The Physical Features of Burma
It is common to tell of the physical aspects of a country in one
of the first chapters of any book that may be written giving the
characteristics of any land; but the object of this book is to present,
first, a picture of life in Burma, as the writer and his associates
experienced it. There is a logical order in taking up the study of the
topography, climate, and products of Burma, as they were observed from
time to time in residence and travel through that country. That is
the way the observations herein recorded came to the writer after he
had begun the work and care of a mission in Rangoon and the adjoining
regions.
A missionary soon learns to take an interest in all that affects
the life of the people among whom he labors. He finds that climate
determines the products of a land to a great extent, and these in turn
determine the occupations of the people. He must adjust himself to
these conditions. He also finds that his plans for a people must take
in their present state and their future prospects. These conditions are
largely material. The wealth or poverty of a people determines their
spirit and possibilities to a great extent.
Americans especially, very few of whom have ever traveled or lived in
a tropical country, and who have not studied conditions in the Eastern
hemisphere, except in the best-known portion of the Oriental world,
have great need of enlargement of their views on Asiatic questions. In
nothing is this more evident than on the geography of Southern Asia.
While speaking on missions and Asiatic themes at home recently, I have
often tried to gauge the ideas of my audience by asking them to guess
the length of the Red Sea. I selected this body of water because it is
most familiar to all Bible-students. I take the Red Sea because all
have heard of it and all have seen it mapped from childhood, instead of
the Gulf of Martaban, for instance, which lies off the coast of Burma;
for most of my American readers have scarcely heard of the latter body
of water. The answers to this question from an audience, especially if
it is secured, as it usually has been, on the moment, have been at once
amusing and instructive. The guesses as to the length of the Red Sea
generally vary from “sixty” to “three hundred” miles, while a few have
gone somewhat higher. But only one answer secured in months, and that
from a schoolteacher after reflection and mental calculation, has been
_half_ the length of that historic body of water. Usually an audience
has taken a laugh at the guesser and their own mental estimate when
they have been informed that the Red Sea is about fifteen hundred miles
long. I have sometimes told the man who guessed “one hundred miles” to
multiply all his ideas of the Eastern world by fifteen, and he would
come nearer to the reality than he had been hitherto.
It is common to hear at home all the land commonly spoken of as “India”
as a land of a sameness of character, in climate, people, language, and
products. One province of it, like Burma, is a small section of the
country, just like the rest of the land, and chiefly differing from
the other portions of “India” in geographical lines. But establish
something of the largeness of these complex countries in the mind, and
also their diversity of people and physical conditions, and the man so
informed is prepared to understand that Burma may be reckoned as a land
of considerable importance in itself and worthy of special study.
Burma is a land with an area of seventy thousand square miles. It lies
between the Bay of Bengal and Assam on the west, China on the north,
and French Indo-China and Siam on the east. It also extends through
eighteen degrees of latitude, from ten to twenty-eight north. In shape
it is a little like the folded right hand, with index finger only
extended southward. Its greatest width is about four hundred miles,
while the Tennasserim Coast far to the south is but a narrow strip of
land.
The topography of the country is interesting. There are three principal
rivers, the Irrawaddy (the greatest), the Salween, and the Sitiang.
All these rise in the north, near or beyond the Burmese border, and
flow southward. Between these river basins and to the westward of the
Irrawaddy there run ranges of hills rising to mountains. They range
from small, picturesque hillocks that only serve to divide water-basins
to mountains above ten thousand feet in height. The valleys are
comparatively narrow, but very fertile. The hills are not simply
single crests running parallel with the rivers, but are extensive
successions of ranges quite regular, with indications here and there
of volcanic action. The strata are very much broken. For this reason
the coal-fields of Burma are not of much value, owing to the broken
condition of the strata. When one little portion is worked for a
distance, the vein is lost, being removed or buried too deep for work.
The Irrawaddy River deserves special mention. It rises somewhere in the
heights of Thibet near the headwaters of the Indus and the Ramaputra.
It is noteworthy that the three great rivers of Southern Asia rise
very near each other and flow to the ocean so far apart. The Irrawaddy
breaks through the hills of northern Burma, and descends into the
plains, widening and gathering volume till it reaches the sea. It has
several navigable river tributaries, of which the Chindwin is chief.
Toward the lower end of its course it connects with a network of tidal
creeks that unite with its several mouths, one of which is the Rangoon
River. This system of internal water-ways makes it possible to traverse
all portions of Lower Burma with river steamers of various sizes, from
a steam launch to river boats as large and well equipped as those of
the Mississippi. The enterprising and prosperous Flotilla Company of
Burma has a great fleet of these vessels running on the Irrawaddy and
its tributaries, while the many steamers and launches utilize the
tidal creeks. This great enterprise has no rival for this river-borne
traffic. The amount of business done on the Irrawaddy is enormous. The
Salween is navigable for only thirty miles by ocean steamers, and the
Sitiang not at all at present, though formerly sailing vessels made
ports about its mouth. Steam launches still ply on both these streams
and their tributaries. On all these inland waters there are multitudes
of native boats, of curious but most serviceable pattern. They never
modify these Eastern crafts after any Western design. It is doubtful if
modern ships have made much improvement in their water-lines over many
Eastern boats, which can be seen in different styles everywhere, from
the Red Sea all around the coasts of Southern Asia. They vary greatly
in different countries, and have become fixed along certain accepted
lines from which they do not depart, but they all seem to be good. Of
all Oriental crafts I have seen, none are more picturesque than the
Burma river boats.
[Illustration: PADDY-BOAT]
The mountain areas of Burma affect the country in many ways. They
greatly affect the rainfall. Lower Burma receives the full force of the
monsoon current as it comes in off the Indian Ocean. The consequence
is a heavy rainfall each year, and a regular and bountiful harvest.
Lower Burma has never had a famine. The amount of rainfall varies
from one hundred to three hundred inches during the rainy season
of six months. The western side of the outer range of the hills,
exposed to the same current, has even a heavier fall of rain than
the low lands bordering on the sea. The coast range of hills rises
to a considerable altitude, and as they extend north and south, the
southwest rain currents pour out their water in crossing this range,
and so have little moisture left to furnish rain in the upper valleys
of Burma. While the sea coast round about Rangoon, and the Sitiang and
Irrawaddy Valleys, have abundant rains in the lower portions, as you
go northward in each valley the rainfall steadily decreases until in
portions of Upper Burma there are great areas of land that will seldom
give a crop for lack of moisture. The soil in this arid region is as
fertile as anywhere, and where the great and enlarging canal system
of the Government is effective, they can produce enormous harvests.
But left to the uncertain rainfall, there would be only failure of
crops and famine. Happily this condition does not extend over the most
thickly-populated portion of Burma.
In another respect the hill portion of Burma is important. Compared
with the plains or plateaus of the country, there is a relatively
smaller portion of the province of low elevations than that of India
proper. The greatest level area is bordering on the sea, and is in
consequence much modified by the sea breezes, and the heat is never
very intense for a tropical country. But a large portion of the
province, which is not cooled by the breeze from the sea, has also a
moderate heat for the tropics. I attribute this condition of modified
temperature to the fact that we have no _large plains_ or plateaus.
Unlike India, where the area that becomes superheated is immense, in
Burma the area of low land is small, and therefore is continually
modified by the cooler air from the large adjacent mountain tracts.
This, it seems to me, accounts for the fact that all the seacoast of
Burma is so much cooler than the same kind of elevation of Bengal. They
both alike share the sea breeze for a certain distance; but Bengal
has hundreds of miles of low plain unbroken by high hills, while
Burma’s hills approach near the sea. This gives Burma a relatively
moderate temperature, though so far down in the tropics. All the
valleys of the tropical world are fertile. But a word should be said
about the fertility of the mountain tracts of Burma. Nearly all of
these hills and mountains that I have seen are covered with a dense
growth of forest. The Indian hills are not so. Many of the latter
are entirely barren of trees, and where there is any chance at all
they are cultivated in terraces. But the virgin forests of Burma
stretch hundreds of miles over hills and mountains. Here and there are
villagers, it is true, mostly Karens, in Lower Burma, who cultivate
only small areas; but only one year in a place, making a new clearing
each year to avoid the work of digging or plowing, and then they let
the last year’s clearing grow up to forest again, which it quickly does.
There is room for a vast population to make an easy living in the hills
of Burma alone. If those fertile hills were in America, they would be
all occupied as cattle and horse ranches, if not cultivated. Wherever
the forest is thinned or cut away, a great luxuriant growth of grass
and bamboos springs up, on which cattle feed and flourish. They can get
plenty of grazing the year round in these hills, and there would always
be a ready market for beef and for bullocks for plowing.
Among the many natural resources of Burma, there are two that require
careful attention. Here we find one of the greatest rice-growing
countries of the world. Here also are vast forests of the famous
teak wood, that is used so extensively for ship-building and other
structures.
Rice-growing is the _one_ line of cultivation that characterizes the
land of Burma. In India there are greater rice fields, because the rice
lands are more extensive. But in India they cultivate other crops, and
this even on the rice land. In India they frequently, if not generally,
grow two or more crops on the same land in one year, or different crops
on adjacent land at the same season. But the Burman grows one crop
only, and that is uniformly rice. He is a rice-grower and a rice-eater.
In the plains there is no other grain grown that is generally used
for human food. There is a little Indian corn cultivated, but not in
sufficient amount to break the force of this general statement.
The rice fields of Burma amount to over six million acres. There are
often as many as one hundred bushels of unhusked rice grown on an
acre. Of course, the average yield is far below this amount. Yet the
aggregate rice crop is enormous. It feeds all Burma, and there are
vast quantities shipped to India, China, Europe, and South America.
No year since I have been in Burma has there been insufficient rice
for her people. If rice of a different variety comes to Burma for the
immigrants that are used to the Indian article, there is also much
Burma rice shipped annually to various ports in India.
A word should be added as to rice cultivation. Perhaps all readers are
aware that rice is grown usually in water, though there is some dry
cultivation. The land is inclosed in very small fields, averaging less
than one acre, but often not more than one-tenth of that area. There
are embankments round all these fields, and several inches of water are
kept always on the ground. Sometimes the water is a foot deep. So long
as the rice can have a very little of the upper blade out of the water
it will flourish. The ground is stirred with a wooden rake like a plow
when it is covered with water. The mud is made very fine, and as deep
as this mode of cultivation, will stir it. The rice has been sown in
nurseries, and when from a foot to fifteen inches high it is pulled up,
bound into bundles of approximately one hundred plants each, and taken,
usually in boats, to the prepared field, where it is all transplanted
by hand. Often the root is divided, so that from one grain there come
to be grown several bunches of rice. In appearance a rice field looks
very much like a field of oats. The reader will hardly be prepared to
believe that it takes nearly twice as long to mature a rice crop under
a tropical sun, as it does to grow a field of oats in the northern
latitudes, especially in America. The rice is sown in the nursery in
May or June, and the ripened grain is not harvested before the last
of December or in January. It is all cut with a sickle. I have never
seen any one harvesting with any other instrument in Southern Asia.
The grain is always threshed under the feet of cattle, and winnowed
by hand. An American sees hundreds of ways wherein this crop could be
grown more economically, and some missionary will yet introduce modern
methods successfully. The missionary is the only man likely to succeed
in such a task.
When speaking of the great food-producing industries of Burma, that of
fishing should have special prominence. Burma has a vast area of swamps
submerged every rainy season, and these are classed as “fisheries,”
and a very large revenue is secured from the sale of the fish. The
fisherman makes an excellent living, and the people almost universally
are able to eat fish with their rice. So long has this been the case
that no Burman considers that he has been well fed unless he has fish
of some sort with rice every day. Then he shares the characteristic of
all Asiatics in desiring much condiment with his rice. He therefore
takes the fish, which is of fine flavor and excellent quality when
fresh, and rots it, and mixes with it peppers and other spices until
it suits his taste and smell, and then feasts! Other less Burmanized
people declare that his “gnape,” as he calls this preparation, is
simply very rotten fish.
The teak-wood forests, before mentioned, are among the most valuable
in the world. This famous wood will not shrink under the most intense
sun’s rays, nor will it expand when wet with the rain. It does not
warp, and has a smooth grain and works easily. In the tropics, when
used for building purposes, it is not eaten by white ants, which
destroy almost all other building material in hot countries. The
Government has taken hold of this industry, and protects the trees
from fires, regulates the cutting, and does all it can to maintain and
extend these exceedingly valuable forests. The cutting of the trees,
their transport to the sea, and conversion into lumber is one of the
greatest organized industries in the country. The amount of money
required to carry on this business in the process of cutting the timber
from the stump, hundreds of miles inland, gathering it out of the
forests, carrying it in rafts to the seaports, and putting it through
the great sawmills, to the final disposal to the European and other
purchasers, is enormous. The time element is a large one. It takes
years to get these logs through the process. I have often desired to
know just how long this timber has been waiting or is in transit from
the time it was felled. This at least must be several years, for the
logs often show signs of hard usage through a long period. They are
sometimes cracked and worn as if decades old.
[Illustration: THE ELEPHANT AT WORK]
It is in this timber industry that the elephants of Burma are very
useful. All travelers visiting Burma have at least seen the elephant at
work in the mills of Rangoon. They drag the great logs from the river,
place them in position to be guided to the saws, drag away the slabs
and squared lumber, pile all these in orderly heaps ready for further
handling, and manipulate the logs and ropes and their own chains in a
marvelous way. They go in and out of the mills with every part of the
great machinery running, and never make a false motion to tramp on a
carriage, become entangled in the belting, or allow a whirling saw
to touch their precious skins. Why a great beast with such strength,
joined to such intelligence and self-possession, will submit to the
feeble and often stupid man who sits on his neck, and work for man at
all, is a marvel. But the transient visitor only sees the elephant
working in the mills. This is only a small part of his task. He does
all the heavy dragging of the logs to get them to the river from the
forest where they are grown. This is often over the most difficult
ground. He will go into a thicket where no other beast can go, where a
horse or an ox could not climb at all, or if he did, would be perfectly
useless for work. But the elephant goes into these worst places and
drags the logs over fallen trees, bowlders, and through mud, not being
dismayed by muddy ditches or rocky steeps.
It is no wonder that the Government protects the herds of wild
elephants. But sometimes they invade the rice fields in great numbers.
When they do, the destruction is so great that the officials give
license to go and shoot them. Sometimes the hunters succeed in killing
a few. If they are males, the tusks are very valuable. The feet are
also skinned, including the leg, sole of the feet, and the nails,
and when so prepared are often used as waste-paper baskets, and are
regarded as great curiosities.
Burma has great ruby mines; but as these stones are not of so much
value as formerly, the mining is not to be considered as constituting a
great industry. But the oil fields of Burma are very valuable, and it
is supposed that the industry is as yet only in its early beginning.
It is said that the company that owns the chief refinery, and many of
the oil fields, will not sell any part of the stock they hold, and that
they are getting rich rapidly.
It will be seen from the foregoing facts that Burma is a great land in
itself. It belongs to the Indian Empire, and it is the richest province
in the whole country. It pays all its own expenses, which are heavy,
and gives largely to the deficit of other provinces. As a field for
mission work, there is none more promising so far as natural conditions
are concerned.