A VOYAGE UP THE IRRAWADDY.
While the boys were busy with what we have just read, the Doctor was
endeavoring to arrange a journey into the interior, and, if possible, to
enable his young friends to see the King of Ava and his capital city.
But a serious difficulty arose, and rendered a visit to the capital
impossible.
The old King of Burmah had died a short time before; his successor, King
Theebaw, was unfriendly to foreigners, and apparently to everybody else,
and there was a good prospect of another Burmese war. Theebaw had
imprisoned some of the European residents of Mandalay, the capital, but
afterward released them through fear of trouble with the British
authorities. The English had withdrawn their official representative at
Mandalay, and the steamers ceased to run from Rangoon to the capital; an
insurrection had broken out among the Burmese, the exact extent of which
was not known; small pox had appeared in the palace, the king's brother
and uncle having died of it, while the king himself was supposed to have
been attacked with the disease. The astrologers at the royal court were
endeavoring to ward off the effects of the evil spirits, and ordered
sacrifices to appease them. Hundreds of young girls were seized in the
streets of Mandalay, and sacrificed in obedience to this order, and all
who could leave the city were doing so. It was dangerous to go to
Mandalay, and besides there was no way of getting there, since
communication was cut off by the stoppage of the steamboats.
The next day news was received that the king had arrested about fifty of
his relatives, and intended to put them to death, so as to prevent any
intrigues for his place on the throne. They were kept in prison for a
while, where they were treated with great cruelty, and finally murdered.
Of course the trip to Mandalay was abandoned at once; but as the
steamers were still running to Thayetmyo, which is in British
territory, and near the frontier, it was determined to go there.
Passage was taken on a steamer leaving the following day, and at the
hour appointed for departure our friends were on board.
The steamboat did not ascend the Rangoon River to the Irrawaddy, but
passed through a channel known as Bassein Creek, which shortened the
distance, and gave a better depth of water than the river. It was not
till the day after leaving Rangoon that they entered the great river of
Burmah, the Irrawaddy, which is about 1500 miles long, and is said to be
the fourth in the world in the volume of water brought down by its
current. In the latter part of its course it is nearly four miles wide,
and at Bhamo, 1000 miles from the sea, it is not less than a mile from
one bank to the other. It rises in the Himalaya Mountains, east of
Thibet, and has a course that is generally southerly, though in one
place it makes a large bend like the letter S, and in another it turns
sharply from the south to the west. It is navigable for more than 1000
miles for boats drawing not over three feet of water, and it is open for
the entire year.
The river is subject to great floods, and in the months of May and June
the water is frequently forty feet above the lowest stage. In the dry
season the channel is crooked and the current very rapid, but when the
river is up the pilots pay little attention to the channel, but steer
straight on, pretty much as they like.
[Illustration: NATIVE BOAT ON THE IRRAWADDY.]
The boys were much interested in the novel sights of the great river;
they endeavored to keep an account of the number of native boats, but
finally gave up the effort, as the craft were too numerous to be
counted, and allow time for seeing anything else. The boats were of all
sizes and kinds; they were generally built of teak, the best timber in
the world for ships, and they rose high out of water at both bow and
stern. They were generally roofed over in the centre and at the stern,
and sometimes there were two or three roofs of different heights. The
steersman was elevated under a canopy over the stern, and at a little
distance he resembled an idol in a shrine.
Many of the boats had tall masts for carrying a single square sail,
such as the Chinese use, and of course they were not able to sail much
into the wind. The captain told the boys that he had seen boats on the
river with yards more than 100 feet long, and that 120 pulleys were
needed to handle the sails properly. The larger boats had upper and
studding sails, but all the rest had only the square sail.
[Illustration: MALAY "SAMPAN" OR RIVER-BOAT.]
Several times the "wash" or "back water" from the steamboat overturned
the little row-boats that ventured too near. These boats were hewn from
a single log, like the "dugouts" of the United States, and were very
easy to upset when not skilfully managed. The occupants did not seem to
care much for being spilled out, as they immediately turned their boats
right side up, baled them out with their hands, and then sprung in and
laughed, as though it was a good joke. When the boys called attention to
the first of these overturns, the captain of the steamboat told them of
a wholesale upsetting he witnessed at the time of the second Burmese
war.
"It was in front of Rangoon," said he, "and before we had actually begun
to fight. The Governor of Rangoon was sending hostile messages, and we
were sending equally hostile ones back, but not a shot had been fired.
"One morning the governor thought he would astonish us with a show of
his force, and sent out a flotilla of thirty war-boats: they had all the
way from twenty to fifty rowers in each boat, and it was really a
beautiful sight. On they came with flags flying, gongs beating, trumpets
sounding, and swords and muskets flashing in the sun: they dashed
through the water at a rapid rate, and if the governor was looking on
from the shore, he must have been pleased at the display.
"Just as they were making their finest appearance, an English steamer
with despatches from Calcutta came up the river at full speed against
the strong current. The Burmese were not accustomed to this sort of
thing, and evidently knew nothing about the heavy swell that a big
paddle-steamer makes. It caught the flotilla broadside on, between the
ship and shore, and capsized every boat in it; the men saved themselves
by swimming, but the whole lot of flags, gongs, muskets, swords, and
other paraphernalia of Burmese war went to the bottom of the river. We
laughed heartily at the ludicrous incident, which should have taught the
Burmese that their war-boats are no match for an English steamer, even
before she fires a gun."
[Illustration: NATIVE HOUSE NEAR THE RIVER.]
The scenery of the river was not much unlike that of the Yang-tse in
China, except that it was more tropical, and the foliage and verdure
generally were more luxuriant. Wherever there was a forest the trees
were large, and overspread with climbing plants and orchids; then for
long distances the banks were covered with tall grass that would conceal
an elephant walking through it, and for this reason it was called
"elephant grass" by the officers of the steamboat. Villages of bamboo
were reasonably abundant, some of them large and compactly built, while
others were small and straggling. There were plantations of bananas and
other tropical fruits, and sometimes they were so large and luxurious as
to make a ready explanation of the very low price of these products of
the soil in Burmah. If a man does not become weary of the monotony, he
can get along very cheaply in this country by living on bananas alone.
The steamer made short stoppages at several villages, and finally rested
for an hour or more at a place called Myanaong. This gave Doctor Bronson
and the boys an opportunity to go on shore to see what the town
contained.
[Illustration: A BURMESE TEMPLE.]
There were crowds of natives in gaudy costumes, and nobody seemed to be
actively employed. One man who spoke a little English offered to conduct
the party around the place, and his offer was readily accepted. He led
the way to a temple or pagoda with a curious arrangement of terraces and
peaked roofs that can only be described by a picture. There was a good
deal of gilding and yellow paint in the ornamentation of the building,
and on the corners of the terraces there were staffs or poles with bells
that jingled in the wind. As before stated, the large bells in Burmah
have no tongues, and are rung by sticks of timber swung against them,
but the small ones that hang on the roofs of the temples are better off.
When the breeze is blowing they keep up a perpetual tinkle by no means
unpleasant.
The entrance was up a marble staircase at one corner of the lowest
terrace, and there was a similar stair at the opposite corner. Each of
the entrances was guarded by fierce griffins, like those already
described at Rangoon, and the carving was by no means of an ordinary
character. The wood-carving on the ornamental parts of the building was
generally well done, and the boys spent some time in examining the
various designs. They climbed to the top of the edifice and looked
down on the roofs of the lower buildings that surrounded it; some of
these were the residences of the priests that had charge of the temple,
and others were intended as lodging-houses for strangers who came there
to worship, and intended to spend several days in the place. The priests
were in yellow robes, like those of Bangkok, and their general
appearance was much the same. The architecture of the temples, and
certain parts of the worship of the Burmese, have no resemblance to the
Siamese forms, but the principles of the religions are identical. Buddha
is the divinity in the one country as in the other.
The steam-whistle called our friends back to the boat, and in a little
while they were heading up the river once more. As they turned a bend
above Myanaong, the captain pointed to a plain that stretched away for
several miles along the bank of the river, and was backed by a dense
forest.
"On that plain," said the captain, "I saw a fine example of the
superiority of the European mode of warfare over that of these sleepy
Orientals. I have already told you how we overset a fleet of their
war-boats without endeavoring to do so, and now I'll tell how we
dispersed an army of several thousand men in about five minutes:[5]
[5] For these two incidents the writer is indebted to the author of "Up
and Down the Irrawaddy."
"The steamer that I was on during the second Burmese war was ordered to
come up the river to prevent any re-enforcements going to the Burmese in
Rangoon before we assaulted the place. Just before reaching this point
we heard the sound of gongs and trumpets; it grew louder and louder, and
we slowed our engines and crept gently along. Soon we discovered a great
flashing and sparkling all over the plain, and from the mast-head we
made out that an army was marching to the relief of Rangoon.
"Three 'woons,' or governors of as many districts, were leading the
army, and it was a gorgeous array of elephants, horses, wagons, gongs,
flags, trumpets, brass trappings, and all 'the pomp and circumstance of
glorious war.' The three woons were on as many elephants in the front
rank, seated on gilded howdahs, and shaded by gold umbrellas. Their
servants knelt behind them with fans and betel-boxes, and the driver on
each elephant's neck was flourishing his wand as though proud of the
honor of directing the stately beast who carried a woon. Then came five
elephants drawn out in a line, and laden with servants and baggage, and
then twelve elephants bearing the sons and nephews of the woons,
together with the staff-officers. Next came the horsemen, three or four
hundred strong, and behind them the beaters of gongs and cymbals, with
the blowers of trumpets; then followed the infantry, and then the wagons
and the camp-followers, making a long, irregular column that stretched
far away to the forest.
"It was a grand spectacle, and it seemed a pity to interfere with it,
but in war we cannot give way to sentiment. They did not see the
steamer, and were evidently not aware of her presence; the first
intimation of it was given by our gunners, who dropped a couple of
shells right in the midst of the elephants, and followed them with two
or three more. Then the steam-whistle was blown, and a rocket was sent
flying over the heads of the woons.
"The whole scene was changed in an instant. Half a dozen elephants
stumbled and fell, and the air was full of golden umbrellas, white
cloths, yellow arms and legs, and gilded howdahs that fell with a crash.
The rest of the elephants turned and dashed through the multitude,
dropping their burdens as they ran, or brushing them off against the
trees when they reached the edge of the forest; the horses took fright
and scattered in all directions, some with riders and others with empty
saddles; the ox-wagons were overturned, and as for the people on foot,
they emulated the horses in the matter of rapid travelling. All that
grand army was scattered in less time than I have taken to tell about
it."
"That was what you call 'a stampede,' was it not?" said one of the boys.
"Exactly so," was the reply. "The army was stampeded by the shells that
came so unexpectedly and frightened the animals, and when they began to
run the men on foot naturally followed their example. The elephant is a
timid beast in many things, and so is the horse, and when they take
fright nothing can stop them. The elephant was employed in war before
the invention of gunpowder, but since that explosive came into general
use he has ceased to be of any value on the battlefield. The Burmese are
not cowards, but their animals are, and probably the lesson of that and
other occasions has taught them to leave the elephant behind when going
to battle. The lesson was quite as pointed as the one of overturning
their war-boats by the swell of a steamer, and you can be sure it has
not been forgotten."
The scenery began to change as they passed the locality of this
one-sided battle; the flat banks disappeared in many places, and low
hills came into view, and by-and-by the low hills changed to higher
ones. Most of the hills were wooded, and the low ground, wherever it
occurred, was covered with rice or banana fields, or perhaps with
custard-apple and mango trees. Occasionally they passed heaps of
firewood that had been piled on the banks for the use of the steamers,
exactly as it is piled on the banks of the Mississippi, and whenever
they stopped to take in fuel the process of "wooding up" reminded the
Doctor very forcibly of the same operation on the great river of North
America.
[Illustration: A COMPOSITE CREW.]
Among the odd craft they met was one that had a monkey and a parrot as
part of the crew; the parrot was seated on the top of the mast, while
the monkey amused himself by climbing over the sail and displaying a
good deal of general activity. Evidently he desired to drive the parrot
from her perch, but had a wholesome respect for her sharp and powerful
beak.
[Illustration; AN EASTERN WATER-FALL.]
Where the hills came down to the edge of the river there was now and
then a water-fall glistening among the foliage, and dashing its white
spray over the rocks. The most of these cascades were small, and the
boys observed that all the larger tributaries of the Irrawaddy joined
the great stream through level plains.
At one of their halting-places a native boat lay close to them, and the
odor that rose from it was not altogether agreeable to the nostrils of
the strangers. Frank inquired the cause of the disagreeable smell, and
was told that the crew was probably at dinner, and regaling itself on
_nagapee_.
Naturally he wished to know what nagapee was.
"It is a condiment that they mix with rice to render it more palatable,"
the Doctor answered, "and is a great favorite with the Burmese. It is
made by mixing finely-chopped fish with certain spices, and other
flavoring things, till it is in the form of a paste. The fish is first
allowed to get a little old, or 'gamy,' and before they chop it up the
smell from it is anything but agreeably to a European. The flavor
increases with age, and the older it gets the more do the Burmese like
it."
Frank and Fred concluded they would take their rice without nagapee for
the future. The perfume that rose from the boat was all they wanted.
[Illustration: MONASTERY AT PROME.]
They stopped several hours at Prome, a large town that was said to
contain some handsome pagodas and a Buddhist monastery, and was famous
for its silk manufactories. One of the first persons our friends met on
shore was a man whose accent was so decidedly American that Doctor
Bronson at once asked from what part of the United States he had come.
He proved to be a native of Massachusetts, and was settled in Burmah as
a missionary: he invited the strangers to visit his house, but, as their
time was limited, they were unable to do so.
This incident naturally led to a conversation concerning the American
missions in Burmah, as soon as our friends were again on board the
steamer, and moving up the Irrawaddy.
"Since the early part of this century," said the Doctor, "the American
Board of Foreign Missions has been represented in Burmah; their stations
are scattered throughout the country, and the labors of the missionaries
have been attended with a great deal of hardship. Of late years they
have fared better than they did when they first came here, as the
authorities are less suspicious of them than formerly, and the comforts
of life are more easily obtained. In the early days, and especially in
the time of the first Burmese war, they were frequently arrested and
thrown into prison: one of them, whose name is well known in the United
States, was kept in chains for more than a year, and for a large part of
that time he was under sentence of death."
One of the boys asked who this missionary was.
"He was Doctor Judson--Adoniram Judson," was the answer; "he came to
Burmah in 1812, and died in 1850. He was two or three times in America
between those years, and he died on a voyage from Rangoon to the Isle of
France, where he was going on account of his health. He did a great deal
for the advancement of the Burmese; he learned the language, and
prepared a Burmese-English dictionary, together with a good many
translations. The dictionary he made is the one now in use, though it
has been considerably increased by other scholars.
"His imprisonment and sentence to death was owing to the suspicion that
he was in secret correspondence with the English, who were then at war
with Burmah. He and his wife were living at Ava, which was then the
capital. At the time the war began, when the news came of the fall of
Rangoon, the king was very angry, and ordered the arrest of three
Englishmen residing there, and also of Mr. Judson. The prisoners were
bound with cords, and then led away; on reaching the prison they were
loaded with chains, and all four were fastened to a bamboo pole, so that
if any one moved in the least degree he was sure to rouse his
companions.
[Illustration: MRS. JUDSON VISITING HER HUSBAND IN PRISON.]
"Mrs. Judson was arrested at the same time, and ordered to remain a
prisoner in her own house. Here she was kept for several days, and she
obtained her release by making a present to the governor of the city;
then she set about obtaining the liberty of her husband and the other
prisoners; but all that she could accomplish was to secure a
modification of the severity of their treatment. As often as she was
allowed she went to the prison, but she was generally stopped at the
door, and could only talk with her husband with an armed guard standing
between them. During the time of his captivity she wore the Burmese
dress, so as to attract as little attention as possible when going about
the streets.
"This imprisonment lasted nearly seven months, and then suddenly one day
the prisoners were removed to a village several miles back from the
river, and consigned to the 'death-prison.' They expected to be burnt to
death, but for some reason the king hesitated to give the order,
probably through fear that the British might make severe retaliation.
Here they were kept six months, till the English succeeded in bringing
the war to a close, and humiliating the king. All the prisoners were
released; but the most of them died not long after, in consequence of
their sufferings. Mrs. Judson had remained as close as possible to her
husband during his captivity, and only lived about a year after his
release. She died at Moulmein, during his absence at the capital to
assist the British Commissioners in arranging a treaty with the king."
[Illustration: MRS. JUDSON TEACHING A CLASS OF NATIVE CONVERTS.]