MOULMEIN.
“Gutta cavat lapidem non vi, sed sæpe cadendo.”
The capital of the Tenasserim provinces is situated on the left bank
of the river, about half a day’s steaming from its mouth. It is,
if anything, even more picturesque than Prome; and, at that period,
civilization had made considerable strides, calculated to enhance its
beauty, in the shape of good roads and tasteful houses. The site on
which it was built was of an undulating character, with imposing hills
in the background, between which intervened a swampy belt, inundated
during the monsoon, and under cultivation when the waters had subsided.
From motives of convenience and salubrity, the native and European
residences were built parallel to the river, in a line extending over
several miles.
Once again my eye rested on houses built on piles, and they appeared so
familiar, that I could scarcely realize the fact of having for the past
four years been associated with any other. The European houses boasted
roomy verandahs, protected from the prevailing glare by luxuriant
creepers.
Teak and bamboo entered largely into their composition, while the roofs
were covered with “shingles,” or flat, thin boards cut into fixed sizes
and laid on after the manner of tiles. They resisted water wonderfully,
but whenever it poured—it never _rained_!—the noise was such as to
drown all attempts at conversation. Perchance a shower would descend
in the middle of a meal, and the hush would then be as great as if
a punkah had suddenly given way in the hot season, or a steamer with
heated bearings had suddenly come to a standstill in the Red Sea.
In the native quarters too, the houses were more substantially built
than anything I had seen elsewhere, and the excellent sanitation was
a bright feather in the cap of the Commissioner, as well as those
under him, who had to deal not only with Burmese, but with a medley of
Chinese, Malays, Karens, Shans and Madrasees, who had settled in the
place and were conspicuous by their industry.
Of these, I found the Chinese by far the most amusing; and it was a
right down pleasure to ransack their shops for curios. They certainly
appeared to me a unique race, what with their strange physiognomy,
style of dress, their independence and way of rendering English.
The cream of our intercourse lay in the process of bargaining, wherein
they displayed much temper, which I fear I encouraged rather than
otherwise.
By way of a set-off, however, I found to my dismay, when I came to
pack, that I had accumulated more china than I knew how to dispose of.
And I may here mention, by way of warning to others, that ere long
it was all “lost, stolen, strayed or broken.” Such a collection in
my possession at this time would be exceedingly valuable, for every
item was of its kind genuine, and not the rubbish which passes muster
nowadays.
A considerable number of Chinese, attracted to Moulmein by the
shipbuilding carried on at the docks, had settled down as carpenters,
in which capacity they have earned golden opinions in every quarter of
the globe.
Even in exile, away from the Flowery Land, the Celestial clings to his
pig, that white, sleek, well-bred animal, which has so improved our
own stock. M. Huc was among the first to enlighten us with regard to
the inhabitants of China and Tartary; and some of his remarks about the
Chinese border on the marvellous; as, for instance, their expertness at
telling the time of day or night by the appearance of a cat’s eyes, and
their method of preventing a donkey braying by tying a weight to his
tail.
And these are not mere travellers’ tales.
At midnight, a cat’s eye is at its fullest stage of dilatation,
gradually contracting till midday, when it represents no more than a
longitudinal slit.
By patient observation—and who can beat the Chinese for patience?—the
stage of dilatation or contraction constitutes a very fair index;
not perhaps for those who are dependent on trains, but for all daily
purposes in less sophisticated lands than our own.
It was also demonstrated to M. Huc’s entire satisfaction, that in order
to bray, a donkey must have his head, ears and tail erect, so that if
the last named be kept down by a heavy weight, he has not a bray in his
composition.
During one of my evening walks, I met a Chinese funeral procession;
the coffin, as customary, was large and ponderous, and the unfortunate
bearers seemed to stagger under the load. All the followers were busy
throwing pieces of tissue paper into the air, which were carried here
and there by the wind. Greatly perplexed as to the meaning of this
strange proceeding, I made inquiries, and found that their object was
to cheat the devil, the papers being imaginary bank notes, for which
his satanic majesty had, they believed, a great weakness; while he was
engaged in collecting them, the body could be buried in safety, and,
once in the earth, he had no power over it.
They passed me on their way back, rejoicing exceedingly at the success
of their stratagem, laughing and joking, as if they had been assisting
at a wedding rather than an interment.
Besides being good carpenters, they were _facile princeps_ as
leather-workers; and once a Chinaman has encased your feet, you will
be reluctant to employ any other nationality, be it even a Frenchman,
though he comes second best.
Having said this, I have said all the good for John Chinaman that I
can—the rest is simply nowhere!
He is steeped in independence, being very unpunctual, and exceedingly
brusque into the bargain. Keeping you waiting until it suits him to
bestir himself, he will come forward with, “What you want?” “Boots
mended,” is the rejoinder. “Very good; I mend.” “When ready?” you
ask—remember, he can only understand his own kind of English. “You come
next week,” is his ultimatum. You go next week, and the boots have not
been touched. “How is this?”—“Oh! I too busy; you come another time.”
“But when, you old thief?”—“Next week I make ready,” and he vanishes
into the back premises. For artistic and systematic thieving, too, he
has gained a world-wide renown; while as for his other virtues—well,
“all men are liars,” and Chinamen form no exception to the general
rule.
And now I must give some little account of the wonderful vegetation,
which eminently characterizes this part of our possessions.
The most conspicuous among indigenous trees is unquestionably the
Jack-fruit, of which several may be seen in every garden, along the
roadside, and shading the houses, in which latter capacity it is not
to be beaten, for the thick, green, glossy leaves are very numerous. As
an article of food, it ranks somewhat less highly, for a European needs
some moral courage to approach the fruit, for a reason to which I have
already alluded; though a native esteems it as honey in the comb, and
will gorge to repletion on it, and then have a little more—if it is to
be had!
Standing isolated, it is certainly more striking in appearance than
when growing in the jungles; and one is particularly attracted by its
curious tendency to grow fruit on the trunk.
The elongated mahogany-coloured seeds are, when roasted, palatable
and nutritious; while its wood, which is much sought after for special
purposes, takes a high place for durability.
Not nearly so common, but surpassing it beyond all range of comparison,
is that crowning triumph of the vegetable kingdom, the _Amherstia
Nobilis_.
This glorious plant, than which even a poet’s imagination could
conceive nothing more beautiful of its kind, is of the Papillonaceous
order, a trifle too symmetrical perhaps to be artistic; it grows to
the height of about thirty feet, and on the dense mass of light green,
pinnate foliage rest large racemes of bluish-purple flowers in great
profusion.
Following closely on its heels is the _Poinsiana Regia_, a native of
Madagascar, naturalized in some parts of India, but not met with here.
The _Amherstia_ is, however, indigenous to these parts, flourishing in
a limited area.
I do not think the specimens introduced by a friend of mine into the
Calcutta Botanical Gardens thrived particularly well, neither am I
aware whether it is to be found among our exotics at home. In a lofty
glass house, with a high temperature, saturated atmosphere, and rich,
loamy soil, it might flourish. The finest specimen I ever beheld was in
the Commissioner’s ground.
Several seeds of its near rival germinated in my own greenhouse in
Herefordshire, but the heat was insufficient to carry them through the
winter, though the gardener at Moor Park, to whom I gave some seeds,
kept them in a flourishing condition for several years.
Various kinds of acacias and mimosas perfumed the air and delighted
the eye; and the beauty of many a garden was considerably enhanced by
well-kept clumps of the graceful bamboo and the elegant plantain. The
display of floral wealth was also considerable, but there is a limit to
my memory.
Those were the days in which whole forests of teak were cut down with
a recklessness impossible to understand under any administration;
no thought was taken of the future, which must take care of itself.
Forests, instead of being thinned, were absolutely cleared on a
principle of penny wise, pound foolish, which characterizes those of
our own agriculturists, who refuse to replace worn-out fruit trees,
because they themselves may not live to see them grow up and bear.
Considering all that their forefathers did for them, such wanton
selfishness is a little surprising—even in men! Day after day, huge
rafts of teak, in charge of a Burmese crew, were floated down the river
to the timber-yard. This had been going on ever since the monsoon set
in, at which time this river, to the depth of which I have already
alluded, is subject to sudden rises of twenty feet and more. One of the
sights of the place was to watch the elephants at work stacking these
ponderous pieces of timber; and, knowing from habit exactly what was
required of them, they certainly set about it in a most intelligent
and methodical manner, with little or no prompting on the part of their
drivers. Anyone watching them at this occupation could also form some
idea of their colossal strength, a power which they themselves are
apparently incapable of appreciating, and which they willingly delegate
to the service of man. Few animals are more easily tamed, and once
domesticated, the desire for liberty seems to die out in them for good
and all. The Burmese turn them into the jungle to browse, just as we
do horses into a field; when they require one, they have but to walk
a short distance and call any one of them by name, when the pachyderm
leaves off feeding and follows his master like a dog. The mention of
these sagacious animals brings to mind an omission. On our march to
Mendoon, that I related some chapters back, we lost a number of the
finest specimens; but on careful examination, I could find no specific
cause beyond enormous distension of the colon. To administer poison
is in itself no easy matter, for anything in the shape of medicine,
however adroitly concealed, is usually rejected. Yet some powerful and
subtle vegetable alkaloid must have gained an entrance, and we became
positively alarmed at the frequency with which such losses recurred,
for in them was our trust to carry our camp baggage.
From this emporium of teak, I went down to the docks, where I spent a
considerable time. The art of ship-building has, from boyhood upwards,
ever exercised a peculiar fascination over me; and only very recently
I designed a five-foot model of a steamer, which I hope, ere long, to
build with that most excellent of antipodean woods, the cowry pine, the
chief characteristics of which are close grain and elasticity.
There were a number of fair sized vessels in different stages of
construction, others in course of repair.
Chinamen predominated, as might have been expected, among the
carpenters, and they certainly appeared to me to take matters
remarkably easy. I neglected to inquire whether they were paid by time
or by work accomplished; if the latter, their earnings must have been
insignificant.
What they undertake, however, is done well; though slow and easy going,
they are on occasion painstaking, accurate and steady.
The practice of opium-smoking may induce lethargy, but not impairment
of the faculties as with alcohol.
One vessel, which was just receiving the finishing touches, looked
so trim that I was tempted on board, and her recent history was of a
nature to open my eyes to certain phases of the ways of man, of which
I had previously been totally ignorant.
About six weeks before, she had sailed with a large cargo of timber,
but had not proceeded far when she was _discovered_ to be extremely
leaky, and everything was made ready in case she should founder. On
one occasion indeed the crew took to the boats, but as it became
evident that the buoyancy of her cargo would keep her afloat, she
was again boarded and brought back for repairs. The individual who
took upon himself to acquaint me with these thrilling facts expressed
such unconcealed disgust at the way in which she had floated when
she _ought_ to have sunk—“She’d a’ been worth a load more at the
bottom!”—conjured up visions of a snug insurance, and on reading
between the lines, I found it unnecessary to inquire into the _origin_
of the leak!
Taking leave of my very outspoken companion, I emerged from the docks
a sadder, yet a wiser man, than I had entered them. Already, in the old
days, Shylock arrived at certain practical conclusions anent “land-rats
and water-rats, and the peril of waters, winds and rocks,” but such
calculated villainy as the above is one of the fruits of the grand
march of civilization.
The sight of all others, upon which the good people of this place above
all prided themselves, was that of the “Caves,” and I firmly believe
that my newly-acquired friends and hospitable entertainers were rather
nettled at my electing to visit the timber-yard and docks first. But
the horizon soon cleared, when my friend and self arranged to go there
on the morrow. Although not far off, they were difficult of approach
at this season of the year, owing to the intervening expanse of water
that had to be traversed, for the caves were located in some rocks that
stood in the midst of that element.
Our intention evidently pleased our host, for besides a whole volume of
instructions and warnings, every preparation was made for our comfort,
and we started after breakfast with a hamper large enough for six, an
extra coat apiece, an umbrella and a supply of torches. A Madrassee
Jehu drove us through two or three miles of country under-timber, until
we brought up at the edge of a swamp. Here occurred a pause of half
an hour, after which a Burmese, who had sallied forth in quest of his
elephant, returned with it.
The “howdah” was most ingeniously constructed of bamboo and cane,
very light and comfortable, as much so, at least, as anything can be
on the back of one of those animals. Lashing everything securely, we
plunged at once into the wilderness of waters, the margin of which was
surrounded by large trees, creepers, and undergrowth.
Cautious as usual, the animal threaded its way, bearing direct for
the two rocks, which stood out conspicuously about equidistant from
dry land on either side. The distance looked nothing at starting,
though, measured by the time it took to accomplish, it must have been
considerable. Of course the animal had to proceed with extreme caution,
plumbing the depth with its fore foot at every step, before trusting so
enormous a weight to an uncertain bottom. In our progress we perceived
numbers of elephants among the trees, from which they were breaking off
suitable branches, first employing them with their trunks to whisk off
numerous insect tormentors, and afterwards consigning the leafy morsels
to their mouths.
As we approached the rocks, the water became gradually shallower,
until we again emerged on dry land and stood before the mouth of the
principal cave. The entrance was by way of a short passage some ten
feet high, profusely adorned with images of Gautama, but otherwise
unaltered by the hand of man. This abruptly expanded into a huge,
vaulted chamber, damp, cold and dark as Erebus. Here we donned our
extra coats and lighted the torches. As the flames dispelled the gloom,
a very beautiful sight burst upon us. From the roof depended enormous
masses of stalactites of every size, over which water trickled,
exhibiting prismatic colours as the torchlight fell upon them at
various angles; and they seemed studded with innumerable precious
stones of exceeding brilliancy, the gems of Golconda, rubies from “the
mines” and emeralds from Santa Fé. It was like being suddenly ushered
into the abode of some fairy, the deception being heightened by the
fantastic shapes of the rocks beneath, the result of the trickling
water. Around and about the rocks were narrow paths covered with a soft
substance, which took the impression of our feet, and though we could
distinctly hear the murmur of flowing water, it was nowhere visible.
Moreover, it suddenly ceased, until we entered cave number two—like
the first in every particular, only smaller—when it recommenced,
puzzling me as much as before. By the time we had entered the third
recess, it again ceased; and in extreme perplexity I asked our guide
what it meant. The reply was almost as surprising as the mysterious
sound itself—it proceeded from the wings of countless numbers of bats,
fleeing before the light of our torches. We explored all the caves; I
forget their number now, their beauty—never!
That same sound as of running water—really the gentle flapping of bats’
wings—pioneered our retreat. I was rather ahead of the others, when
my torch suddenly went out, leaving me in profound darkness. I tried
to grope my way, but a few tumbles over those by no means soft rocks
brought me to a standstill. I sat, therefore, like Patience on a rock,
until my friend came up with the guide; otherwise, I believe I should
be there now!
When we finally quitted the caves the light of the sun dazzled us so
uncommonly, that some moments passed ere we could regain our normal
vision. We at once sought out the shady side of the rock, and proceeded
to open the hamper. Everything had been thought of; and as the trip had
sharpened our appetites, the cold fowls and ham soon disappeared, and
the bottles of claret cup leaked alarmingly.
The elephant found no difficulty in stowing away all the bread that was
left, while his master was content with a smoke. And so we chatted on,
until the lengthening shadows of the rock warned us to set out on our
homeward way.
That evening our glowing account of the lovely caves, and genuine
praises of the contents of the hamper, reinstated us in the good
opinion of our hostess. This alone was conducive to a good night’s
rest; and a day’s outing under a sun removed only sixteen and a half
degrees from the Equator, and the lurching and jolting on the back of
a terrestrial leviathan, supplied what was wanting.
I was not sorry, therefore, when the retiring hour came round, and I
could pass straight into dreamland.
Caves are exceedingly common in this part of the country, more
especially on the upper reaches of the river. They are considered,
in some measure at least, sacred by the Burmese, who endeavour to
ornament their entrances with images, flags and other devices; but
what ideas they entertain with regard to their origin and formation I
never remember hearing. These particular caves were evidently formed
in the ordinary way; by the action, that is, of water and possibly
some chemical action on oolitic limestone. But how this solitary rock
resisted the violent forces in operation when the principal mass was
removed, would require an expert geologist to explain.
Even here, such a doctor might be as much at fault as his _confrères_
have shown themselves with regard to those singular detached rocks at
Tunbridge Wells, at which they have laboured in vain. Their grooved,
fluted bases unquestionably denote the action of violent currents at
some period or other; and being the fittest, they have survived the
general overthrow. And certainly they have been put to the utmost use
as a show place at that fashionable resort, and much ingenuity has been
expended on making them appear more extensive than they really are.