THE MEH KONG AT KIANG HSEN—RINGWORM—EXTENSIVE RUINS—DESCRIPTION OF
CITY—IMPORTANCE OF SITUATION FOR TRADE—CHINESE SETTLERS FROM
SSUCHUAN, KWEICHAU, AND YUNNAN—PROJECTED RAILWAY—SURVEYS BEING MADE
BY KING OF SIAM—EXCURSIONS FROM KIANG HSEN—TEAK-FORESTS—ROBBING AN
IMAGE—LEGEND OF KIANG MEE-ANG—ANCIENT CITIES—COMPARISON BETWEEN
ANCIENT BRITONS AND SHANS—ANCIENT PRINCIPALITY OF TSEN—KIANG
HUNG—DESTRUCTION OF KIANG HSEN—CARRIED AWAY CAPTIVES—TREACHERY IN
WAR—POPULATION OF ZIMMÉ CHIEFLY SLAVES—KIANG HSEN REOCCUPIED IN
1881—RESETTLING IT—ACTION OF KING OF SIAM—FRIENDLY FOOTING OF
MISSIONARIES—VIEW ACROSS THE KIANG HSEN PLAIN—FLOODED
COUNTRY—LEAVE FOR KIANG HAI—A WHITE ELEPHANT—BRANCHES AS
SUNSHADES—ELEPHANT-FLIES—EMIGRANTS FROM LAPOON—BEAUTIFUL SCENERY—MR
ARCHER’S DESCRIPTION OF TRAFFIC ALONG THE ROUTE.
Whilst the elephants were being unloaded and the servants were preparing
breakfast, the Chow Phya, or district officer of Kiang Hai, who had been
deputed to accompany us to Kiang Hsen, went to the Chow Hluang’s to
inform him of our arrival, and we strolled to the bank of the Meh Kong,
the Cambodia river of the French, to see the view.
We found ourselves a few miles above the entrance of the Meh Khoke,
which is here separated from the Meh Khum by a long hillock, called Loi
Chan (the steep hill). Just below the mouth of the Meh Khoke, the Meh
Kong commences its great eastern bend, which stretches through two
degrees of latitude to Luang Prabang.
The distance between Kiang Hsen and Luang Prabang by boat is about 200
miles, and the journey was performed by Dr M‘Gilvary in six days. The
first day’s journey took him to Kiang Khong, a city of two or three
thousand inhabitants, and the capital of a district under Muang Nan. In
describing the river between Kiang Khong and Luang Prabang he says: “The
river is a mile wide in places, and where the channel is narrowed it
rushes along with frightful rapidity. Mountains rise from either bank to
the height of three or four thousand feet. The river fills the bottom of
a long winding valley, and as we glided swiftly down it there seemed to
move by us the panorama of two half-erect, ever-changing landscapes of
woodland verdure and blossom. Only as we neared the city did we see
rough and craggy mountain-peaks and barren towering precipices.”
[Illustration:
_View of Loi Chan from Kiang Hsen._
]
The scenery from the bank of the river at Kiang Hsen was magnificent.
The great river flowing in its deep channel, partially restricted by
sandbanks, was a mile wide, 21 feet below its banks, and unfordable. To
the east, about 40 miles distant, a mass of mountains about 30 miles in
length, and perhaps forming part of the long winding valley spoken of by
Dr M‘Gilvary, showed boldly against the sky; to the north-east, nearer
the river, rose the precipitous hills we had previously seen from Pang
Mau Pong; and between the mountains and the river, the country appeared
to be a vast forest-covered plain, in which low hills were visible at 4
and 20 miles’ distance.
To the south, beyond Lāun Ten (the island of the embankment), a
tree-clad island, containing the ruins of many religious buildings,
which is said to have been the site of an extensive city, and to have
been joined on to the mainland, is the mouth of the Meh Khoke; and
beyond it, on the same bank of the river, Loi Meh Yap closes in the
view, and separates the valley of the Meh Khoke from that of the Meh
Yap.
On our return to the _sala_, the Chow Phya of Kiang Hai informed us that
the Chow Hluang was away on a fishing excursion, and that the Chow Hona,
the second chief, was absent at Zimmé. The son of the Chow Hluang and
the chief Chow Phya of Kiang Hsen had returned with him to pay us a
visit, and see how they might add to our comfort. They said that
doubtless the chief would return by the day after the morrow, as
although some distance away, he would certainly hasten back as soon as
the messengers they had already despatched reached him.
[Illustration:
_View of hills east of the Meh Kong river._
]
The son of the chief was sorry his father was not there to welcome us,
and still more so that, owing to smallpox raging in his own family, he
was himself unable to offer us hospitality. He thought we would be more
comfortable in the court-house, which was a new and capacious building;
but on visiting it with him, we found it in an unfinished condition, and
only partially floored, so determined to remain in our smaller but more
cosy quarters.
Seeing the Chow Phya covered with ringworm, I gave him some Goa powder,
and told him how to apply it. I afterwards learnt that it worked a
perfect cure, for the Chow Phya showed his gratitude by writing to Dr
M‘Gilvary, and forwarding me a copy of the history of Kiang Hsen, which
I had expressed a wish to obtain. The work, however, proved to be
valueless, except as a curiosity. Mrs M‘Gilvary, who kindly offered to
translate it for me, finding it utterly unreliable—indeed, merely an
olio of Buddhist legends and improbable events—soon threw the manuscript
aside, considering it useless to waste further time upon it.
After breakfast we rambled through the city, about half of which was
covered with the remains of fifty-three temples, and of monasteries and
pagodas in their grounds. The seeds of the pipal tree, _Ficus
religiosa_, had been dropped by birds into the interstices of the brick
masonry of the pagodas, and grown into large trees. The roots of the
trees, after shattering the masonry, had prevented it from falling, by
clasping it in their strangling embrace. Splendid bronze images of
Gaudama, generally in a good state of preservation, were scattered about
in every direction, and often half buried in the _débris_ of the fallen
buildings.
[Illustration:
_The great bend of the Meh Kong from Kiang Hsen._
]
The images varied from 6 inches to 7 feet in height, and one known as
Taung-lan-ten is an object of pilgrimage to hundreds of worshippers from
the British and Siamese Shan States. This image, which is about 5 feet
in height, has a legend attached to it, which relates that, when the
great bronze image, now at Ava, known as the Aracan Buddha, was cast, a
fabulous bird, called a galoon, alighted at the site, and fanned the
furnace with its wings; and a _naga_, or dragon, came and blew the fire
up with its breath. As their reward for these meritorious acts, Gaudama
resolved that in their next birth they should be born men, and the
galoon should cast a similar image at Kiang Hsen, and the _naga_ one at
Zimmé. A bamboo and thatched shed had recently been erected over the
image as a temporary shelter, in place of the handsome building, with
pillars and tiled roof, whose remains lay shattered around it.
[Illustration:
_Ruins at Kiang Hsen._
]
What struck me most in the ruins of the temples was the vast number of
the images, the excellence of the plaster which still adhered to the
remains of the massive brick walls and pillars, and the beauty of the
ornamental decorations. The people of the city in olden times must have
been numerous, wealthy, and highly skilled in the arts, to account for
the number of the monasteries, and the workmanship displayed in the
images and buildings.
Kiang Hsen is built in the form of an irregular parallelogram, with its
sides facing the cardinal points. The city, which is about 11,057 feet
long, and 3900 feet wide, is protected on three sides by double ramparts
and a ditch. The eastern side is unprotected; the fortifications,
together with about a quarter of a mile in width of the city, having
been swept away by the encroachment of the river. The outer rampart,
having a base of 70 feet, is 12 feet wide at the top, and 14 feet high;
its outer slope is much flatter than the inner one. The inner rampart
has a base of 75 feet, and is 18 feet in height. In its centre is a wall
2½ feet wide, from which the earthen slopes extend for 30 feet within
the city, and for 43 feet outside. The crenelated top of the wall having
been destroyed, a strong teak palisade 6 feet high has been erected
against its inner side as a protection. The ramparts are 97 feet apart
from the centre of their crests, and the bottom of the ditch is 30 feet
wide, and has silted up to the level of the ground inside and outside
the city. The entrances to the city are fortified by double courtyards,
defended by brick walls and palisading, and by an outside ditch, as
shown on the sketch. There is a large gap in the southern ramparts,
which is said to have been made when the Lao Shans attacked the city in
1797.
[Illustration:
_Plaster decoration on pillars._
]
Kiang Hsen is admirably situated for purposes of trade, at the
intersection of routes leading from China, Burmah, Karenni, the Shan
States, Siam, Tonquin, and Annam. It forms, in fact, a centre of
intercourse between all the Indo-Chinese races, and the point of
dispersion for caravans along the diverging trade-routes. When the
country is opened up by railways, and peace is assured to the Shan
States to the north by our taking them fully under our protection, the
great trade that will spring up between Burmah, Siam, the Shan States,
and China, will make the city of great importance. Its position as a
commercial centre in the midst of the vast plains which extend on both
sides of the river; its bountiful climate and productive soil; the
wealth in teak and other timber, as well as in minerals of the
surrounding regions; and the fact, brought out by Mr Bourne in his
report, that Chinese from Ssuchuan (Szechuen), Kweichau, and Yunnan, are
settling in the Shan States to the north of it, will soon tempt
immigrants to take up the now vacant land, and ensure the city and
district a large and prosperous population.
The King of Siam is fully aware of the great value of the region, and
has been doing his utmost for several years to increase its population,
by resettling the country with the descendants of its inhabitants that
were taken captive, or else had fled from the Burmese into the Siamese
Shan States. The king is likewise having surveys made by English
engineers for the portions of the Burmah-Siam-China Railway lying within
his territories, and has likewise instituted surveys for branches to
connect Zimmé, Luang Prabang, and Korat with the railway. These surveys,
together with estimates for the construction of the lines, are to be
completed in three years from March 1888.
During our stay at Kiang Hsen, I spent my time in sketching, taking
observations, and in collecting information about the country. I was
thus unable to accompany my companions upon some of their rambles. One
of their excursions led them to Muang Hit, the site of a city on the
east of the river, about three miles to the north of Kiang Hsen. No
remains were found, with the exception of the old moat, an inscription
on the bronze cap of a pagoda, giving A.D. 1732 as the date of its
erection, and a house and clearing that had recently been deserted.
Iron-mines exist near the ruins, but the neighbouring country was
uninhabited except by deer, tigers, leopards, wild cattle, and other
wild animals. Three Burmese Shan villages, containing 130 houses between
them, had recently been built a mile or two above Muang Hit. The
boundary between the Burmese and British Shan States would therefore
cross the river about this city.
[Illustration:
_View of western hills._
]
Teak is the principal tree in the forests on both sides of the river,
and even the ruins in Kiang Hsen were partially hidden by teak-trees
that had sprung up since its desertion. From Kiang Hsen to Kiang Hai,
teak is found on most of the hillocks.
Another day they visited the site of the ancient city of Kiang Mee-ang,
which is situated on the west bank of the river, five or six miles above
Kiang Hsen, at the point where the Meh Kee-ang joins the Meh Kong. It
had lately been colonised by the Ping Shans, and about forty houses had
been built there at the time of Dr Cushing’s and Dr M‘Gilvary’s visit.
The path to the ruins led along the bank of the river, and was thickly
wooded with excellent teak-trees. No remains were found, with the
exception of the moat, and the ruins of a shrine which had been erected
on the summit of a hill.
The principal image in the temple had been executed in plastered
brickwork, covered with the ordinary coatings of _damma_ and gold-leaf,
and some sacrilegious plunderer had knocked its head off in order to
obtain any treasure that might be contained inside. According to Dr
Cushing, it is the custom of the Shans, when constructing a brick image,
to make a square cavity running down from the neck to the vicinity of
the heart, to be used as a receptacle for pieces of silver, which are
generally put in to represent that organ.
On asking the chief, on his return to Kiang Hsen, about Kiang Mee-ang,
he said there was a remarkable legend attached to it, which ran as
follows: The chief of Kiang Mee-ang (who died three years before the
destruction of Kiang Hsen), owing to his abundant merit, had the power
of calling up armed allies from any direction to which he turned his
face. During his lifetime his State was at peace. When the Ping Shans
conquered the country, they sent his body, which was covered with a
complete mask of gold-leaf (also an ancient Egyptian custom), to the
Siamese king at Bangkok. The King of Siam, knowing the merit of the
deceased ruler, and fearing that his power might adhere to his corpse,
had it buried face downwards, as no army could invade Siam from that
direction.
The chief told us that many other cities were scattered about the
country, but owing to their having been depopulated during the wars of
last and the beginning of this century, most of their names had been
forgotten. There are, according to him, many ruins at Peuk Sa (a
consultation), which is otherwise known as Kiang Hsen Noi, and lies
between the city and the Meh Khoke. Muang Poo Kah (the city of the
kine-grass troops) lay to the north; Muang Ko, about two days’ journey
above the city; Kiang Hpan, near Loi Ta; Muang Kong (the submerged
city), to the south near the Meh Khoke; Viang Wai (the bamboo city), to
the west of Ban Meh Kee; Muang Loi (the city of the hills), a mile to
the north of Kiang Hsen, and Kiang Mak Nau.
Some of the cities whose names are lost are known as Chinese cities, and
are said to be the remains of fortified camps erected by the Chinese in
bygone ages, during their various invasions of the country. Others are
said to have been built by the Lawas when they held sway in the country.
Some were erected by angels, _nyaks_ (serpents or dragons), and genii;
and those of later construction, by the Shans.
Many of the cities bore a strong resemblance to the ancient Celtic
fortresses found by Cæsar in Britain, which are described as fastnesses
in the woods, surrounded by a mound and trench, calculated to afford the
people a retreat and protection during hostile invasion of their
territory. The Venerable Bede, who was born in the seventh century of
our era, described the mode of erecting fortified Celtic camps as
follows: “A vallum, or rampart, by which camps are fortified for
repelling the attack of enemies, is made of turf cut regularly out of
the earth and built high above the ground like a wall, having a ditch
before it, out of which the turf has been dug, above which stakes made
of very strong timbers are fixed.” This exactly describes many of the
fortified cities and camps in the Shan States.
There is likewise a resemblance between the appearance, customs, and
habits of the Shan tribes, and those of the earliest known inhabitants
of Britain, who are said to have belonged to the tawny, black-haired
section of mankind. Both were divided into numerous petty tribes and
sections of tribes, often at war with one another, and generally devoid
of everything like unity or cohesion, even under pressure of foreign
invasion; both were given to offering up human sacrifices in order to
appease the wrath of local deities; and both races tattooed their
bodies. The Shan house-architecture likewise resembles that of the
ancient Britons, whose houses and cattle-sheds were formed with reeds
and logs, surrounded by stockades constructed of felled trees. Houses
built of bamboo matting and logs, with palisaded enclosures, are the
ordinary type of architecture in the Shan States.
At one time the principality of Hsen or Tsen (some Shans aspirate the
initial, and some do not) was far more extensive than it is at present.
From B.C. 330 to B.C. 221, when the kingdom of Tsoo was conquered by the
Emperor of Ts’in, Tsen was tributary to Tsoo; and at the time the
Chinese conquered South-western Yunnan (B.C. 108), Tsen, then a state of
Ma Mo (a Shan kingdom in the upper part of the Irrawaddi valley)
confederation, extended southwards from the Yunnan lake, and eastwards
to Nanning. It probably comprised the Shan States of Tsen-i-fa or Kiang
Hung, Tsen-i or Theinni, and Kiang Tsen amongst its _muangs_, which
became feudatory to Burmah between A.D. 1522–1615.
The upper part of the old principality of Tsen, when formed into a
separate State, was known to the Chinese as Chan Li (Chang Li), and
later as Che-li. This principality was broken up by the Chinese in A.D.
1730, when they forced the chief to pay tribute for the six _pannas_ (or
districts) lying to the south of Ssumao and to the east of the Meh Kong,
and annexed the portion of his territory lying to the east of the Meh
Kong, that extended as far north as half-way between Puerh and Chen Yuan
Fu, and as far south as and comprising Ssumao. Thus the chief of Che-li
(the Kiang Hung of the Shans, and the Kaing Yung-gyi of the Burmese)
became tributary to China, as well as feudatory to Burmah.
In conversation with the Chow Hluang of Kiang Hsen, he told us that he
was descended from the ancient line of Kiang Hsen, as well as from the
ruling line of Zimmé. The present capital, according to him, was built
in 1699, and destroyed by the Ping Shans in 1804. In giving the history
of its destruction, he said that in 1778, four years after the Ping
Shans had thrown off their allegiance to Burmah and become feudatory to
Siam, the Lao Shans of Vieng Chang and Luang Prabang became tributary to
Siam, and, urged on by Siam, besieged Kiang Hsen from 1794 to 1797.
During the siege the Lao forces were commanded by Phya Anoo, the chief
of Vieng Chang, who, enraged at the long resistance, issued a
proclamation declaring that every male found in the city should be put
to death on its capture. This made the resistance of the besieged
desperate. The Lao finally succeeded in undermining and breaching the
middle of the southern wall, when a storming-party under Phya Tap Lik
made an entrance; but so fiercely were they met by the defenders, that
they were not only driven back, but their leader was captured, and
subsequently drowned in the Meh Kong. A month later the Lao forces gave
up the siege, being unaware of the fact that famine was raging in the
city, and would, if the siege had continued, soon have forced its
inhabitants to surrender.
Between 1779 and 1803, according to the history of Zimmé, Kiang Hsen was
attacked six times by the Ping Shans, and only taken by them in 1804.
During the siege by the Lao in 1797, a body of 300 Ping Shans
established themselves as an army of observation near the city, but did
not take part in the operations. An agreement is said to have been made
with their commander, that if he would return with 3000 troops, the
inhabitants would kill the Burmese troops and open the gates.
Previous to its fall in 1804, the commander of the Ping troops, which
included the joint forces of Zimmé, Lakon, Nan, and Pheh, secretly
informed the chief of Kiang Hsen that they had only come to accede to
his former proposal, and merely wished Kiang Hsen to throw off the
Burmese yoke and become feudatory to Siam, as the Ping Shans had already
done; and he promised that, if the inhabitants of Kiang Hsen would
massacre the Burmese governor and his troops and open the gates, the
Ping Shans would form a defensive and offensive alliance with them. The
inhabitants of Kiang Hsen accordingly slew the Burmese governor and the
300 Burmese soldiers who were within the walls, and opened the gates to
the Ping Shans. They soon found to their cost that they had been
treacherously dealt with. The city was destroyed; some of the people
escaped across the Salween and settled in Mokmai and Monay, and the rest
were taken captive to the Ping States, and distributed amongst them.
With the Shans treachery is an ordinary occurrence in warfare: the
persons deluded are ashamed at having been taken in; the successful
party chuckles and crows over his cleverness.
From the time when Kiang Hsen was captured till 1810, Ping Shan armies
frequently raided into the Burmese Shan States—proceeding as far west as
the Salween, and as far north as the border of China—sacked the towns,
and carried away the inhabitants into captivity. The late General
M‘Leod, when at Zimmé in 1837, states in his journal that “the greater
part of the inhabitants of Zimmé are people from Kiang Tung, Muang Niong
(Yong), Kiang Then (Tsen or Hsen), and many other places to the
northward. They were originally subjects of Ava (Burmah).” In another
passage he says: “They, with the Talaings (Peguan Burmese), comprise
more than two-thirds of the population of the country.”
The Chow Hluang told me that before he left Lapoon to take up the
government of Kiang Hsen, when it was reoccupied in 1881, his retainers
numbered fully 30,000 souls, amongst whom were 2500 fighting-men. Every
man from eighteen to seventy years of age, who is not a slave, is
reckoned as a fighting man; and allowing one grown man to every five
souls, there must have been fully 6000 grown men amongst his dependants.
This proportion between full-grown slaves and fighting-men shows that
there were about 17,500 slaves amongst his 30,000 retainers. The
descendants of Burmese refugees and captives in war are classed as
slaves by the Siamese and the Ping Shans, and are parcelled out amongst
the ruling classes. His statement must be taken with a grain or two of
salt, as the chiefs are apt to give Falstaffian accounts of the numbers
of their retainers.
[Illustration:
_A Shan house in Kiang Hsen._
]
In order to repopulate Kiang Hsen, which had been deserted for
seventy-seven years, the King of Siam ordered a list to be made of the
descendants of captives that had been taken from that State, so that
they might be sent there. This list, when forwarded to Bangkok, included
500 full-grown men in Lapoon, 1000 men in Lakon, and only 370 men in
Zimmé. The chief of Nan, although there were over 1000 full-grown men in
his State descended from Kiang Hsen captives, refused to comply with the
order, on the plea that Nan had lately repopulated the country to the
north of the great bend of the Meh Kong. He further stated that he would
on no account form a joint settlement with people from the Shan States
of Zimmé, Lakon, and Lapoon; but if they failed in being able to settle
Kiang Hsen, Nan by itself would settle it. The chief of Lakon likewise
remonstrated against the order, urging, as an excuse for not obeying it,
that, as his State had established and repopulated Penyow and Ngow, it
was but just that the other States should have the glory of establishing
Kiang Hsen.
The King of Siam, having but a small hold upon Nan, thought fit to admit
its excuse, but ordered that Lakon must send 1000 full-grown men; Zimmé,
1000; Pheh, 300; and Lapoon the whole of the dependants of the prince
who had been appointed ruler of Kiang Hsen. Lakon absolutely refused to
comply with this order, and it was only after he was charged with
rebellion by the king that he consented to send between 500 and 600 men
with their families to Kiang Hsen. Up to the time of my visit the people
had been merely arriving in dribblets, and only 607 houses had been
erected in the State, of which 139 were in the city. The Chow Hluang
said many immigrants from Lakon, Zimmé, and Lapoon were then on their
way to Kiang Hsen, as the King of Siam was determined that the full
tally ordered by him should be completed. Many of these immigrants were
met by me when returning to Kiang Hai. On the Burmese side of the
frontier the Moné Shans, the Ngio, had erected 641 houses.
The Chow Hluang appeared to be very angry with the chief of Lapoon, his
former suzerain, for preventing some of the 2500 serfs, who had offered
to follow him as their liege lord, from leaving Lapoon. It is the custom
among the Ping Shans for a serf to have the right of changing his
allegiance from one lord to another if he wishes to do so, and this
right has always acted as a great check to the growth of oppression. On
the Chow Hluang being appointed to Kiang Hsen, 2500 serfs placed their
names on his list, and offered to accompany him with their families and
slaves.
The rainfall is not nearly as plentiful in Lapoon as it is in Kiang
Hsen, and the plains of Kiang Hsen are renowned for their fruitfulness:
thus the people would greatly improve their prospects by the change;
besides which, there are always fewer Government monopolies in the
frontier districts. Kiang Hsen, being made into a separate State, would
not be dependent upon Lapoon. The Chow Hluang of the latter State was
therefore naturally averse to losing a large body of his people, and had
consequently obstructed the emigration by all the means in his power.
The chief of Kiang Hsen, tired of remonstrating with the chief of
Lapoon, had appealed to Zimmé and Bangkok to have him compelled to send
his adherents to Kiang Hsen.
The chief of Kiang Hsen was an old acquaintance and friend of Dr
M‘Gilvary, and seemed well pleased to see him. Nothing struck me more
during my journeys than the high estimation in which the American
missionaries were held by the chiefs. Not only were they on a kindly and
friendly footing with them, but by their bold strictures upon acts of
injustice, and by exposing and expostulating against the wickedness and
senselessness of certain of the reigning superstitions, they had become
a beneficent power in the country.
During our stay the chief did all he could to make us comfortable; sent
us the best fruit, fowls, and vegetables at his disposal, and allowed an
ox to be killed for us, although there were at that time not more than
sixty oxen amongst the settlers in the whole region. After the animal
was slaughtered, cut up, and removed, its late companions, attracted by
the scent, gathered round the spot in the most pathetic manner, sniffing
at the ground, and time after time, when driven away, returning, and
wandering uneasily about, as if aware that some ill fate had befallen
their comrade.
The day before we left Kiang Hsen, I took a walk to the pagoda on Loi
Saun-ka-tee, the hill to the north of the city, in order to sketch the
hills to the west of the plain, and, as far as possible, fix their
position. The air was clear, and I got a splendid view. Loi Htong, Loi
Ya Tow, and Loi Ta, which I had previously sketched on entering the
Kiang Hsen plain, now lay a little to the north of west, at a distance
of about seventeen miles. Farther to the north, Loi Pa Hem loomed up in
the distance, and seemed not to belong to the same system of hills: this
hill was passed by M‘Leod when on his way to Kiang Tung in 1837. The
great plain we were looking at, in which a few hillocks outcropped,
extended to the foot of the mountains, but its northern and southern
extensions were hidden by the low hills on which we were standing, and
the hillocks which we had skirted on our way to the city.
[Illustration:
_View of hills west of Kiang Hsen Plain from pagoda on hill._
]
On calling to say good-bye, before leaving on March 24th, I asked the
chief about the floods that occasionally happened in the plain to the
south of the Meh Khum. These, he said, were chiefly caused by the
flood-waters of the Meh Kong backing up the water of the Meh Khum. When
the Meh Kong was at its highest, the inundation sometimes rose two and a
half feet over the bank, but the flood never extended north of the Meh
Khum, nor farther inland than Loi Champa and Hong Seu-a Teng (the
fishery where the tiger leapt); and even in this strip of plain there
was a space between the Meh Chun and the Meh Khum, extending to Ban Kan
Hta, which was never overflowed. The land near the mouth of the Meh
Khoke, and for some distance up-stream, was also subject to inundation,
the flow of the water in that river being impeded by waterweeds. Having
finished my calls, and made presents to the chief and officials, and
thanked them for their hospitality, we had the elephants loaded, and a
little after one o’clock in the afternoon left the city.
The first night we halted at Pang Mau Pong, where we had stayed on our
way to Kiang Hsen. I chose a different elephant for the return journey,
much against the wish of the Chow Phya, who was accompanying us; it
being considered _infra dig_. for a gentleman to ride any but a male
beast. But I preferred ease to dignity; my former long-legged elephant
having jolted me with its jerking pace, and the one I chose, although a
female, moving with an exceptionally easy gait. The elephant-driver, on
my noticing that its head was salmon-coloured speckled with darker
spots, assured me that if it had been a male, it would have been
honoured as a white elephant, and presented to the King of Siam. My eyes
had become so inflamed with the constant glare from the white paths, and
from peering at the small figures on the silver rim of the prismatic
compass, that I was obliged to give up night-work as far as possible,
and on my return to England I had to commence wearing spectacles.
[Illustration:
_City enclosure. Sketch of an entrance to Kiang Hsen._
]
The next morning we started at 6 A.M., all feeling much better for our
long halt at Kiang Hsen. The boys were quite rejuvenated, and walked
along briskly under their umbrellas in the fresh morning air, singing
scraps of songs as they went, joking with each other, and with all whom
they met. When tired by a long journey they become jaded, and walk as if
they have tar on their feet. After passing two caravans of laden cattle
conveying the goods of some immigrants from Zimmé, we halted at a
village to purchase fresh vegetables, but could only procure a few
onions. Some of the trees had sprouted after the rain on the 21st, and
everything was looking fresher than before.
Starting again, we passed some men carrying eel-spears, and stopped for
breakfast at Kyoo Pow on the banks of the Meh Chun, where we bought some
bringals and mustard-leaves. Many doves were cooing in the trees, and
did not go into a pie, as I refused to let the boys have the gun to
shoot them. We likewise saw a few green paroquets.
After breakfast we were off again, the elephant-men carrying leafy
branches to shelter their eyes, as we were proceeding due west. We
passed another caravan of laden cattle, and halted for the night at Ban
Meh Kee. I had thoroughly enjoyed the journey—being mounted on an easier
beast, and having a complete holiday, as I had previously surveyed the
route.
Next day we woke up with the thermometer marking 57°, and were off
before 6 A.M. An hour later we met a caravan of sixty-three laden oxen
conducted by Burmese Shans on their way to Kiang Tung. The leading oxen
had masks, embroidered with beads, on their faces, surmounted by
peacocks’ tails. We then entered the evergreen forest—where the gibbons
were wailing, and doing wondrous feats of agility, outleaping Leotard at
every spring—and halted for breakfast amongst some gigantic _kanyin_ and
_thyngan_ trees.
In the afternoon we made a short march to our former halting-place at
Meh Khow Tone. The gadflies in the forest were nearly an insupportable
nuisance. These vampires were so intent upon drawing blood, that they
never moved as my hand slowly approached to crunch them. They are
noiseless on the wing, and painless in their surgery. One is unaware of
their presence until a ruddy streak appears on one’s clothing. The
elephants constantly scraped up the dust with their trunks to blow at
the flies, where they could not reach them with the leafy branches that
they carried. Our boys hurried along, armed like the elephants, slashing
at the flies on their shoulders and backs. We were all glad to reach the
camp.
Shortly before halting we passed several hundred emigrants from Lapoon,
squatting down and enjoying their mid-day rest, with their packs by
their side, and their oxen grazing close by. A great part of their
baggage was borne by the men on shoulder-bamboos.
We were off before six the next morning, and after passing fifteen Kiang
Tung Shans on their way back from Maulmain with their purchases, a
Chinaman carrying three huge iron pots for distilling, and caravans of
forty cattle carrying the goods of some of the Lapoon emigrants, we
entered the Yung Leh rice-fields. Rain had evidently fallen since we
passed through them on our way to Kiang Hsen; the scene was changed as
by an enchanter’s wand, and had now the aspect of spring. Young leaves
were sprouting on the trees, even the evergreens were decked with them,
while the leaf-dropping bamboos looked quite fresh, the rain having
freed them from their coatings of dust. Paddy-birds had arrived, and
were perched in flocks upon some of the trees, making them in the
morning mist look a mass of white blossoms. Five great _jo-jas_
(slate-coloured cranes) strutted through the plain, companies of caravan
Shans were dotted about, under temporary mat shelters, with their packs
stacked by their sides, and large herds of cattle were grazing in the
distance. The mist rising and falling as it cleared off the valley, gave
us beautiful peeps at houses nestled in the orchards, which framed
either side of the plain. The whole scene formed an ideal landscape, the
realisation of an artist’s dream—a scene to which one would fain recur.
After halting for a quarter of an hour at the monastery in Ban Doo, to
bargain with the abbot for some magical and medicinal books, we hurried
along to the ford of the Meh Khoke, crossed the river, and were welcomed
by our old friend the _jo-ja_, who still acted as sentinel to the
rest-house outside Kiang Hai.
In the account of his journey from Kiang Hsen to Kiang Hai in February
1887, Mr Archer, our consul at Zimmé, brings out the importance of the
trade converging at Kiang Hai, and passing over the portion of the route
we had traversed to the Burmese Shan States and China, along which we
propose the railway to China should be carried. He states that “the road
from Ban Me Khi (Meh Kee) to Chienghai (Kiang Hai) is probably the
greatest and most important thoroughfare in the whole of the north of
Siam, and the traffic here is comparatively very considerable: in the
course of a day I passed many caravans of pack-animals, some consisting
of a long file of over a hundred bullocks. The greater proportion of the
traders were Ngios (Burmese Shans) from Chiengtung (Kiang Tung), who
came to purchase goods in Chiengmai and Lakhon (Zimmé and Lakon),
chiefly cotton goods, iron, and salt. Very few of the Laos (Ping Shans)
seem to venture into Chiengtung territory for trading purposes; in fact,
it is apparent that the Laos cannot compete with the Ngio and Toungthoo
traders and pedlars. This, again, is the route taken by the Ho, or
Yunnanese traders, on their yearly trading expeditions to Moulmein
(Maulmain).”
In another report Mr Archer gives the route now taken by Chinese
caravans from Yunnan to Ootaradit (Utaradit), the city at the head of
navigation for large boats on the Meh Nam. He says: “The route followed
by this caravan was from Yunnan (Fu) to Puerh, Ssumao, Kiang Hung, Muang
Long, Muang Lim, Kiang Hsen, Kiang Hai, Peh, and Utaradit or Tha-It.
These caravans come down to Tha-It every year, but the greater part go
eastward towards Chieng Mai (Zimmé), and some as far as British Burmah.
These traders are pure Yunnanese, and are called Hō by the Siamese.” It
is interesting to know that this direct route from Yunnan Fu to Penyow,
which lies between Kiang Hai and Peh, passes through the same places as
our proposed railway from Maulmain, and will therefore greatly
facilitate its survey.