounted on elephants.
"You are quite right in your conclusions," Doctor Bronson responded; "the bowmen were considered of the highest importance, and their arrows often did great execution. The elephant had a prominent place in all the armies of the East, as you know from history, and the Cambodians were no exception to the rule. No Eastern king would consider his retinue complete without a large number of war-elephants in his stables."
"There is a tradition," he continued, "that the king of ancient Cambodia had an army of half a million of men, with a hundred thousand elephants, which he could lead to war at a few days' notice. This is undoubtedly an exaggeration; but he probably had a good supply of these very useful animals, and his army presented a fine appearance when it was called to the field."
Frank observed that the men did not wear armor, and, in fact, had very little clothing anyway. He wondered that this was the case, as the king was evidently very rich and powerful, and ought to have had his army equipped and dressed in the best possible style.
Fred replied that armor, in a hot country like Cambodia, would be a very inconvenient thing for a soldier, and render him practically useless. Frank had not thought of that, and as soon as his attention was called to it he quite agreed with Fred.
"A gentleman who visited the temple of Nagkon Wat," the Doctor remarked, "has given a very good account of the general character of the sculptures on the walls. I refer to Mr. Thomson, and cannot do better than quote a few lines from him.
VIEW FROM THE CENTRAL TOWER OF THE TEMPLE.
"The bass-reliefs," says Mr. Thomson, "which are sculptured on the walls of the galleries of Nagkon Wat are extremely interesting. They are contained in eight compartments, measuring each from two hundred and fifty to three hundred feet in length, with a height of six and a half feet, and in a square space of six and a half feet the average number of men and animals depicted is sixty. The majority of these representations are executed with such care and skill, and are so well drawn, as to indicate that art was fostered, and reached a high state of perfection among the 'Khamen-te-Buran,' or ancient Cambodians.
"The chief subjects represented are battle scenes, taken from the epic poems, Ramayana and Mahabarata—which the Siamese are said to have received from India about the fourth or fifth century. Disciplined forces are depicted marching to the field, and possessing distinct characteristics soon lost in the confusion of battle. In the eager faces and attitudes of the warriors, as they press forward past bands of musicians, we see that music then, as now, had its spirit-stirring influence. We also find humane actions represented—a group bending over a wounded comrade to extract an arrow, or remove him from the field. There are also the most animated scenes of bravery—soldiers saving the lives of their chiefs; chiefs bending over their plunging steeds, and measuring their prowess in single combat; and, finally, the victorious army quitting the field laden with spoil, and guarding the numerous captives with cavalry in front and rear.
"Perhaps the most wonderful subject of all the bass reliefs is what the Siamese call the battle of 'Ramakean.' This is one of the leading incidents of the Ramayama, of which Coleman says, 'The Grecians had their Homer, to render imperishable the fame acquired by their glorious combats in the Trojan war; the Latins had Virgil, to sing the prowess of Æneas; and the Hindoos have their Valmac, to immortalize the deeds of Rama and his army of monkeys.' The Ramayama—one of the finest poems extant—describes the scenes of Rama's life, and the exploits of the contending foes.
GALLERY OF SCULPTURES.
"In the sculptures of Nagkon Wat, many of the incidents of the life of Rama are depicted; such as his final triumph over the god Ravana, and the recovery of his wife Sita. The chief illustration of the poem, however, is the battle scene which ensues after the ape-god Hanuman had performed several of the feats which formed the every-day incidents of his life, such as the construction of what is now known as Adam's Bridge, between Ceylon and India. This he accomplished by a judicious selection of ten mountains, each measuring sixty-four miles in circumference; and being short of arms, but never of expedients, when conveying them to Ceylon, he poised one of them on the tip of his tail, another on his head, and with these formed his celebrated bridge, over which his army of apes passed to Lanka.
"In another compartment the subject appears to be the second Avatar of Vishnu, where that god is represented as a tortoise supporting the earth, which is submerged in the waters. The four-armed Brama is seated above. A seven-headed snake is shown above the water, coiled around the earth, and extending over the entire length of the bass-relief. The gods on the right and the dinytas on the left are seen contending for the serpent. Hanuman is pulling at the tail, while above a flight of angels are bearing a cable to bind the reptile after the conflict is over.
"In another compartment we find various mechanical appliances that are in use to-day. There are double-handled saws; and there are knives, levers, wedges, pestles and mortars, and a number of other contrivances that are more or less familiar to us."
The boys listened with much interest to the reading of the preceding account. When the Doctor concluded, Frank ventured to ask if the temple was in a good state of preservation, and whether it was in use at the present time.
ANCIENT TOWER OVERGROWN WITH POH-TREES.
"It has greatly decayed," replied Doctor Bronson; "but there are so many of its walls and galleries standing, that the most careless visitor cannot fail to be impressed with its grandeur, and be able to trace out every part of the original plan. In many places the weeds and grass and other vegetation are so luxuriant that the work of the architects is concealed, and can only be found by searching. There is one tree, called the 'poh,' that is a great destroyer of walls and stone floorings. The whole temple was constructed without the use of cement, and in many instances the junction of the stones is so perfect that only a slender line can be perceived. The roots of the poh-tree insinuate themselves into the smallest crevice; then they grow and expand, and by so doing they gradually force the stones apart. This tree has been of great injury to the temple we have been considering, and to many other edifices in these tropical countries of the East.
HUTS OF THE PRIESTS.
"In reply to your second question, I can say that the temple is still used, though not to the extent it was in its early days. A few priests live there, and perform services at regular periods; they are supported by the contributions of the followers of Buddha, who visit the place, and by donations from the inhabitants of the country round there. They do not live in the temple itself, but in small huts erected inside the enclosure that surrounds the great building. These huts are of thatched grass, and stand on posts as a security against the snakes that abound in the neighborhood. They are shaded by the palm-trees that have grown up in what was once a clear space around the temple, and in hot afternoons their protection is very grateful."
Fred inquired about the other ruins in Cambodia, and wished to know how extensive they were.
"As to that," the Doctor explained, "I cannot speak positively, and I doubt if there is any one who can. About three miles from Nagkon Wat there are the ruins of a city which was known as Angkor, which was evidently a very important city in its day. It was the capital of Cambodia, and, according to the description of a Chinese official, who visited it in the year 1295, it was something remarkable. It was then in the height of its glory; but three hundred years later, when it was visited by a Portuguese missionary, it was almost in ruins, and had ceased to be of any consequence. Then there was another period of nearly three hundred years in which nothing was heard of or from Angkor; it was not till the year 1855 that any writer seems to have gone there, and as for the Cambodians themselves, they are sublimely ignorant of the history of this once great city.
"In the year I last mentioned, M. Mouhot, a French explorer, passed through Cambodia and made a careful survey and description of the ruins. He subsequently died in the northern part of Siam, and it was feared that the result of his labors would be lost, but fortunately his journal was saved and has since been published. Since Mouhot's time several persons have written about the ruins, so that a fair amount of knowledge concerning them is accessible. But every year new remains are discovered among the trees of the thick forest, and it is difficult to say when all of the ancient walls and statues and temples will be brought to light."
At the conclusion of the Doctor's remarks, a servant entered with the announcement that dinner was on the table. Thereupon the mental feast on the antiquities of Eastern Asia was abandoned for the more practical feast on the edible productions of the country. Frank thought that the dinner would receive a high compliment if it proved as enjoyable as their talk about Nagkon Wat and the ruins of Angkor—an opinion which Fred lost no time in sharing.
STONE WITH ANCIENT SCULPTURES.
[CHAPTER V.]
CAMBODIA.—ITS CAPITAL AND KING.
Having studied ancient Cambodia, Frank and Fred were desirous of learning something of the modern country of that name. At the hotel where they were stopping they found a gentleman who had recently been at Panompin, the Cambodian capital, and had spent sufficient time there to be able to give a good account of it. As soon as he found that his young acquaintances were anxious to hear about Cambodia, he promptly consented to enlighten them.
He was at leisure one evening after dinner, and, by mutual consent, the party gathered on the veranda in front of the hotel, and an hour was pleasantly passed in conversation regarding the little-known country.
A CAMBODIAN IDOL.
"If you think," said the gentleman, "that Panompin is a large city, as one naturally thinks of the capital of a country, you would be greatly disappointed if you went there.
"Its population is not more than twenty or twenty-five thousand, and is made up of several nationalities. There are Siamese, Chinese, Anamese, and Manilla men among the inhabitants, as well as the native Cambodians, and there are no long streets of fine buildings, such as you would expect a capital to contain. It is situated on the banks of the Mesap, a small river of Cambodia that empties into the Mekong: the greater part of Panompin is on the right bank of the stream, but there is a small portion of it on the opposite shore, and another on an island near the junction of the Mesap with the Mekong. To locate it on the map, you must put your finger at about latitude 11° 30' north, and longitude 105° east, and if your map is a good one, you will find a large lake not far off.
FISHING-VILLAGE ON LAKE THALYSAP.
"This is Lake Thalysap, and it is a body of water of no small importance. It is about ninety miles long, and varies from eight to twenty-five miles in width. It is very shallow except in a few places, and in the wet season the country around it is so flooded with water that the lake is then a hundred miles and more in length. There are many villages along the shores of the lake, and at all seasons of the year you can see whole fleets of boats going to and fro over the water. Great quantities of fish are caught in the lake, and those not intended to be eaten in the vicinity are dried or salted for export to other parts of Asia. There are also many fish caught for their oil; the villages along the lake make a considerable business by preparing this oil, and the stench is often so great that your nose will tell you the location of a village before your eyes do.
"In the lower part the lake narrows steadily until it forms a river, and this river is the Mesap, which I have mentioned to you; consequently you have only to follow the current to come to Panompin. It has only been the capital within the last ten years; until that time the seat of government was at Oodong, and the change was made on account of the supposed unhealthiness of the latter place. The real fact is that Panompin is better situated for commercial and political purposes, as it is at the end of the great lake, and close by the River Mekong. If you could see the two places you would understand it at once.
"You can have little idea of the quantity of fish caught in the lake and river till you see them. Lots of towns and villages are entirely occupied with the fish business, and some of these towns contain as many as four hundred houses, though the most of them are smaller. Some of the fish are eight or ten feet long and three feet thick, and their bodies are so full of oil that one of them is a good prize to his captor. It is very funny to see a native struggling with one of these large fish; and sometimes it requires a hard fight to bring him in. I have seen a man dragged into the water and nearly drowned; and though I enjoyed the performance, I presume it was no fun at all to the man.
PANOMPIN, THE CAPITAL OF CAMBODIA.
"Panompin consists, for the most part, of bamboo huts, without much pretence of architecture, and the streets are so bad that though the king has several carriages he rarely rides out. The principal street is about three miles in length, and somewhat irregular in its course, as though the instruments of the surveyor who laid it out were not in the best order. There are a few stores and shops of brick, and there are some temples whose spires rise above the buildings that surround them. The palace of the king is the finest edifice in the place; it was designed by a French architect, and the construction was supervised by him, but all the actual work was performed by natives. It is like a fine dwelling-house in the neighborhood of New York or London, and the internal arrangement of the rooms is entirely European in character. The palace has some large halls for receptions, and it has dining-rooms, sleeping-rooms, and all the usual apartments that a dwelling should contain. The king lives there; and, as he rarely goes out, he determined to have a residence as comfortable as could be made. He is very proud of it; and if you should visit him he would consider it a great politeness if you admired it all you possibly could—and a little more.
"Not far from the king's palace is the barrack, where the French troops are quartered for the preservation of order, and to see that the king does nothing that would be against the interest of his protectors. There is generally a French gun-boat or two lying in the river opposite the barracks, and in the river farther down there are two or three small gun-boats and steamers that belong to the king, and are kept near his palace.
"As the city has so much dependence on the river for its support, there is a tendency on the part of the inhabitants to crowd near the stream; consequently Panompin stretches about three miles along the bank, and less than half a mile away from it. This is where you find the street I have mentioned; it is not more than thirty feet wide, and paved with a concrete mass of broken brick mixed with sand. You find a straggling line of low huts of bamboo or other light material along the whole length of this street, and in the busy hours of the day the assemblage of people is pretty dense. The Chinese are great gamblers, and a goodly portion of these huts are gambling-shops, whose proprietors pay a license for the privilege of running the business. In several of these Eastern countries the money received from gambling forms an important item in the public revenue; and if it should be stopped, the treasury would suffer in consequence."
"What an outrageous piece of business!" said Frank. "To think that a government would derive any part of its revenue from gambling!"
"But remember we are in Asia," Fred remarked; "and we can't expect these people to be civilized."
The Doctor smiled at this outburst of indignation, and when it was ended he reminded the boys that several governments of Europe did exactly what they thought so reprehensible when done by Asiatics.
"Not governments of any consequence," said Frank.
"Well," answered the Doctor, "I hardly think we could say that. Italy, Spain, and Austria are certainly of some consequence, and in all of them the lottery, which is a form of gambling, is a government institution. It is only a few years ago that the gambling-tables at Baden-Baden, in Germany, were stopped, and there was serious talk, at the time, of allowing the gamblers that were suppressed in Germany to open their business at Geneva, in Switzerland.
"And furthermore," Doctor Bronson continued, "we cannot throw many stones at the Chinese and other Eastern people for gambling when we have so much of it in America. In all our large cities the vice exists in defiance of the law; and in some of the States, particularly in Kentucky and Louisiana, the lottery is a recognized institution, and the drawings are supervised by officers appointed by the governor."
Frank and Fred both declared that this information was new to them, and hereafter they would not be too hasty to condemn other countries, lest they might find that the thing they objected to prevailed in their own.
The description of Panompin was resumed:
"There are some manufactures in the Cambodian capital," their informant continued, "but they are not numerous. The people are famous for their manufactures of silk, which is an important article of export, both in its raw and in its finished state. They are skilful workers of gold and silver, and I could show you some exquisite specimens of their production. Wait a moment and I will bring one."
SPECIMEN OF CAMBODIAN GOLD-WORK.
He went to his room, which was situated just off the veranda, and returned in a few moments with a small box resembling a flattened orange, or, more properly, a melon. The boys took it to the light, and examined it with care.
The gold, as well as the workmanship, was Cambodian; some of it was the natural color of the metal, and other parts were stained to various degrees of redness. On the top there was a cluster of leaves, and the end of the stem contained a topaz, which had been purposely left unfinished.
The leaves were in fine filigree, and some of the wires were so delicate that they resembled golden hairs. The whole surface of the box was covered with flowers and leaves in the most tasteful designs; and both the boys were of opinion that the jewellers of New York would not find it easy to imitate this production of the Asiatic barbarians.
"The king has a fine collection of these things," the gentleman continued, "and he generally gives one of them to any stranger of importance who visits him. It is lucky for his treasury that it is not easy to go to Panompin, as otherwise he might find these presents a serious expense.
THE KING OF CAMBODIA.
"And if you wish to know about the king, here is his photograph. You perceive that it is taken in European dress, which he wears on grand occasions, and has adopted since the French Protectorate was established in Cambodia. He is an amiable gentleman of pleasing manners, and makes an agreeable impression on those who come in contact with him. He has quite a collection of English and French books, maps, and albums, and is fond of showing them; and he has a fine lot of Japanese and Chinese vases—enough to stock a fair-sized museum. Then he has European clocks, music-boxes, and the like; and he has a billiard-table, on which he plays very well. He also has a piano, but those who have heard him perform on it say that he is better at billiards than at music.
"The carpets, furniture, and other adornments of his palace are mostly from Europe, but he has some fine specimens of native embroidery that are fully equal to any of his foreign importations. He sleeps in a bed of European manufacture, and the netting that protects him from mosquitoes is from an English or French loom. He has travelled to Hong-kong and Shanghai, where he spent much time in learning all he could about the productions of the western part of the world, and, on his return, he endeavored to give his people the benefit of his knowledge. He is much liked by his people; and, on the whole, they could hardly hope for a better ruler.
QUEEN OF CAMBODIA AND ROYAL CHILDREN.
"The Queen of Cambodia, like most of the Asiatic queens, is rarely seen in public. She has not adopted the foreign dress, but adheres to the panoung, a sort of loose wrapper falling a little below the knees, and gathered at the centre. Here is her portrait, with two of the royal children; and you will observe that she wears heavy anklets of gold, and does not think it necessary to cover her feet with shoes. Her hair is cut in the national way, and sticks up in the centre like a shoe-brush. Great importance is attached to the ceremony of hair-cutting when a royal child reaches the age of seven years, and it is generally performed by the king himself in the presence of all the dignitaries of the land."
"What a funny idea!" said Fred, "that the king shall act as a barber, and handle the shears over the head of one of his children. I wonder if he is as skilful as a regular professional?"
"As to that," was the reply, "I presume it does not make much difference. He only takes off a lock or two, and the hair-dresser of the palace does the rest. You will hear more of this curious ceremony when you get to Siam, as the custom prevails there no less than in Cambodia.
"In Panompin there is an artificial mound, which is called for politeness' sake a mountain, where the hair-cutting ceremony is performed. It stands near the palace, and is as high as the building itself. It is built partly of earth and partly of bamboo, and the sides are colored so as to represent stone, silver, and gold, the last color being near the top. A winding path leads up to a platform on the summit, and here the king stands while he goes through the solemnities of the occasion. The path goes through tunnels and arches, and occasional grottoes and valleys, and the whole structure is intended to represent a mountain in miniature. The platform is a favorite resort of the king in the evening, as the air is generally cooler there than on the ground below, and not infrequently he meets his ministers on the top of the mountain to discuss matters of public importance.
"But it is getting late, and I think I have told you as much about Panompin and the King of Cambodia as you will be likely to remember. So I will say good-night."
The boys thanked the gentleman for his kindness, and the Doctor added his acknowledgments to theirs. Then the party separated.
Frank and Fred sat up till their eyelids were heavy to take down in writing a summary of what they had heard. They realized the necessity of making their notes at once, through fear that if they waited till the next day something would be forgotten. Frank wrote the description of Panompin and the country generally; and Fred devoted himself to the royal family, the scenes in the palace, and the curious story of cutting the youthful hair. Thus the labor was divided to the satisfaction of both.
In the morning the Doctor informed them that they were to depart that day for Siam. The steamer Danube had arrived, and her captain had been early on shore to arrange for the delivery of what cargo was to be landed, and to receive what he should take away. He did not expect to be long in port, and they must be prepared to leave at a few hours' notice.
Their baggage was put in readiness, and the rest of the time on shore was devoted to the preparation of letters for America. The French mail steamer from Singapore was due that day on her way to Hong-kong and Shanghai, and when she left she carried a goodly budget from the boys. In due time the letters were safely delivered; and for a fortnight there was little else talked of in the Bassett and Bronson households than the adventures of Frank and Fred, in Cochin China.
THE HARBOR OF OODONG, CAMBODIA.
The boys made good use of their time up to the last moment. Fred found a copy of the book of M. Mouhot, who has been mentioned heretofore, and the last hour of his stay in Saigon was devoted to writing out the description which that gentleman gives of Oodong, the former capital of Cambodia. The visit of M. Mouhot was made in 1860, and is thus described:
"On approaching the capital the prospect becomes more diversified; we passed fields of rice, cottages encircled by fruit-gardens, and country-houses belonging to the Cambodian aristocracy, who come here in the evening for the sake of breathing a purer air than they can find in the city. As we drew closer to the gates, I found the place to be protected by a palisade three metres high—about ten feet. The houses are built of bamboo or planks, and the market-place occupied by the Chinese is as dirty as all the others of which I have made mention. The largest street, or, rather, the only one, is about a mile in length; and in the environs reside the agriculturists, as well as the mandarins and other government officers. The entire population numbers about twelve thousand.
A GIRL OF OODONG.
"The many Cambodians living in the immediate vicinity, and still more the number of chiefs who resort to Oodong for business or pleasure, or are passing through it on their way from one province to another, contribute to give animation to the capital. Every moment 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 according to the rank of the person; others, boxes with betel. I also encountered horsemen mounted on pretty, spirited 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 noiselessly, 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."
HOUSE IN THE SUBURBS.
[CHAPTER VI.]
DEPARTURE FROM SAIGON.—VISITING A CHINESE JUNK.
When the party went on board the Danube, the boys found that they were not to have the comforts of the great steamers that had brought them from Shanghai and Hong-kong. The Danube was a small ship, and her builders did not design her for carrying passengers; she was constructed in England, and, after she arrived in China, a little cabin was built on her deck, so that a couple of passengers might have a room to share between them. The dining-saloon was about six feet long, and as many wide, and its cushioned sofas could be used as beds. Consequently, she could carry four passengers with comparative comfort, and, in emergencies, another could sleep on the table when the sea was smooth, or under it in rough weather. The captain was a jolly Englishman, who gave a hearty greeting to the American strangers, and before they had been ten minutes on board they felt quite at home. Their heavy baggage was sent below, and there was plenty of room under the bunks in the cabin for stowing all the articles they needed on the voyage.
The Danube moved from her anchorage and turned her prow down the river.
"Hurrah!" shouted Frank, "now we are off for Siam."
Fred joined his cousin in raising a cheer.
"Don't be in too great a hurry," said Captain Clanchy, "we are not off yet. We are to go along-side that Chinese junk you see just at the bend of the river, and will take some cargo from her. We shall probably be two or three hours about it, and then we will be off for Siam."
Frank's face fell at this intelligence, but only for a moment.
"We shall have an opportunity of seeing a junk and going on board of it," he remarked, "and that will repay us a dozen times over for the delay."
Fred was equally happy at the prospect, and both the boys were impatient to be on the deck of the strange craft.
A CHINESE JUNK.
In a little while their wishes were gratified, and they were able to step from the Danube to the great junk. Before they did so Fred suggested that he had just thought why these Chinese ships were called junks.
"Why is it?" Frank asked.
"Because," was the reply, "you can see from the shape of them how they are built. The Chinese make a ship a mile or two long, and when they want one they cut off a junk, or chunk, just as you like to spell it. Then they stick masts into it, and it is ready to sail away. It is square at both ends, and resembles a chunk out of a log more than anything else."
There was a laugh all around at Fred's humorous description of the Chinese process of shipbuilding, and by the time the joke had ceased to amuse they were ready to go over the side. Captain Clanchy accompanied them, and pointed out several objects of interest that otherwise might have escaped their attention.
"You observe," said the captain, "that the deck of the junk is lumbered up with all sorts of stuff. How the men manage to get around is a mystery, and it is a wonder that they can keep the craft on her course with everything in such confusion."
The boys were equally puzzled, and thought there must be a good many junks lost every year. The captain said such was the case; but, on the other hand, there was such a great number of these craft that a few more or less made no perceptible difference.
"Except to the owners and the men that are lost with the junks," remarked the Doctor. "It must be a very serious affair to them."
"Sometimes these junks last to a great age," the captain continued. "There are junks now navigating the China seas that are more than a hundred years old; at least so I am informed."
"How long have the Chinese had this model for their ships?" Frank asked of the captain.
"Nobody knows how long," was the reply. "We are ignorant of the early history of China, and can only guess at many things. But we have reason to believe that the Chinese were the first people that ever built ships to be propelled by the force of the wind alone. They began with the model they now have, and have stuck to it ever since."
"Where is the captain of this junk?" Fred asked. "I would like to see him."
"She has probably half a dozen captains," Clanchy replied; "perhaps a dozen."
"A dozen captains! how can that be?"
"They build these junks in compartments," said the Doctor, in response to Fred's inquiry, "and each compartment has a captain."
OUTLINE OF MODERN SHIP, SHOWING COMPARTMENTS.
"I thought the plan of building ships in compartments was of modern invention, and had only been applied to ocean steamers in the last thirty years. Seems to me I heard so," Frank remarked.
"In one sense you are right," the Doctor answered; "it is only about thirty years ago that the English and American ship-builders began the adoption of this principle. Nearly all the great steamers now navigating the Atlantic Ocean are divided into compartments—generally five or six; and even should two of these spaces become filled with water from any accident, the ship will continue to float. Several steamers have been saved after collision with icebergs, or with other ships, by reason of being thus constructed. Had they been of the old model, they would have infallibly gone to the bottom.
"But the Chinese are ahead of us, as they have built their ships in this way for centuries. Six hundred years ago Marco Polo visited the East, and on his return wrote a book about the country and people. He describes the compartment ships that the Chinese built at that time, and explains their advantages. The wonder is that it took the European builders so long to copy the idea. Not till well into this century was it adopted."
"But how about the half-dozen captains?" Fred asked. "Why should a ship like this have so many, when the Great Eastern or the City of Chester can get along with one?"
"The way of it is," said Captain Clanchy, "that the junk has a lot of compartments—anyway from six to a dozen—and each compartment is let out to a merchant. He is captain of that compartment and all it contains; and if there are ten compartments, he is one-tenth captain of the whole. The crew is under a chief who gets his orders from the merchants, and they have a great deal to say as to how the junk shall sail. Sometimes they want her to go to half a dozen places at once, and in as many directions, and not infrequently they get into frightful rows about it. Don't understand me to say that this is always the case, or anything like it, as a good many of their junks are managed pretty much as an English ship would be. We will see how the matter stands on this one."
A little inquiry revealed the fact that there were two men on board equally interested in the cargo, and with equal authority over the movements of the junk. But they were evidently working in perfect harmony, and so there was no chance that the strangers would be compelled to witness a row among the commanders.
A JUNK SAILOR AT BREAKFAST.
The boys found the deck of the junk covered with a very complex arrangement of ropes, windlasses, tubs, and baskets. Some of the crew were sitting around waiting for orders, and others were at breakfast. As soon as the Danube was made fast along-side, they were set at work to remove the cargo from one of the compartments and transfer it to the steamer. The steamer's crew assisted in the work, and in a little while it was accomplished. During this time the great sail of matting was flapping against the mast, and the ropes were swinging as though they would become hopelessly entangled. But no accident happened; and when the Danube had moved away, the sails were run up and the junk began to push slowly through the water. This gave the boys an opportunity to see her general shape and mode of construction.
They found that she was built of heavy planking, and that many of the planks retained the shape of the tree from which they were taken. These planks, as they were told, were fastened together by wooden tree-nails; in fact, there was very little metal about the fastenings; and, as a further security, there were a good many lashings of ropes to hold the outside timbers to the frame. The stern rose high out of water, and was cut off square, and the same was the case with the bow. The funniest thing was a pair of great staring eyes, to enable the ship to see her way, and to frighten off the demons that infest the waters and have a particular hostility to sailors. Every boat and ship of Chinese construction is provided with eyes, and the larger the eye the better the craft can take care of herself.
CHINESE RIVER BOAT.
The junk in question had three masts, and there was a gay assortment of flags and streamers flying from them. The mat sails were held up by a great many ropes—there being a rope to each section where the bamboo poles ran across. There was a great advantage in this arrangement, as it enabled the sailors to shorten sail in case of an increasing wind by simply lowering it till one of the sections could be taken in. And when they wish to furl the sail altogether, they have only to let go and the whole thing comes "down with a run." The construction of the sails can be better understood by reference to the picture here presented of a boat such as the Chinese use for river navigation.
As the Danube steamed on down the river and out to sea the conversation between the boys and Doctor Bronson turned very naturally upon ships and their peculiarities.
SHIP OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY.
"The difference between us and the Chinese in the matter of ships is that we have progressed, while they have remained stationary. Their junks are of the same pattern as they were a thousand years ago, while we are making changes every year. Look at a picture of a European ship of the fourteenth century, and see how closely it resembles a Chinese junk. Both the bow and stern are very far out of water, and the arrangement of the sails is quite Chinese in its character. About the year 1520 the English built a war ship which they called the The Great Harry, and it was considered a wonderful specimen of naval architecture. Who would venture to sail in her now, and how long would it take a war steamer of 1880 to send her to the bottom? Compare The Great Harry with the Tennessee, which is one of the recent American ships, and observe the progress that has been made in three centuries and a half. The bow and stern have been brought to a level, and the shape of the hull is such that the ship glides through the water instead of ploughing over it. Navigators have found that the ship that makes the least 'fuss' while in motion is the best, and they have devoted a great deal of study to finding the proper shape for the least resistance."
"THE GREAT HARRY."
"Yes," remarked Captain Clanchy, who was standing near, "and it took them a long time to find that the shape of the stern of a ship was almost as important as that of her bow, in regulating her speed. A square stern makes a great boiling and depression in the water, while a long tapering stern allows the water to close silently and with the least possible resistance. You can easily illustrate what I mean by taking a stick of wood that is square at both ends, and tying a string to it so as to drag it endwise in the water. You find that it moves easier when the forward end is sharpened than when both ends are blunt, and then if you sharpen both of them you find it moves still more easily. This is what the naval architects were a long time discovering, and the most of them are wondering why they did not think of it before."
THE "TENNESSEE."
"Then, too," said Doctor Bronson, "it was found that by lengthening a ship of the old model a great deal was gained. This has been done in the last ten or fifteen years, and many of the steamers now running between New York and England have been lengthened in this way. They have not been built on at either end, but have been cut in two in the centre, and had a new section built in. A ship to be lengthened would be placed on the ways, and then cut open in the middle. If she was to be extended a hundred feet, the two ends would be drawn apart for that distance, and then the space would be filled up. She might be two hundred feet long when taken on the ways, and without any change of bow or stern her length would be increased to three hundred feet. With this addition to her tonnage she is much more valuable than before, and her original speed can be maintained with only a small addition to her power. Then there have recently been great improvements in the construction of engines; and I think it safe to say that what with changes in length, engines, and some other things, a ship of a given number of tons can be run for half the expense that was required twenty years ago. Steam navigation is now so economical that it is rapidly driving sailing vessels from the ocean. The number of sailing ships on long voyages is diminishing every year, and that of steamers is increasing."
"What is the greatest speed that steamers can make nowadays, with all these improvements?" Frank asked.
"There is much dispute," Doctor Bronson replied, "over the performances of ships at sea, and it is not at all easy to get at the actual facts. Take the great steam lines between New York and Liverpool, and there are two or three of them that claim to have done better than any of their rivals. The managers of the White Star Line can show that their ships have made the voyage quicker than the Inman steamers, and the Inman managers can as readily prove that their ships have surpassed all others. There are several steamers afloat that have made more than four hundred miles in twenty-four hours, but they can only do it when all the circumstances are favorable. There are many men who believe that steamers will be built before the end of this century that will make five hundred miles in a day, and if we judge of the future by the past, I see no reason to doubt that the feat will be accomplished. We may yet come to the speed of a railway train on the water, and more than one inventor believes that he can do so. The prediction that we will yet cross the Atlantic in three days is no wilder than would have been the prediction, at the beginning of this century, that we could travel on land or sea at our present rate, and that intelligence could be flashed along a wire in a few seconds of time from one end of the world to the other. The railway, the ocean steamer, the telegraph, the telephone, and many other things that seem almost commonplace to us, would have been regarded as the emanations of a crazy brain a hundred years ago."
"Perhaps," said Fred, "the year 3000 may find us travelling in the air as freely as we now travel on land."
THE PUBLIC HIGHWAY OF THE FUTURE.
"Not at all impossible," the Doctor answered. "We, or our descendants, may be able to go through the air at will, and show the birds that we can do as much as they can. Not long ago I was reading a sketch which was supposed to be written a thousand years hence. The writer describes his travels, and gives a picture of the public highway. An omnibus supported by balloons, and drawn by a pair of them—harnessed as we would harness horses—is represented on its way through the air. The driver is on his box and the conductor at the door, while the passengers are looking out of the windows. A bird, who has doubtless become thoroughly familiar with the aërial craft, has seized the hat of a passenger and flies away with it, and the victim of the theft is vainly stretching his hands towards his property. Balloons are sailing through the air, and in one a man is seated, who is evidently out for a day's sport. He has a rod and line, and is industriously occupied in birding, just as one might engage in fishing from the side of a boat. A string of birds hangs from the seat of his conveyance, and he is in the act of taking a fresh prize at the end of his line.
THE BOMB FERRY.
"There is another picture representing the ferry of the future. It consists of an enormous mortar, from which a couple of bombs have been fired; they are connected by a chain, and each bomb is large enough to contain several persons. The passengers are supposed to be quite comfortable, and to be whizzed through the air at the speed of a cannon-shot."
"But, of course, such a thing is impossible," said Fred; "nobody could stand it to be shot through a tube at that rate."
"But something very much like it has been proposed in all seriousness; a few years ago an inventor in New York had a scheme for a line of tube four or five feet in diameter, and extending to the principal cities of the land. His cars were to consist of hollow globes or spheres, and they were to be propelled at a very rapid rate by exhausting the air in front of them. His plan was regarded as quite visionary, but it is not at all impossible that it may yet come into use. Small pneumatic tubes are in successful operation for the transmission of letters and little parcels; and in London there is a tube four feet in diameter from the General Post-office to a railway station more than two miles away. The mail-bags are transported through this tube, and on several occasions men have taken their places in the carriages and enjoyed the sensation of this novel mode of travel."
MOONLIGHT AT SEA IN THE TROPICS.
The steamer held her tortuous way down the Mekong, and at length she passed the light-house and went out to sea. The weather was delightful, though a trifle warm, and the three passengers found the cabin oppressive at times on account of the closeness of the atmosphere. A good deal of their time was passed on deck both by day and by night, and, as the moon was then at the full, the night on deck was thoroughly enjoyable. Occasionally they were joined by the captain, and, as he possessed a good fund of marine stories, the boys picked up a great deal of information of a varied character. As they were bound for Siam, they overhauled their trunks for all the books they possessed on that country, and happily they found several volumes in the captain's library that were of use to them. Among them was the account of Marco Polo and his travels in the East. What our friends found in the work in question we will reserve for the next chapter.
A STORY OF THE SEA.
[CHAPTER VII.]
THE WONDERFUL STORY OF MARCO POLO.
MARCO POLO.
"What do you make out of Marco Polo's book?" said the Doctor to the boys, after they had devoted a sufficient time to its perusal.
"We find it very interesting," Frank replied. "The style is quaint, and the information it contains is curious. Evidently it is a true story, and the man must have actually gone over the ground he describes, or it would never be so accurate."
"It is some time since I read it," responded Doctor Bronson, "and perhaps you had best tell me about it. By so doing you will refresh my memory, and at the same time fix the information in your own minds."
Thus encouraged, the boys proceeded to tell the story of Marco Polo to Doctor Bronson, just as though he had never heard it. The Doctor was a patient listener, and both Frank and Fred showed, by the completeness of their account, that they had thoroughly read the book.
"To begin with," said Frank, "Marco Polo was a Venetian adventurer. His father was named Nicolo Polo, and he—Marco—had an uncle named Maffeo. Marco was born in the year 1254, and six years later his father and uncle started on a journey to Constantinople and the southern part of Russia. They were merchants, and their business carried them into Central Asia, and then to Cathay, where they spent some time with the khan, or emperor, of that country."
"And what is Cathay?" said Dr. Bronson, with a smile.
"Cathay is the ancient name for China," Fred answered, "and even to-day it is sometimes called so. Do you remember how Tennyson, in one of his poems, says,
"'Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay;'
"and I am sure you once told me that the Russian name of China is 'Kitie,' with the accent on the last syllable. That is pretty near the sound of Cathay, and undoubtedly came from it."
"Quite correct," the Doctor responded; "you have a good memory both for facts and poetry."
"Kublai-Khan, the Emperor of Cathay," Frank continued, "had never before seen a gentleman from Europe. He was delighted with the Venetians, and greatly interested in the stories they told him about Europe and its countries and customs. How long they remained there we do not know, but it is certain that the emperor, Kublai-Khan, determined to send them as ambassadors to the Pope, who was then the greatest monarch of Europe. Accordingly, he wrote letters to the Pope asking him to send a large number of educated missionaries to Cathay to convert the people to Christianity. These he intrusted to the two Polos, and sent with them an officer of his own court.
THE GREAT KHAN DELIVERING A TABLET TO THE ELDER POLO BROTHERS.
(From a Miniature of the Fourteenth Century.)
"Before they started on their mission he gave them a golden tablet, upon which there was inscribed an order for them to receive everything they might desire for their comfort and convenience in the countries through which they might pass; and his last order to them was 'to bring back to him some oil of the lamp which burns on the sepulchre of our Lord at Jerusalem.' On the road the Tartar prince who accompanied them fell sick, and they were obliged to leave him behind. If the truth were known, it is quite probable he did not wish to make the journey, and was glad of an excuse for avoiding it.
ARMS OF THE POLO FAMILY.
"In 1269 the brothel's arrived at Acre, in Palestine, and found that the Pope, Clement IV., had died the year before, and no new one had been chosen. So they went to Venice to see how matters stood in that city, and to get some news of their families. Nicolo found that his wife had died during his absence, and his son Marco was a fine youth of fifteen years.
"They waited at Venice for two years; but the College of Cardinals could not agree on a new Pope, and consequently the Church was without any head to whom they could deliver their letters. Fearing that the Great Khan would be displeased at their long absence, and believe them faithless to their trust, they determined to return to him and explain the state of affairs. Accordingly, they started in 1271, taking young Marco with them, and in due time were once more at Acre. Before they left the coast for the interior, they learned that a new Pope had been chosen. The man on whom the choice fell was then in Syria, and so they were able to carry out the khan's commission, and get a reply. But he was only able to give them two priests to accompany them to Cathay, and these soon found a reason for declining to go to the strange land. So the three Polos set out alone for the dominions of the Great Khan.
NICOLO POLO, FATHER OF MARCO.
"With the letters, presents from the Pope to the khan, and the holy oil from Jerusalem, they took the route by Sivas, Mosul, and Bagdad to Hormuz, where they turned north and went through Bokhara, Persia, and by way of Kashgar, Yarkand, and Khoten. Then they went to the desert of Gobi, and, after crossing it, reached the territories of the khan near the great wall of China. They had been three years and a half on the journey, and the date of their arrival at the khan's court is supposed to be 1275.
"The khan was greatly pleased to see them, and he was especially delighted with young Marco, to whom he seemed to take very kindly. Marco, in his turn, sought to win the favor of the emperor by making himself as useful as possible; he studied the Oriental languages, and in a little while he could speak and write no less than four of them.
"The emperor soon began to employ him in the public service, and he acquitted himself so well that he was sent in charge of missions to distant countries. His first mission was to the province of Yunnan, and in going there he was obliged to pass through several other provinces. He had noticed, during his stay at court, that the emperor was very fond of hearing about strange countries and their manners and customs, and so he took good care to bring back as much information as possible. The khan complimented him for his learning, and found him a great contrast to the commissioners, who could never tell anything except the business on which they had gone.
"We don't know much about the details of his employment while he was at the court of the emperor," said Frank, "but we are told that he was for three years governor of the great city of Yangtchoo; and we also learn that he was in Tangut for a year or more, and that he went on missions to Mongolia, to Cochin China, and other regions, and commanded expeditions to the Indian seas. What his father and uncle were doing all this time we do not know, except that the evidence shows they were making themselves rich. Perhaps they were able to obtain good contracts through the influence of Marco; and if they could get a monopoly of government contracts for a few years, they would have no difficulty in piling up a large fortune.
"Thus they remained at the court of the khan for eleven years, and by-and-by they wanted to go home and enjoy their wealth. But the khan would not listen to it, and perhaps they would never have been heard of again if it had not been for an accident.
"Arghun-Khan of Persia, a great-nephew of Kublai-Khan, had lost his wife, and her dying injunction was that her place should be filled by a lady of her own kin—the Mongol tribe of Bayaut. An embassy came to Kublai's court with the request, and the choice fell on Lady Kukachin, who is described as a most beautiful woman. The overland road to Persia was considered dangerous, and it was determined to send her by sea. Accordingly, the khan fitted out an expedition in fine style, and, as the Venetians were well acquainted with navigation, while the Tartars were ignorant of it, the khan concluded to send the Polos with the fleet. He was reluctant to let them go; but having once determined to do so, he gave them a great many fine presents, and intrusted them with messages to the various sovereigns of Europe, including the King of England. They appear to have sailed from the Port of Zayton in the early part of 1292. The voyage was long and unfortunate, and the greater part of the embassy and suite perished on the way. The lady and the three Venetians arrived safely in Persia, where it was found that her intended husband had died, and so she was compelled to marry his son.
PORTRAIT OF KUBLAI-KHAN.
(From a Chinese engraving.)
"As soon as their mission had ended, the Polos proceeded to Venice, which they reached in the year 1295. Their long absence had caused them to be well-nigh forgotten, and very few people could be found who remembered anything about the Polos. They had changed much in their complexions, had almost forgotten their own language; all their utterances had a decidedly Tartar accent; and they were so travel-stained and shabby that they had difficulty in being received in their own house, which was now occupied by relatives.
"In order to establish their identity, the wanderers invited their relatives to a grand banquet. When the time came for sitting down at table, the three appeared in robes of crimson satin; a little later they exchanged these for robes of crimson damask, and these again for the richest velvet of the same color. Afterwards they dressed in clothing like that of the rest of the company, and each of the crimson robes, as soon as it was laid aside, was cut up and given to the servants.
"Just as the dinner was breaking up, Marco rose from the table and retired for a moment. When he returned, he brought the shabby dresses they had worn on their arrival, and the three Polos then went to work with knives to rip open these apparently worthless garments. As they cut away the seams, showers of great diamonds of the purest water, and also emeralds, pearls, rubies, sapphires, and carbuncles, fell on the table.
"There could be no further doubt about the relationship; everybody at table was ready to swear that he was father, son, and brother all at once to any of the trio. Relatives poured in on them in great numbers, and all Venice rushed to do them honor. They were appointed to offices of high trust, and the young men of Venice came to hear Marco tell of the wonders he had seen in his long absence. They were the most popular men in the city, and received more invitations to dinner than they could accept.
"There is a tradition that the wife of one of the Polos one day gave a beggar an old coat belonging to her husband, as she considered it too shabby for him to wear any longer. When he asked for it the next day, in order to put away the jewels it contained, she told him she had given it to a poor man whom she did not know. The tradition says, 'He went to the Bridge of Rialto, and stood there turning a wheel, to no apparent purpose, but as if he were a madman; and to all who crowded around to see what prank was this, and asked him why he did it, he answered, "He'll come, if God pleases." So, after two or three days, he recognized his old coat on the back of one of those who came to stare at his mad proceeding, and got it back again.
MARCO POLO'S GALLEY IN BATTLE.
"Soon after his return, an expedition was sent from Venice against Genoa, and Marco was placed in command of one of the ships or galleys. A great battle was fought; the Venetians were defeated; Marco was captured, placed in irons, and lodged in a prison at Genoa. While in captivity, he told the story of his travels to a fellow-prisoner named Rusticiano or Rustichello, of Pisa, and the latter committed it to writing. It was fortunate for us, though not so for him, that Marco Polo was in prison, as otherwise we might never have had an account of his travels. After his release, he led a quiet life at Venice, and seems to have died not far from the year 1325. He was buried in the Church of San Lorenzo; but all trace of his tomb was lost when that edifice was rebuilt.
"Now it is Fred's turn," said Frank; "I have told the history of Marco Polo, and shown why and how he went to the East; Fred will give you an account of what the great traveller saw in his absence from Europe of nearly twenty years."
Fred drew his note-book from his pocket and proceeded to his share of the entertainment.
"Marco Polo's work," said Fred, "consists of four divisions or books and a prologue. The prologue opens as follows:
"'Great princes, emperors, and kings, dukes and marquises, counts, knights, and burgesses, and people of all degrees, who desire to get knowledge of the various races of mankind, and of the diversities of the sundry regions of the world, take this book and cause it to be read to you. For ye shall find therein all kinds of wonderful things, and the divers histories of the great Hermenia, and of Persia, and of the land of the Tartars, and of India, and of many another country of which our book doth speak particularly, and in regular succession, according to the description of Messer Marco Polo, a wise and noble citizen of Venice, as he saw them with his own eyes. Some things, indeed, there be therein which he beheld not; but these he heard from men of credit and veracity. And we shall set down things seen as seen, and things heard as heard only, so that no jot of falsehood may mar the truth of our book; and that all who read it or hear it read may put full faith in the truth of all its contents.'
"It is hardly worth while to read the whole prologue to you," Fred remarked, "as it is long, and we can only give a general glance at the contents of the whole work. A great many editions of the travels of Marco Polo have been published; the most valuable of all is the latest, which is by Colonel Yule, an English officer who spent a long time in India. He has made a careful study of the subject, and his work, with explanatory notes, is as complete as years of labor could make it. Indeed, there are more pages taken up with the explanatory notes than with the original text of Marco Polo.
"The four divisions or books give an account of the various countries he visited in his years of wandering, and of the wonderful sights he beheld. The route he followed can be traced by geographers without difficulty, and the cities he visited have most of them been identified. Many have had their names changed, and some have disappeared altogether, so that in a few instances the localities are in dispute. But, taken as a whole, the story is a truthful one, and shows Marco Polo to have been the greatest traveller of his time.
"Some of the stories that seem at first to be the wildest fiction are known to be founded in fact, if not literally correct. In speaking of Syria, he says: 'There is a great lake at the foot of a mountain, and in this lake are found no fish, great or small, throughout the whole year till Lent comes. On the first day of Lent they find in it the finest fish in the world, and great store, too, thereof; and these continue to be found till Easter-eve. After that they are found no more till Lent comes round again; and so 'tis every year.'
"Colonel Yule is unable to locate the particular lake mentioned, but says there are several lakes in different parts of the East that are deserted by the fish for certain periods of the year. It would not be at all strange if such were the case, and a very little exaggeration of the story would make the fish appear in Lent, and go away at other times.
ALAU SHUTS UP THE CALIPH OF BAUDAS IN HIS TREASURE-TOWER.
"While describing Baudas—the modern Bagdad—he tells how an army, under Prince Alau, captured the city, and found the greatest accumulation of treasure that ever was known. The prince was enraged at seeing so much wealth, and asked the caliph why he did not take the money to hire soldiers to defend the city. 'The caliph,' says Marco, 'wist not what to answer, and said never a word. So the prince continued, "Now then, caliph, since I see what a love thou hast borne thy treasure, I will e'en give it thee to eat." So he shut the caliph up in the treasure-tower, and bade that neither meat nor drink should be given him, saying, "Now, caliph, eat of thy treasure as much as thou wilt, since thou art so fond of it, for never shalt thou have aught else to eat!"'
"So the caliph lingered four days in the tower, and then died. The story has been used by several poets both in England and America, and it has been made the basis of an Eastern romance.
"Some of the more fanciful stories he tells are about the men of Lambri, and of Angamanain. Here is what he says of the former:
"'Now you must know that in this kingdom of Lambri there are men with tails; these tails are of a palm in length, and have no hair on them. These people live in the mountains, and are a kind of wild men. Their tails are about the thickness of a dog's. There are also plenty of unicorns in the country, and abundance of game in birds and beasts.'
"The story is not very definite," Frank suggested, "as there is a great difference in the size of dogs' tails. The range from a terrier or pug to a mastiff or a Siberian blood-hound is pretty wide. It reminds me of the stone thrown at a man, that was described by a witness as about the size of a piece of chalk."
"By the island of Angamanain," Fred continued, "Polo probably meant the Andaman Islands. Here is what he says of them:
DOG-HEADED MEN OF ANGAMANAIN.
"'The people are without a king, and are idolaters, and no better than wild beasts. And I assure you that all the men of this island of Angamanain have heads like dogs, and teeth and eyes likewise! In fact, in the face they are just like big mastiff dogs! They have a quantity of spices; but they are a most cruel generation, and eat everybody they can catch, if not of their own race. They live on flesh and rice and milk, and have fruits different from ours.'
"Now, the fact is," Fred explained, "that the natives of the Andaman Islands have a bad reputation. Down to the present time they have been repeatedly charged with murdering the crews of ships that were wrecked there; and it is only recently that their cannibalism has been denied. They are very black, and not at all handsome in face or figure; and out of these facts I suppose the story came that they had heads like dogs.
"He describes a fountain in the kingdom of Mosul, 'from which oil springs in great abundance, insomuch that a hundred ship loads might be taken from it at one time. This oil is not good to use with food, but 'tis good to burn, and is also used to anoint camels that have the mange.' Evidently they had petroleum in Asia six hundred years ago, as we have it in America to-day, and thought we had made a new discovery.
"He speaks of oxen 'that are all over white as snow, and very large and handsome. When they are to be loaded they kneel like the camel; once the load is adjusted, they rise. Then there are sheep as big as asses; and their tails are so large and fat that one tail shall weigh more than thirty pounds. They are fine fat beasts, and afford capital mutton.' These fat-tailed sheep are known in Asia and Africa, and the weight he gives is said not to be excessive.
"In one place there is an account of the posting system of the Great Khan of Tartary, which seems to have been more perfect than the posting system of Europe at the same date. From Kambaluc, the capital—now known as Peking—the roads branched in all directions, and 'each road,' says Marco, 'is known by the name of the province to which it leads. And the messengers of the emperor, in travelling from Kambaluc, be the road whichsoever they will, find at every twenty-five miles of the journey a station which they call Yamb, or, as we would say, the Post-horse-house. And at each of those stations used by the messengers there is a large and handsome building for them to put up at, in which they find all the rooms furnished with fine beds, and all other necessary articles in rich silk, and where they are provided with everything they can want. If even a king were to arrive at one of these, he would find himself well lodged. At some of these stations there shall be posted more than 400 horses, standing ready for the use of messengers; and at some 200, according to the requirements.... There are more than 300,000 kept at all these posts, and more than 10,000 great buildings for the use of messengers.'"
"How much China has declined since the days of Marco Polo," Frank remarked. "The great buildings and the silk beds do not exist; and as for the horses, we were unable to find them at the posting-stations, or even to find any stations where they might be kept."
Fred took breath during this interruption, and then went on with the story of what Marco Polo claimed to have seen.
MEDIÆVAL TARTAR HUTS AND WAGONS.
"'The houses of the Tartars,' says Marco, 'are made of wands covered with felt. These are carried along with them whithersoever they go. They also have wagons covered with black felt so efficaciously that no rain can get in. These are drawn by oxen and camels, and the women and children travel in them. They eat all kinds of flesh, including horses and dogs and Pharaoh's rats. Their drink is mares' milk.' This account is confirmed by other writers; and the houses of the Tartars are made to-day as Polo describes, though they are not drawn about on wheels. One ancient writer says that he measured one of the Tartar wagons, and found that the wheels were twenty feet apart, and it was drawn by twenty-two oxen, eleven abreast.
THE ROC, FROM A PERSIAN DRAWING.
"He has a good deal to say," Fred continued, "about the famous bird known as the roc, or rukh. He does not claim to have seen one of these birds, but was informed by persons who had done so. According to his account, 'It was for all the world like an eagle, but one, indeed, of enormous size; so big, in fact, that its wings covered an extent of thirty paces, and its quills were twelve paces long, and thick in proportion; and it is so strong that it will seize an elephant in its talons and carry him up in the air and drop him, so that he is smashed to pieces; having so killed him, the bird swoops down on him and eats him at leisure.'
ROC'S EGG, NOW IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
"In a note explaining this story, Colonel Yule says there was once a bird in Madagascar, where Polo places the roc, that was much larger than any known bird of the present day. Its eggs have been found in a fossil state, and one of them is preserved in the British Museum. It measures thirteen and a quarter by six and a half inches (length and width), and the capacity of the shell is nearly three and a half gallons. It was undoubtedly from this bird that the fable of the roc arose."
Frank ventured to ask Fred if he had found from Marco Polo's book what kind of money was used in China at the time he visited that country.
CHINESE BANK-NOTE OF THE MING DYNASTY.
"I am just coming to that," Fred answered. "Polo says that the great emperor, Kublai-Khan, was a wonderful man. 'He transformed the bark of the mulberry-tree into something resembling sheets of paper, and these into money, which cost him nothing at all, so that you might say he had the secret of alchemy to perfection. And these pieces of paper he made to pass current universally, over all his kingdoms and provinces and territories, and whithersoever his sovereignty extended; and nobody, however important he thought himself, dared to refuse them on pain of death."
"History repeats itself," said Doctor Bronson; "for many a modern government has made the same laws in order to compel the circulation of its promises to pay."
"And with the same result," Fred responded; "for we learn farther on from Marco Polo that, in spite of the death penalty, the legal-tender issue of the Great Khan was only worth half its nominal value in silver; and the more money he issued, the greater was the depreciation. But the khan was not the inventor of paper-money, for it was known at least four centuries before his time. Its origin is disputed, but the probabilities are that it came from the East.
"Some of the stories that are told about supernatural appearances are very interesting," continued Fred. "In the desert of Gobi, Polo says that the traveller who lags behind his party at night will hear spirits talking, and will suppose them to be his comrades. Sometimes the spirits will call him by name, and thus shall a traveller oft-times be led astray, so that he never finds his party; and in this way many have perished. And sometimes you shall hear the sound of a variety of musical instruments, and still more commonly the sound of drums.
"He says, in another place, 'When the Great Khan, seated on a platform some eight cubits above the pavement, desires to drink, cups filled with wine are moved from a buffet in the centre of the hall, a distance of ten paces, and present themselves to the emperor without being touched by anybody.'
CHINESE CONJURING EXTRAORDINARY.
"Polo describes other magical performances, some of which are partially explained by Colonel Yule. Another traveller relates that a juggler performed some remarkable tricks in his presence; and among them is the following: 'He took a wooden ball with several holes in it, through which loose thongs were passed, and, laying hold of one of these, slung it into the air. It went so high that we lost sight of it altogether. There now remained only a little of the end of a thong in the conjurer's hand, and he desired one of the boys who assisted him to lay hold of it and mount. He did so, climbing by the thong, and we lost sight of him! The conjurer then called to him three times; but getting no answer, he snatched up a knife as if in a great rage, laid hold of the thong, and disappeared also. By-and-by he threw down one of the boy's hands; then a foot; then the other hand, and then the other foot; then the trunk; and, last of all, the head. Then he came down himself, all puffing and panting, and, with his clothes all bloody, kissed the ground, and said something in Chinese. Then he took the lad's limbs, laid them together, gave a kick, when, presto! there was the boy, who got up and stood before us.'"
"The Indian jugglers are said to do the same trick, or one very much like it," said Doctor Bronson. "I have read a description of one of their performances, in which they took a long chain and threw one end of it in the air, where it remained as if fastened to something. A dog was then brought forward, and ran up the chain and disappeared in the air. In the same way a hog, a panther, a lion, and a tiger were sent up the chain one after the other, and all disappeared at its upper end. Finally they took down the chain, rolled it up and put it in a bag, no one being able to discover how the trick was performed."
"We must come to a stop now," said Fred, "though we haven't heard a tenth part of the strange things in Marco Polo's story of his travels. His account of the Court of Kublai-Khan would take a long time to tell, and perhaps you would get tired of it before I came to the end. So, if you want to know more, you must do as I have done—read for yourself."
The interesting session of the party over the travels of the famous Venetian were brought to a close. The Doctor complimented the boys on the excellent work they had done in making a condensed account of the book, and said he was so pleased with them that he would give them a similar piece of employment whenever the opportunity occurred.
"It is a capital way," said Fred, "to fix in mind what we have read. I find that I read with greater care when I know I must make a summary of a book than if I am to throw it down when through and think no more of it. I'm very glad we had to go through Marco Polo's history in this way."
"And I too," Frank added. "But it is what we used to dislike so much at school."
"What was that?" Fred asked.
"Why, writing compositions, to be sure," Frank responded. "Don't you remember how we used to detest it?"
"Of course I do," was the answer; "but we always did it without an object. The teacher told us to write something about 'spring,' or 'the beauties of nature,' or some other subject that was not at all definite. Now if he had given us an interesting book to read, and said he wanted us to do with it as we have done with this, we should have 'written a composition' with some relish."
"It will be eight bells soon," the captain interrupted, "and if you want to see me take the sun you had better come forward."
CAPTAIN CLANCHY AT WORK.
The boys had familiarized themselves with the process of finding a ship's position; but anything at sea that varies the monotony is always welcome. So they went forward with Captain Clanchy, and stood by the rail till that brief performance was ended. Then they retired to the cabin, and watched the operation of working up the steamer's position; and by the time this was over, the steward announced that dinner was ready.
COME TO DINNER!
[CHAPTER VIII.]
ARRIVAL IN SIAM.—FIRST DAY IN BANGKOK.
The boys found a novel way of taking fresh-water baths during their voyage from Saigon to Bangkok. Nearly every day there was a heavy shower of rain, and sometimes two or three showers in the course of twenty-four hours. The rain came literally in torrents; it poured as though great gates had been suddenly opened in the sky, to allow the passage of the water by dozens of barrels at a time. Neither Frank nor Fred had ever seen the rain fall so fast; the Doctor assured them that showers of this kind were very common in the tropics, especially during the change of the monsoons.
A NATURAL SHOWER-BATH.
Whenever the clouds indicated a coming shower, the boys generally went to the cabin and soon appeared in their bathing-suits. Covering their heads with straw hats, to protect them from the pelting of the great drops, they would sit in the rain and enjoy the luxury of the earliest form of shower-bath ever known. One night, when they were sleeping on deck, they were suddenly awakened by the pouring of the rain in their faces, and, before they could gather their clothing and escape to shelter, they were treated to a bath they had not bargained for. It is one of the inconveniences of sleeping on deck in the tropics that you are liable to have your slumbers disturbed in this way, just as you are dreaming of pleasant things, and in no mood for waking.
Though they were not in sight of land, our friends realized that they were in a comparatively small body of water, and not in the open ocean. The swell and heaving of the Atlantic and Pacific waves were altogether absent; though the steamer was a diminutive one in comparison with the great ships on which they had travelled hitherto, she rolled and pitched very little, and sometimes her motion was as steady as though she was navigating a river. The Gulf of Siam does not occupy a large place on the map, and for a great part of the year it is as peaceful as a lake. The captain told them that it was rarely disturbed by typhoons or severe gales, and was about five hundred miles long by two hundred and fifty in width.
FLYING-FISH.
Porpoises and flying-fish appeared occasionally, and their lively leaps from the water were a source of much amusement to the youths.
The first indication of their approach to the coast of Siam was the appearance of a dark line on the northern horizon. As they steamed on, this line developed into a fringe of tropical trees; but before they could make anything more of it than the merest fringe, the steamer came to anchor. As they were still a long way from land, the boys could not understand the reason for stopping, and Fred ventured to ask the captain why they did not go on.
"The principal reason," the captain answered, "is because we can't. The approach to the river is very shallow, and our steamer cannot cross the bar till high-tide. We must wait here till the tide serves, and we have a pilot to take us in."
The pilot came to the ship soon after they anchored, and in a few hours he announced that it was time to move on. The anchor was lifted, and the Danube steamed slowly onward towards the shore.
Very soon it was apparent to the boys that the waters along this part of the coast were very shallow, as the steamer stirred the mud from the bottom and left a dirty streak behind her. The bar at the mouth of the Menam prevents the passage of large ships, and there was a fleet of half a dozen or more lying outside and receiving their cargo from lighters. Vessels drawing less than fifteen feet can go up without difficulty; and once they have passed the bar, there is no trouble in proceeding on to Bangkok.
"I wonder if that is Bangkok?" said Fred, as he pointed to a conical tower that rose just ahead of them, and apparently a short distance above the mouth of the river.
"Oh no," the captain replied, "that is not Bangkok at all. The city is thirty miles up the river, and what you see now is Paknam. We shall stop in front of it to get the permit from the custom-house to allow us to proceed up the river.
VIEW NEAR PAKNAM.
"The tower that you see is a temple on a small island opposite Paknam. It is used on festival days, and once in awhile the king comes down here to worship. On such occasions they have boat-races, and a good time generally; some of the boats are rowed entirely by girls, and the sport is very exciting."
A boat came from the custom-house, and an officer mounted to the deck of the steamer. His visit was a brief one, as the Danube was a regular visitor at the port, and did not require any unusual formalities. After a short delay, the steamer moved on under charge of the pilot, though the captain remained on the bridge and kept a sharp watch over the movements of his vessel. It is a curious feature of maritime law that when a ship is in charge of a pilot her captain's authority ceases; but in case of accident he comes in for a liberal share of censure.
The boys found that the Menam was as crooked as the Mekong, and not unlike the latter in its general features. The channel appeared to be free of sand-bars or other impediments to navigation, though some of the bends of the stream were rather short for a large ship to turn in with ease. At one place there was a channel or canal that saved a great distance for small boats; but it was impracticable for the Danube, which was obliged to follow the winding of the river. A little tow-boat entered this canal just as they passed the entrance; she steamed leisurely through, and as the Danube rounded the bend Frank discovered that the tow-boat was several miles ahead of them.
NATIVE HUT ON THE MENAM RIVER.
The river was full of native boats, some going in one direction and some in another. Now and then a house was visible in the dense foliage, and there was an occasional cluster of dwellings large enough to be called a village. Many of the houses were built so that a platform in front overhung the water; and the whole structure was on piles, in order to form a refuge against snakes and wild beasts, and also to secure the inhabitants against being suddenly driven out by an inundation.
But what impressed the young travellers more than anything else was the richness of the tropical vegetation along the banks of the river. Here were palms in great variety, and many huge trees whose names were unknown to them; and there was a dense growth of underbrush, through which it would be very difficult for a man to penetrate unless armed with a hatchet, and not at all easy even then. Many of the trees were covered with creeping and climbing plants, so that not a particle of the surface or foliage of the original tree could be seen, and very often the burden of parasites was so great that the trees had fallen beneath it.
"I have read," said Frank, "about the vines that destroyed a tree, but have never fairly seen an instance of it till now."
"Nor I either," Fred responded. "Look at that fine tree that has been quite broken down by the weight of the plants that cling to it. And observe, too, the bright blossoms that the vine has spread out, as if it was exulting over the destruction it had caused."
Some of the creeping vines had a scarlet flower of a very gaudy pattern, and it seemed as if it was their season for blooming, as the vines in several instances were completely covered with blossoms.
A VILLAGE PATHWAY IN SIAM.
Now and then there were little openings in the forest that looked like pathways. The Doctor told his young companions that these paths undoubtedly led to villages or single houses that were hid away in the dense foliage. The Doctor's belief was confirmed by the glimpse of an occasional figure among the trees, and by dusky faces that contemplated the steadily moving steamer.
But it was not all a tropical forest with occasional villages. There were sugar plantations, some of them of considerable extent; and there were rice-fields where dozens and dozens of men were at work. Frank contemplated a lot of these laborers with the captain's glass, and remarked that the Siamese resembled the Chinese so much that it was impossible to distinguish between them. The Doctor laughed, and then gave this explanation:
"The men that you see are Chinese, and not the people of Siam. Nearly all these rice and sugar plantations employ Chinese laborers; and of the five millions of people in Siam not less than two millions are Chinese. They come here, just as they go to America or to Australia, in search of employment; and, though the wages are low, they are quite content. If you could go to every part of Siam you would hardly ever be out of sight of the Chinese, as they are scattered everywhere through the kingdom. There, now, we will have a good view of some of these laborers."
CHINESE FIELD-LABORERS.
As he spoke, the steamer swung quite close to the bank, where there was a group of laborers evidently just ready to depart for the rice-field. Some were squatted, and some were standing; some were fully and some only partially clothed; and all appeared as though they had the good digestion that comes from hard work. It did not need a long study of the assemblage to convince our friends that the men were exactly like those they had seen in Canton and Hong-kong, and the captain told them that probably every one of the crowd was from the Quang-Tung Province of China.
GENERAL VIEW OF BANGKOK.
They were still in the midst of cocoa and other tropical trees, when the captain told them they were at Bangkok. There was a saw-mill and a dock-yard among the trees on one side of the river, and farther on was a large house, with an open space of an acre or more between it and the river. They had reached what may be called the foreign portion of the city; the native part is nearly three miles farther on, and quite concealed by a bend in the stream.
We will see what the boys had to say of Bangkok in their letters to friends at home. Here is what Frank wrote:
"My dear Mother,—We had a charming voyage from Saigon to this port. The weather was fine, and we amused ourselves in various ways; one thing we did was to read up the story of Marco Polo's travels six hundred years ago, and then tell it over to the Doctor. Sometimes it was so hot that we slept on deck, and when it was raining hard we used to go out in our bathing-suits and have a shower-bath that was simply perfect. We had a picturesque ride up the Menam to this city; and we have seen lots of curious things since we landed.
"We came ashore with the captain, and he took us at once to the only hotel in the place. It is a funny sort of a hotel, as you have to go out-of-doors to pass from the dining-room to the sleeping-rooms and the parlor, where we sit when we want to rest. The rooms are not more than ten feet square, and I don't think Fred's will measure as much as that. I made the remark that you couldn't swing a cat around there; and the landlord said he had no cat, and even if he had one he didn't want to swing her anyway. You ought to see the landlord; he is a German, and as jolly as you could wish. He was formerly a sea-captain, and everybody calls him 'Captain Salje.' He must weigh pretty nearly three hundred pounds, and when he laughs he shakes all over. He speaks English as well as German, and he also speaks the language of the country and that of Java, where he lived a long time. When things don't get along well in the kitchen, he goes in among his servants, and you hear his voice ringing out all over the house. He is a capital landlord, and we like his table better than that of any hotel we have seen since we left San Francisco.
IN THE FOREIGN PART OF BANGKOK.
"The hotel stands on the bank of the river, and you can step from a boat directly to the veranda of the house. The river is the Broadway of Bangkok, and all the travelling to and fro, or the greater part of it, is done on the water. In this part of Bangkok is where the foreigners live, and their houses are scattered along the banks for at least a mile. Nobody wants to live where he would be without a front on the river, as it would be just like living off from the street in an American city. The merchants have their warehouses so that goods can be rolled from boats directly inside the doors; but the houses where people live are set back a little, and have a good large yard in front and all around them. They have plenty of trees in the yards, and the houses look very pretty; and as the verandas are wide, there is an abundance of shade. Most of the houses are of two stories, and built of stuccoed brick; and a good many of the floors are of brick or stone. Wood is not very durable in this climate, as the air is moist and rots it; and, besides, they have certain kinds of insects that eat it full of holes, and make it turn to powder. Some woods decay much faster than others, and they have one kind called teak, that the insects never attack.
"As I look from the veranda where I am writing I can see half a dozen ships anchored in the river below here, and as many more up above. Most of them belong to Siam, as we can see by the flag; and there are two or three German ships, one English, and one American. The Siamese flag is red, and has a white elephant on it; we are in the country of the White Elephant, and don't intend leaving until we have seen the sacred beast. I am told that the white elephants at the king's palace have fine stables and lots of attendants, and that they are worshipped and petted till they are quite spoiled in their dispositions.
"We have hired a boat by the day, and it is to be kept for our use as long as we stay here; just as we might keep a carriage in another country. There is a little cabin where you have to stoop as you go in; and there are cushioned seats for four persons, and windows with sliding lattices all around. It takes four men to row it—two on the bow, and two on the stern—and they all row with their faces the way the boat is going. The boat is quite comfortable, and we enjoy it very much.
"The people make use of the river for all sorts of business. It is the great highway for transporting merchandise, and for promenading on the water; and it is the place where people go on shopping excursions. A great many of the houses are built on rafts of bamboo-poles, and they rise and fall with the tide. The raft is somewhat larger than the house, and forms a platform all around it; and when you want to go in at the front of a house, you have only to bring your boat along-side the raft and step off. The bamboo seems almost to have been designed by nature for the purpose of making these rafts. You know it is hollow, and very light, and that it has joints at regular intervals. Now each joint forms a water-tight compartment, and the wood will resist the water for a very long time, so that a bamboo raft has no chance of sinking. Perhaps it was the bamboo that gave the Chinese the idea of building ships in water-tight compartments, as Marco Polo says they did six hundred years ago. Who knows?
"As you go along the river you see the fronts of the houses open towards the water, and if they have anything to sell it is put where it can be seen, exactly as it would be in a shop on Broadway. The houses are divided generally into only two rooms—the men occupying one, and the women the other; and the Siamese rarely make houses of more than one story. The reason is that they wish to avoid having anybody walking over their heads, which is considered an indignity. It is said that when the city was first built along the banks of the river there was a great deal of cholera, on account of the bad drainage, and many people died. The king then gave orders for the people to build on the river itself, which would make the drainage perfect, and thus improve the public health. The order was obeyed, and from it we find the floating houses that seem so curious to us. There are not far from fifteen thousand of these houses and shops, and they are strung along on both sides of the river for several miles, altogether. Then there are many houses built on piles, to overhang the water, just like those we described at Saigon.
"One of the books we have with us tells us that Bangkok is called 'The Venice of the East,' and I can easily understand why. Venice is full of canals, as you know, and so is Bangkok. They run off from the river in all directions, and you can go almost anywhere by them when the tide is up. This is why nearly everybody has a boat, as it would be difficult to go about without one. You see boats of all sizes, from a little dug-out, just large enough for one person—and a small one at that—up to the great house-boat, or barge, that will hold twenty or more. The people spend a good deal of their time on the water, and very often in it; for they swim like otters, and are not at all disturbed when one of their boats overturns with them. This afternoon, when we were out on the river, a steamboat passed us. It did us no harm, though we tossed around for a moment; but there was a small skiff close by that was filled with water by the swell from the steamer. Two boys were in it, and as the skiff went down under them, they took hold of it with their hands and swam to the shore. They soon had the water out of it, and paddled off as merrily as ever.
"Where the largest of the canals branches off there is a pretty dense collection of houses, and this continues for quite a distance. The streets are irregular, and not very wide or clean; perhaps the most of the people living in this quarter are Chinese, and they are not very particular about dirt. Most of the shops are kept by Chinese, and they have a great number of gambling-houses, for which they pay a fixed sum to the government. Gambling is a monopoly, and so is the sale of intoxicating spirits; the licenses are sold by the government, just as an American city gives a man a license to sell liquor when he pays the sum agreed on. The Chinese that come here are just as great gamblers as they are at home, and they are just as fond of smoking opium.
"The city is said to contain half a million inhabitants, and it is little more than a hundred years old. It was founded in 1769, when the Siamese capital (Ayuthia) was captured and plundered by the Burmese. The king lives here, and the royal palace is well worth seeing. We are going there to-morrow, or perhaps next day, and we are going to see some curious temples. There are lots of temples in Bangkok, and the city contains not less than twenty thousand priests of the Buddhist religion. We will tell you more about the priests and the temples in another letter."
A SIAMESE PRIEST.
[CHAPTER IX.]
TEMPLES AT BANGKOK.—THE FOUNDER OF BUDDHISM.
A letter from Fred was in the same mail with Frank's. The dutiful boy remembered his mother, and wrote as follows:
"Frank has told all about our arrival in Bangkok, and what we saw on our first day in the city. I know you will hand our letters around for both families to read, and so I will try to avoid repeating what he has said.
"One of the first things we wanted to see was the temples, for which Bangkok is famous. You must know that Siam is a country where the Buddhist religion has a very strong hold; and the king is supposed to be the defender of the ancient faith. A large part of the annual revenue of the country is expended in the repair of the temples now in existence, or the construction of new ones; and also in processions and other religious ceremonies. We are fortunate in coming here at the season of the year when the king goes to make his visits to all the temples; and, as there are many of them in the city, he has enough to do for two or three weeks. We have seen one of these processions, and expect to see more: as the one we have seen is not the grandest of them, I will keep the description of this part of our sights in Bangkok for another letter.
BIRDS-EYE VIEW OF BANGKOK.
"The first temple we went to was the one known as Wat Seh Kate. It has the general appearance of a pyramid, and is about two hundred and fifty feet high, with a winding pathway that leads to the top. From the platform, on the summit, there is a fine view of Bangkok, or rather the form of the city can be seen, though the most of the houses are concealed by the trees. It is a curious sight, as the trees are nearly all tropical ones, and wherever you look you see palms in some form or other, with their long leaves bending in the wind, and their stems rising, often as straight as arrows, for fifty or a hundred feet. Off in the distance there are rice-fields, some of them of great extent; and close below you is a bewildering mass of temples, and palaces, and pagodas, with the river shining here and there, and forming a sharp contrast to the dark green of the foliage. Some of the spires of the temples look as pointed as needles; and though you might think they would fall down with the first high wind, I am told they have stood for a long time, and are apparently as firm as ever.
"I enclose a picture representing a view from one of the temples, so that you can see what Bangkok is like.
"Some foreigners have been talking of proposing to the government to convert this temple into a reservoir for water, which would be brought into the city by an aqueduct, just as water is supplied to New York and other American cities. Wouldn't that be a novel idea? The city has no aqueduct whatever, but all the water that the people use must be taken from the river or caught in cisterns during the rainy season.
TEMPLE OF WAT CHANG.
"The temple is not yet finished, and therefore the view from the top is the most interesting thing about it. On the other side of the river is another remarkable temple known as Wat Chang; it stands in a large enclosure, perhaps fifteen or twenty acres in extent, and this enclosure contains small gardens, the houses of the priests, and a great quantity of stone statues, some of them very grotesque in character. There are some nice fish-ponds full of fish; and in two or three places we saw grottoes of stone and brick that were very pretty. I should think that the priests had considerable taste, and were not the lazy fellows one often finds around these temples. Perhaps they did not do the work themselves, but only laid it out for others; even if that is the case, they deserve some credit for their good taste.
"The general shape of Wat Chang is that of a bell; and there is a spire at the top that would make a very good handle, if some one could be found large and strong enough to take it up and ring it. Doctor Bronson guessed that the building was two hundred and fifty feet high, and about the same in diameter; it is built of brick, and the outside is covered with plaster, which was stuck full, while it was moist, with all sorts of curious things. These include plates, and cups and saucers, and all manner of dishes with as many colors as the rainbow, and arranged into a mosaic that forms figures of animals, fruits, flowers, and other things, some of them hideous and unnatural. As you might suppose would be the case in the Land of the White Elephant, the largest animal that we know of is frequently represented. Sometimes he has only one head, as he has in actual life; but occasionally they give him three heads, which the Doctor says is to symbolize the Buddhistic Trinity. Besides these mosaics, there are other elephants in the form of statues, which are set in niches half-way to the summit. The sun was shining brightly when we visited this temple, and at every step the rays were flashed into our eyes till they almost ached with pain.
TEMPLE OF THE SLEEPING IDOL.
"We went to the 'Temple of the Sleeping Idol,' which is one of the wonders of Bangkok. It is not a great ways from the royal palace, and gets its name from the fact that there is a statue of Buddha in a horizontal position that fills the most of the interior of the building. The figure is one hundred and sixty feet long, and lies on its side; the soles of the feet are sixteen feet long, and each of them is inlaid with mother-of-pearl as delicately as though it was a finger-ring. The figures represented by this inlaid work are entirely fruits and flowers; Doctor Bronson says the fable is that fruits and flowers sprung from the earth wherever Buddha planted his footsteps. The figure of Buddha is built of brick, and then heavily gilded, so that you might easily suppose it was of gold. When I tell you that the arm at the elbow is six feet in diameter, you will get an idea of the greatness of the work.
"The Sleeping Idol is not the only wonder of this temple. There are nearly a thousand other idols there, most of them of life size, and they are so thickly packed as to make you think they would be liable to get in each other's way. The temple itself is about two hundred feet long, and has a high roof with sharp peaks at the ends, and three stages rising one above another. The eaves are supported by tall columns, and thus quite a veranda is formed between them and the doors of the building; and there is a high wall around the temple, so that it would not be easy to get in without permission. The enclosure contains the houses of the priests, and some small pagodas and temples; and the priests evidently have an eye to business, as they would not open the doors till we had paid a tical for each person of our party. The tical is the Siamese coin in which everything is reckoned; it is worth about sixty cents of our money, and consequently the price of admission to the temple seemed rather dear to us.
BRASS IDOL IN A TEMPLE.
"There is another temple that has a statue of brass nearly fifty feet high, and, like most of the statues, it is intended to represent the divine Buddha. It is in a sitting posture, with the legs crossed, and the pedestal on which it sits is of the same material, and delicately ornamented. In front of the altar there are cups and flower-vases in great variety—some of brass, others of copper, and others again of bronze thickly covered with gold. Offerings of fruit and flowers were lying on the altar, and on each side of the figure of Buddha there was the statue of a priest, standing erect, and with his hands folded in the attitude of prayer. We could not help admiring the beauty of the work, and regretting that so much money and labor had been devoted to the worship of a heathen god. The temple of the Sleeping Idol is said to have cost not less than a million of dollars, and probably ten millions would not cover the expense of the temples within half a mile of the royal palace, to say nothing of the others in the city.
"The Chinese that live in Bangkok have a great many temples of their own, but none of them are as fine as the Siamese ones. The temples that the Chinese build must be paid for out of their own contributions; while those of the Siamese are erected by the government, and the priests that take care of them have an official character. There were formerly thirty or forty thousand priests in Bangkok: they were so numerous that the father of the present king determined to compel them to work for a living, and so he took away the government support and turned them out. For a few years after he did so they were not very numerous; but they have gradually increased, until their number is now reckoned at twenty thousand. They can be recognized by their yellow robes, and they have their heads shaved as smooth as door-knobs. They live about the temples, and every morning they go around begging.
"This morning we started out early, in order to see the priests on their begging missions; and it was a curious sight, you may believe.
"Each begging priest has a boat, and generally a boy to paddle it. In front of the priest there is a basket with a cover, and as the boat is rowed up to a house the priest says not a word, but raises the cover of the basket. On the platform in front of the door there is a kettle of freshly boiled rice, and somebody, generally a woman, lifts out a quart or so of the rice with a ladle and pours it into the basket. When the operation is completed, the priest moves on; he never says 'Thank you,' and the giver never speaks. If another priest comes a moment after, he gets the same quantity, and the same silence is preserved. Charity is enjoined by the Buddhist religion, and what is given is given from a sense of religious duty. Captain Salje says that nobody need starve in Bangkok, as it is the privilege of every one to go to the temples and be fed. The priests receive from the people, and are expected in turn to give to those that need. But if you went to the temples you would get nothing more than boiled rice, with an occasional fish; and, as I should tire of those things in a short time, I don't think either Frank or myself will become a mendicant in the capital of Siam.
PRIESTS PLAYING CHESS.
"The priests have a very lazy life of it. They lie around the temples and spend much of their time in sleep; some of them study the sacred books of their religion, and for those who are inclined to read there is a library attached to each of the principal temples. They are fond of games like chess, and several times we have found groups of them seated around tables and completely absorbed in their sport. Their chessmen are like buttons, and they hold them in little baskets, which are kept under the hands of the players. Many of them are great smokers, and when a party is at chess they usually have their pipes where they can be ready for use at a moment's notice.
"Talking about the priests naturally leads up to the religion of the country. Doctor Bronson says it is Buddhism of the purest character, and was brought to Siam from Ceylon hundreds of years ago. There is considerable difference in the authorities about the origin of the religion, but the statement most generally received is that it began about two thousand three hundred years ago in India. Prince Gautama, who afterward became Buddha, was famous for the goodness of his disposition and his care for the happiness of his fellow-men. The religion of his time was mixed up with a great deal of cruelty, and he determined to reform it. With his title of prince, he belonged to a very rich family near Benares, which was then considered one of the most sacred cities in India; and it remains so to this day in the eyes of the native people. He became a wanderer, and for five years he travelled over the country, living on charity, and doing all the good that he could.
"At the end of five years he came back to Benares to establish a new religion, and dispute with the teachers of the old. The people were ready to listen to him, and in a short time, under his new name of Buddha, he had many converts. Among them were his father and brothers, and other members of his family; and in a few years he was able to send out apostles to all parts of India and to Ceylon, and other countries. Conversions were made very fast, and the histories say that in less than two hundred years from the time Buddha began his work five hundred millions of people in Asia had embraced the new doctrines. Temples were erected everywhere, and priests became numerous; but the new religion led to a bitter war with the old, which lasted for centuries. Buddhism was finally driven out of the most of India, and the only places where it now exists are the countries to which it was carried by the missionaries.
"An English author and journalist, Edwin Arnold, who lived some time in India, has written a poem, entitled 'The Light of Asia,' in which he endeavors to portray the life and character of Prince Gautama of India, the founder of Buddhism. In the preface to his interesting and highly instructive production, Mr. Arnold says:
"'A generation ago little or nothing was known in Europe of this great faith of Asia, which had nevertheless existed during twenty-four centuries, and at this day surpasses, in the number of its followers and the area of its prevalence, any other form of creed. Four hundred and seventy millions of our race live and die in the tenets of Gautama; and the spiritual dominions of this ancient teacher extend, at the present time, from Nepaul and Ceylon over the whole Eastern Peninsula to China, Japan, Thibet, Central Asia, Siberia, and even Swedish Lapland. India itself might fairly be included in this magnificent empire of belief; for, though the profession of Buddhism has for the most part passed away from the land of its birth, the mark of Gautama's sublime teaching is stamped ineffaceably upon modern Brahminism, and the most characteristic habits and convictions of the Hindoos are clearly due to the benign influence of Buddha's precepts. More than a third of mankind, therefore, owe their moral and religions ideas to this illustrious prince, whose personality, though imperfectly revealed in the existing sources of information, cannot but appear the highest, gentlest, holiest, and most beneficent, with one exception, in the history of Thought.'
"Another authority says that the real name of Buddha was Sakya Muni, and he was the son of the Rajah of Kapila, a small territory north of Benares. According to some of the accounts, he acquired his divine character by silent meditation; and it is one of the principles of his creed that any one can, by meditation and good works, become equal to divinity. He was said to be thirty-five years old when he attained these powers, and it required seven years of meditation to reach this condition. He lived to be nearly eighty years old, and was actively engaged in pushing his new doctrines until the time of his death.
GATE-WAY OF A TEMPLE AT BANGKOK.
"There are two reasons why I shall not write much about the religion of this wonderful man. One is that I am afraid you would not be greatly interested in what we call Paganism, and the other is that I don't feel able to describe it so that you would understand it. People who have lived here for years say it is full of mysteries, and they are not able to comprehend it. If that is the case, you could hardly expect a traveller who is only a few months in the East to tell you all about the beliefs of the natives, and their modes of worship. I am told that the creed of Buddha is a very simple one, and is founded on kindness and benevolence. It is enjoined on all believers to be charitable, and never to inflict pain on anything that lives. This part of the doctrine is not closely observed by the ordinary followers, and its strict observation is specially appropriate for the priests. They are not allowed to kill any animal for the sake of food, but they may eat what others have killed, though they are not expected to do so if vegetable food is to be obtained. They are expected to remain poor, like the monks of the Catholic Church, and whatever is given to them belongs to the temple they are attached to. The temples are sometimes very rich, but the priests have nothing they can call their own property.
"Children are instructed in the temples, and one of the duties of the priests is to give instruction when it is required. Some of the temples have schools attached to them; and there are Buddhist colleges that have acquired considerable reputation for the learning of the men attached to them.
"Attempts have been made to convert the Siamese from their present religion to Christianity, and a good many missions have been established here. The Roman Catholics came to Siam three hundred years ago, and began to preach their religion; and in the early part of this century the Protestant missions were established. The government allows the missionaries full liberty to preach and teach among the people, and makes them gifts of land when any is wanted for the erection of a church or school-house. Some of the missionaries have exercised considerable influence over the high authorities, and it is largely due to their efforts that many reforms have been adopted.
TEMPLE OF THE EMERALD IDOL.
"I will close this letter by telling you something about the last of the temples we visited. It is the Wat P'hza Keau, or the Temple of the Emerald Idol, and is so called on account of an idol of emerald a foot high and eight inches wide. It stands on an altar about fifty feet high, and all over the surface of the altar there are images representing idols, human figures, and animals, the latter including some forms that are very grotesque. The emerald idol stands in a niche which is beautifully ornamented, and the altar terminates in a long spire above the idol's head. There are paintings on the walls superior to anything we saw in the other temples, and we found that the bricks on the floor were of polished brass instead of baked clay. The hair and collar of the idol are of pure gold, and from the way the light fell upon them it looked as though they were thickly set with precious stones. Some one who has seen it more closely than we did, says that while the gold was in a melted state a handful of diamonds, sapphires, rubies, and other precious stones were stirred into it; perhaps this was so, but I should think it would be injurious to the diamonds to be thrown into melted gold, which must be of a very great heat.
"This is the temple where the king comes most frequently to say his prayers. We had hoped to see him there, but were disappointed."
[CHAPTER X.]
ASCENDING THE MENAM, FROM BANGKOK TO AYUTHIA.
Doctor Bronson had a letter of introduction to the American Consul at Bangkok, which a friend in New York had given him before his departure. A few mornings after his arrival in Siam, he called at the consulate to deliver the letter and make the acquaintance of his country's representative.
He found the consul seated in a large arm-chair on the veranda of a spacious building on the east bank of the river, in the foreign portion of the city. A yard with shade-trees and gravelled walks surrounded the building, and near the landing-place there was a tall staff from which the flag of the United States waved in the breeze. The consul was a man of pleasing manners, and he was heartily glad to meet a compatriot, as the visits of Americans to Bangkok are not at all numerous. "Until you arrived," said he to the Doctor, "there had not been an American tourist here for nearly eight months. I wish more would come, as we lead rather a lonely life in Siam, and are very glad of anything to break the monotony."
In a frank, open-hearted way, the consul offered his services to Doctor Bronson and his young friends, in case there was anything he could do for them.
The Doctor thanked him for the proffered courtesy, and said they hoped to be able to see his majesty, the King of Siam, before their departure.
"I think that can be arranged without much difficulty," the consul answered. "The king likes to see strangers who are enough interested in Siam to come here out of the beaten track. He is a polite, intelligent, and most agreeable gentleman, and I feel confident that I can promise to present you to him.
"Just now he is absent from the city, and will not be back here for three or four days. On his return, I will endeavor to arrange what you wish. Meantime there is an excursion going up the river to Ayuthia, the ancient capital of Siam, and I advise you to join it. A party is going to see some elephants driven in from the forest, and the sight will be interesting to you. It can easily be arranged for you to join the excursion, which will start to-morrow morning."
Doctor Bronson assented at once to the proposal, and, after exchanging a few general observations, he departed, promising to come again in the afternoon to learn more fully about the excursion, and to bring the boys with him to introduce to the consul. He had left them at the hotel, busy with their first letters to friends at home.
Frank and Fred were delighted at the plan for going to Ayuthia, especially as they would have an opportunity to see with their own eyes the way the Siamese catch elephants. They were impatient to be off, and could hardly keep their minds on their letters, as they were filled with thoughts of the novelties in store for them.
When they called at the consulate in the afternoon, they found that the whole business had been settled. They were to have a house-boat or barge, large enough for half a dozen persons, and it was to be towed by a steam-launch which had been procured from one of the foreign merchants at Bangkok. To economize time, it had been determined to start an hour or two before sunset, and travel during the night; by this means they would reach Ayuthia early the next forenoon, and thus have the greater part of the day for sight-seeing. The consul decided to accompany them, as the cares of the consulate were not very heavy at that particular time, and, besides, the vice-consul was there to see that nothing went wrong.
A sufficient supply of cooked and canned provisions was procured, and the necessary amount of blankets, overcoats, and other comforts was made ready. The barge came to the front of the hotel at the appointed time, and in a few moments they were steaming up the river.
PRIVATE GARDEN NEAR BANGKOK.
Frank and Fred thought the sight was one of the strangest they had ever seen. Here was a broad river, its surface covered with small boats of a character new to them, and its banks lined with floating houses, such as have been described. Junks, and ships, and sloops, and steamers were anchored in the stream; and occasionally a great barge, rowed by twenty or thirty men, and belonging to some member of a noble family, shot past them, or turned into some of the many canals that open out from the Menam. Houses were just visible through the dense mass of palms and other tropical trees that lined the banks, and the spires of the pagodas rose above like great watch-towers, whose line of vision extended many miles. At a bend in the river the white walls of the royal palace came into view, and as they passed beyond the palace and proceeded up the river their eyes rested upon extensive fields and gardens, and on another fringe of floating houses along the bank. Suddenly a practical question occurred to Frank, and he asked the consul—
"Does the river ever freeze over?"
"Not by any means," was the reply. "The average temperature here is about 82°. April is the hottest month, and the thermometer then goes to 97°, and sometimes above 100°. It rarely falls below 65°, and the lowest ever known is 54°. There are only two seasons—the hot, or wet; and the dry, or cool. The south-west monsoon blows from April till October, and brings heat and rain with it; while from October till April we have the north-east monsoon, which is cool and comfortable. Most of the time during the north-east monsoon we have fine weather; there is now and then a shower, but it rarely lasts long.
"There is a very good story about the absence of cold in this part of Siam. Forty or fifty years ago, when the Protestant missionaries first came here, some of them were taken before the king, who wanted to see what manner of men they were. Up to that time Siam had had very little intercourse with foreign countries, and the old king was not very well versed in the geography of other lands, and their climate and productions. So he asked the missionaries, who were from Boston, what their country was, and what it produced.
"They told him many things about America, described the Falls of Niagara, the Rocky Mountains, the Mississippi, the fields of cotton and wheat, and other things that the soil produced, the great steamboats on the rivers, and talked of many other matters that they thought would interest him. Finally, one of them told him that where they came from the rivers were frozen over two or three months in the year.
"'What do you mean by that?' the king asked, through his interpreter.
"'Why, I mean,' said the missionary, 'that if this palace and the river Menam were at Boston, your majesty could walk across the water during three months of the year as he could walk on this floor. The water becomes solid, and men cut holes in it with axes and saws.'
"'Now I know you are lying,' the king replied, as he rose from his seat in great anger. 'I have thought so for some minutes, and now I am certain of it.' And he ordered the reception to end at once, as he wished no further communication with men who talked about a river getting hard enough for a king to walk on."
The scenery along the river was much like that below the city. There was the same luxuriance of vegetation that had astonished the boys when they entered the Menam, the same trees, and the same creeping and climbing plants. Here and there were great fields of rice; and our friends were not surprised to learn that rice was the chief product of the country, and its only export of consequence. There were also fields of sugar, which was extensively cultivated and exported; and the consul told them that there were exports of hemp, pepper, and cotton that sometimes reached a respectable figure. There was little manufacturing industry in Siam, and what the people wanted in the way of manufactured goods was brought from Europe or America.
A SIAMESE FOREST SCENE.
The consul pointed out various objects of interest as the boat moved along the river, and explained many things that otherwise might have been misunderstood by the boys, or not comprehended at all. Frank had a commercial turn of mind, and asked many questions about the trade of Siam; and he was much pleased to find that the consul had the whole subject at his command, and was able to give all the desired information. When their dialogue ended, Frank had the following facts recorded in his note-book:
"In 1876 the exports of Siam amounted to $8,350,000, and the imports to $7,070,000—an increase in the volume of trade over the previous year of $686,000. The chief export is rice, and in the year mentioned 4,101,000 piculs of rice were exported. The picul is a Chinese weight of 133 pounds. The direct exportation to the United States was 8800 piculs; but there is a large amount that is reshipped from Hong-kong, and does not appear on the records of the Siamese custom-house as going to America.
"In 1857 six foreign ships visited Bangkok; twenty years later, the number of foreign ships coming there in a single twelvemonth was more than two hundred. In 1840 there was only one trading-ship flying the Siamese flag; while in 1874 there were one hundred and twenty-nine native ships entered at the custom-house of Bangkok, and one hundred and seventy seven cleared from the port. These ships are nearly all native built and manned, and they go to Singapore, Hong-kong, and the ports of Java. They have not yet ventured on voyages to Europe and America, and are not likely to do so for a long time to come."
Fred wished to know what American articles were used in Siam, and Frank said he was coming to that as soon as he had written down the notes about the shipping.
The consul told them it would take a long time to name over all the foreign articles that could be sold in the country; but he would certainly not advise anybody to bring a cargo of heavy woollen blankets and overcoats, as they would not be in demand.
"I should say so," answered Fred. "With the thermometer as we have seen it since we came here, a heavy blanket or anything of the kind is quite superfluous. We rather want something for keeping cool, and if somebody will invent an ice-machine that you can carry in your pocket or even in your trunk he will make a fortune."
"Yes," the consul answered, "a thing much needed in the East is a cheap, easily handled, and light ice-machine. Ice is worth from three to six cents a pound here, and sometimes it can't be had at any price. There is a machine made by a French company that is somewhat used here, but it gets out of order easily, and has to be sent to Paris to be repaired. Where is the Yankee that will make something to go ahead of it?
"But to return to the subject of the things that are made in America and sent here to sell. We have cotton cloths of various kinds; canvas, iron, steel, and lead; glassware in several varieties; lamps, kitchen machinery and utensils; canned fruits and vegetables, together with canned fish and preserves. By-the-way," he continued, "we had a dinner at the consulate last year at Christmas-time, when everything edible on the table was of American origin, and brought to Siam in cans. The dinner-party was also made up of Americans, and you may be sure we had a good time, and could easily imagine we were at home.
"Some American machinery is used here, but not much, for the very simple reason that there is very little machinery of any kind used in Siam. All the weighing apparatus in the custom-house and other government offices is from America, as you will find on going through them."
"We passed the custom-house the other day," said Frank, "and I remember seeing some scales there which seemed like American ones. I looked for the maker's name, and saw the word which everybody knows at home, 'Fairbanks.' I was told that the king had some of these scales in his royal museum, and the only weighing-machines used in Siam, at least by the government, were made by Fairbanks."
"The native merchants are learning the advantages of the American system of weighing, in preference to their primitive one, as they can get along so much faster with the new than with the old," the consul answered. "But the East is conservative, and cannot be expected to adopt anything new very hastily.
"There is a good deal of American petroleum burnt here," he continued, "but it comes to Siam from Singapore, and not directly from America. In fact, about seventy per cent. of all the import and export trade of Siam is through Singapore, and so the merchants of Siam pay more for their goods than if they were brought here direct from the countries where they are produced. The king is desirous of having direct trade with the United States, and so are many private individuals, and it is to be hoped that some of the merchants will yet bring it about. It is a pity that the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, or the Occidental and Oriental, does not see its way clear to a branch line between Hong-kong and Bangkok, to connect with the regular steamers between Hong-kong and San Francisco. Two small steamers would perform the service, and I am confident it would pay."
There were occasional interruptions to this conversation. Now and then the boys saw a curious tree or something else that they wished to study, and they were never tired of looking at the native boats that paddled, or sailed, or floated down the river.
PARASITE AND PALM.
One of the trees that attracted their attention as they went along near the shore belonged to the family of parasites, and was not unlike some they had seen as they ascended the river from Paknam to Bangkok. The Doctor explained that in this case the parasite was not a vine, but a distinct tree that grew from a seed deposited by the wind or by the birds on the trunk or among the leaves of a palm. It grows much faster than the palm, and in a few years the palm dies and the parasite lives. It is held in the air by the decaying stem of the parent tree until the latter altogether rots away and falls. When once the parasite has obtained a hold, the destruction of the palm is only a question of time. Frank made a sketch of one of these trees while the boat was stopped a few moments to enable the engineer of the steam-launch to arrange something that had got out of order.
THE BAMBOO-TREE.
The bamboo-tree seemed to abound along the Menam, as it does everywhere in the East. In some places the stalks stood singly, and shot up straight as arrows; while in others they were in clusters so dense that the stems could not be distinguished one from another. While Frank was busy over his sketch of the parasite, Fred managed to secure a good picture of one of the most useful trees in the world. It is said that there are more than a hundred uses for the bamboo among the Chinese, and it is possible that a few others might be added in Siam and Java.
THE BOAT THEY NARROWLY MISSED.
Several times they had narrow escapes from collisions with the native boats, as the men who managed the latter were not very skilful in handling the rudder. One that passed so close to them as almost to scrape her sides against the boat of our friends, was a Chinese craft not unlike what they had seen between Hong-kong and Canton. It was running before the wind, and had a great sail of matting that was kept in place by a dozen or more cords gathered in a single line at the stern. She had a high cabin, that seemed rather top-heavy with the wind on the beam, but was all right before it; and there was a little deck forward of the mast, where a couple of men were seated. The narrowness of the escape did not appear to disturb these natives in the least, and they kept their places as though nothing had happened.
SCENE AT BANG-PA-IN.
Night came upon them, but there was a good moon, and they kept steadily on their way. They were going against the current, and as the boat was considerably larger than the steam-launch, the progress was not rapid. At nine o'clock in the morning they passed Bang-pa-in, where the king has a summer palace on a very pretty island in the most picturesque part of the river. The palace is built in European style, and was completed only a few years ago; the grounds are handsomely laid out, and there is an abundance of shade-trees, in irregular groves, from one end of the island to the other.
Ayuthia is ten miles above Bang-pa-in; and soon after passing the picturesque island Frank discovered some ruins of a temple close to the river's bank. The consul told him they would soon see an abundance of ruins, and sure enough at the next turn of the river they came in sight of what seemed to be a deserted village. Then they saw a number of floating houses tied to the shore, and farther on the towers and domes of Ayuthia were visible. The boat was stopped in front of a rude wharf, and the party stepped ashore in the ancient capital of Siam.
A RIVER SCENE.
[CHAPTER XI.]
VISITING THE PRINCE OF THE ELEPHANTS.—AYUTHIA.—SOMETHING ABOUT CROCODILES.
The party went ashore as soon as the boat was made fast. Frank was first to scramble up the bank, closely followed by Fred; then came the Doctor and the consul together, and behind them the interpreter of the consulate. At the consulates generally throughout the East it is the custom to have an interpreter, to facilitate dealings with the native officials and others; he is usually a native who has been taught English in some of the mission-schools, or he may be of American or European parentage, and familiar from his youth with the language of the country where he lives. In the present instance the interpreter was an intelligent young Siamese, who was educated by the missionaries, and spoke English with great fluency. He was of much service to the Doctor and his young companions, as he could tell them many things of interest concerning Siam and what it contained.
"We will first go," said the consul, "to call on the Prince of the Elephants. He lives in that house you see up there," he continued, as he pointed to a light structure of poles and matting, a hundred yards or so from the bank.
The interpreter was sent on ahead to herald the arrival of the strangers, and returned in a few minutes with the announcement that the prince was ready to receive them.
The consul and Doctor Bronson went forward, while Frank and Fred brought up the rear. Frank thought the house was not a very sumptuous palace for a prince, especially one who had the title of the Prince of the Elephants. Fred was of the same opinion, but said they might as well reserve their judgment until they had seen what was within. Externally, the house was like a rough shed of poles for a framework, with its sides covered with matting, to allow a free circulation of air. Some of the mats were rolled up, while others were closed; and it was certainly a very convenient house for a climate as hot as that of Siam. They were received in the upper story, to which they ascended by a rough stairway, which could be removed as readily as a ladder. What the lower floor contained they did not know, as all the mats around it were closed.
They found the prince just inside the door-way, and seated, or rather squatted, on a bench about two feet high. Chairs had been placed for the strangers, and they were invited to be seated. The interpreter remained standing, and, after a moment's pause, the prince asked who the visitors were. The interpreter explained; and while he did so, Frank made good use of his eyes to see what the prince was like and how he lived.
THE YOUNG PRINCE.
His royal highness appeared to be about fifty years old, or perhaps fifty-five. He was dressed in the native costume, without any gold-lace or other ornament to designate his high rank; the boys were somewhat disappointed at this, as they had expected to see a great personage covered with fine clothes, and ornamented with an abundance of diamonds and other precious stones. A youth, whom they supposed to be his son, stood near him, and occasionally leaned against the bench in a familiar way. Servants were creeping about the floor, and it made a strange impression on the youths to see the humble attitudes of half a dozen or more of the attendants as they waited for orders in a corner of the room. This is the position of respect in Siam, and, until the present king was crowned, it would have been as much as one's life was worth to venture into the presence of any member of the royal family in the European manner.
When he ascended the throne, he commanded that the old custom of creeping, and bowing the head to the floor in the presence of the king, should cease; it was a great innovation, but, as it was by royal command, it could not be opposed. The rule is enforced at the king's palace, but not at the palaces of the subordinate princes; and thus it happened that Frank and Fred were witnesses of what to them was a curious custom, and by no means an agreeable one.
The prince in whose presence they were was the uncle of the king. His name was Chow Phan Alah, and the boys learned from the consul that he was a man of marked ability, who had been prominent in public affairs for a long time. Socially, he adhered to the old customs of the country, as was evident in the creeping and crouching of those around him; but in politics he was progressive, and a good deal of the advancement that Siam had made in the past twenty years was due to his energy and shrewdness.
The interview lasted about a quarter of an hour. While the party was in the reception-hall, the prince ordered cigars and fruit to be served, and when they retired he sent a basket of fruit after them as a present. The consul had suggested that Doctor Bronson and the youths would like to see the stables of the elephants, and also wished to attend the elephant-hunt that was to come off about that time. The first request was granted at once; and the prince sent one of his officers to show the stables and their occupants, and also the corral close by, where the wild elephants were caught. He regretted to say that the hunt had been postponed a few days on account of the swollen condition of some of the rivers, which made it difficult to drive the animals through the forest. The boys were disappointed to hear this, but they were consoled with the reflection that they could see the spot where the hunt would take place, and the Doctor promised to explain to them how it was conducted.
PORTRAIT OF "CHANG."
The elephant-stable was only a huge shed, with the earth for a floor. It contained three or four elephants, all the others being out in the forest with the hunting-party. The largest of the elephants was brought out for their inspection; he was named "Chang," and was thought to be not far from seventy years old. As the elephant lives to the age of one hundred and fifty years and upwards, old Chang was just in the prime of life when the boys saw him, and his step was as elastic as that of a youth of twenty. He was not overjoyed to meet the strangers, and flourished his trunk in a menacing way; but at a sign from his keeper he ceased his demonstrations, and became thoroughly obedient.
MACEDONIAN COIN, WITH ANCIENT GOAD.
Chang had been at work hauling timber during the cool hours of the morning, and his harness was still on his back. It consisted of a stout breastplate of ropes and leather, which was held in place by a pad on his back. Just below his shoulder a stout ring was inserted in the breastplate, and to this the ropes by which the timber was drawn were attached. The driver sat on his neck, and directed him by means of an iron goad that had a hook near the end. Frank could not at first understand the use of this iron, but he soon found out. The officer asked the boys if they would like to take a ride on the beast, and we may be sure they assented at once. Chang was directed to a place at the side of a high wall, to which a sloping path led. The boys mounted to the top of the wall, and were thus enabled to take their places on the elephant's back.
MODERN GOAD.
The driver said something in Siamese, and the elephant at once moved off. He did not go fast enough to suit the driver, and then the goad came into play. His neck was prodded with it, and the hook was inserted into his ear in a way that made him understand and obey. The goad has been in use without any modification of shape for two thousand years or more, as is shown by ancient coins of a date prior to the Christian era.
As soon as Chang found that the driver was determined to use the goad he made no further opposition, and went along as peaceably as an obedient horse. The elephant generally obeys through affection for his driver; and instances have been known where one of these huge beasts has shown great grief at the loss of his favorite keeper, and refused all food until he literally starved to death. Very often the driver talks to the elephant, and the beast seems to understand perfectly what is said to him. Chang's driver did so, and hardly had he begun speaking before the elephant swung his trunk from side to side, and gave little grunts of satisfaction. The boys could not understand the language; but the interpreter told them that the driver was praising Chang for his good conduct, and asking him why he behaved so badly when the strangers came so far to see him. And with an eye to his own pocket, he said, "They are very nice gentlemen, and will certainly give some ticals to buy bananas for good old Chang." Of course the interpreter told what had been said, and the boys, when the ride was over, fulfilled the promise that had been made on their behalf.
A WAR ELEPHANT.
One of Chang's companions was led out from the stable, and assigned to Doctor Bronson and the consul. The interpreter had mounted with the boys, and so the officer who came by the command of the prince took a place with the others. He told the consul that the animal they were riding was trained for war purposes; and though he was occasionally put at work, like Chang, whenever timber was to be hauled, he ordinarily had nothing to do. Each of his tusks had three rings of silver encircling it, and he was evidently proud of his ornaments. The famous white elephants in the royal stables at Bangkok have rings of pure gold on their tusks; they are not always sensible of the honor that is shown them, and when the rings are being put in place they manifest their displeasure in the most emphatic ways. On one occasion two of the court jewellers were killed by an elephant that objected to be ornamented after the customary manner of the country, and it was only after a long time that he submitted to the operation.
When used for war, these elephants are equipped with a howdah, or basket, on their backs, and two or three soldiers are seated in it. They have a plentiful supply of weapons, and frequently so many as to encumber them greatly when they come to close quarters with the enemy. Elephants are not used in battle as much as in ancient times; the great body of the beast makes a magnificent mark for a rifle, and when wounded an elephant is more dangerous to his friends than to the enemy. Formerly a great number of elephants was kept for fighting purposes, but since the introduction of fire-arms the value of this huge beast for anything in war beyond the transportation of supplies has ceased to be apparent. Consequently, they are not at all numerous; and probably, if the Siamese were to indulge in war at the present time, they would not bring a single elephant into the battle-field.
Thus mounted, our friends went through the ruins of the ancient capital of Siam. It was a novel promenade, and one that the boys were not likely to forget in a hurry.
"The funniest thing yet," said Frank. "We went through Tokio and Kioto in jinrikishas; we rode on a wheelbarrow in Shanghai; we were carried in sedan-chairs in Canton and Hong-kong; and here we are seeing the ruins of Ayuthia from the back of an elephant. Wonder what we shall do next in the way of novel travelling!"
But though greatly enjoying their ride, they did not forget that they were out for an excursion through a city, or rather through what was once a city. And the magnitude and extent of the ruins impressed them greatly, and showed what a magnificent place Ayuthia must have been in the days of its glory.
NEAR THE PALACE.
The streets and yards, and even the houses, were overgrown with tropical trees that had been undisturbed for a hundred years and more; that they had made good use of their time, was everywhere apparent in the crumbling walls and the fallen towers that rose before the eyes of the visitors wherever they were turned. In several instances the bushes and climbing plants had completely covered the towers of the temples, and made them appear more like a great mass of verdure than a structure of brick and mortar.
IN THE RUINED CITY.
At one place the party descended from their elephants and went to the top of a wing of the former palace of Ayuthia. From the summit the view was extensive, and of a character not easy to describe. Frank thought it was not greatly unlike the view from the tower of Wat Seh Kate at Bangkok, as the abundance of trees made it difficult to see much more than the spires of the pagodas; and this was the most that could be seen in Ayuthia. But as he looked directly below him, he saw that the streets and court-yards were desolate, and he missed the throng of people that made the streets of Bangkok alive. Many parts of the palace were in a good state of preservation, and it seemed a pity that the city could not be repaired and peopled as it was of old.
It is said that when the Burmese overran Siam and captured her capital in 1769, the walls were so massive, and the buildings so excellent in construction, that the destruction of Ayuthia occupied nearly two months. Many parts of the walls are still in existence, and it is not at all difficult to trace the boundaries of the city. The distance it is necessary to travel to pass around the city by following its walls, is variously stated at from five to ten miles; and as our friends did not make the journey, they have left the question undecided.
A ruined city is a melancholy spectacle in any land and under any sky, and the boys were not at all sorry when the excursion through Ayuthia was over. They had more reasons than sentimental ones, as they found the motion of the elephant was not particularly agreeable when continued for a long time, and it required a good deal of attention to keep from falling off the back of their new-fashioned steed. When they dismounted at the stables, they were obliged to stretch themselves two or three times to make sure that their backbones were in the proper place, and both were positive that they had all the elephant-riding they cared for—for that day at least.
"It is nothing when you get used to it," said the consul. "If you had a journey of several days or weeks to make on an elephant, you would become accustomed to the motion in a short time, and could then endure it indefinitely."
The Doctor confirmed this view of the matter, and said the motion of the elephant was not nearly as hard as that of the camel for a beginner, and much easier to endure. "A camel," said he, "shakes you violently forward and back without cessation, while the motion of the elephant is not unlike that of a horse at a walk. If you have not mounted a horse for a long time, you will find yourself very sore and stiff after your first day's travel on the gentlest steed that was ever used, and this feeling will continue for two or three days. By degrees you get accustomed to it, and then you pay no farther attention to aches or pains, for the reason that you do not have them. It is just the same with an elephant or a camel, only the camel is much the worse.
"In some respects the elephant is a most remarkable animal. He possesses great intelligence, and can be taught to do many things that border upon reason. Books of natural history are full of incidents of the elephant's high order of intellect; the stories may sometimes be exaggerated, but there is no question that the majority of them are correct. In nothing is this more apparent than in the capture of his wild kindred; and it is a curious fact that the elephant, after being thoroughly domesticated, manifests no desire to return to his forest-life, and seems to take pleasure in assisting at the capture of others. We will talk about this business by-and-by, and meantime will complete our study of Ayuthia."
So far as the actual inspection of the ruined city was concerned, the study to which the Doctor referred was already completed, and the party returned to the boat.
Frank asked if it was not possible to go farther up the river, and make a general exploration of Siam. Fred seconded him in the question, which was anxiously propounded to the consul and Doctor Bronson.
"There are several reasons why we cannot do it," the former answered. "In the first place, we are limited for time of using the steam-launch and barge; secondly, I cannot spare the time to go farther; thirdly, we have not the necessary provisions and equipments for a wild journey; and, fourthly—"
"Never mind the other reasons," said the Doctor; "those you have given are quite sufficient. We will go back, and be thankful that we have seen so much. Only a few visitors to Siam ever have the opportunity of coming to Ayuthia and seeing its wonderful ruins."
As the boat moved off, on her return to Bangkok, the consul explained to the boys that the Menam was about nine hundred miles in length, and had a general course from north to south. It flows through an exceedingly fertile country, and the Siamese are very proud of it. Its name in Siamese means "Mother of Waters;" and though it is not to the country what the Nile is to Egypt, it is certainly of great importance. From the source of the river to its mouth, the forest is dense and luxurious, except where clearings have been made for purposes of agriculture. Teak, sapan, and other tropical trees grow to a great size, and the underbrush is so thick that it is next to impossible to walk about until a path has been opened.
Fred thought it would be nice to have a bath in the Menam; and proposed that they should try a swim in its waters the first time they had an opportunity.
CROCODILES AT HOME.
"I would advise you not to try it," the consul answered. "It is safe enough at Bangkok, where there is so much movement of boats, and you might bathe there without danger. But in this part of the river there are plenty of crocodiles, and the higher up you go the more of them do you find. M. Mouhot, who explored the Upper Menam in 1861, and died at the village of Louang Prebang in that year, says that in some instances he found the banks covered with crocodiles basking in the sun, and they were so unused to attacks that they were not at all disturbed by the presence of his boat. They frequently swallow incautious swimmers who venture into the parts of the river where they abound; and sometimes cattle going to the river to drink are seized by them. In such fights the crocodile is generally the victor, as he is thoroughly at home in the water, and his jaws have an enormous amount of strength."
TAKING A BITE.
"What is the difference between the alligator and the crocodile?" one of the boys asked.
"There is no material difference," the Doctor answered, "between the two. The alligator is American, and the crocodile Asiatic; and there is a slight difference in the formation of the head, and in the number and arrangement of the scales. The habits of the two are similar; they live in the water for the greater part of the time, but do not suffer any inconvenience when removed from it. They live mainly on fish, but have no prejudice against swallowing other game. Hence their fondness for men, and also for pigs, sheep, dogs, cattle, and anything else that comes in their way. The tastes of both are identical; and I presume that if you brought a crocodile and an alligator together, and put them to live in the same tank, they would acknowledge their relationship, and dwell in peace and quietness. On the other hand, they might indulge in a deadly combat; and in this, again, their similarity would be shown, as they are not always of an amiable disposition, and often indulge in fierce battles."
Fred asked if it was possible for them to stop on the way down the river and have a hunt for crocodiles.
Frank retorted that they had no fire-arms for shooting this kind of game or any other; and it was his opinion that their captures would not be numerous under the present circumstances.
THE DOCTOR'S CRACK SHOT.
"To shoot a crocodile," said the Doctor, "you must first have him where you can shoot, and then you must have the weapon ready. It must be a powerful rifle, carrying a large ball; and there are very few places on the reptile's body where your shot will have any effect. If you are an expert with the rifle, you may hit him in the eye when he is swimming across a stream; the bullet penetrates the brain, and causes speedy death; but if you strike him an inch away from the eye, your shot is wasted. I once killed a large alligator in this way; it was the first I had ever shot, and I was very proud of my achievement. The next day and the next I tried to repeat the performance, and I kept it up for a week without result. I was unable to get a similar chance, as not one of the reptiles made his appearance, though the bayou was full of them.
ALLIGATOR AND CRANE.
"The alligator makes great use of his tail in fighting, and in sweeping his game into his mouth. A blow of the tail from even a small alligator will break a man's leg, and I have known it to cut off a tree two inches in diameter. When the fellow wishes to capture anything, he tries to creep along-side, and when within reach he opens his mouth and sweeps his great tail around at the same instant, and the prize disappears down his capacious throat. Once I saw an alligator lying on a bank where some cranes were feeding not far away. He was motionless as a log—which he much resembled—but I could see that he had his eye open, and was on the lookout for a breakfast. By-and-by one of the cranes wandered near him, and like a flash his tail swept the bird into his mouth. Then he stretched out and 'set himself again,' as my guide said, for another crane.
THE TROCHILUS.
"It is a curious circumstance, mentioned by Herodotus, and greatly discussed since his time, that there is a small bird called the trochilus that fearlessly enters the mouth of the crocodile, and relieves it of the leeches and flies that disturb it. The bird and the crocodile seem to be on the most friendly terms; and it is thought by some writers that the bird performs the additional service of sentinel to its huge friend, and warns him of the approach of danger."
TROCHILUS AND CROCODILE.
Fred suggested that it was just possible that the bird was only an inquisitive fellow, and finding the crocodile's mouth open, he looked in to see what sort of a house it would make. And the crocodile, on his part, did not think the little bird was large enough to pay him for shutting his jaws on it; and so the intruder escaped solely on account of his diminutive size.
"When you see a crocodile or an alligator asleep on a bank," the Doctor continued, "you can, perhaps, get a good shot by creeping near enough to send a bullet under his fore-leg. The skin there is not protected by scales, and a bullet will penetrate it. Especially if you have explosive balls that burst on the moment of concussion, you can tear a great hole inside your game, and seriously interfere with his digestion. I shot one once in this way on a sand-bar in the Nile, a few miles above the first cataract; he was nearly twenty feet long, and it took my men a whole day to remove his skin. I was within thirty paces of him when I fired, and, as I had good aim, I sent the bullet exactly where I wished, he gave a few convulsive movements with his tail, and then stretched out stiff and dead."
The Doctor paused; and the consul took up the conversation with an account a friend had given him of a fight between a bear and an alligator in Western Louisiana.
"My friend was out hunting one day," said the consul, "and was suddenly startled by a loud roaring in the bushes not far off. He cautiously crept near, expecting to see a couple of bulls preparing for combat; what was his astonishment to see a large bear and a full-grown alligator eying each other, and poising themselves for an encounter.
"Bruin was on his hind legs, his mouth was covered with foam, and there were several streams of blood on his black coat. The alligator was on the tiptoes of all his legs, and he lashed his tail furiously, and kept his great jaws moving as if trying their ability to close on the bear at the proper moment.
THE ALLIGATOR AND THE BEAR.
"The bear growled, and the alligator roared like a bull; and it was his roaring that had attracted my friend's attention. They had evidently indulged in a clinch before he saw them, and were making ready for a second round. For fully a minute they remained in the attitudes in which he first beheld them, and neither could make up his mind how to take the best hold. Finally Bruin dropped on all fours, and ran at the alligator; the latter met him by throwing his head and body to one side, and delivering a blow with his tail that knocked the bear over on the ground, and rolled him several yards away. The blow sounded as though it had been given with a club with the force of half a dozen men, and it is safe to say that the strongest man would have been killed by it.
"The bear was not discouraged, for he picked himself up and ran once more at the alligator. He did it three times in succession, and with the same result; the alligator knocking him over each time.
"Bruin now saw that he must change his tactics. He made his next run in such a way as to avoid the tail, and he was fairly on the alligator's body before the blow could be given. The great tail was lashed furiously from side to side, but to no purpose, as it could not hit the bear either way. The force of the charge upset the alligator, and turned him completely over; the bear's jaws closed on one of his fore-legs, while the shaggy paws were clasped around the scaly body. The reptile was in a bad way, as his great weapon of warfare, the tail, was useless; and his neck was not flexible enough to enable him to bite. He roared in despair, and then bethought himself of a new trick.
"His tail, as he lashed it around, happened to hit a small tree; he pushed against this tree as with a lever, and by using it as a fulcrum he managed to wriggle along to the bank. Then another convulsive movement threw him and his antagonist into the water.
"The bank from which they fell was about four feet high, and they tumbled in with a loud splash. They disappeared below the surface, and were out of sight for nearly two minutes. The bear came up, and, after scrambling to the shore, he gave a brief glance at the stream, to make sure that there was no chance of renewing the combat; then, shaking the water from his skin, he hurried off into the forest. My friend could have shot the bear with the utmost ease, but in consideration for the courage and determination he had shown he did not do so."
"He was right," said Frank; "such bravery should command respect."
"But how about the alligator's part of the fight?" the Doctor asked.
"As to that," responded the youth, "the alligator deserves no credit. When he found he could not conquer the bear on equal terms, he sneaked into the river. He could live in the air or in the water, while the bear could not fight below the surface of the stream, and could not even live there. All the alligator had to do was to sink in the water, and the bear must drown or let go his hold. I like the bear's bravery, but don't think much of the other fellow."
"No more do I," Fred chimed in; "and it is a pity that the alligator could not have been shot before he rolled from the bank. All the race of crocodiles is a cruel one, and ought to be exterminated."
"They are fast being driven from existence," said the Doctor. "Twenty-five years ago they were numerous in the Nile below Luxor; while to-day they are rarely seen below the first cataract, which is more than a hundred miles above Luxor. They are also becoming scarce in the rivers of India; and the alligators in the southern parts of the United States are not nearly as numerous as they were. Still, there are enough for all the demand that is likely to be made for them, and anybody who will invent a way of killing them rapidly will confer a benefit upon the human race."
JUST HATCHED.
"In regions where these reptiles abound, the natives have adopted the sensible plan of destroying the eggs whenever they find a nest. The nests are made in the sand or on a bank of earth, and the female alligator usually lays from twenty to forty—rarely more than the latter number. They are hatched by the heat of the sun: the mother does not sit on the nest like a hen, but she stays in the neighborhood and fights for their protection. When the chicks emerge from the shell they hurry off to the water, or to a hiding-place in the mud; and they seem to understand that they will be subject to many dangers until they get large enough to defend themselves. Cranes and fish are fond of them in their tender youth, and even the fathers of the alligator family seem to mistake them for frogs, and eat them with apparent delight.
"In some parts of India the natives dig a circular pit, and cover it with sticks and leaves. The pit surrounds a little island or mound of earth, and is close to a stream where crocodiles abound. On the mound they fasten a young goat, and his bleatings during the night attract the crocodiles, who break the slight floor of sticks with their heavy bodies, and fall into the pit prepared for them. Heavy stakes are set in the bottom of the pit, and as the reptile falls he is generally impaled on one or more of them.
"I have read of a famous old crocodile who defied all the ordinary modes of capture, in one of the rivers of India. Finally an English officer hit upon a trick that was successful. He put a pound of powder in a can, and attached it to an electric wire, so that he could explode it at pleasure; then he placed this can inside the carcass of a sheep, and by means of a rope floated it over where the crocodile lay. The crocodile rose and swallowed the bait; the officer, who was standing ready with his electric battery on the shore, completed the connection of the wires, and an instant afterwards the reptile that had been a terror to the neighborhood had ceased to exist. The can of powder exploded in his stomach, and his body, when it came to the surface, was so torn and distorted that it could hardly be recognized as the remains of a crocodile."
COMING OUT TO SUN HIMSELF.
[CHAPTER XII.]
STORIES OF ELEPHANT-HUNTING.—SCENES OF THE CHASE.
When the topic of crocodiles and their relatives had been exhausted, Fred reminded the Doctor of his promise to tell them something of the ways of hunting elephants.
"I was just coming to that," said Doctor Bronson, "and have been trying to refresh my memory on the subject. I do not know how they hunt elephants in Siam, but from the appearance of the corral near the elephants' stables, I infer that the process is pretty nearly the same in all countries where the elephant is found in a wild state.
AN ELEPHANT FENCE.
"You observed that the corral, or yard, at Ayuthia was constructed of upright logs set into the earth in the form of a palisade. In Ceylon it is made of heavy posts, with strong timbers placed horizontally, the whole interlaced and bound with withes, and braced with slanting posts on the outside. The fence is generally about fifteen feet high, and the openings in it will easily allow a man to pass through. At Ayuthia you saw that the posts of the corral permit the same thing; the fence is like a sieve, that strains men through without difficulty, but catches the elephants.
FORM OF A CORRAL.
"Here is the general appearance of the fence," said the Doctor, as he took his pencil and drew on a sheet of paper, "and here is the shape of the corral. The corral is a pen, and the word is derived from the Spanish, and means a ring or enclosure. The space enclosed is generally about five hundred feet long by half that width, and at one end there is a gate that can be opened and shut very quickly, and is large enough to permit the passage of but one elephant at a time. There is an avenue, shaped like the letter V, which leads up to the corral, and converges on the side where the gate is placed. It is concealed as much as possible by brushwood, and where it begins it is so slight as to be hardly perceptible. It extends a long distance into the forest, and a great deal of skill is required to construct it successfully.
BEGINNING THE DRIVE.
"When the corral has been arranged, and is ready for occupation, the herd is supposed to be in its vicinity. Eight or ten weeks have been spent in driving in the elephants; the forest where they roam has been surrounded very cautiously, and several herds have been driven together so slowly and quietly, that none of the sagacious beasts has any suspicion that he is being entrapped. Sometimes hundreds of men are employed in driving in the herds, and an area is surrounded equal to several counties of an American state. Day by day the circle grows narrower, and finally the men composing it are able to build fires ten or twelve feet from each other. Not till then do they consider the game fairly bagged, and now they throw off all deception and adopt new tactics. Where before all was still, is now a scene of wild confusion; the men make a loud noise, with musical and unmusical instruments, and each of them carries a torch, which he waves wildly in the air. They do this on three sides of the herd, while the fourth side, in the direction of the corral, is left conveniently open.
DRIVING INTO THE CORRAL.
"The elephants are frightened, and rush in the desired direction; they now begin to suspect a snare, and frequently try to break through the line of men and rush back to their forest home. The men pelt them with the torches, and strike them with the burning sticks, till they turn around again and go where they are wanted; gradually they near the end of the corral, and finally a few of them make their way through the gate and are securely trapped. The natives rush forward and close the bars of the gate, and the rest of the herd is permitted to stray a little way back into the woods, but it is carefully kept from going too far.
"When they find they are caught, the elephants rush wildly round the corral, trying first one part of the fence and then another, in the hope of escaping. Wherever they go, they are met at the fence by men with flaming torches; and they are further terrified by discharges of musketry, and the sound of horns and trumpets. This performance is kept up for several hours of the day, and generally through the night; and at daybreak they make ready to secure the captives, and prepare the corral for a second lot of elephants.
"It is in this work that the elephant shows the peculiarity of his nature, in using all his sagacity to assist in the capture of his kindred. He seems to know what is wanted of him, and invariably appears to take great delight in doing it."
"Elephant nature is not altogether unlike human nature," remarked the consul, with a smile. "Not a few of our fellow-men, whenever they fall upon misfortune, are desirous of having others to share it with them."
"It is an old adage that misery loves company," said Fred.
"But I hope it is not a true one," Frank responded. "Perhaps we had better give the human race the benefit of any doubt on the subject, and say that the quality we have been talking about is elephant nature, and does not belong to us."
His proposal was accepted, and the account of elephant-hunting was resumed.
"The removal of the captives requires a good deal of skill and caution, both on the part of the tame elephants and on that of the attendants. Here is an excellent account of this operation:
"The bars which secured the entrance to the corral were cautiously withdrawn, and two trained elephants passed stealthily in, each ridden by his mahout—or ponnekella, as he is called in Ceylon—and one attendant, and carrying a strong collar, formed by coils of rope made from cocoa-nut fibre, from which hung on each side cords of elk's hide, prepared with a ready noose. Along with them, and concealed behind them, the head-men of the cooroowe, or noosers, crept in, eager to secure the honor of taking the first elephant—a distinction which this class jealously contests with the mahouts of the chiefs and the temples. He was a wiry little man, nearly seventy years old, who had served in the same capacity under the Kandyan king, and wore two silver bangles, which had been conferred on him in testimony of his prowess. He was accompanied by his son, named Ranghanie, equally renowned for his courage and dexterity.
"On this occasion ten tame elephants were in attendance; one of which had been caught only the year before, but was now ready to assist in capturing others. One was of prodigious age, having been in the service of the Dutch and English governments in succession, for upwards of a century. The other, called by her keeper 'Siribeddi,' was about fifty years old, and distinguished for her gentleness and docility. She was a most accomplished decoy, and evinced the utmost relish for the sport. Having entered the corral noiselessly, she moved slowly along with a sly composure and an assumed air of easy indifference; sauntering leisurely in the direction of the captives, and halting now and then to pluck a bunch of grass or a few leaves, as she passed. As she approached the herd, they put themselves in motion to meet her, and the leader, having advanced in front and passed his trunk gently over her head, turned and paced slowly back to his dejected companions. Siribeddi followed with the same listless step, and drew herself up close behind him, thus affording the nooser an opportunity to stoop under her and slip the noose over the hind foot of the wild one. The elephant instantly perceived his danger, shook off the rope, and turned to attack the man. The latter would have suffered for his temerity, had not Siribeddi protected him by raising her trunk and driving the assailant into the middle of the herd, when the old man, being slightly wounded, was helped out of the corral, and his son, Ranghanie, took his place.
"The herd again collected in a circle, with their heads towards the centre. The largest male was singled out, and two tame ones pushed boldly in, one on each side of him, till the three stood nearly abreast. He made no resistance, but betrayed his uneasiness by shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Ranghanie now crept up; holding the rope open with both hands, its other extremity being made fast to Siribeddi's collar, and watching the instant when the wild elephant lifted its hind foot, he succeeded in passing the noose over its leg, drew it close, and fled to the rear. The two tame elephants now fell back; Siribeddi stretched the rope to its full length, and while she dragged out the captive, her companion placed himself between her and the herd to prevent any interference.
SECURING THE CAPTIVES.
"In order to secure him to a tree, he had to be dragged back some twenty or thirty yards, making furious resistance, bellowing in terror, plunging on all sides, and crushing the smaller timber, which bent like reeds beneath his clumsy struggles. Siribeddi drew him steadily after her, and wound the rope round the proper tree, holding it all the time at its fullest tension, and stepping cautiously across it when, in order to give it a second turn, it was necessary to pass between the tree and the elephant.
SIRIBEDDI'S PRIZE.
"One after the other the herd was secured, in spite of their resistance; and the whole time consumed in disposing of an elephant, from the moment the decoys approached him till he was secured to a tree, was about three-quarters of an hour. The captives tried all possible ways to escape, but it was of no use; they were fastened to the trees, and the cords were so strong and so well tied that the greatest exertions of the prisoners were of no effect whatever. Some of the tricks they practised in endeavoring to escape were very ingenious, and showed that the elephant in his wild state has the full development of the sagacity which he displays in captivity. Their strength is enormous, and sometimes they pull down trees in their struggles.
THE PRISONERS TIED UP.
"It is a curious circumstance," the Doctor continued, "that the tame elephant who is assisting at the capture of his kindred never displays the least sympathy for them; while they, on the other hand, show a great deal of it for each other. When a captive, who is being dragged to a tree, passes one that is already tied up, he will stop and twine his trunk around the other's legs and neck, and manifest in all the ways that he can a deep sorrow for what has happened.
A LITTLE HEAD WORK.
"When the animals are secured the corral presents a curious spectacle. The great beasts are stretched out in various attitudes, their feet fastened to the trees, and sometimes spread far apart. They moan and bellow for hours together; they seize hold of the trees with their trunks, and exhaust all their ingenuity in endeavoring to get free. When all other means have failed, they will often try to escape by turning somersaults; and it is interesting to see an elephant balancing himself on his head, and endeavoring to throw his heels in the air. For awhile they refuse to eat or drink, and sometimes they literally starve themselves to death. I have heard of several instances where they have refused to move or eat, and remain motionless for days, till they die. It is generally the finest elephant of a herd that kills himself in this way; the natives say he dies of a broken heart, and I am quite inclined to believe that such is the case. And it sometimes happens that after an elephant has been tamed, and is thoroughly obedient to his keeper, he will lie down and die on the very first attempt to harness him.
IN A HEAP OF TROUBLE.
"There is a story of an elephant in Ceylon, which was one of the finest that had been taken in a long while. He resisted a good deal when first captured; and when they were removing him from the corral to the stables, a distance of about six miles, he was so obstinate that the journey occupied several hours. He escaped once, but was afterwards recaptured and became very docile; but when he was taken to Colombo, he stopped in front of the gate of the fort, and would not enter. While they were trying to persuade him to go inside, he lay down on the ground and died, without the least struggle."
Frank asked in what way the elephants are tamed, after they have been captured and tied up as the Doctor described.
"They are subdued," said the Doctor, "partly by starvation, and partly by kind treatment. Hunger is the great force used, as the elephant is not allowed to have any food until he shows signs of becoming tractable. Sometimes he is starved for a week or more; but he is allowed to satisfy his thirst to a limited extent. When he indicates that he has become docile, and is accustomed to the presence of his keeper, he is released and taken to the stables, where he is well fed. No attempt is made to harness him for some time, but he is exercised with the other elephants, and gradually reconciles himself to a captive state. In nine cases out of ten he never shows the least inclination to rebel, but accepts his new condition of life with perfect resignation; and, as I have before told you, he is quite ready and willing to assist in the capture of his former comrades.
"In some parts of Asia the natives capture elephants by digging deep pits, and covering them with bushes and leaves, so that the trap is quite concealed. The herd is then driven in the direction of the pit, and some of the animals fall into it. A guard is placed over them, and they are kept without food for seven or eight days, and even for a longer period if they do not submit. When they are conquered, the sides of the pit are dug down, and they are led out of the place of their imprisonment. There is a very good story connected with this mode of capture; it is an old one, and evidently the Eastern version of the fable of the mouse and the lion, which is in all the story-books."
"Tell it, please," said Fred; and the request was echoed by his cousin.
"I will tell it," said the Doctor, "though I fear you may consider it too juvenile for you.
"Hundreds of years ago an elephant was taken in a pit in a forest in India. He bemoaned his fate, and wept aloud. The guard that had been left over him was asleep under a tree, and a priest who was passing heard his lamentations and tried to console him.
"'Alas!' said the elephant, 'there can be no consolation for me. I must stay in this pit till I am subdued, and then I shall be the slave of man. No one can save me.'
"'Don't be so sure of that,' replied the priest. 'If you have ever done a good action to anybody, you can call him to your aid, and he will assist you. Think of some service you have given, and perhaps it will now be of use to you.'
"'I have done services on several occasions,' the elephant answered; 'but those who were favored were so small that they can now do nothing for a great body like me.'
"'Tell me one of them,' said the priest.
"'Last year,' said the elephant, 'the prince of this province had captured the king of the rats, and a great many of his subjects. He had them in earthen jars, and was about to drown them; but I came along in the night and broke all the jars, so that the rats ran away and were free.
REFUSING TO MOVE ON.
"'And another time a man had the queen of the tribe of the parrots in a cage, and hung it on a tree where nobody could reach it. I pulled the tree down and broke the cage, so that the queen flew away to her companions.'
"Just then the scream of a parrot was heard from a neighboring tree, and the priest said to the elephant,
"'Call that parrot, and ask him to go and tell his queen to come and see her benefactor, who is now in trouble?
"The elephant protested that it would be of no use, as the parrot could not help him in any way, no matter how willing she was to do so. But the priest insisted, and the elephant obeyed.
"In a little while the queen came, and then the priest told the elephant to send her with a message to the king of the rats. Away she flew, and told the rat king how their old benefactor had fallen into a pit.
"The king sent out his messengers to all parts of his dominions, and by the next morning they were assembled to the number of several millions. The king ordered them to follow him, and they went to where the elephant was entrapped. The parrot queen was there ahead of them, and she had brought millions of her subjects. The guards were now awake, but the parrot queen talked to them and amused them, and she kept flying off a little way at a time, till she drew them out of sight of the pit. Then the rats began scratching at the edge of the pit; and though each of them only threw down a very little earth at a time, there was soon a large path sloping to where the elephant stood. At the same time the millions of parrots began breaking little twigs from the trees, and dropping them into the pit; the elephant piled these twigs and the earth beneath him, and in a few hours he walked out of the pit, and away into the forest, where he joined his companions and told them what had happened.
"'Who would have thought,' he said to his fellow-elephants, 'that the largest animal in the world could be saved by such insignificant creatures as the parrot and the rat. Hereafter I will never despise small things, or despair of being brought out of trouble. Good actions will be rewarded, no matter how insignificant may be their recipient.'"
"A very pretty story!" exclaimed both the boys in a breath.
"It is a story with a moral," Doctor Bronson answered; "and I leave you to apply it while we have a little more talk about the elephant."
"A baby elephant is about the most amusing beast in the world; he is affectionate and playful to a high degree, and there is little difficulty in taming him. Very often the young elephants are taken in the corrals with their mothers, whom they follow to the tying-down place, and thence to the stables when the captives are released from their bonds. A gentleman at Colombo had one that was sent down to his house from the corral where he was taken, and he very soon became a favorite with everybody about the place. He stayed generally near the kitchen, where he picked up a good many things of which he was fond; and sometimes, when the gentleman was walking in the grounds, the young giant would come to him and twine his trunk around his arm, to indicate that he wanted to be taken to the fruit-trees. He used to be admitted to the dining-room, and helped to fruit at dessert, and he finally got to coming in at odd times when not invited. On two or three occasions he managed to break all the glasses on a sideboard, while reaching for some oranges in a basket, and finally he became so mischievous that he had to be sent away. While he was at the house the grass-cutters occasionally placed their loads of grass on his back, and whenever this was done he strutted off with an air of the greatest pride at the confidence that was shown in him. After he was sent to the government stables he became very docile; and when his turn came for work, he performed it to the satisfaction of everybody.
SLIDING DOWN HILL.
"It is said that elephants amuse themselves by sliding downhill; but they do not use sleds, like boys in America. Natives who claim to have witnessed these performances say that the huge beasts enter into the sport with great enthusiasm, and keep it up for hours.
ELEPHANT-HUNTING ON FOOT.
"Elephants are hunted with the rifle by English and other sportsmen; and thousands of them have been killed in this way for the sake of their tusks, or for mere amusement. Their number has been so much diminished by this means, that in India and Ceylon the government has taken the elephant under its protection, and it can only be pursued and slaughtered by the express permission of the officials. At present the paradise of elephant-hunters is in Africa. The African elephant is much like his Asiatic brother; but his ear is nearly three times as large as that of the latter, and his skin has fewer hairs upon it.
"He is a vicious brute, and often turns on his hunter and puts him to a rapid flight. I have read of an Englishman who was one day chasing an African elephant, and, after a great deal of manœuvring, got near enough to give him a shot. It was fortunate for the hunter that he was well-mounted and had a firm seat in his saddle, as the wounded elephant turned after the shot was fired and crashed through the bushes in the direction of his assailant. Horse and rider had a narrow escape, and the two dogs that accompanied the sportsman came in for a share of the fright. The hunter concluded that he would let the elephant go his way unmolested; and when the enraged animal turned back into the forest he was not followed."
"It reminds me," said the consul, "of the story of the army officer in India who was asked if he found tiger-hunting a pleasant amusement. 'Hunting the tiger,' said he, 'is very pleasant as long as the tiger is hunted; but when he turns and hunts you, the pleasure ceases altogether.'"
THE HUNTER HUNTED.
"It is about the same with the chase of the wild elephant," the Doctor remarked. As he said it, the servant announced the readiness of something to eat in the cabin, and the conversation was suspended until the party was seated at table.
"In some parts of the East," Doctor Bronson continued, "it is the custom for princes and kings to give grand entertainments in the shape of elephant fights. Sometimes two elephants are matched together; but quite as often they are pitted against some other beast. Formerly these fights were carried on till one of the combatants was dead or severely hurt; but at present an effort is made to keep them from injuring each other, and the fight is little more than a series of rather violent pushes from one side of the ring to the other.
"Mr. Crawfurd, who was sent at the head of an embassy from the Governor-general of India to Siam and Cochin China in 1821, was present at a tiger and elephant fight in Saigon. His account is interesting in two ways; it shows the manner of conducting one of these fights, and gives us a glimpse at the manners of the Far East sixty years ago. After detailing his reception by the governor, he says:
"We were invited to be present at an elephant and tiger fight, and for this purpose we mounted our elephants and repaired to the glacis of the fort, where the combat was to take place. A great concourse of people had assembled to witness the exhibition. The tiger was secured to a stake by a rope tied round his loins, and about thirty yards long. The mouth of the unfortunate animal was sewn up, and his nails drawn out; he was of large size, and extremely active. No less than forty-six elephants, all males and of great size, were seen drawn out in line. One at a time was brought to attack the tiger.
"The first elephant advanced, to all appearance, with a great show of courage, and we thought, from his determined look, that he would certainly have despatched his antagonist in an instant. At the first effort he raised the tiger on his tusks to a considerable height, and threw him to the distance of at least twenty feet. Notwithstanding this, the tiger rallied and sprung upon the elephant's trunk and head, up to the very keeper, who was upon his neck. The elephant took alarm, wheeled about, and ran off, pursued by the tiger as far as the rope would allow him. The fugitive, although not hurt, roared most piteously, and no effort could bring him back to the charge. A little after this, we saw a man brought up to the governor, bound with cords, and dragged into his presence by two officers.
"'This was the conductor of the recreant elephant. A hundred strokes of the bamboo were ordered to be inflicted upon him on the spot. For this purpose he was thrown on his face on the ground, and secured by one man sitting astride upon his neck and shoulders, and by another sitting upon his feet, a succession of executioners inflicting the punishment. When it was over, two men carried off the sufferer by the head and heels, apparently quite insensible.
"'While this outrage was perpetrating, the governor coolly viewed the combat of the tiger and elephant, as if nothing else particular had been going forward. Ten or twelve elephants were brought up in succession to attack the tiger, which was killed at last, merely by the astonishing falls he received when tossed off the tusks of the elephants. The prodigious strength of these animals was far beyond anything I could have supposed. Some of them tossed the tiger to a distance of at least thirty feet, after he was nearly lifeless, and could offer no resistance. We could not reflect without horror that these very individual animals were the same that have for years executed the sentence of the law upon the many malefactors condemned to death. Upon these occasions, a single toss, such as I have described, is always, I am told, sufficient to destroy life.'"
TAKING A NAP.
[CHAPTER XIII.]
BANG-PA-IN TO BANGKOK.—STUDIES IN NATURAL HISTORY AND BOTANY.
As they returned down the river the boat stopped at Bang-pa-in, to enable the young tourists to have a view of the place. The name means, "City on an Island," and is a literal description of the situation. The island is not very wide in proportion to its length, and the boys found that the beauties of the spot were quite up to the expectation they had formed during their journey up the river. They walked through the gardens, which were laid out with exquisite taste, and sat beneath the trees, whose dense foliage afforded a grateful shade; they were shown through the palace, found it furnished in European style, and their sharp eyes caught sight of a piano, which gave a hint of the musical taste of the king. The officer in charge of the place showed an album of monograms which his majesty had arranged, and some pencil sketches that were the work of the royal hands. The boys were consoled for the absence of the king by the reflection that if he had been present the palace would not have been open to visitors, and some of the interesting sights of Bang-pa-in would have escaped them.
When they reached the landing to continue their journey, they found a native boat along-side their own with fruits and other things to sell. By direction of Doctor Bronson, the interpreter bought a selection of what was in the market; and, as soon as they were again in motion, the boys employed their eyes and palates in a scientific investigation of the good things before them.
The first article that they discussed was a green cocoa-nut. Frank wondered what use they could make of it, and Fred suggested that they might keep it till it was ripe.
One of the servants speedily put an end to their suspense. With a dexterity that was evidently the result of long practice, he cut away the husk, and then made a hole in the shell of the nut large enough for the easy insertion of one's thumb. The opening revealed the interior of the nut, with a slight accumulation of white pulp close to the shell, while all the rest of the enclosed space was filled with milk. When it was thus prepared he handed the nut to Frank, and immediately opened another, which he gave to Fred.
Frank laughed, and said, "What shall we do with it?"
"Drink the milk, and throw away the shell," replied the Doctor, as he took one from the hands of the servant, and suited his action to his words.
The boys did as they were directed, and the drink was followed by an exclamation of delight.