RETURN TO BANGKOK--PREPARATIONS FOR A NEW EXPEDITION TO THE
NORTH-EAST OF LAOS--PHRABAT--PAKPRIAU--SAOHAÏE.
After a sojourn of four months among the mountains of Pechaburi,
known by the names of Makaon Khao, Panam Knot, Khao Tamoune, and Khao
Samroun, the last two of which are 1700 and 1900 feet above the level
of the sea, I returned to Bangkok to make the necessary preparations
for my new expedition to the north-east of Laos, my intended route
being to the basin of the Mekong, towards the frontier of China. I
had an additional motive for coming here again, namely, to get cured
of that annoying complaint the itch, which I caught at Pechaburi;
how, I really cannot guess, for, in spite of the mosquitoes, I bathed
regularly two or three times a day; but I hope that a short course of
rubbing with sulphur ointment, and proper baths, will effect a cure.
This, one of the ills of a traveller’s life, is, however, trifling in
comparison with the misfortune of which I have just heard. The steamer
‘Sir James Brooke,’ in which Messrs. Gray, Hamilton, and Co., of
Singapore, had sent off all my last boxes of collections, has foundered
at the entrance of that port. And so all my poor insects, which have
cost me so much care and pains for many months, are lost for ever--some
of them rare and valuable specimens, which, alas! I shall probably
never be able to replace.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Thérond, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
PAVILION CONTAINING THE ASHES OF THE LATE KING OF SIAM IN THE GARDENS
ATTACHED TO THE PALACE AT BANGKOK.]
Two years ago, about this same season, I was nearly in the same place
where I now am, on the Menam, some leagues north of Bangkok. The last
floating shops, with their almost exclusively Chinese population, are
beginning to disappear, and the banks of the river are assuming a
monotonous aspect, although from time to time, through the brushwood
and foliage of the bananas, the roof of some hut is visible, or the
white walls of a pagoda, prettily situated, and surrounded by the
modest dwellings of the priests.
FÊTES AT BANGKOK.
It is the season of fêtes; the stream is covered with large and
handsome boats, decorated with gilding and carved work, with true
oriental gorgeousness; and among them the heavy barges of the
rice-merchants, or the small craft of poor women going to the market
with bananas and betel-nuts. It is only on festivals, and a few other
occasions, that the king, princes, and mandarins display their riches
and importance. The king was on his way to a pagoda to offer presents,
followed by his whole court. Each of the mandarins was in a splendid
barge, the rowers being dressed in the most brilliant colours. A number
of pirogues were filled with soldiers in red coats. The royal barge
was easily to be distinguished from the rest, by the throne surmounted
by a canopy terminating in a pinnacle, and by the immense quantity of
carving and gilding about it. At the king’s feet were some of his
children, and he waved his hand to every European whom he saw.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Catenacci, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
CLOCK TOWER AT BANGKOK.]
All the ships at anchor were adorned with flags, and every floating
house had an altar covered with various objects, and with odoriferous
woods burning on them. Amidst all these fine barges, one was remarkable
for its simplicity, and the good taste with which the rowers were
dressed,--a uniform of white cloth, with red cuffs and collar. It
belonged to Khrom Luang, the king’s brother, a good, courteous, and
intelligent prince, ever ready to protect Europeans to the utmost of
his power; in a word, a gentleman.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Sabatier, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
THE BAR OF THE RIVER MENAM.]
Most of the dignitaries, generally fat men, were lying lazily on
triangular embroidered cushions, in their splendid boats, upon a kind
of dais, surrounded by officials, women, and children, kneeling, or
lying flat, in readiness to hold out the golden urns which serve them
for spittoons, or their betel-boxes or teapots, all made of the same
precious metals by the goldsmiths of Laos and Ligor. The boats have
generally from eighty to a hundred rowers, with the head and greater
part of the body bare, but wearing a large white scarf round the
loins, and a brilliant red _langouti_; they all raise their paddles
simultaneously, and strike the water in regular time, while at the prow
and stern are stationed two other slaves, one dexterously managing a
long oar which serves as a rudder, the other on the watch to prevent
a collision with any other boat. The rowers continually raise a wild,
exulting cry, “Ouah! ouah!” while the steersman utters a louder and
more prolonged one, which rises above the voices of the rest. Many
boats also are to be seen crowded with women, musicians, or parties
carrying presents. The _coup d’œil_ is certainly charming.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Sabatier, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
SCENE ON THE RIVER MENAM, NEAR BANGKOK.]
From time to time appears, amidst the picturesque assemblage, the boat
of some European, always to be recognised by his “chimney-pot” or silk
hat.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Sabatier, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
A PRIEST IN HIS BOAT.]
All these scenes passed rapidly away, and, before long, I could
only hear the distant sounds of the music, and see a few scattered
boats adorned with streamers, passing up or down the river, being
often skilfully managed by girls and very young children, who amused
themselves by racing. It is evident, from the careless gaiety of these
people, that they do not suffer the frightful poverty but too often
met with in our large cities. When his appetite is satisfied--and, for
that, all that is necessary is a bowl of rice, and some fish seasoned
with capsicum--the Siamese is lively and happy, and sleeps without care
for the morrow; he is, in fact, a kind of Lazzaroni.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Thérond, from a Photograph.
THE NEW PALACE OF THE KING OF SIAM, BANGKOK.]
PAIN OF SEPARATION.
My friend M. Malherbes accompanied me for a few hours’ sail from
Bangkok, and then we parted with a warm clasp of the hand, and, I
confess, not without tears in both our eyes, trusting that destiny
might reunite us here or elsewhere. My friend’s light boat glided
rapidly down the stream; in a few minutes he was out of sight, and I
was again left alone--for how long a period being quite uncertain.
I rarely allow myself to dwell on the subject; but separations are
painful to the traveller who has left behind him all he holds most
dear in the world,--family, country, home, and friends,--to visit
countries inhospitable, and in many ways dangerous, without comfort or
companionship. It is equally painful to think that, during long months,
his impatient family are living in anxiety, and forming a thousand
conjectures as to his fate. I know what awaits me, having been warned
both by the missionaries and the natives. During the last twenty-five
years, only one man, as far as I know, a French priest, has penetrated
to the heart of Laos, and he only returned to die in the arms of
the good and venerable prelate, Mgr. Pallegoix. I know the discomfort,
fatigue, and tribulations of all sorts to which I am again about to
expose myself; the want of roads, the difficulty of finding means of
conveyance, and the risk of paying for the slightest imprudence by
a dangerous or even fatal illness. And how can one be prudent when
compelled to submit to the hardest life of the forest, to suffer many
privations, and to brave all inclemencies of the weather? Nevertheless,
my destiny urges me on, and I trust in the kind Providence which has
watched over me until now.
NEWS FROM EUROPE.
Only a few hours before my departure from Bangkok, the mail arrived,
and I received news of my dearly loved family, which consoled me for
the misfortune I sustained in the loss of my collections. Thanks,
thanks, my good friends, for the pleasure you gave me before starting,
by the expression of your warm and constant affection; I shall not
forget you in my solitude.
I shall continue during my journey to take notes of all my little
adventures, very rare, alas! for I am not one of those travellers who
kill a tiger and an elephant at one shot; the smallest unknown shell or
insect is more interesting to me; however, on occasion, I do not object
to a meeting with the terrible inhabitants of the forest, and more than
one have known the range of my rifle and the calibre of my balls.
Every evening, enclosed in my mosquito curtains, either in some cabin
or at the foot of a tree, in the jungle or by the river bank, I shall
talk to you, my friends; you shall be the companions of my journey, and
it will be my greatest pleasure to confide to you my impressions and
thoughts.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Rousseau, from a Photograph.
KUN MOTTE, A SIAMESE NOBLE AND SAVANT.]
KINDNESS OF M. MALHERBES.
Scarcely had my friend M. Malherbes left me, when I discovered, in the
bottom of my boat, a box, which he had contrived to place, unknown
to me, among my packages; a fresh proof of his kindness, for he had
already sent me three cases when I was at Pechaburi. I found it to
contain some dozens of Bordeaux, as much cognac, boxes of sardines,
biscuits, and a number of other things, which would recall to me, were
I ever likely to forget it, the true and considerate friendship of
my countrymen, so valuable to one far from home.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Catenacci, from a Photograph.
BUILDING FOR THE INCREMATION OF THE QUEEN OF SIAM.]
I also carry with me most agreeable _souvenirs_ of another excellent
friend, Dr. Campbell, of the Royal Navy, attached to the British
Consulate; and am very grateful to Sir R. Schomberg, the English
Consul, who has shown me much attention and sympathy. Here let me,
likewise, express my obligations to Mgr. Pallegoix, to the American
Protestant missionaries, and, indeed, to most of the Consuls and
resident strangers, who have all shown me kindness; and I would
particularly mention the name of M. D’Istria, the new French Consul.
Let me say, in passing, that I am cured of the itch, which I suspect
my servants had caught in wandering about the villages, and had
communicated to me, in spite of my scrupulous cleanliness.
THE TRAVELLER’S SERVANTS.
THE CHINESE “DENG.”
The banks of the Menam are covered with splendid crops, the periodical
inundations rendering them as fertile as those of the Nile. I have
four Laotian rowers; one of them was in my service for a month two
years ago, and he now begged to be allowed to attend me throughout
my journey, telling me I should find him very useful. After a little
hesitation I have engaged him, so now I shall have three servants.
My good and faithful Phrai has never left me, luckily for me, for I
should find it difficult to replace him; and, besides, I am attached
to the lad, who is active, intelligent, industrious, and devoted to
me. Deng--which means “The Red”--his companion, is another Chinese
whom I brought from Pechaburi. He knows English pretty well; not that
incomprehensible jargon of Canton, “You savee one piccey boy, lartel
pigeon,” &c. (You know a clever boy, &c.) He is very useful to me as
interpreter, especially when I wish to comprehend persons who speak
with a great piece of betel between their teeth. He is likewise my
cook, and shows his skill when we want to add an additional dish to
our ordinary fare, which occasionally happens when some unfortunate
stag comes within range of my gun, or I bring down a pigeon, or even a
monkey, a kind of game not much to my taste, though highly esteemed by
my Chinese, as well as wild dog and rat. Every one to his taste.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Bocourt, from a Photograph.
SAYA VISAT, HEAD OF THE CHRISTIANS AT BANGKOK.]
DENG’S DRAUGHT.
This attendant of mine has one little defect, but who has not in this
world? He now and then takes a drop too much, and I have often found
him sucking, through a bamboo cane, the spirit of wine from one of the
bottles in which I preserve my reptiles, or laying under contribution
the cognac presented to me by my friend Malherbes. A few days ago he
was seized with this devouring thirst, and, profiting by my absence
for only a few minutes, he opened my chest, and hastily laid hands on
the first bottle which presented itself, great part of the contents of
which he swallowed at one gulp. I came back just as he was wiping his
mouth with his shirt-sleeve, and it would be impossible to describe his
contortions and grimaces as he screamed out that he was poisoned.
He had had the bad luck to get hold of my bottle of ink; his face was
smeared with it, and his shirt pretty well sprinkled. It was a famous
lesson for him, and I think it will be some time before he tries my
stores again.
The wages I give at present are ten ticals each per month, which,
allowing for exchange, amounts to nearly forty francs per month. This
in any other country would be good pay; but here I should find great
difficulty in finding any other men to accompany me, were I to offer
them a tical a day.
I soon reached the mountains of Nephaburi and Phrabat, with their
pure clear atmosphere, the weather being pleasant and a fresh wind
blowing. All nature looks smiling, and I feel exhilarated and happy.
At Bangkok I felt stifled and oppressed. That town does not awaken my
sympathies. Here my heart dilates, and I could fancy I had grown ever
so much taller since I arrived. Here I can breathe, I live, amid these
beautiful hills and woods; in cities I seem to suffocate, and the sight
of so great a number of human beings annoys me.
COMMENCEMENT OF RICE-HARVEST.
I stopped yesterday at Ayuthia to see Father Larmandy, and, after a
night passed beneath his hospitable roof, proceeded on my way towards
Pakpriau. The whole day after our departure we passed by fields and
rice-plantations on both sides of the river. All the country, till
within two miles of Ayuthia, is inundated; there, only, the ground
begins to rise a foot above the waters. Already, in several places they
are beginning to cut the rice, and in a fortnight the whole population,
male and female, will be busy with the harvest.
At present most of them are availing themselves of the short time left
them to enjoy the “far niente,” or visit the pagodas with offerings
to the priests, which consist principally of fruit and yellow cloth;
the latter intended to afford a supply of raiment for them while they
are travelling; as, during several months of the dry season, they are
allowed to quit their monasteries and go where they like.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Clerget, from a Photograph.
PORTICO OF THE AUDIENCE HALL AT BANGKOK.]
VISIT TO KHUN PAKDY.
October 20.--Having reached Thama Triestard at night, we slept at the
entrance of the village, and early this morning I stopped my boat
before the house of Khun Pakdy, the kind chief who, two years ago,
accompanied me to Phrabat. The worthy man was not a little surprised to
see me, and could scarcely believe his eyes, for he had heard that I
had died at Muang-Kabuic. We soon renewed our acquaintance, and I was
pleased to find that his regard for me, especially when stimulated by
a glass of cognac, had survived the lapse of time. Poor Khun Pakdy! if
I were King of Siam--which Heaven forbid!--I would name you Prince of
Phrabat, or rather resign my throne to you.
He gave immediate orders to prepare breakfast for me; then, on finding
that I was going to Korat, he remembered that he had promised again
to be my companion if I brought him a gun from Bangkok. “If it were
only worth three ticals it would do,” said he; but seeing only the
same percussion guns, “You have not brought me one,” he observed; “but
never mind, I will go with you all the same.” It was only when I told
him that I should make but a very short stay at Korat, and intended
to proceed farther on into places where he would doubtless have to
“tighten his belt,” and that I did not wish him to lose his comfortable
mandarin’s _embonpoint_, that I succeeded in checking his enthusiastic
devotion. But when he heard that we should be obliged to sleep among
the woods by the light of the stars, he turned the conversation.
As soon as we had breakfasted I returned to my boat to escape his
rather too demonstrative conversation, and the noisy eulogiums he
continued to pour upon me.
From hence are visible the beautiful chain of hills which extend from
Nephaburi, and which, I conjecture, join those of Birmanie and the
Deng mountains, which do not appear more than fifteen miles off, and
awaken a host of agreeable recollections. I feel sure the fine season
has arrived; the air is pure, the sky serene, and the sun shines almost
constantly.
SAOHAIE.
Saohaïe, October 22.--I have not yet reached Pakpriau, and already I
have met with, and begun to suffer from, the annoyances inevitable in
a country like this, inundated during a great part of the year, and in
which the means of travelling are so difficult to obtain, particularly
when one is burdened with an extra, though indispensable, quantity of
luggage.
During the two days I have been here I have lodged in the boat of a
Chinese who was at first afraid to receive me; and I may consider
myself fortunate in meeting with any resting-place. Yesterday I paid a
visit to the governor, who resides in an old hut, repulsively dirty,
about two miles from the spot where I landed. Although this is the
most important place in Saraburi, this wretched dwelling, and a few
scattered huts belonging to agriculturists, are all the houses I have
seen; there is no bazaar, and no floating shops. From time to time
petty merchants come to sell or exchange salt and other articles of
absolute necessity; or a few Chinese with small stocks of _langoutis_,
arrack, cloth, Siamese dresses, and bowls, which they barter for skins,
horns, or rice. These dealers sometimes go as far as Boatioume.
The current was so strong, that in a quarter of an hour we reached
the residence of the mandarin whose acquaintance I had made on my
former journey, and who, in return for a present I had given him, had
promised me, in the event of my going to Korat, to furnish me with
even a hundred attendants, if I needed as many. I announced to him my
intention of visiting Khao-Khoc, fixed upon two years ago by the King
of Siam as a desirable place for a fortress to which he might retire,
in case the too active Europeans should seize upon his capital--which,
let me whisper, would be very easy to do, and would only require a
handful of our brave Zouaves accustomed to an African sun.
I was all the better received by the mandarin, that I asked for
nothing; for I had already engaged a boat, the owner of which wished
to return to Khao-Khoc in two days. I had projected a trip to Patawi,
but at this season the roads are impassable, so that I was forced to
abandon the idea.
A great number of the inhabitants of this province are natives of
Laos, and are principally captives brought from Vien Chang after the
insurrection there. The provinces of Boatioume and Petchaboune are
peopled by Siamese, for Laos proper only commences at M’Lôm. Boatioume,
Petchaboune, Sôm, and some other provinces in the north and east, are
governed by Siamese mandarins of rank more or less elevated; that is to
say, several of them have the power of life and death, and are then
considered as viceroys. The most distant provinces belong to the empire
of Siam, and form a part of it.
Petchaboune is particularly noted for its tobacco, which is reckoned
the best in Siam; and a commerce in this article is carried on with
Bangkok in spite of the extreme difficulty of communication; for in the
time of the inundations, when boats of some size are able to come up
here, the contending against a very strong current is the labour of a
month; while in the dry season only very small boats can be used, as,
frequently, they have to be dragged over the sand, or carried past the
rocks, which in many places cause rapids and obstruct the navigation.
This commerce is chiefly in the hands of the Siamese of Petchaboune,
who arrive at Pakpriau towards the end of the rainy season, to exchange
their tobacco for betel and other articles.
The province of Saraburi is very populous, and in the southern
districts a great quantity of rice is produced, but the quality of it
is inferior to that of Pechaburi, which is considered very good, and
is regularly bought by the Siamese dealers, who afterwards carry it to
Bangkok. As is the case all over the country, there is great difficulty
in arriving at a correct estimate of the population, which is scattered
along the banks of the stream.
Saohaïe is the starting-point for all the caravans going to Korat.
Another road, from Muang-Kabuic, also leads to this ancient Cambodian
town; but it is little frequented, except by the Laotians of the
locality.
VISIT FROM THE GOVERNOR.
Whilst writing I was interrupted by the unexpected visit of the
governor, who was on his way to a pagoda to make an offering of dried
fruits, and passed an hour in my cabin. He was in a large and elegant
pirogue more than 30 metres long, for which I would have given his
house and all its appurtenances. He sent for the owner of the boat
which was to take me to Khao-Khoc, and gave him some instructions for
the chief of that place, adding, “I have sent no letter, because I
know that M. Mouhot made himself respected when here two years ago,
and will doubtless do the same there.” I could not but offer him some
small presents in acknowledgment of this slight service, which might or
might not be of use to me. I therefore gave him a pair of spectacles
mounted in tortoiseshell, a bottle of scent, and one of brandy; and I
prepared for him a sedative mixture, as he begged for some medicine
for his rheumatism. Happy Raspail! who, with his “system,” can assuage
suffering even in these distant lands.
In return, he promised to give me a pony when I wanted to go to Korat,
besides other useless things; but he will probably forget these
promises, for here it is the custom of the rich to accept everything
even from the poorest, but very rarely to give away. However, were it
not for peculation and presents, how could these mandarins live? Their
salary--when they have one--would condemn them to a state of leanness
which would not only drive them to despair, but cause them to be looked
upon as unsuitable for their places.
VOYAGE TO KHAO-KHOC.--DONG PHYA PHAI (FOREST OF THE KING OF FIRE).
VOYAGE TO KHAO-KHOC.
I am now en route for Khao-Khoc, in the boat of a Chinese merchant, a
worthy person, who, luckily for me, does not intoxicate himself with
opium or arrack. He intends going as far as Boatioume, but the current
is so strong that I doubt if he will be able to proceed higher up the
river than Khao-Khoc; for, in spite of his four rowers, and the aid of
my two men--(I sent away my Laotian, who found it too great fatigue to
row, and preferred sleeping and smoking)--we have been nearly carried
away at every bend of the river and at the frequent rapids.
The weather, which I trusted was settled, has changed during the
last three days, and every afternoon, about four or five o’clock, we
have a violent shower. Last evening I was seized with a more severe
headache than any I have had since I entered the country, and my first
impression was that I had been attacked by fever, which, in the rainy
season, there is so much cause to dread in the neighbourhood of Dong
Phya Phai. It proceeded, however, only from the heat of the sun, to
which I had been all day exposed, and was dissipated by the freshness
of the night air at the prow of the boat. In the morning I felt as well
as usual.
They tell me that to-morrow I shall see Khao-Khoc, and I shall not
be at all sorry. The little boat is so encumbered with our united
baggage, that the fraction of space left for me forces me to all sorts
of constrained and uncomfortable positions; and these twelve days of
tedious navigation have fatigued me much. And what a place this is! The
air is damp, unwholesome, and dreadfully heavy; one’s head burns, while
one’s body is at one time covered with perspiration, and at another a
cold shivering comes on.
After four days of excessive toil we entered a gorge through which the
river passes, which, even at this season, is here not more than 90
metres wide. Torrents of rain, bursting suddenly upon us, forced us to
stop rowing, and take refuge under our roof of leaves. The rain lasted
all night, and a wretched night it was for the poor men, who, having
yielded to me the front of the boat, were all crammed together in the
cabin, and, after all their fatigues under a burning sun, were unable
to obtain a moment’s sleep, but lay groaning under the suffocating
atmosphere and the attacks of legions of mosquitoes.
KHAO-KHOC.
At daybreak about a hundred strokes of the oar brought us past a new
bend in the river, and we found ourselves before Khao-Khoc. This place
has, in my humble opinion, been badly chosen by the kings of Siam for
their stronghold and retreat in case of an European invasion of the
south. In the event of this occurring, they would abandon Bangkok;
and, certainly, as whoever possesses that town is master of the whole
country, no one would be likely to come and molest the kings in their
solitude.
Two or three miles below Khao-Khoc I observed a kind of landing-place,
and a house of mediocre appearance, bearing the pretentious appellation
of palace, although built only of leaves and bamboo. This is Rabat
Moi. At Khao-Khoc, although the second king often visits it, there is
no landing-place, nor even steps cut in the steep banks to aid the
ascent.
Immediately after landing I set off to look for a lodging, having
been informed that I should find numerous vacant houses belonging to
mandarins, amongst which I might make my choice. My men and I hunted
amid the brushwood, often sinking up to our knees in mud, but could
discover only seven or eight Laotian huts, the inhabitants of which
form the nucleus of the population of this future stronghold, now
peaceful and hospitable agriculturists, who would be deeply afflicted,
and still more terrified, if ever their echoes should repeat the roar
of cannon and varied sounds of war. As for the royal habitations, I
could not reach them, for the whole ground, excepting a strip about
fifty feet broad next the river, is a swamp; and the narrow paths are
obstructed by bushes and tall grass, which had had time to grow during
the six or eight months that have elapsed since the King has visited
the place.
Not being able to find a lodging, some men from the village joined us,
and we all set to work to cut down bamboos, with which to construct
one, which was soon accomplished; and in this hut, open to every wind,
we took up our abode.
I was told that a white elephant had just been taken in Laos, and had
been sent off to Bangkok under the care of a mandarin.
All the inhabitants of the village, amounting perhaps to about fifty,
have brought their children to me, begging for remedies; some for
fevers, others for dysentery or rheumatism. I have not heard of any
cases of leprosy here, as at Khao-Tchioulaü, but the children are
repulsively dirty; they are covered with a coating of filth, which
makes them resemble little negroes, and the greater number of them are
shaking with fever.
The site of my hut is in a valley, formed by a belt of mountain-chains,
running from Nephaburi and Phrabat, and connected with those of the
peninsula and of Birmah. Mount Khoc is distant a kilometre from the
left bank of the river, and stretches out in the form of a semicircle,
afterwards joining the mountains which run eastward towards Korat, and
M’Lôm, and Thibet. Facing Mount Khoc, other mountains rise abruptly
from the right bank, and then extend in an easterly direction.
As soon as my dwelling was finished, which was neither a long nor a
costly job, we slung up three hammocks, and then betook ourselves to
prepare a place for insect-catching, the end of the rainy season being
the best time for this work. We accordingly cut down a great number of
trees, a hard and painful task in this climate, where the sun, drawing
up the humidity from all the surrounding marshes, makes one feel as if
in a stove or hothouse; but our labours have been abundantly repaid
by a rich harvest of specimens. Beetles of the longicorn tribe abound
here; and to-day I have filled a box with more than a thousand new or
rare insects. I have even been fortunate enough to replace some of
the more valuable kinds which were destroyed or injured by sea-water
on board the ‘Sir James Brooke.’ The villagers come every day to bring
me “beasts,” as they call them, grasshoppers, scorpions, serpents,
tortoises, &c., all presented to me at the end of a stick.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Sabatier, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
LAOTIAN HOUSE.]
The sanitary condition of the place is dreadful. The rains are now
less abundant, and the river has fallen more than twenty feet. They
tell me that at Boatioume it is so narrow that the branches of the
trees on the two banks touch and form an arch overhead. The mountains
are of calcareous rock, and are covered with a fertile vegetation, but
everywhere bear the traces of the water which anciently covered them.
From the top you can imagine the former limits of the ocean, and see
that the plain to the south was then submerged, and that all these
heights formed capes or islands. I found close to their base, under a
stratum of soil, banks of fossil coral and sea-shells in a good state
of preservation.
THE HEAT DIMINISHED.
The north wind now makes itself frequently felt, although the
south-east and south-west winds resume their sway at times, and bring
back the rain; but the heat of the nights gradually diminishes, and
now, after three o’clock in the morning, I can bear a covering, and
am glad to wrap myself in my burnous. My two men suffer occasionally
from attacks of intermittent fever, and often complain of cold in the
stomach; indeed, death lays so many snares for us here, that he who
escapes may think himself lucky.
At last we breathe a pure and delicious air. It is now mid winter;
since the day before yesterday a fresh north wind has blown, and at
night the thermometer has gone back to 18° centigrade. All the evening
I have been walking by the river, wrapped in a warm burnous, with
the hood up; and this is a pleasure I have not enjoyed since I was at
Phrabat, two years ago.
PHRAI AND DENG.
One must have passed sleepless nights, suffocating with the extreme
heat, in order to appreciate the comfort of sleeping under a woollen
covering, and, above all, without the necessity of waging incessant war
on the dreadful mosquitoes. Phrai and Deng wear their whole wardrobe
both night and day, and I have seen them dressed in red flannel and
with felt hats, when you might take them for Garibaldians, as far,
that is to say, as their costume is concerned, for their appearance
otherwise is far from warlike; however, they are not wanting in a kind
of courage which has its own merit. They dance and sing round a good
fire, and open their eyes with astonishment when I tell them that I
have seen rivers larger than the Menam frozen over so hard that the
heaviest vehicles could go upon them with safety,[4] and others on
which whole oxen have been roasted;[5] and that men and animals often
die of cold.
[4] In Russia, on the Neva.
[5] On the Thames at London.
My little “Tine-Tine” says nothing, but creeps under my counterpane and
sleeps at his ease; only if Phrai torments him by lifting the cover, he
shows his teeth. Ungrateful being that I am, I have not yet spoken of
this little companion who is so faithful and attached to me--of this
pretty “King Charles,” whom I brought from home. All the Siamese, and
especially those who have no children, are very fond of the little
creature, notwithstanding their general aversion for dogs. Theirs,
however, are usually half savage. I much fear that my poor dog will
come to an untimely end, and be trampled under foot by some elephant,
or devoured at a mouthful by a tiger.
For the last few days we have feasted; our provisions were beginning
to fail, but the fish are now coming up the river, and we take them by
hundreds. Certainly they are not much larger than sardines, but in an
hour we took six or eight basketfuls, and my two boys have enough to do
to cut off their heads and salt them.
All the children of the neighbourhood, most of whom are still kept
at the breast, come frequently to bring me insects, in exchange for
a button or cigarette, for it is a common thing for them to leave
their mother’s breast to smoke. Were they not so dirty, they would be
nice-looking; but I am afraid of touching them, lest I should again
catch the itch.
LAOTIAN SUPERSTITIONS.
The Laotian is as superstitious as the Cambodian, and perhaps more so
than the Siamese. If a person falls ill of a fever, or, indeed, is ever
so slightly indisposed, they believe it to be owing to a demon who has
entered his body. If any matter in which they are engaged goes wrong,
or an accident happens when hunting, fishing, or cutting wood, it is
the fault of the demon. In their houses they carefully preserve some
object, generally a simple piece of wood, or some parasitic plant,
whose form they fancy bears a resemblance to some part of the human
body; and this is constituted their household god, and prevents evil
spirits from entering, or, at least, causes them speedily to depart.
Every day we go out on our collecting expeditions; but while we are
seeking insects or birds, the sound of our voices, or the report of our
guns, repeated by the mountain echoes, brings forth the wild beasts
from their dens. Yesterday, after a long and fatiguing excursion,
during which we had killed some birds and one or two monkeys, we were
returning home quite worn out, when we reached a small clearing in the
forest, and here I told my two boys[6] to take a little repose at the
foot of a tree, while I went to hunt for insects.
[6] The word “boy” is generally used by me to denote a male servant.
ENCOUNTER WITH A TIGER.
Suddenly I heard a sound as of some animal gliding through the thick
underwood. I looked round, at the same time loading my gun, and then
crept quietly back to the tree where my servants lay asleep, when I
perceived a large and beautiful leopard taking his spring to clear
the brushwood, and pounce upon one of them as he lay all unconscious.
I fired, the shot striking the animal in the right shoulder. He gave
a tremendous leap, and rolled over among the bushes, which much
embarrassed his movements. However, he was but wounded, and still
dangerous, if my second ball did not kill, or at least cripple him. I
fired again, and hit him between the shoulders; the ball lodged in the
heart, and he fell dead almost instantaneously. The terror of my two
poor followers, suddenly awakened by the report of my gun so close
to their ears, was only equalled by their pleasure when they saw the
creature extended lifeless before them.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Bocourt from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
M. MOUHOT AND HIS SERVANTS SURPRISED BY A LEOPARD.]
THOUGHTS OF HOME.
Another year has flown, a year chequered for me, as for others, with
joy, anxiety, and trouble; and to-day my thoughts turn especially to
the few who are dear to me. From more than one loving heart arise, I
feel sure, on this day, good wishes for the poor traveller, and from
no one more warmly than from you, my dear father. You long for my
return; so writes my brother in his last letter, forwarded to me from
Bangkok. But I am only commencing my new campaign; would it be like a
good soldier to leave on the eve of the engagement? I am at the gates
of the infernal regions, for so the Laotians and Siamese designate
this forest, and I have no spell to terrify the demons which inhabit
it, neither tiger’s teeth nor stunted stag-horn; nothing but my faith
in and love for God. If I must die here, where so many other wanderers
have left their bones, I shall be ready when my hour comes.
The profound stillness of this forest, and its luxuriant tropical
vegetation, are indescribable, and at this midnight hour impress me
deeply. The sky is serene, the air fresh, and the moon’s rays only
penetrate here and there, through the foliage, in patches, which appear
on the ground like pieces of white paper dispersed by the wind. Nothing
breaks the silence but a few dead leaves rustling to the earth, the
murmur of a brook which flows over its pebbly bed at my feet, and
the frogs answering each other on either side, and whose croaking
resembles the hoarse barking of a dog. Now and then I can distinguish
the flapping of the bats, attracted by the flame of the torch which is
fastened to a branch of the tree under which my tiger-skin is spread;
or, at longer intervals, the cry of some panther calling to its mate,
and responded to from the tree-tops by the growling of the chimpanzees,
whose rest the sound has disturbed.
With a sabre in one hand and a torch in the other, Phrai pursues the
fishes in the stream, and he and his shadow reflected on the rocks and
water, as he stands there making sudden darts, and crying out “hit” or
“missed,” might easily be mistaken by the natives for demons.
FOREBODINGS.
I cannot shake off a feeling of sadness which a few hours of sleep and
a long chase to-morrow will probably dissipate; yet, at the moment, I
cannot forbear asking myself, how will this year end for me? Shall I
accomplish all I have in view? shall I preserve that health without
which I can do nothing? and can I surmount all the difficulties which
oppose themselves to me, and of which not the least is the difficulty
of finding any means of conveyance?
And you, my dear father, be not too anxious as to my fate, but preserve
that tranquillity, hope, and love of God, which alone can make men
strong and great: with this help and support, our reunion will not be
long delayed. Courage then, and hope! our perseverance and efforts
will be recompensed. And thou, invisible link, which, in spite of
distance, unites hearts, bear to all those dear to me a thousand
embraces, and fill them with all those thoughts which at all times give
me strength, and supply joy and consolation in my saddest and most
dreary hours. To all, then, a happy new year! and may I bring back safe
and sound my poor young followers, who have been such faithful and
devoted companions; and who, although already rather weakened by fever
and incipient dysentery, are still full of gaiety and energy, and as
much attached to me as ever.
NATURE OF THE COUNTRY.
Five or six leagues north of Khao-Khoc is Mount Sake, and two miles
farther all habitations cease, and there is complete solitude as far
as Boatioume. The banks become more and more picturesque; here are
calcareous rocks, covered in places with a ferruginous crust, and
whence flow streams endowed with petrifying properties, while hills,
rising abruptly to a great height, contain grottoes ornamented by
stalactites; there, are beds of sand, islands on which sport in the sun
a crowd of iguanas; everywhere, a rich vegetation, mingled with tufts
of bamboo, in which fight and squabble the chimpanzees, on whom Phrai
exercises his skill, and which afford him a delicious repast.
We embarked in a very light pirogue, and, during the first day, passed
the boats from Petchaboune, which had left Khao-Khoc the night before;
for the current is still rapid, even though the water is so low that in
many places you have to drag the boat over the sand, and poles have to
be used instead of oars.
TIGERS NEAR BOATIOUME.
Tigers, which are rare at Khao-Khoc, are more common in the environs of
Boatioume, where they destroy many of the cattle.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Catenacci, from a Photograph.
CEMETERY AT BANGKOK.]