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BURMA
By the Same Author
EGYPT
CONTAINING 75 FULL -PAGE REPRODUCTIONS IN COLOUR
OF MR. Kelly's pictures
AG£NTS IN AMERICA
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 64 & 66 Fifth Avenue, New York
> Ji
SHRfNE ON THE PLATFORM OF THE SHWE DAGON PAGODA
BURMA
PAINTED & DESCRIBED
BY
R. TALBOT KELLY
R.B.A., r.R.G.S., COMMANDER OF THE MEDJIDIEH
LONDON ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK
1905
College library
TO
MY FATHER AND MOTHER
HI r G'^ r* fro
Preface
Although it has been said that perhaps the best way of acquiring information upon a subject is to write a book about it, it was with extreme diffidence that I ventured to undertake the production of a volume upon Burma. I had never been in the country, and possessed only the most superficial knowledge of its history or geography, and I foresaw that the task would prove an exacting one ; but, had I realised at the outset how vast the country really is, how many difficulties of various kinds would confront me, and the utter hope- lessness of ever accomplishing a tithe of the obliga- tions which such a country as Burma would inevitably impose upon its delineator, I should hardly have dared to assume the responsibility.
Now, however, that it is finished, I offer no apology for my work. It has been my aim throughout to approach my subject with an open mind, to find out the country for myself and to depict it as it appears to the eye of a stranger. This volume, therefore, is essentially
Burma
a book of " first impressions," for no one could hope to dig deeply into such a mine of wealth as Burma is, in the short seven months during which it was my privilege to wander in the country.
The difficulties, moreover, under which I worked were great : fatiguing journeys through forest and jungle, climatic conditions most unkind to the painter, difficulties of language and of health, and, supremest difficulty of all, that of rightly appraising a strange country and a strange people.
Such incidents and scenes as I describe, therefore, are simply the more or less crude impressions I from time to time received, influenced, doubtless, more or less by the varying conditions under which I viewed them.
It would, however, have been quite impossible for me to have accomplished one half of this present volume but for the proverbial hospitality of the East ; and my thanks are gratefully tendered to my many friends in Burma who so kindly assisted me, not only in the matter of accommodation and transport, but in the acquisition of information.
To Sir H. Thirkell White and Mr. A. St. J. Leeds, my kind hosts in Rangoon ; to Mr. A. M. B. Irwin, whose bungalow in Mandalay was so many times my home, I owe a deep debt of gratitude ; and to the Bombay-Burma Trading Corporation, the Burma Rail- ways, the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company and the Arracan
viii
Preface
Company, under whose auspices I enjoyed many of my most interesting experiences, my thanks are warmly tendered.
Nor can I forget the many social Clubs whose hospitality I enjoyed, and the friends I made through- out the country, and to many of whom I trust that these pages may serve to recall associations which I, at all events, shall always remember with extreme pleasure.
Naturally, I have only been able to touch the fringe of the immensity of subjects contained in its 156,000 square miles of tropical beauty, though during my own journey of some 3500 miles in Burma I have endeavoured to record something at least of its most characteristic features.
Many interesting journeys I was obliged to forego : the trip up the Chindwin and Sittang rivers, from lack of time, while illness compelled me to reluctantly abandon a visit to the Ruby Mines, to which Mr. Atley, their manager, had very cordially invited me. I am not without the hope, however, that this book, imperfect as it is, may succeed in conveying some truth- ful impression of the beauty of the country, some little insight into the happy picruresqueness of its people, and may perhaps excite in some readers the desire to see and study the country for themselves.
IX
Contents
CHAPTER I Rangoon .......
CHAPTER II Amenities of Rangoon . . . .
PAGE I
19
CHAPTER III Across the Yomas to Taungdwingyi .... 39
CHAPTER IV Life in a Burmese Market Town , . . 53
CHAPTER V
Jungle Life at Kokogon ...... 69
CHAPTER VI
Through the Forest to Pyinmana ..... 88
xi
Burma
CHAPTER VII
PAG I
One Thousand Miles up the Irrawaddy : Part I.
(Rangoon to Prome) . . . . . .116
CHAPTER VIII
One Thousand Miles up the Irrawaddy : Part IJ.
(Prome to Bhamo) . . . . . . -133
CHAPTER IX
Two Capitals . . . . . . . . • ^ 5 5
CHAPTER X Some other Towns. . . . . . . .179
CHAPTER XI A Month on the Lashio Line . . . . .195
CHAPTER XII Camping in the Northern Shan States . . . 218
CHAPTER XIII The Burman ......... 242
Appendix . . . . . . .255
Index . . . . . . . .259
xii
List of Illustrations
1. Shrine on the Platform of the Shwe Dagon Pagoda
2. Ascent to the Shwe Dagon ,
3. The Pagoda Steps, Rangoon
4. Entrance to Bazaar at the Shwe Dagon
5. The Shwe Dagon from Dalhousie Park
6. The Shwe Dagon from the Bahan Tank
7. Ma-HIa-Byu (Miss Pretty and Fair)
8. The River at Prome — Morning Mists rising
9. The Irrawaddy Valley at Meegyoungyai
10. Scrub Jungle ....
11. A Village Shop ....
12. First Steps ....
13. Market-Place at Taungdwingyi
14. A Burmese Hamlet .
15. A Street in Taungdwingyi .
16. A Dak Bungalow
17. Dawn in the Forest .
18. On the Kyouk-mee-Choung
19. Elephants clearing a " Pone " of Logs at Kokogon
20. A Forest Glade ....
21. Loading Teak at Kokogon .
22. A Forest Tai ....
Frontispiece
FACING PAGE 10
12 16 24 28
32 40 42 48
54 56 58 62 66 70
74 76 78 84 92 96
Burma
|
23- |
FAC Jungle at Delanchoon |
•ING PAGE 100 |
|
24. |
The Village of Min-byin ...... |
104 |
|
25- |
Entrance to the Village of Kyet-thoung-doung |
108 |
|
26. |
In Forest Depths ....... |
112 |
|
27. |
On the Bassein Creek ...... |
118 |
|
28. |
Upstream with the Wind |
120 |
|
29. |
On the Lower Irrawaddy ...... |
124 |
|
30- |
Net Fishing on the Irrawaddy . . . . . |
128 |
|
31- |
Drifting ......... |
130 |
|
32- |
Waiting for the Steamer — Early Morning . |
136 |
|
33- |
The Landing-Place at Nyaung-u |
142 |
|
34- |
The River at Pakokku |
144 |
|
35. |
Express Steamer passing Sagaing .... |
146 |
|
36. |
Ava |
148 |
|
37- |
In the Second Defile of the Irrawaddy |
150 |
|
38. |
The Irrawaddy Banks near Myin-gyan |
152 |
|
39- |
A Chinese Pawn-Shop — Mandalay |
156 |
|
40. |
The Moat at Mandalay |
158 |
|
41. |
" The Centre of the Universe " — Mandalay |
160 |
|
42. |
A Portico of the Palace — Mandalay . |
162 |
|
43- |
The Kuthodau — Mandalay .... |
164 |
|
44. |
A Zeyat — Mandalay ...... |
166 |
|
45- |
" En Promenade "...... |
168 |
|
46. |
The Road to Mandalay ..... |
170 |
|
47- |
Old Pagan |
• 172 |
|
48. |
The Ananda Temple — Pagan .... |
. 174 |
|
49. |
Platform of the Shwe Zigon Pagoda — Pagan |
• 176 |
|
50. |
A Buddha — near Pagan |
. 178 |
|
51. |
In Nyaung-u |
180 |
|
52. |
Street in Nyaung-u ...... |
182 |
|
53. |
Landing-Ghaut at Prome — Low River |
184 |
|
54. |
At the Well |
186 |
List of Illustrations
55. Prayer on the Pagoda Platform — Prome
56. Evening at Thayetmyo
57. Bhamo from the Fort
58. In the Bazaar — Bhamo
59. The Goekteik Gorge
60. The Bottom of Goekteik Gorge
61. Jungle on the Lashio Line
62. The Home of the Peacock
63. Fall on the Myit-nge River
64. The Man-pwe Falls from the Railway Company'
Bungalow
65. Ferry on the Nan-tu River
66. Mining Camp at " The Rapids "
67. A Jungle Stream
68. On the Sterne River .
69. A Mountain Torrent .
70. Rafting down the Nan-tu River
71. Beauty and the Beast
72. " Pya-shikoh " (from a Burmese Painting)
73. "Domestic Felicity" (from a Burmese Painting)
74. Entrance to the Kuthodau — Mandalay
75. Portico of the (Queen's Golden Monastery — Mandalay
Sketch Map of Route at end of volume.
FACING PACK 188
190 192 194 198 202 204 208 210
214 220 226 230 232
238 244 246 248 250 252
The Illustrations in this 'volume ha've been engra'ved and printed by G. W. Jones, Ltd., 'with ivhich is incorporated The Menpes Press
BURMA
CHAPTER I
RANGOON
Our pleasant voyage was drawing to its close, and there was not one of the passengers of the Bibby liner by which I was travelling but experienced a feeling akin to home-sickness as the time approached for us to bid fare- well to the s.s. Yorkshire^ now within a few hours of arriving at Rangoon.
The final match at skittles had been played on the spacious fore-deck, followed by the last of many con- certs which, with dances, had from time to time been arranged in order to relieve the " monotony " of a voyage that had not known a tedious moment. Our run out had been uneventfully happy, for the weather had been perfect, and I know of no line running East which provides such ample accommodation for its passengers or more sedulously regards their comfort ; even the torrid heat of the Red Sea had hardly been felt, thanks to electric " punkahs " in saloon and state-rooms.
The last few days of our journey, across the Indian Ocean, accorded well with the spirit of content which pervaded the ship, as, the temperature pleasantly modified
Burma
by monsoon showers, we would watch the shoals of bonito- driven flying -fish skim its oily undulations, and admire the stately frigate-birds which soared overhead or, regardless of the speedy leviathan which so closely passed them, rested peacefully upon the smooth surface of the ocean.
Yet it was a strange land we were approaching that October morning, and regrets gave place to anticipation as, awaiting our summons from the " bath-wallah," we lounged about the after -deck in the early dawn and looked for the first appearance of the land. Few of us except the Anglo -Burmans on board had any know- ledge of the country we were about to visit, and all looked forward to pleasurable surprises in store with an eagerness hardly tempered by the apprehension of snakes or malaria, which many smoke-room " yarns " told on the voyage might well have engendered.
It must be confessed, however, that my first view of Burma in the grey dawn was distinctly disappointing.
The low alluvial mud banks, scarcely raised above high-water mark, and covered with scrub jungle and " kaing " grass, were certainly not inviting, though those who knew could tell tales of tiger and other large game in these wastes, and of a picturesque life hidden away among the palm groves which dotted the plains.
Entering the river, the turbid waters of the Irra- waddy presented little of interest save a stray catamaran or unlovely Chinese " paddy " boat, and even the pic- turesquely named " Elephant Point " and *' Monkey Point " conveyed little to the new arrival.
2
Rangoon
Proceeding upstream, however, new growths aroused our interest — cocoa-nut and toddy palms, tamarinds and mangoes, among which the trimly thatched huts of the Burmans or an occasional pagoda furnished the necessary touch of local colour. Nevertheless the scene was tame, and to myself at least disappointing, until, after a couple of hours' steaming, there suddenly appeared, rosy in the sunshine, the golden dome of the great Shwe Dagon Pagoda, seemingly suspended above the purple haze which still hid Rangoon from sight.
From this moment everything appeared changed, and the freed imagination found possibilities everywhere. Numerous creeks enter the Rangoon river, leading to regions unexplored and mysterious ; from them emerge into the main stream the quaintly shaped boats of the Burmans — strange craft, whose graceful lines and richly carved sterns seem to reflect the minds of a people who love beauty and are content to be happy.
Increasing numbers of steam launches, " paddy " ^ boats, and sampans marked our nearer approach to Rangoon, and imaginings gave place to more practical thoughts as the steamer came to an anchor and we pre- pared to land.
The decks were soon crowded. Native porters, personal servants of returning " Sahibs," or Eurasian officials, took possession of the steamer and incidentally of anything visible that might perchance be legally claimed as a possible possession of their employers. I must, however, express some surprise at the action of the
* Unhusked rice.
3
Burma
Customs. Everything in the shape of firearms was at once seized and placed in bond, and in view of the still occasional cases of dacoity such precautions (especially in the case of the .303 rifle) are intelligible and justified ; but why should such palpably innocent impedimenta as " kodaks " or field-glasses come under the same em- bargo ? True, all such belongings were quickly and politely returned at the custom-house in exchange for a simple form of declaration ; but it struck me as a some- what unnecessary and irritating formality, especially to a new arrival all uncertain of his bearings or how to go about things. Otherwise the Customs are easy, and in all cases their officials were polite, even assiduous, in their well-meant attentions.
Half-an-hour after landing found me very com- fortably installed in the Strand Hotel, a roomy bed- room with bathroom attached having been allotted to me, while its large enclosed verandah, which practically formed a sitting-room, gave me ample breathing space ; and, making allowance for the latitude, the table-d'hote was excellent and varied. I was a little disconcerted, however, the first night on retiring, to find that my bed was furnished with mattrass, pillow, and mosquito- net only, no sheet or covering of any kind being provided. I imagined this to be an oversight; but the omission soon explained itself when I found that the thermometer never dropped below ninety -eight degrees all night, and In the damp heat that prevailed it would have been impossible to have endured the weight of even a silk coverlet.
4
Rangoon
The morning after my arrival I was able to engage a native (Indian) servant, by name Chinnasammy, an excellent " boy " of forty or so, who had served through the Burma war of '87 as officer's and mess servant, and who was afterwards to prove of the greatest service to me, as he spoke English and a little Burmese, while I was entirely ignorant of the latter language ; and, quite apart from his services as " bearer," it would have been almost impossible for me, or any one ignorant of Burmese, to have travelled through the country in comfort without the assistance of an interpreter. Even in Rangoon itself, Europeanised though it is, English alone is a broken reed upon which to rely where half the languages of the Asiatic world are spoken, and hardly one of the Eastern races represented has any knowledge of a Western tongue.
Rangoon is interesting — palpably a prosperous and in some ways a handsome city, and is a perfect kaleido- scope of human life.
Built upon the east bank of the river, 30 miles from the sea, it covers an area of 15 square miles, its frontage to the river consisting of excellent quays and " godowns " ^ behind which lies the commercial town. The river runs by in deeply swirling eddies, dangerous to life should you accidentally find yourself in the water.
Moored to the wharves, or anchored in midstream, are a surprisingly large number of ocean steamers ; prominent among them are the magnificent steamers of the Bibby line, half-a-dozen or more of the British India
^ Warehouses.
5
Burma
Company's flotilla, and Patrick Henderson andCo.'s latest addition to their fleet. Other ships, steam tugs and lighters, and a multitude of sampans and small sailing craft add to the general eff^ect of bustling commerce, the two principal items of which are impressed upon you by the large quantities of rice husks floating on the water, and the huge teak rafts of the Bombay-Burma Trading Corporation, Steel Brothers, and other merchants, drifting to their destinations at Elephant Point and elsewhere.
On landing, the first impression received is the Indian character of the place, for among all its varied nationalities the Indian native seems to predominate. The dock coolies, in simple loin-cloth and turban, are mostly Madrassees or Chittagonians, the " gharry " ^ and *' tikka gharry " ^ wallahs half-bred Indians, while in the streets, ablaze with coloured costume, the dominant types are Hindus, Tamils, Madrassees, Cingalese, and Chinese. The Burman seems crowded out here, and has evidently been supplanted by his more energetic and active-minded rivals. Even the police in the streets are drawn from that fine body of men the Sikhs, while all the " chuprassies " or Government messengers are natives of India. The Chinese are largely in evidence. Most of the river carrying trade is in their hands ; quite the best shops and houses in the native quarters are theirs ; and their general good-humour and smile of quiet content testify to the prosperity they undoubtedly, and I think deservedly, enjoy. There is, of course, a large Burmese population in Rangoon, but they are
^ Cart. 2 Hired vehicle.
6
Rangoon
mainly to be found in their own quarters, and on the bustling quay-side and business streets are less noticeable than their alien neighbours.
The men (other than Burmans) are on the whole good-looking, and, while the women of Ceylon and India are usually handsome, few of the Burmese women I saw in Rangoon can claim good looks, though quaint costume, beautifully dressed and glossy hair, and general vivacity of manner render them attractive.
Like its population, the town itself is cosmopolitan in style. Many of the more important buildings are fairly imposing, some even good, in architecture, but as a rule they are the square-built stucco houses common to the Levant, and I suppose the East generally, much the worse for wear (no doubt due to monsoon rains), and with the inevitable green "jalousies," usually rather *' wobbly " and badly in need of a coat of paint.
In plan, Rangoon is well laid out. Main streets run parallel with the river front, intersected at right angles by others. These streets are wide and well metalled. Most of them are bordered by trees, an excellent provision in a country whose shade temperature even in the cool season runs up to ninety degrees.
In the centre of the town is Fytche Square, a pretty garden of considerable extent, around which are many banks, merchants' offices, and the principal shops, the whole being dominated by the beautiful cupola of the Sulay Pagoda.
Among the more important buildings in Rangoon is the new municipal market, an ornate structure of
7
Burma
considerable size, and to which the natives have taken kindly, though the bazaars still flourish, and to the artist at any rate offer greater attraction. Many odd nooks and corners of extreme interest are to be found : the Burman and Hindu temples of Pazundoung, the Chinese joss-house at the north end, the shops of the silversmiths and umbrella-makers, as well as the fruit bazaars in the front, while the Chinese and Japanese streets have each their special interest. All this is very fascinating, but is hardly Burmese. In fact, in the streets and bazaars of Rangoon the Burman might almost be regarded as the stranger, and only in the Shwe Dagon Pagoda and a few quarters peculiar to themselves do you find the Burman pure and simple, or at any rate have opportunity for studying him free from the overcrowding, noise, and activity of the other races.
The new-comer is almost immediately struck by the difference between the beasts driven by Burmans and those of other nationalities and religions. The Burmese cattle are always sleek, comfortable, and well fed ; while those of the Mohammedan races are, as a rule, overworked and often cruelly abused. Here, perhaps, is a clue to the reason of the Burman being so completely overshadowed in his own place. Innately gentle, the same instinct and religious obligation which lead him to treat his animals with consideration hardly fit him to compete with the aggressive and noisy cupidity of others, whose one aim would seem to be to extract as much as possible from either man or beast.
Behind the commercial town lie cantonments, the
8
Rangoon
residential districts, the drive out being a very inter- esting one. All the roads are shaded by avenues of padouk, tamarind, banyan, and palms ; while the gardens, often bordered by hedges of feathery bamboo, are well stocked with tropical growths, among which are many handsome trees and shrubs imported from other countries. Through the hedges may be seen glimpses of flowers and pretty lawns, and the well-built timber bungalows are roomy and often handsome in design. Everywhere are evidences of wealth among the residents, and, by the way, of good government on the part of the municipality, the roads being wide, well kept, and watered, while the public gardens are tastefully laid out and maintained.
Practically all the residents have their own vehicles, but for the visitor the only means of getting about is by **tikka gharry," a four-wheeled cab which in very small space combines the maximum of ugliness and dis- comfort and is drawn by the smallest ponies I have ever seen in shafts, though they are fast and willing as a rule. The driver, usually a half-naked coolie, is perched on a little dickey on the roof, understands no English, and knows as little about driving as he does of any possible destination to which you may wish to be taken. These drivers are supposed to pass an examination before receiving their licence, but as a matter of fact few of them know even the main thoroughfares by name, and the only way for the stranger to go to work is to direct your *' gharry-wallah " to some well-known place such as the Strand Hotel, Cook's, or Pegu Club, and call
9 2
Burma
" Hi ! " as you pass the point nearest your objective. As this, however, implies some little knowledge of the localities, it does not meet the case of the absolute new arrivals, who, if they are ignorant of Hindustani, should at once engage a native servant who speaks English, which is the only way in which much irritation and loss of time may be avoided. I would like to suggest to the proprietors of all Eastern hotels how greatly they would add to their own prestige as well as the pleasure of their guests if they would keep in their employment a few good outdoor servants to act in the capacity of guides, as well as one or two victorias which visitors might hire in place of the indescribably uncomfortable *' tikka gharry."
The hospitality of Rangoon is proverbial, — my own experience compels me to term it unbounded, — and a few days after my arrival I found myself surrounded by a circle of friends, a member of its leading clubs, and, with my servant, luxuriously installed in the bungalow of a high Government official in the Prome Road, and with all the advantages and opportunities for working which the solicitude of my host was able to afford me, I had been quite comfortable at the hotel, and have often fared worse in more pretentious establishments nearer home ; there is, however, this disadvantage in living in " town," that your environment is entirely the business element, which is so largely composed of alien races that " Burma " is eliminated from your view. Living in cantonments, however, with its purer air and more reposeful conditions, was very pleasant and the
10
ASCENT TO THE SHWE DAGON
Rangoon
day's work relatively easy, while the Burman proved more easily discoverable than in the commercial centre, and at the same time under conditions which better suited his temperament. All the roads in the suburbs are well wooded and pleasant for promenading, and in Cantonment Gardens, as well as Dalhousie Park, the Burmese lady, gay in coloured silks, is fond of walking with her no less daintily clad children. In the neigh- bourhood are many Burmese villages with their quaintly carved " kyoungs " ^ and " zeyats " ^ ; but above all you are in close proximity to that wonderful building, the central and most sacred shrine of Buddhism, not only in Rangoon but throughout the country, the great Shwe Dagon Pagoda.
Here at last you find the Burman in his purity, and amid surroundings which are entirely complimentary, and much of my time in Rangoon was spent upon its platform, charmed but bewildered.
I find it increasingly difficult to give any adequate idea of this marvellous building, which Edwin Arnold fitly describes as a " pyramid of fire." It is simply wonderful, and impossible of description. As, how- ever, this, the greatest of all Burmese pagodas, is but a glorified example of the rest, I must make the almost impossible attempt to describe it.
First let me say that there are two principal forms of temple in Burma — the "thein" or square-built temple, which is often surmounted by cupolas and
' Pronounced "choung" = a monaster)'.
2 A rest-house for pilgrims and travellers.
II
Burma
pinnacles, as we will presently see among the ruins of Pagan ; and the " zedi " form, as here.
Viewed from a little distance, the Shwe Dagon is a graceful bell-shaped form rising above the trees which clothe the mound on which it is built, the apex being surmounted by a " ti " or umbrella, a graceful finial of wrought-iron overlaid with gold and studded with precious stones. From it depend little bells and cymbals which tinkle prettily as they swing in the breeze. The whole of this dome is gilt, a large portion being covered with plates of solid gold, and it may be imagined how glorious is the whole effect as it blazes under an Indian sun. A rather effective introduction of a single band of silver in one of its upper courses only adds to the richness of its appearance.
Four ascents, one from each cardinal point, lead to the platform from which the pagoda proper rises. Of these, that from the south is the most important. Formerly this entrance was perhaps the most striking architectural feature in the country. A broad flight of steps leads to a platform or terrace bounded by an ornamental wall ; passing between two enormous leogryphs, a further flight of steps and shorter terrace lead to a doorway of Gothic form, richly embellished by figures of " Nats " ^ and " Beloos "^ in high relief, the arch being surmounted by a characteristic " pyathat." Beyond rise in'succession the carved roofs of various bazaars which mark the different levels of the hill, the whole perspective culminating in the glowing mass of the Shwe Dagon itself.
1 Gnomes. ^ Devils,
12
THE PAGODA STEPS, RANGOON
T
Rangoon
Quite recently (it was only finished in 1903) this terrace has, at enormous cost, been covered in by a "tazaung,"^ which, though handsome enough in itself, is in my opinion an unforgivable act of vandalism, as it en- tirely obliterates a view of an interesting and picturesque procession of historic structures which was quite unique.
The interior of this covered ascent is full of interest both architectural and human. On either side are stalls for the sale of anything, from candles and artificial flowers for presentation at the shrines to jewellery and toys. In fact it is probably the best bazaar for " odds and ends " in Rangoon ; and as the steps are steep, and crowded with gaily clothed passengers moving up and down through odd effects of light and shade, the whole forms, I think, one of the best pictures I saw in Burma.
Ascending the steps, you finally emerge from the half-light on to the sun-bathed platform (a huge circular space of many acres) which surrounds the base of the golden pile which towers 370 feet into the air.
Here again modern addition has somewhat marred the general effect of the building, the indiscriminate building of additional shrines upon this platform having almost hidden the plinth of the pagoda, so that the general sense of its proportion has been lost. Each or these shrines, however, is in itself so interesting, and so lavish in its decoration, that one is reconciled to their intrusion by a study of their own intrinsic merit.
Whether it be in their general design, elaborate carving, or glass mosaic, the number and size of the
* Pavilion. 13
Burma
Buddhas in bronze or alabaster they enclose, their enor- mous bells and ornamental " tis," every bit of these structures and their adjuncts is absolutely interesting and beyond my powers of description. The whole effect is one of golden splendour amidst which a throng, clad in all the most delicate tints of silk, move like scattered petals from a bouquet of roses.
Before the shrines are groups of devotees kneeling, or in the position of "shikoh," some with rosaries, others with flowers between their palms; they pray fervently, while lighted candles gleam before the niche from which a gilded Buddha smiles.
They appear very devout, and the hum of many voices joined in earnest supplication is impressive. Yet I am informed that the Buddhist prays " to nobody and for nothing " ! This may be so, and the Buddhist faith is one which few have been able to fathom ; but the sight of these evidently sincere worshippers would seem to contradict this negative assertion, and at any rate presents a striking instance of that dependence the human heart must always instinctively feel when contemplating the omniscient and the unknown.
These shrines are not for Burmans only, however. Buddhists of all races are represented, and all are dressed in gala costume. On festivals the Indian Buddhists particularly are richly clad : in one group which I noticed, the women, who were closely veiled, in addition to their other ornaments wore shields of silver on their toes. Each race or tribe appears to affect a particular shrine, which no doubt accounts for the
Rangoon
erection of so large a number, but I was glad to learn that any further building on the pagoda platform has now been prohibited.
On the outer circle of this platform are many other buildings — offices for the custodian and his assistants, a library and Chinese temple, sundry shrines and " zeyats " for pilgrims, between which are stalls and booths for the sale of food-stuffs and votive offerings. Away in a corner, shaded by a pepul tree, are the graves of our officers who fell at the storming of the pagoda ; and not far away, in a half-ruined and neglected shrine, is the most beautiful figure of Buddha I have seen, in which the face, admirably modelled, really combines in its smile something of human sympathy together with the eternal peace of heaven. On the platform are two particularly good Shan " tis " beautifully wrought in perforated iron, also two others of stone, and a really fine " tagundaing," or flag-staff, the pediment of which is in five stages, each embellished with carved representations of dragons, garuda birds, ghouls, ogres, and fairies, in the order given. Among the many curios safeguarded by the custodian is a silver model of the Sulay Pagoda in which is enclosed a tooth of Gaudama, a relic supposed to be genuine, while facing the principal shrine two life-sized figures of teak, a man and a woman, in all the bravery of gaudy paint and tinsel, are dancing to the accompaniment of two gramophones which bellow forth in a noisy rivalry the latest comic songs from the London music halls ! It is all very incongruous but deeply interesting: everywhere is
15
Burma
some object to claim attention or admiration, to excite sympathy or amusement, but what at first puzzled me most was the great number of bells in every corner of the temple. Some of these bells are of enormous size, canopied by a handsome " pyathat"^ ; others of less size are in the open, suspended by handsomely wrought slings and bosses of bronze between their coloured posts. Beside each bell is a deer's antler with which to strike it, and I was informed that it is the custom for Buddhists, after praying, to strike first the earth and then the bell in order to draw the attention of the " Nats " of the nether and upper worlds to their act of piety 1 In all Burmese pagodas bells figure largely, and 1 think, without exception, each temple is also adorned by huge leogryphs as guardians of the entrance. The legend is that in the misty past a king's daughter was stolen by a forest **Nat" and hidden in the woody fastnesses. All attempts at recovery failed, until one day a lioness rescued the princess and restored her to her father. Since then the lion, conventionalised in course of time into the leogryph, has been perpetuated as the symbol of protection and guardianship.
Ever fond of a joke, the Burman likes to point out in the case of the Shwe Dagon Pagoda that one of these guardian effigies has a sharp tongue, while that of the other is blunt ; one, they say, is a female, the other a male, but as to which is which the visitor is left to decide !
It is impossible in a short space to fully appreciate
1 A canopy of five or seven roofs in diminishing scale terminating in an elongated finial.
i6
ENTRANCE TO BAZAAR AT THE SHWE DAGON
r^
f^n-'^
Rangoon
all the interest of this most wonderful temple, which, in spite of certain incongruities, must impress even the most casual visitor with a feeling of admiration and respect for a religion which so beautifully expresses its devotion, and here alone in all Rangoon one gets a glimpse at the heart of Burma itself, and already begins to feel a sympathy with the people.
As a Burmese crowd may be as well studied at the Shwe Dagon as elsewhere, we might examine them a little more closely before leaving the pagoda.
All are gaily clothed. The men, who wear their hair long like a woman, are dressed in silk head-scarf or turban, a white jacket, and a kind of skirt, usually of coloured silk. These skirts are of two kinds : one a simple sack called " lungyi," twisted into a knot at the waist ; the other called " petsoe," a somewhat similar garment, but plus several yards of extra material which is either bunched up in front of the waist or serves as a head-and-neck shawl should it be cold. Most of the men in Rangoon wear boots, and carry cheap cotton parasols, which on the coast are supplanting the more picturesque native article.
In type the men are distinctly Mongolian and sallow in complexion, they wear a slight moustache and sometimes beard, and all (women included) smoke abnormally large cigars.
The women are infinitely more attractive than the men and less Mongoloid in appearance, the complexion being more ruddy, the cheek-bones not so high, and their features generally more regular. Their hair, which
17 3
Burma
is a purple black, is very luxuriant and always well dressed. It is usually worn in a tight coil on the top of the head, and in it is placed, in a very coquettish manner, a rose or orchid or some other flower. In the front of the coil is generally an ivory or white-wood comb.
Their costume is much the same as the men's, except that no head-dress is worn, — the same dainty white jacket and coloured " lungyi," or, in the case of those of superior position, a " temaine," a skirt of greater length so that it trails upon the ground, and which is open at the side, exposing the leg nearly to the hips in walking.
Round the neck, or thrown loosely over the shoulder, is a scarf of figured silk usually bright in colour, and on the feet sandals, or pattens, of wood.
Their gait is modest and whole appearance attractive, and as they wander about, shaded by their quaint semi- transparent umbrellas, chatting and laughing, flirting their fans prettily, or enjoying their cigars, they form the merriest and most fascinating crowd imaginable. Yet they are devout, praying often at the shrines, and are the business mainspring of the country. In fact, the women seem to monopolise the brain and energy of the race, and occupy an absolutely independent position. The men are inclined to laziness, but all — man, woman, or child — are good-humoured, happy, and polite.
i8
CHAPTER II
AMENITIES OF RANGOON
As I have already indicated, society in Rangoon is pleas- antly environed, and the evidences of prosperity every- where apparent are by no means at the expense of beauty. The well-built bungalows are generally pleasing in design, and in many cases are made really pretty by flowering creepers and well-selected shrubbery. The " compounds " are large. Behind the bungalow, and screened from sight, are the stables and kitchens, the latter being connected with the house by a covered passage, a necessary provision against the monsoon rains. Before and about the house is the garden proper, generally well supplied with shade trees, while many are ablaze with bedded-out plants and flowering shrubs. Some of these gardens indeed are charming, combining all the wealth of the flowers and foliage of the tropics with the familiar and homelike annuals of the mother country ; geranium and pansy emulate the more pronounced glories of the cactus or bougainvillea, while violets modestly add their offering of perfume to that of the magnolia or lily.
'9
Burma
The gardeners are always natives of India, and to give an instance of the loving care with which they perform their duties, I may instance the lawn which was the chief glory of my host's domain, and in which each root of grass had been separately planted by his " mahli."
All the roads in cantonments are well wooded, the heavy foliage of padouk and banyan contrasting with the more delicate habit of the gold mohur or the grace- ful palmyra and cocoa-nut palms. Some of the vistas afforded by these shady avenues are quite beautiful, and the life of the roads is interesting. Indian coolies hurry along with their curious ambling gait, bearing baskets of cocoa-nuts or dishes of sweetmeats slung from the bamboo which they carry across their shoulders ; and Indian women, with their delicate little faces and small hands and feet (much be-bangled) appearing from out the folds of their red " dhoties." Chinese labourers, in huge straw hats and loose-fitting garments, go to their work smiling and ever ready to make a joke of any mishap which may befall them. Quaint gharries drawn by patient and mild-eyed bullocks convey daintily clad Burmese ladies to some social function or pleasure party, while at almost every corner are smart native policemen who salute the " sahib " as he passes.
The types are interesting, and give the scene the necessary touch of orientalism, and, as usual, the costumes are bright in colour. Pink appeared to be the favourite tint, but many combinations are worn, such as a scarlet coat with purple sleeves, pink skirt
20
Amenities of Rangoon
with apple-green shawl, etc., while, aided by the power- ful sunshine, colours which the Western mind would at once condemn as impossible of combination are here successfully and harmoniously blended.
In the previous chapter I have made use of the term " shikoh," which is the Burmese form of salute. In its full elaboration a squatting position is assumed with the hands placed palm to palm as though praying ; the hands are always pointed towards the person saluted, and should he move his position the Burman will alter his own so as to continue facing him. Indoors, shoes are always removed at the threshold as a first mark of respect. If met in the street, the Burman will lower his umbrella, place whatever he may be carrying on the ground, and " shikoh " in proper form. A modified and now more general form of " shikoh " is simply to place the hands together and bow to the person compli- mented. Another mark of respect is to approach the person to be saluted and touch his knee with the hand.
One of the unfortunate effects of our occupation of Burma has been the gradual undermining of this ancient courtesy, and in Rangoon the '* shikoh " is almost a thing of the past ; and I was struck by the fact that, while all the other native races here are polite and respectfully " salaam " the European, the Burman alone declines to " shikoh " to any one, passing by with an air of unconscious indifference.
The young Burmans of to-day are beginning to wear socks and patent-leather shoes, and smoke American
21
Burma
cigarettes. Inheriting the conceit of their forefathers, but without their inherent gentility, they decline to salute any one unless compelled to do so. In Rangoon this question recently became acute when the pupils in the schools, taking advantage of their mixed birth, struck against " shikohing " to their teachers, and the Government, somewhat weakly I think, gave way upon the point and substituted the military form of salute for the more picturesque native custom.
Apropos of this decline of native politeness you will sometimes hear a Burman object to do certain work on the score that he is a '* trouser-wallah " (that is, that he wears European clothes) and is superior to any work. On the other hand, in country districts particu- larly, politeness on the part of the native is often carried to excess. Let me give an instance. A friend of mine was trying a new pony, which ran away with him, and in the narrow road overtook a cart in which were a family party out holiday-making. The pony ran into the back of the cart and threw his rider into the midst of the startled merry-makers, half-killing the Burman who was driving. Before my friend had time to offer any explanation of his unexpected onslaught, the Burman " shikohed " to him and said apologetically, *' My lord, my lord, the cart should not have been there " !
While the Burman will often pay so much respect to the white man it is rather curious to notice that saluta- tions between natives who may happen to meet in the
22
Amenities of Rangoon
road are rare, and even in the heart of the forest they will pass each other without so much as '* Good day."
Every one in Rangoon is up with the sun, and after a very light " chota-hazri " is out walking or riding in the cool of the morning. By 9 a.m. a cool verandah with a lounge chair under a " punkah " is a refuge to be desired. The peculiar potency of the sun is remarkable. I do not think I noticed any temperature over 101° in Rangoon, while more generally 95° was about the maximum at mid-day, yet even in the relatively cool mornings a silk suit and solar topee were imperative. In Egyptian deserts I have been happy in a cloth cap and riding-suit with the thermometer far above these figures, but in the lower latitudes of India the angle of the sun's rays seems to impart to its Hght^ as apart from its heat^ a curious power of penetration from which pro- tection is essential.
I was assured on arrival that it would be quite impossible for me to work out-of-doors during the heat of the day, even the animals taking their siesta, and for the first few days I sought sanctuary indoors between the hours of 1 1 and 4.
I was in despair as I saw how slowly work progressed, so taking my courage in both hands for the rest of my stay in Burma I worked consistently right through the day. Certainly this was very trying, and it required all one's determination to face the heat and glare, but I found it quite a possibility, and in and about Rangoon especially shade of some kind was usually obtainable.
The people were most polite. If I happened to be
23
Burma
working near a building, a chair and umbrella would invariably be offered, and the Sikh policemen especially seemed to like to assume control of the crowd which, with mild and respectful curiosity, gathered round me to see what I was doing.
After tea Rangoon betakes itself to tennis or Dalhousie Park, where, at a rendezvous not inaptly dubbed '* Scandalpoint," the Volunteer band plays well enough to render the promenade and gossip attractive. This park is pretty to a degree. The irregular banks which enclose the Victoria Lake are not only well wooded, but the selection of the trees and placing of the different groups have been carried out in such a way as to gain the maximum of value from contrast or sym- metry. Indeed, I have seldom seen such an entirely successful arrangement of different growths as here.
Across the lake is the Boat Club, and skiffs or sailing-boats vie with swans and water-lilies in giving interest to the placid water which reflects the ever- impressive cupola of the pagoda.
At sunset " tum-tums " ^ and carriages are called up, and perhaps after a quick drive round the " Switch- back " all seem by mutual consent to gravitate towards the Gymkhana Club. This is quite the best part of the day ; the air is deliciously cool and the coloration gorgeous. In the bamboo clumps crickets are shrilly alive, and the laggard swallows reluctantly surrender their chase to the bats. Fish, dormant during the heat of day, are now rising in search of food, streaking the limpid
1 Dog-carts. 24
4 Hiaioh
■■-.CJ .-iV/i
THE SHWE DAGON FROM DALHOUSIE PARK
Amenities of Rangoon
water with silver ripples, while the cold earthy smell which rises from the ground reminds you that fever is not unknown in Burma and suggests an overcoat.
Climbing Pagoda Hill, the road leads almost due west. The air is still dusty from the day's traffic, and, illuminated by the ruddy afterglow, it hangs in the avenues like a golden mist. Enveloped in this shimmering light is perhaps a group of Burmese women, their dainty heads encircled by the orange-coloured umbrellas they still carry, the delicate tints of their silk draperies merging into the golden mystery which surrounds them. It is all very lovely, and one regrets the shortness of the twilight which puts a period to such a transfiguration of the facts of day, and to which no more abrupt contrast could be imagined than your arrival at the Gymkhana Club.
Hardly perhaps a club in the strict sense, it is a very general and popular meeting-place in the early evening. The building is large and airy, well supplied with card and reading rooms, the ground-floor being almost entirely occupied by its fifteen or sixteen billiard-tables. In front is the cricket-field, where many hard fights take place, but at this hour the lawn is given up to the children and their ayahs, and dotted with the tea-tables of members and their wives. Behind are tennis-courts and stabling. The ladies have their own reading and billiard rooms, and once a week an impromptu dance takes place in the recently added ballroom.
Altogether it is a breezy, jolly club, most generous in admitting strangers and displaying in a marked
25 4
Burma
degree that hospitality and good-fellowship which in my experience is so general a characteristic of the Anglo- Burman. It was here that, a few days after my arrival, I witnessed a novel proof of the tropical character of Rangoon. The monsoon rains had hardly yet ceased, and the air was filled with a steamy warmth which, in spite of punkahs and wide-open verandah -screens, rendered coats and waistcoats intolerable. The billiard- tables were all occupied, the markers being mainly employed in sweeping off the thousands of insects which, attracted by the lights, settled on the tables. These were of all kinds : curious hard and horny creatures, big grasshoppers, gaudy moths, twig insects, and the lovely leaf mantis — in fact, the collection of entomological specimens on the tables was far more interesting than the game. Finally the swarms of insects became so great that it was difficult to force a ball the length of the table, and the games had to be abandoned and all lights extinguished for a time.
Running all over the walls were lizards, pretty cream- coloured things which darted about catching moths and white ants, and chirruping to each other the while like sparrows, and in the dark corners lurked others, larger and greyer, of sinister aspect and suspicious movements, which rendered them open to the imputation of cannibalism. In a friend's house also I made the acquaintance of the well- known " tuk-too," a little lizard of some six inches in length, who calls his name explosively, and loudly enough to be startling on the first occasion. The " tuk-too " is considered lucky in a house and is never
26
Amenities of Rangoon
disturbed, and the natives regard it as poisonous, though this is not probable. Once in my bath-towel I dis- covered a large tarantula spider, and on another occasion disturbed a cobra in the grass, but with these exceptions I met with nothing dangerous to health or life in Rangoon, and even the mosquitoes were hardly notice- able.
Still there are snakes in plenty in the gardens, and it is always wise to have a lantern if walking after dark. I heard of a case, which I believe to be authentic, of a lady who, on leaving the Pegu Club to walk to her house a very short distance away, trod upon a Russell's viper in the grass which fringed the road ; she was immediately struck in the ankle, and unfortunately died before she could reach her home. This, however, is an unusual case, and though general precautions are desirable I do not think the visitor to Rangoon need concern himself greatly about snakes.
Many pretty birds frequent cantonments : wrens and robins, doves and bulbuls, and the wearisome " copper- smith" bird, whose reiterated note, sounding like the stroke of a hammer upon copper, is often exasperating, especially in the heat of the day.
Like all Eastern towns Rangoon has its particular plague, in this case crows. Strongly in evidence during the day as they scavenge or thieve in the bazaars, it is in the evening that the visitor is struck with amaze- ment at their number and sagacity. Their rookeries are miles away in the jungle ; every morning they invade the town in their thousands, and at sunset return
27
Burma
to their forest habitat. The sight as they fly home- wards is remarkable, and for an hour at least the sky is black with the continuous flight of these birds, which have increased in number so much of late as to have become a serious nuisance in Rangoon, and their exter- mination, or at least limitation, is a problem which is seriously exercising the minds of residents.
A chapter might be written about the Rangoon crow, but let me give one instance of his sagacity. A gentle- man residing in cantonments made a bet with a friend that he would, from his compound, shoot one crow nightly for a month. The first evening he bagged his bird, and on the second another, but on the third and every successive evening each flight of crows as it neared his residence soared until out of range, and, when the danger zone was passed, descended again to their normal level. How the warning was passed from one rank to another is a mystery, but it is the fact that our friend never got another shot.
It is inevitable that in a prosperous centre such as Rangoon much that is pictorial must give way to the necessities of modern improvement. Recently a Burmese village near the cemetery has been entirely swept away and its site added to the new Victoria Memorial Park, and nobody could deny how greatly the community benefits by the change. In many of the main thorough- fares are quaint nooks wherein Burmese life still lingers in its primitive simplicity, but which are just as inevitably doomed.
There is one village, however, which lies close to the
28
THE SHWE DAGON FROM THE BAHAN TANK
Amenities of Rangoon
Shwe Dagon Pagoda on the road to Kokine which I trust will be permitted for many years to come to con- tinue its picturesque and, placid existence, and remain as an interesting link with a phase of life fast disappearing from Rangoon.
This is the village of Ngadatgyi-Hpya, more com- monly known as Wingaba or the Labyrinth. People pass it daily in their drives, and though probably all admire the richly carved kyaungs which, half buried in a profusion of vegetation, fringe the road, few care to explore the winding lanes and causeways which lie behind and from which the village derives its name. It is a place of considerable sanctity, occupied mainly by hpungyis and pilgrims who have come from all over the Buddhist world to worship at the great shrine under whose shadow it is built.
I only visited it once, but then under conditions that have impressed the romantic aspect of the place vividly upon my mind. The occasion was the casting of one of the huge bells the Burmans love so much, a ceremony of religious importance and one for which great prepara- tions are made. I elected to pay my visit the even- ing before the actual ceremony of casting, when the European element would be less in evidence, my host driving me over after dinner to the neglect of a dance to which we were both engaged.
Leaving our " tum-tum " in the road, we turned into the lane which led to the village proper. It was bright moonlight, in which the paths gleamed white, while across them fell the black shadows of the palms and jungle
29
Burma
trees which bordered them, and among which were zeyats and hpungyi-kyaungs, and many other booths and temporary buildings erected for the occasion. Emerging from mysterious depths of gloom and mov- ing through these alternations of light and shade were animated groups of Burmans, whose costume, always picturesque, gained an additional and bewildering beauty of tone in the silvery moonlight,; and the ladies, having discarded the fans and parasols of day, wore, loosely thrown over their shoulders, shawls of both delicate tints and textures. As we ascended the sloping path towards the village the scene was one of extraordinary beauty, a tone study in which the opalescent tints which prevailed were further accentuated by the glare of an occasional lamp or the positive red of paper lanterns.
In the middle of the village is a sacred tank or lake, three sides of which are surrounded by forest trees and creepers ; on the fourth is the bazaar, which lined the road, with which it was level, though the rear of the buildings, supported upon piles, overhung the water of the lake. Every building was ablaze with coloured lanterns, and in the shops anything bright of tint was exposed for sale. Here and there were cafes, decorated with bright hangings, and filled with people whose beautiful dresses gained additional lustre from the many coloured lamps by which they were illuminated. Every one was in holiday mood — smoking, chatting, laughing, gay in colour, gay in temperament. It was delightful, and the general hilarity was further en- hanced by the gambols of the youngsters, who, in paper
30
Amenities of Rangoon
masks and grotesque costumes, played tricks upon the passers-by. The road had now become a raised cause- way of bricks, set herring-bone fashion, and presently, by a flight of steps, mounted a hill deeply shaded by a mango clump. Beyond was a series of hillocks and dells upon which were built the monasteries and shrines of the village itself. Facing us was a large white building supported upon row upon row of columns between which hundreds of devotees with lighted candles " shikohed " before an enormous Buddha, recently erected, and which could not have been less than 40 feet in height. On first entering it was difficult to see through the smoke in the dim light of the candles (aided by a few electric lights), and it was only after becoming accustomed to the semi-gloom that one at last realised the presence of this enormous figure which, calm, impassive, and with an air of benign dignity, looked down upon you from the partial gloom of the smoke -wreathed roof. When, however, the consciousness of this extraordinary monument impressed itself upon you the effect was instantaneous and im- pressive, and rendered the beholder oblivious to the incongruity presented by the laughing holiday-makers who, smoking and chatting, squatted in groups upon the floor or moved indifferently among the worshippers. Leaving this temple, we roamed about the causeways which were built upon the ridges between the hills. The hollows were occupied by booths in which all kinds of " shows " were going on, each attended by a crowd of jolly sight-seers. Many of these booths were
31
Burma
hung with curtains and formed the resting-place for the Burmese ladies who, squatting on the ground, were enjoying their cigars or the varied refreshments pro- vided. In one was an exceedingly good marionette show accompanied by a Burmese orchestra, while two merry- go-rounds afforded amusement not only to the young- sters present but to many of their elders also. In the various kyaungs sat the village priests receiving the deferential salutations of the crowd and (incidentally) a varied assortment of presents. Some of these presents were curious, one I may mention being a handsome four-post brass bedstead, evidently just out from Birmingham, and which seemed to me to ill accord with the simple instincts and habits of the hpungyi. The whole scene was very animated : the contours of the undulations were plainly marked by the in- numerable lanterns everywhere displayed, each hillock being crowned by a religious building or a clump of palm trees, while the little causeways which joined them swarmed with sight-seers.
On one of these knolls were the furnaces and mould for the enormous bell which was to be cast on the morrow. The arrangements were very simple. Four furnaces, built of bricks and mud, surrounded the mould itself, a very rough structure of the same material. The fires were all aglow, the blast being furnished by an enormous fan driven by a flywheel worked by hand, the air being led to the furnaces by pipes underground. By the side of each was a pile of copper, broken pots, etc., ready for melting, and I
32
'■ '•:;',•) )\H'; IH-f t/
MA-HLA-BYU (mISS PRETTY AND FAIR)
Amenities of Rangoon
noticed that women in passing would frequently tear- off their ornaments of gold and silver, sometimes set with stones, and throw them among the broken metal as their contribution to the smelting-pot.
The whole panorama, in which masses of gaily clad humanity, bewildering lights, and strange sounds were viewed under the romantic light of a tropical moon, formed a kaleidoscope as bewildering as it was- fascinating, and I am afraid no words of mine can give an adequate impression of so strangely picturesque a scene.
It is rather sad to think that, after all this pre- liminary preparation, and the important public function which marked the day itself, through some fault in the mould the casting of the bell was a failure, and it had to be broken up. I have since been told that this particular bell weighed about 35 tons, and cost some- thing like ^1000.
The love of the Burmans for big bells is curious, the large bell in the Shwe Dagon Pagoda being about 40 tons in weight, while that of Mingun weighs nearly 80 tons, with a diameter of 16 feet at the lip. None of them, however, are good in tone, and are not to be compared with the smaller bells or the exquisitely toned gongs for which Burma is so famous.
Though in no sense typical of Burma, Rangoon is in itself sufficiently interesting to warrant a much fuller description than I have attempted, but before leaving this subject let me say a few words about the Chinese, who are already a very considerable section of the
33 5
Burma
Rangoon community, and destined, I think, to play an important part in the development of Burma. A large slice of the trade of the port is in their hands, and many of their merchants occupy positions in the municipal council and other posts of honour ; Mr. Tau San Kho, the Government archaeologist, may be given as an instance, a cultured gentleman of charming and agree- able manner, to whom I am personally indebted for an interesting glimpse at Chinese life in Rangoon.
Their houses are quite the best and richest in the native town, and are gaily painted and decorated with hanging lanterns and beautiful vases containing flowers.
I noticed that invariably the woodwork was painted red^ which, my guide informed me, was a " lucky " colour. Attached to the doors and window frames were strips of red paper inscribed in Chinese characters, all more or less tattered and weather-worn. These, it transpired, were the last year's New Year's Greetings of friends, the custom being to fix them to the doors, where they are left (again for "luck") until the next anniversary brings its fresh batch of good wishes with which to replace them.
Another point which attracts attention is the fact that the doors of Chinese dwellings are invariably in the centre of the house, they having a proverb to the effect that " luck comes in at the middle but runs out at the corners."
The Chinese have many curious superstitions, as a visit to one of their joss-houses will quickly demon- strate. Under Mr. Tau San Kho's escort I visited the
34
Amenities of Rangoon
new one at the north end, an exquisite little building which merits description. It is built on the river front, being set back from the street by an enclosed flagged square, which enables a good and uninterrupted view of the building to be obtained. The walls are of a kind of granite, greenish -grey in colour, and are broken by panels, in which are carved in low relief grotesque hunting scenes, or illustrations from the life of Con- fucius. Above are the curious up-tilted eaves and ridges of the series of roofs which cover the various chambers of the building. These roofs are of highly glazed tiles of many colours, greens, greys, and blues predominating ; the ridges terminate in finials composed of richly ornate dragons in porcelain, and between them are interspersed smaller figures of the same material. A flight of low steps leads to the entrance doors, which are guarded by finely wrought dragons in stone.
The interior is rich to a degree. Everywhere is ornamentation, the timbers are lacquered or carved like ivory, in some cases beams and joints being completely perforated almost like filigree work, and then picked out in gold and vermilion. The pillars supporting the roof are round, and composed of timber enamelled black, with inscriptions in gold running down them. At the end of the first court is a high altar, surmounted by a shrine containing figures carved out of wood, and in many parts of the building are ornamental vases containing flowers.
From the roof hang lanterns of wood, horn, or paper, each pretty or quaint, as the case might be.
35
Burma
Nearly everything is painted red, and draperies of the same colour but of different tone, paper scrolls of an orange tint, and great splashes of brick red vary a scheme of colour, sumptuous yet harmonious, and to which the black columns and green and blue pottery act as a perfect foil.
This play of genuine vermilion is splendid, and, as though with studied effect, most of the worshippers wore black or grey costumes of a soft material.
I watched one man praying at the altar for a con- ■siderable time, — a curious sight. On the altar were vases containing a number of sticks carved and differently marked ; the " worshipper " shakes the vase in a peculiar manner until eventually one stick falls out and, according to its shape and markings, he interprets the answer to his prayer. There are also small pieces of wood, about the size of a small banana, round on one side and flat on the other, which are tossed into the air and fall clattering on to the floor ; if the flat side lies uppermost it signifies " good luck," if the round side " bad luck," and if one of each, just ordinary good fortune. The man I was watching was evidently meeting with indifferent success, for he continued to shake out sticks and toss for luck with the persistence, and, I must add, the expression of a gambler until in the end they fell as he desired, and he departed quite happy !
Round the central court is a corridor illuminated in cool tints, and opening out of this are a number of smaller rooms. One is a bedroom, another a restaurant,
36
Amenities of Rangoon
while in one was a stack of paper packets, each leaf being decorated and inscribed ; these, I learnt, were prayers^ which are burnt in a stove in another room, together with the litter and sweepings of the temple ! My cicerone presented me with a packet, the top sheet of which, I was told, is a prayer for " health, more money, and lots of children " ! My guide explained to me that " the English always like to have few children, one, two, or three perhaps, but we like to have lots and lots " !
The temple was pretty well thronged with people of all races and creeds, the Chinese being most tolerant of other religions, and " not like the Mohammedans and Hindus," as my friend observed. A further instance of this attitude was presented outside where, with their patterns marked on the pavement of the courtyard, a group of Indian fishermen were busy sail- making, " for, poor fellows, they could not do it in the street " !
This joss-house has only recently been completed, at the cost of j^ 1 1 ,000, and every stick and stone of which it is composed was brought from China.
Though superstitious the Chinese are capable and industrious, easy to get on with, and ever ready to make light of their mishaps. They are good business men and hard bargainers, but once an agreement has been arrived at their given word is literally their bond, and may be implicitly trusted. Several times during my stay in Burma I was brought into close associa- tion with the Chinese, and soon found my inborn
37
Burma
antipathy and misconception give place to a growing respect and real liking for a people often ignorantly maligned.
If, as unfortunately appears to be the case, the pure Burman is destined to disappear in favour of a hybrid race, I cannot help hoping that the preponder- ating alien blood will be Chinese rather than that of the more servile and less able native of India.
38
CHAPTER III
ACROSS THE YOMAS TO TAUNGDWINGYI
Among the many friends I made in Rangoon were the heads of the Bombay-Burma Trading Corporation, who kindly invited me to visit their forest of Taungdwingyi and see something of the teak industry and jungle life. Having purchased the necessary camp equipment I made a comfortable journey by the night train to Prome, accompanied by Mr. Maclennan, their forest manager. The first break of dawn found us running through paddy fields, pleasantly broken up by palm groves and clumps of forest trees, partly veiled by the morning mists which still hung heavy on the land. As we approached Prome station the first rays of sunlight were illuminating the golden pinnacles and dome of the Shwe Tsan Daw Pagoda, just visible through the palm trees which hid the base of the hill upon which it was built. It appeared very enticing, but as it was now 6.30 A.M., and we had to start by steamer at 7 a.m., Prome and its pagoda had to be reserved for a further visit.
As we entered the station Mr. Litchfield, of the
39
Burma
Survey of India, was waiting to receive us, and with the courtesy so typical of the country had prepared chota hazri for us, which his servants had brought to the station, and after a brief salutation and a hasty repast we started for our steamer.
On climbing the river-bank from the station, I do not think I ever saw a more beautiful view than this first glimpse of the Irrawaddy in the early dawn. The sun had only just risen, and the mists, floating in wreaths above the river, hung on the wooded heights on the other side or lay in the valleys like snowdrifts, the crests of the heavily wooded hills being lost to view. The river is wide, probably a mile or so, placid, deep, and swirling in eddies along the bank, now crowded with coolies transferring mails and baggage to the steamer.
The Irrawaddy is a noble stream, in the swift silence of its flow reminding me strongly of the Nile, though I missed the beautiful lateen-sailed boats of Egypt. There were few vessels on the river, though the dug- out canoes and an occasional " laung-zat " ^ moving slowly over its placid surface gave it a particular interest of its own. The eastern bank is not high, but on the western side the land rises in tiers of serrated hills to a height of probably three or four thousand feet. Every hill is heavily covered with growth, and the banks are beautiful with varied foliage, in which the feathery bamboo contrasts pleasingly with the denser habit of the forest trees, while the toddy palm rears its high
* A cargo boat. 40
THE RIVER AT PROME MORNINCx MISTS RISING
Across the Yomas to Taungdwingyi
crest in rivalry with the ever-present pagoda. Our steamer started promptly, the character of the banks varying little as we proceeded upstream, though the almost instantaneous disappearance of the morning fogs opened up more extended vistas, and enabled one to judge better as to the general characteristics of the scenery.^
On the river banks are Burmese villages constructed mainly of bamboo, while nearly every knoll is crowned by a pagoda or a monastery. On the sand-banks of the river are fishing huts, which will be washed away next rise, and at frequent intervals rafts of enormous size drift slowly towards the teak mills in Rangoon. Smaller craft of various kinds, under sail or drifting with the stream, together with the animated crowds which, in search of profit or amusement, thronged the landing-places at which we stopped,Jcept one's interest alive until, about sun-down, we reached the town of Thayetmyo. Here we had to transfer from the mail- steamer to a small ferry-boat, on which we spent the night.
Leaving early in the morning, a short run brought us to Meegyoungyai, where it had been arranged for coolies, bullock gharries, and ponies to be waiting to
* These jungle-clad hills are, I am told, full of game, and I heard of one particularly sportsmanlike event which took place hereabout. A gentleman coming down the river in a steamer, in searching the banks with his field- glasses, picked up what he took to be the trail of a rhinoceros, and persuad- ing the captain to put him ashore, he with his " shikarri " followed the trail for several hours, eventually coming up with and killing a fine *' rhino," the head of which he was able to take away.
41 6
Burma
transport us to the forest ; and, our stores and kits having been landed, we found ourselves at about 4 P.M. comfortably installed in the dak bungalow for the night. I noticed, by the way, that all the coolie work in connection with the landing of the cargo from the steamer was performed by women and girls (the men preferring to look on and smoke), and it was surprising what enormous weights even young girls were able to carry on their heads.
This village and dak being typical, I may as well describe them here.
The village is built on the banks of the river, prettily situated among the groves of trees which over- hang the pools below. On its other three sides is a high stockade of thorns, overgrown with yellow con- volvulus and other creepers. At each side are gates, which are shut at night and placed under the charge of a guard, no one being allowed to pass after dark. Within the huge compound so formed are groves of toddy palms, mango, and tamarind, amongst which are the houses of the Burmans. These are usually built of bamboo, though many have their principal timbers of eng wood, all being raised from the ground on piles four to six feet in height as a safeguard against floods, snakes, and malaria. The floors are usually of split bamboo, the thatch of elephant grass, or " thekke " ; bamboo mats, called " tayan," prettily plaited and often in coloured patterns, serve as walls, but as the side nearest the street is usually open the whole interior arrangements and domestic occupations are exposed to view. About the
42
t,t i .^
THE IRRAWADDY VALLEY AT MEEGYOUNGYAI
^IjfeV
:;i
Across the Yomas to Taungdwingyi
houses are the occupants, brightly picturesque, while the little boys and girls run naked. Pigeons and poultry, geese and dogs are everywhere, inside and underneath the houses, and the hot air is full of sweet nastiness from the Burmese kitchens. Generally speaking, the houses are more or less in line, forming streets, which are now busy with returning bullock gharries and driven cattle coming home for the night, as it is not safe for cattle to be left outside after sunset.^
The dak bungalow lies outside the town, among a number of ruined pagodas, and stands in a stockade of its own. It is built much in the same manner as the Burmese huts, but is mainly composed of wood and stands higher. A flight of steps leads to the verandah, which is about lo feet above the ground. This verandah forms the general living room, out of which are two bedrooms, each with a bath-room attached. The kitchen, stables, and servants' quarters are built in the compound outside. These daks are built by the Government for the use of travellers, and have usually a Durwan or Kansammah in charge, and are supplied with such utensils as are absolutely necessary for comfort.
^ All villages in Burma are stockaded, usually by a thorn zariba, or, in the case of hill villages, by chevaux-de-frise.
On each side is a gate made of heavy planks of teak, which run on wheels, and are by law closed at nightfall as a protection against both wild animals and dacoits. The villagers are compelled to keep guard at night, when no stranger is allowed to enter the village. Keeping guard is called "kin," the guard himself "kinthamah," and by the gate is usually erected a little booth, which serves as his sentry-box and is called "kinteaine." These stockades, overgrown as they usually are by many kinds of flowering creepers, have a very pretty effect.
43
Burma
The view from the bungalow looking across the Irrawaddy valley towards the distant Arracan Yomas ^ was exceedingly beautiful, green to the farthest distance with its first spring foliage.
The name Meegyoungyai, 1 was informed, meant Alligator water, a title sufficiently appropriate, though I was later given another explanation, which I believe to be more correct, and which is certainly quaint enough to repeat. Long ago, says the legend, a huge alligator carried away a cow belonging to a poor farmer, who, in great distress, appealed to the forest " Nats " for assistance, which was readily forthcoming. One of these, assuming the form of a monkey, went down to the river bank and began to disport himself in the trees which overhung the pool in which the alligator was lying. Attracted by his antics and chattering, the alligator slowly came out of the water on to the bank, the better to watch him, but said nothing. Pretending to have just discovered the alligator's presence the monkey poured forth a torrent of derision and abuse upon him, but still the alligator remained silent. After a time the monkey suddenly exclaimed : " Why, it is not an alligator at all, it cannot even laugh." "Yes, I can," exclaimed the now exasperated saurian, and opening his wide jaws for that purpose out jumped the cow, which ran away up the bank into the forest, and was restored by the Nat to its owner. From that day the place has been called " Meegyoungyai " or "Laughing alligator," the word Meegyoung mean-
' " Yoma " means literally " backbone."
44
Across the Yomas to Taungdwingyi
ing alligator, and the terminal syllable, ye or yai, meaning " water or laughter," a very slight difference of intonation being the only possible difference between the two interpretations.
At one time Meegyoungyai must have been a town of some importance, a large number of pagodas still remaining, while far beyond the limits of the present village may be found traces of larger theins, shrines, and monastic buildings, so ruinous as to be hardly distinguishable among the undergrowth. One of these " kyaungs " is still occupied, and I was greatly struck by a pretty ceremony which takes place daily.
The sun had just set, and while preparing for our evening meal, the sound of a deep-toned gong stole through the warm air ; before its reverberations had ceased first one and then another was sounded, until per- haps twenty or more gongs of different pitches, but all with that purity of tone distinctive of the Burmese bronzes, combined in one swelling and melodious even- song. I inquired as to its meaning, and was informed that this was the usual " pyashikoh," the habits of the monastery being as follows. At first break of dawn all the priests, novices, and pupils assemble for prayer, after which the boys are occupied with their lessons. Meals are taken at 7 and 11.30 a.m., the priests being for- bidden to touch food from 1 2 noon until after morning prayers the next day, the pupils, however, having their meals as usual. The day's work being finished, priests and pupils assemble in their different kyaungs,
45
Burma
and to the sound of the first gong the lessons learned during the day are repeated. A second gong is the signal for general prayer ; the third, in which all the gongs in the different monasteries are struck together, is the final Amen, and after this silence.
The day's work begins early in Burma : our usual custom was to take our chota hazri by candle-light at 4.30 or 5 A.M., so as to be ready for a start at the first flush of dawn, and, as all animals rest between ten and four o'clock, our journeys had to be made in the early morning or in the cool of the evening.
Leaving Meegyoungyai in the grey dawn our road lay over the Yomas, a gradually ascending track of land covered with scrub jungle, and, excepting for occasional patches of Indian corn and sessamine, entirely uncultivated. There were few trees, and as the sun rose higher the dust and heat became very trying, no shade of any kind being obtainable. The grass was sunburnt and brown, and on the higher levels the few trees there were, were already in their autumn foliage. The scrub, however, was still green, and though the scenery generally could hardly be called beautiful, it had an interest to me in its strange flowers, new growths, birds and butterflies, which robbed the dusty journey of some of its tedium. Through the jungle enormous herds of cattle are roaming, all draught animals turned loose by their owners until required for transport purposes. All the cattle in the fields wear bells ; sometimes these are of bronze, but more generally of hard wood made in the form of an
46
Across the Yomas to Taungdwingyi
oblong box, in which hang four or more clappers. These serve the double purpose of locating the cattle as well as frightening away snakes as they browse. It was a lonely country, almost devoid of inhabitants, and one which dacoits were known to frequent. Indeed, the day before I rode over it a Government convoy had been attacked and robbed of several thousand pounds by a band in the vicinity. During our ride we met a second convoy consisting of two or three bullock-carts guarded by an escort of Sikhs. On approaching us bayonets were fixed, and with a great show of alertness the proper military salute was given. Otherwise we met little on the road except an occasional bullock train driven by Burmans, who in each case were polite enough to draw up their carts until we had passed lest we should be smothered in the dust. Altogether it is a hot and tedious journey, and I was very glad at the end of thirteen miles to reach the dak bungalow of Thityahgouk, pleasantly situated among green fields 900 feet above the sea level.
Though the ride from Meegyoungyai remains in my mind as the least interesting I made in Burmah, certain interesting facts recall themselves as I write. It was curious, for instance, to find in a district so sparsely inhabited and practically devoid of cultivation, a large number of pagodas, many semi-ruined and covered with creepers, and occasionally a yellow-robed priest praying at the shrine.
Here also I made acquaintance with the cutch tree, rather to my cost. My pony was flagging under the
47
Burma
hot sun, and thinking a switch might aid matters, I rode up to a tree densely clothed with feathery foliage in order to break off a branch for the purpose. The hidden branches proved to be covered with a multi- tude of fine thorns, and I was obliged to let my pony wander on at his own pace while I devoted my attention to my lacerated fingers.
Among other trees I noticed was the teak, and one which I took to be blue gum, and cactus and aloes were plentiful. There were a fair number of birds, including doves, hoopoes, miners, wagtails, woodpeckers, green pigeons, and blue jays, and at Thityahgouk I saw a new species in the shape of a white vulture, occupied in tearing the dead leaves from off a toddy palm for nesting purposes.
In contrast to the dusty road we had just traversed, the view from the bungalow at Thityahgouk was like a glimpse of the promised land. From its high position on the crest of the Yomas the scene was an extended one. At our feet was the little village, so completely surrounded by its vine-covered barricade that only the highest roofs were visible from the outside. Beyond was a sea of foliage, forest trees covering ridge after ridge like green billows, over which the eye roamed from point to point delightedly.
In the distance, over this succession of verdure-clad hills, was the valley of the Sittang, plainly marked by the filmy haze which hung above the river. Beyond, the land rose in a further succession of hills, gradually becoming bluer as the distance grew, until on the
48
;i. I. '»;:->! ^\:>]J--
SCRUB JUNGLE
Across the Yomas to Taungdwingyi
farthest horizon, and across the watershed of the Salween could be plainly seen the crest of a noble mountain, which I was told was situated in Siam, 120 miles away. It was a splendid panorama seen under the best conditions, the air having been cleared by heavy showers which had fallen during the day, while the shadows of the monsoon clouds which hung above the land gave relief to its undulations.
We spent the night here in the dak bungalow, where I was fortunate in meeting Mr. Long, a forest officer, who in our short evening together gave me a great deal of valuable instruction upon forestry, a subject upon which I have found great difficulty in obtaining accurate information. Unfortunately he was bound for Magwe, a day's ride in the opposite direction to my own, and I have not since had the pleasure or benefit of his companionship.
A rather tiring ride of twenty miles brought me to Taungdwingyi, the road being well metalled and rather harder going than the looser tracks of the jungle, but throughout well fringed with fine trees, and very much like a good country road in Somerset or Cheshire. At frequent intervals along the roadside were little thatched receptacles on poles called " yaiohzin," in which were jars of drinking water, the water-pots being kept constantly replenished by those living in the vicinity as an " act of merit." The drinking-cup is usually formed of polished cocoa-nut shell, with a long handle of some hard wood.
I noticed also that the distances were marked by
49 7
Burma
wooden posts every quarter of a mile, and this appeared to be the general rule on made roads throughout the country. By walking one mile and cantering the next we made good time, and in the early afternoon arrived at the comfortable and roomy bungalow of the Bom- bay-Burma Trading Corporation, on the outskirts of Taungdwingyi.
During these two days I made my first personal acquaintance with the Burman, for, with the exception of my own Indian servant, all our attendants were natives of the country.
I was much struck with the innate politeness which characterised them, their services being rendered quite naturally, and more with the air of an equal wishing to honour his guest than with the obsequiousness of the hireling, though at the same time with complete respect. Their voices, too, are pleasant, and their movements in the house and in attending to our wants at table had much of the natural grace of women. Indeed, so much is this the case at times, that, were it not for the head scarf which they wear, an adornment which the women do not affect, it would sometimes be difficult in the case of young men to determine their sex. I have been told, though with what truth I cannot say, that the uni- versal custom of the male Burman to be tattooed from the waist to just above the knee was ordered by a former king in order to facilitate the instant recognition of the sexes. Whatever its origin, however, the custom exists, and many of the patterns with which their limbs are adorned are of the most ornate description.
50
Across the Yomas to Taungdwingyi
This ride also served to introduce me to the Burmese pony, which I found to be a hardy and sure- footed little beast, much like the Iceland pony in character, but like him badly bred. That fine ponies may be bred in Burma the large number of smart polo ponies to be found in Mandalay and elsewhere is ample proof, but, speaking generally, the ponies met with in the country are utterly lacking in points of breeding, and are often undersized. The Government recognises the importance of improving the breed, though the sum of Rs.3000 allowed annually to further this object is totally inadequate, and shows that it has hardly realised the importance of the question to a country where railways are few and journeys are so largely made by road or forest paths.
The Burmese appear to be fond of their animals and, so far as I have seen, treat them well. One curious and cruel custom came under my notice here, however. After a journey the native administers a strong counter- irritant to fatigue in the shape of eye medicine, some irritating preparation being applied to the eyes of elephants, bullocks, and ponies after a hard day's work. These preparations are of various kinds, such as Chili pepper, ginger, or salt, powdered, and wet with spirits ; cloves and pepper, sometimes nutmeg, and asafoetida are also used, in fact almost anything calculated to make the animal's eye smart.
With regard to their ponies, the Burmans' pride seems to be in their tails, the length of which regulates the price asked. An instance occurred in
51
Burma
Taungdwingyl which exemplifies this. During a " deal " between a Burman and an Englishman the price demanded was palpably excessive, the Burman laying great stress upon the length of its hirsute adornment. In a momentary spirit of mischief the Englishman quickly docked the pony's tail, exclaiming, " Now, will you take my offer ^ " " Take it away," cried the native in despair ; " it is no use to any one now " ; and he was then quite willing to accept almost any sum offered, though the figure was eventually fixed at a fair and reasonable sum.
52
CHAPTER IV
IN A BURMESE MARKET TOWN
Still a village of considerable size, Taungdwingyi must at one time have been an important place, judging by the remains of its ancient walls and fortifications, and the large number of religious buildings, now mostly in a ruinous condition. The village is pictur- esque, and its approaches particularly are pretty. The roads are bounded by deep ditches, full during the monsoon, though now almost dry ; these are spanned by quaint wooden bridges, which lead to the dwellings of the natives. The streets are wide and grass grown, and form delightful pony tracks, of which the Burman is not slow to avail himself, and many trotting matches take place in these quiet thoroughfares. Trees abound in and about the village, avenues of banyan and tamarind alternating with groves of toddy palms.
The people are simply though nicely dressed, and the scenes on the road as they come and go are most characteristic. I never failed to experience a feeling of pleasurable surprise on seeing a daintily clad girl emerge from some humble thatched hut, looking so bright and clean, and arranging her silken scarf round
53
Burma
her neck, or giving the final pat to her well-dressed hair before starting upon her promenade or errand. These people have so much that is innately pretty in their composition that nature itself seems to be beauti- fied by their presence, and even the poorest have a peculiar faculty for arranging and wearing their simple garments to advantage.
I spent a week or more in this delightful village, the first I had actually lived in, and look back upon my time with sincerest pleasure. Its resident magistrate, Mr. Hill, did everything possible to assist my work and make my visit pleasant, while my friends of the Bombay -Burma Trading Corporation, Messrs. Mac- lennan, Smythe, and Skeene, were indefatigable in their efforts to ensure my comfort.
The homes of the people were much as I have already described, but I had more leisure here in which to notice their daily habits and occupations.
In the streets are the children playing with the " pi " dogs or making mud pies in the puddles. Little toy carts and peg-tops amuse some, while the boys are very fond of kite-flying ; but not content with simply winding the line round a stick, as our urchins do, they use a large drum revolving on a handle, rather like a magnified fishing reel. Toy boats and marbles are other amusements aflTected in the intervals of school, where squatting in rows upon the floor the lesson is recited in a sing-song manner, much after the fashion of our own board schools.
Through the open front of the houses the passer-
54
A VILLAGE SHOP
In a Burmese Market Town
by has many a pleasant glimpse of domesticity. In one, slung on cords from the roof beams, hangs a wicker cradle (called a " paket "), in which a pretty young mother gently rocks her child to sleep. Before another, or in some grassy lane, a would-be toddler receives its first lesson in walking ; all the young infants I noticed were carried astride the shoulder, as in Egypt. Young women come and go bearing pots of water or bundles of firewood, while their elders sit at their thresholds stitching up cotton "lungyis," or the more ornate silk " petsoe."
Attached to the houses is often a " lean-to " shed, in which cooking operations are carried on, and as usual in the space between the ground and the floor the live stock of the establishment finds its habitation.
Here also is one of the best - ordered and most interesting jails I have ever inspected, in which Mr. Hill took a very pardonable pride. Everything about the place was beautifully kept, and clean to a degree, while even the inner courtyards were planted with crotons and vegetables, only the well-kept gravel walks being used for prisoners' exercise. The jail, by the way, was more than self-supporting from the sale of its garden produce and the matting, baskets, and utensils manufactured by the prisoners.
As usual, the police were Indian military police, and it happened that their annual musketry training was going on while I was there. The range was just outside the town, the butts being part of an old " bund," and the target composed of a paper screen.
55
Burma
1 found that the men were using smooth-bore Sniders with round bullets, the charge consisting of 2^ drams of black powder. Of course such weapons had no great range, and were very erratic on account of "windage," but it was surprising what good practice the men made at 200 and 300 yards, scoring an average of" inners."
We Europeans took advantage of the targets being in position to organise a rifle meeting of our own, and though we used the service rifle and ammunition, I am afraid we hardly made so good a record as the police- men with their more primitive arms. It was a very pleasant episode, however, and I was struck with the good-fellowship existing among the men, and their evident aflfection for both the magistrate and their commanding officer, Mr. O'Donnell.
Close to the range is a secluded hpungyi settlement, among whose pretty kyaungs are fish ponds overhung with willows and rich in iris and lily, and, hidden away among the trees, is an ancient " thein " of strikingly good design and decoration, built of terra-cotta brick, but now entirely ruinous. I tried to ascertain something of its history and date, but no one was able to give me any information on these points. Behind the town is a large "jeel," or lake, covered with lotus and sur- rounded by reedy marsh-land, in which snipe and wild duck abound, and I gathered that game of many kinds is to be found in the immediate neighbourhood of the town, including sine, bison, barking-deer, and
pig-
56
FIRST STEf^S
In a Burmese Market Town
Taungdwingyi, however, has an evil reputation for snakes, and the police records show an annual mortality from snake-bite of over 400. Though I had heard so much of reptile life in Burma I had, so far, not seen a single snake, and, in spite of a fairly careful search among its broken masonry and undergrowth, I failed to find any here. No doubt the noise caused by the heavy boots worn by the Europeans alarms them, while the barefooted native, coming upon them unawares, is too often struck.
A bazaar is held in Taungdwingyi every fifth day, people coming in from a wide area, together with numbers of professional peddlers who wander through the country. Every bazaar, therefore, in addition to the local population, is frequented by types from different parts of Burma.
The market-place is a large open space, enclosed by high wooden palings, within which are several permanent buildings as well as temporary booths composed of matting and coloured cloths. These are so arranged as to divide the market into sections, each more or less frequented by vendors of the different classes of goods and produce offered for sale.
All Eastern markets are more or less the same in general character, but this one struck me as being a particularly bright and animated scene, in which the fruit and vegetables exposed for sale were hardly less vivid in colouring than the costumes of the vendors, and a distinct local touch was given by the sunshades of paper or oiled calico carried by the women, or which,
57 8
Burma
stuck into the ground, formed a grateful shelter for the stallholders.
Among the articles exposed for sale were saffron, betel nut, bananas, wild pineapples and papaya, as well as many other fruits and vegetables, among which, by the way, was the pumpkin-like fruit of the bael tree, the juice of which is supposed to be very efficacious in cases of dysentery.
The shops of the permanent buildings contained a curious assortment of wares : Burmese silks, Manchester cotton goods, Sheffield hardware, and school books and pencils from Germany ; curious wooden combs and pattens, and, what was always a source of special attraction to the ladies, cheap looking-glasses capable of a maximum of distortion.
Unwholesome-looking sweetmeats and cakes made of flour, " toddy," sugar, and spices, excite the wistful glances of the youngsters, and in all corners of the bazaar were stalls for the sale of food. In one, sausages and rice cakes simmer over a little charcoal fire, while from the next is wafted the delicious smell of sandalwood as a corrective. Roast meat, cut into small strips, is spitted on bamboo skewers, which are stuck all round the rim of a basket containing what at first sight appeared to be candles of unusual size. These, however, prove to be " sticks " of rice prepared in a curious way. A special kind of rice called " kowknyin " is placed in a green bamboo, together with a little water, the bamboo then being closed with a plug and put into the fire ; by the time the bamboo is dried
58
MARKET-PLACE AT TAUNGDWING YI
TW«l'"ii "^-^it* ^fii™ > »
In a Burmese Market Town
and commences to burn the rice is cooked. The bamboo is then split, and the rice, beautifully cooked, is extracted in the compact form aforesaid.
Another curious dish I noticed was composed of flowers and red ants. The flowers are plucked when covered with ants, which feed upon them ; they are then put into salt and water and used as a flavouring for curry and other dishes. This also is supposed to have medicinal properties, particularly in the case of rheum- atism and at child-birth. This dish is very sour in flavour, and is called " thargin."
One corner of the market was given up to the sale of earthen cooking pots, their bright terra-cotta contrasting well with the costumes and the greenish- grey baskets of bamboo which lie in all directions. Some of these baskets are of enormous size, and the designs of all are quaint and at times elegant. Another portion is occupied by the country carts, covered with their hoods of " tayan," and beneath whose shade the idlers of the market sleep.
Hpungyis, bearing a receptacle of burnished brass or vermilion lacquer, wander through the serried ranks collecting " sun " to the sound of a gong, while Karens and Shans, Chins and Kachins, as well as natives of India, give additional variety to a motley throng, which, however, is mostly purely Burman.
Although I had an interpreter with me, my ignorance of the language unfortunately prevented my full enjoy- ment of much of the humour of the bazaar. I was attracted, however, by the singular appearance of a
59
Burma
middle-aged man, who, squatting on the ground, was dispensing medicaments. His hair was coiled very much on the side of the head, around which was wound his coloured " goun^boung," ^ one end of which hung over his ear in a jaunty manner, which belied his apparent age. He proved to be the village doctor, and the strange wares spread upon the cloth before him were no less curious than his own appearance. These con- sisted of boars' tusks and bits of bone, dried herbs, coloured stones, and the bark of various trees, little bottles containing powders and strange compounds, and various charms which, if I were to describe them, would, I fear, shock the susceptibilities of many of my readers, but from which 1 judged that his were largely faith cures based upon superstition. Here, in contrast, comes a lady arrayed in silks and attended by her companion, daintily testing the qualities of the fabrics she wishes to buy ; yet she is not above a vigorous use of the vulgate in the negotiations necessary to the occasion. In another place I saw a withered old lady dispensing a stew from a large pot by her side ; while conversing with her neighbours, a pony browsing through the market-place thrust his dusty nose under her arm into the pot, and managed to swallow a fair quantity of the contents. Hitting him on the muzzle with her ladle, the old lady indignantly waved the pony away, exclaiming, " Get away, pony, what do you think you are playing at } " and then calmly proceeded with the sale of her concoction, which was apparently con-
' Turban. 60
In a Burmese Market Town
sidered none the worse for the pony's intrusion. All over the place crows and hawks vie with " pi " dogs and half-naked urchins in scrambling for odd tit-bits, and almost above the hum of voices sounds the buzzing of flies as they struggle in the sticky sweetmeats.
After the glare of the open market it was pleasant to enter the central building, in which silks and the finer fabrics are mostly sold. It was very cool and shady, and at the junction of its four arcades is a large fountain, where the sound of the splashing water serves to increase a sense of coolness and refreshment.
Taungdwingyi is a great centre of the manufacture and the sale of silk, and at nearly every stall silks of different colours figure largely. These stalls are usually kept by women of good social standing, who, almost without exception, were good-looking and graceful. They did not appear to me, however, to be very intent on selling their goods, many of them being more occupied with their toilet, aided by one of the small mirrors aforesaid. The local silk, by the way, is of exceptionally fine quality, and I made several purchases here, which I have altogether failed to match in London. One might go on indefinitely describing the incidents of a village bazaar, and indeed it would be difficult to convey any adequate impression of a scene in which were combined brilliant colour, interesting faces, strange occupations, bustle and movement in bewildering con- fusion.
Altogether I found this bazaar most attractive, and I made many sketches here ; one corner only I found
6i
Burma
was to be avoided, and that was the portion of the market allocated to the butchers, who were nearly always natives of India, the Burmese being forbidden by their religion to take life in any form. A butcher's shop is never a very attractive sight, but here, in the hot air, alive with flies, meat surely never looked less attractive, while underneath and about the stalls " pi " dogs snarled and quarrelled for the garbage. The Burmans, however, are not squeamish, and were eager customers. Indeed, such is their greed for flesh that they consume every portion of the carcase, the in- testines included.^
My time in Taungdwingyi passed all too quickly ; I found it an exceedingly agreeable place in which to work, while the companionship aflbrded by the few Europeans resident in the village was very pleasant. On most afternoons I was accompanied by one of my friends, and it became a habit with us when work was finished for the day to drop into Mr. Hill's house, where, whether he was at home or not, " pegs " would always be brought to us by his bearer, while we lounged on long chairs on the verandah and amused ourselves with his gramophone. I never before realised the power of amusement embodied in this somewhat despised in- strument, yet, as we were far away from other forms of entertainment, a banjo quartette or a song from an
"" ^ Later on, in the forest, I heard also of cases where elephants which had died of anthrax and been buried, had been afterwards exhumed and feasted upon by Burmans ! — disgusting orgies, to put a stop to which the Bombay-Burma Trading Corporation now in all cases cremate the bodies of any animals which may happen to die, from any cause whatever.
62
A BURMESE HAMLET
In a Burmese Market Town
opera, even as rendered by a gramophone, was a real source of enjoyment.
In Taungdwingyi also I experienced one of those delightful rencontres which are among the many attrac- tions of travel. I had, just as usual, come in from my day's work when a new arrival appeared in the shape of a mud-bespattered and very hot " shikarri," just come in from a day's snipe-shooting. I was rather surprised to hear the exclamation : " Hullo, Kelly, who expected to see you here ! " I then discovered him to be Captain Moffut, of the King's Own Scottish Borderers, then stationed at Thayetmyo, whose friendship I had made many years ago when his regiment was quartered in Egypt. We had a long chat over old friends and places, followed by an invitation to visit his mess when next I was on the river, — an invitation I warmly accepted, and of which I was fortunately able to avail myself shortly afterwards.
While waiting for the preparations for our forest journey to be • completed, my friends had arranged a " pwe " for me, which was given on the last evening 1 spent at Taungdwingyi.
These " pwes " are the national plays of Burma, and are of three kinds : —
1. The zappwe, or drama, in which men and women perform.
2. The hanpwe, or ballets.
3. The yotthepwe, or marionettes.
Of these, the second is entirely performed by young girls, amateurs, who, dressed in court costumes, per-
63
Burma
form the conventional dance of Burma to the ac- companiment of an orchestra, which I will presently describe. Their drill is perfect, and their sense of time and rhythm as they move together quite extra- ordinary. This performance always takes place during the day, and is considered one of the most beautiful pageants in Burma.
The performance arranged on my behalf, however, was the zappwe, or drama, performed by professional actors engaged by the hosts.
In the compound in front of the bungalow a rough stage of bamboo draped with coloured cloths had been erected, and towards sun-down people began to arrive for the performance, every one being welcome on these occasions. Practically all the village came, some walk- ing, some driving, and took up their positions in a large semicircle facing the stage, in the centre of which chairs had been placed for us.
By 7.30 (dinner-time) the performers arrived, and commenced to dress for their parts in front of the large audience which had gathered, the tedium of waiting being further relieved by the tuning of the instruments of the orchestra.
As these " pwes " continue for an interminable length of time, the outside of this ring of spectators gradually assumed the appearance of a bazaar. Fires were lit and stalls erected for the sale of hot coffee, cakes, curry and rice, and a variety of stews. Outside these was a ring of bullock-gharries occupied by women of superior position, with their children, many of whom
64
In a Burmese Market Town
were quite naked, others being simply wrapped up irk a lungyi.
Next to the stage were the musicians, eight in number, now busy tuning up. The instruments used are peculiar and deserve description. First is the " sine," a circular " tub " with perforated and carved sides, round the inside of which are suspended on strings two octaves of drums, or tom-toms, covered with black goat skin. These are tuned by clay being squeezed on to the skin until the right pitch is reached. The skilful manner in which the operator manages the clay is interesting to watch, and it forms a pretty pattern in white upon the dark skin. These drums are called "patlongyi," and are played with the flat of the fingers, the musician sitting in the middle of the ring. The " chenoungwine " is a similar instrument, which stands higher and in which circular bronze gongs take the place of the drums. Each of these gongs, or " chenoung," is tuned by pouring from behind a little melted wax into a boss or projection in the centre^ Once tuned they retain their pitch, and the other instruments are periodically attuned to them. Here also the player sits in the middle of the gongs, which entirely encircle him, and uses a small drumstick, with which, by a quick backward turn of the wrist, he strikes those behind him with equal facility to the others. There is also a big drum called " patmagyi," and the smaller " boundouk," both of which are struck with the open palm ; large cymbals called " legwin," and a smaller pair called " thanlwin." The " waletkok " is a
65 9
Burma
clapper made of bamboo, and the full band of eight is completed by the " hne," a reed instrument rather like a flageolet, but with a large bell mouth of brass. The tone of this " trumpet " is rather strident, but, modi- fied by the^ softer and more melodious "sine" and ** chenoungwine," the orchestra combined in producing music, which, if somewhat barbaric, was pleasing in its general effect, and I think quite the best Eastern music I had heard.
After half an hour's overture the play began, but as it was performed in court language, which few but Burmans can understand, my friends were unable to give me a very accurate interpretation of the play, though sufficient to enable me to understand the plot, which in this case was as follows.
A prince was informed by his minister that in a certain far-distant town, in which was a famous shrine, there dwelt a girl of very great beauty. He decided to journey thither, ostensibly to make a pilgrimage to the shrine, but in reality to see the young woman.
She happened to be of low degree, he a prince ; but, hearing that he had travelled all that distance in order to admire her beauty, she made violent love to him. He was at first unresponsive, but eventually succumbing to her charms took her away with him to his own home. His female relations, however, discover- ing his mesalliance, and (here is the sting) that he had paid her debts, became very angry and ill-treated the girl shamefully.
She, however, like another Griselda, submitted to all
66
A STREET IN TAUNGDWINGYI
In a Burmese Market Town
this persecution with so much sweetness and patience, that in the end even the female relations themselves were compelled to admire so much virtue, and, learn- ing to love the girl, commended the prince's judgment, and everything ended happily.
Scenery there was none, and all the players were on the stage together, whether they were in the scene or not, those who were " unemployed " placidly smoking until they had to respond to their cues, when the cigar would be handed to another to be kept alight until their act was over. The characters in the play are generally the same — a prince, a princess, and chief clown as principals, with minor characters representing good and evil spirits, with, I think, always some representation of a dragon. The plots are almost always a narrative of wrongs patiently borne by the injured lady, whose long-suffering is eventually rewarded by complete happiness. The performance itself consists largely of singing and dancing, most of which is allotted to the princess, who is often " on " for hours at a stretch. The singing is not unmusical, and the dancing very quaint, consisting largely of a slow shuffling along the stage on the flat of the foot, with an occasional back- ward kick with the heel. Meanwhile the arms are gesticulating in a most extraordinary manner, the play of hands and wrists being an especially noticeable point. The humour of the play naturally devolved upon the chief clown, whose remarks are, I hear, usually witty, though with the inevitable touch of immorality.
During the dialogues, as well as in song accompani-
67
Burma
ment, the incidental music was distinctly good I thought, and in the open air at any rate the combined tone of the orchestra was melodious.
The great attraction to me, however, lay in the character studies offered by the audience. All ages and social grades were represented. Very old people crouched over their cigars or huddled together in the cold night air, while naked babies lay in the laps of their gaily dressed mothers, who laughed and chatted with native officials or half-clad coolies. I noticed one little boy, standing bolt upright, who proved to be fast asleep, and towards midnight many of the elders also became drowsy, and would take it in turns to have a short nap, having previously arranged with their neighbours that they should be aroused when certain particularly interesting episodes occurred.
The whole scene, illuminated by the flickering light •of the stage lamps and camp fires, was very fascinating, and it was some time after midnight before I could bring myself to leave it. The play, however, continued till after 2 a.m.,^ and I learned next day that the leading lady was on the boards the whole of the time !
* These " pwes," I hear, often continue for a whole day, or even two.
68
CHAPTER V
JUNGLE LIFE AT KOKOGON
I WAS very sorry to leave Taungdwingyi, where every moment of my time had been pleasantly employed, though my regret was somewhat modified by anticipations of the forest life before me, and the fact that two of my friends, Maclennan and Smythe, were to accompany me. Leaving the bungalow at sunset, a two-hours' ride in the starlight brought us to Sathwa. The road, so called by courtesy, was terribly bad, and riding would have been difficult even by daylight, as the track (for it was little else) had been so badly cut up by cart wheels during the rains, which were only just over, that it was scored in all directions by ruts a foot or more in depth, which the sun of the last few days had baked as hard as bricks. Added to this was the fact that on either side were dense masses of jungle and forest growths, which effectually impeded what little light there was, and hid these pitfalls in an impenetrable gloom. I consider that it was more by good luck than anything else that we got through without an accident or damage to the ponies. However, we reached the
69
Burma
dak safely about 9 p.m., and turned in early, preparatory to our start at sunrise.
I was interested during the ride to hear our Burmese attendants singing at the pitch of their voices, an ebulli- tion which I attributed to pure light-heartedness until I noticed that they sang loudest where the road was darkest. In reply to my inquiry, Maclennan informed me that the men were singing, " not for the fun of it," but in order to frighten away the " Nats." This superstitious feeling I found accounted for another fact which had attracted my attention. When moving, the Burmese carts are always accompanied by a horrible groaning and squeaking of the wheels ; I suggested a little grease on the axles, but learned that they preferred to have it so, as the noise, which travelled an immense distance in the still air, not only wards off the evil spirits of the forest, but also serves as a warning to their wives at home that the " master " was homeward bound, and would shortly be in want of his supper !
The dak at Sathwa was much as others, except that the flooring boards were set so far apart that we experi- enced as much breeze from underneath as from the open verandah, and one had to be careful as to the position of the legs of chairs or camp bed, and as a matter of fact, while taking my bath, both sponge and soap dropped between the boards and had to be sought for below by candle-light.
The following morning elephants had arrived and were loaded up with our baggage and sent off, we following a little later on pony-back.
70
A DAK BUNGALOW
Jungle Life at Kokogon
A fatiguing journey through " paddy " fields, scrub jungle, and occasional forest patches, lay between us and Kokogon, in the heart of the forest itself, and to be my headquarters for the time being.
Travelling was slow and tedious owing to the absence of roads. In the cultivated lands the only pathway consisted of the tortuous little bunds or dykes which separated the irrigated patches, while in the forest dense undergrowth, largely of thorns and creepers, impeded progress and made riding difficult.
I was very much surprised at the speed with which the elephants covered the ground. Through the difficult " paddy " land they were quicker than the ponies. In some places the bunds were very narrow and slippery, while every here and there were little creeks crossed by a single log, or else by means of a ford in which the ponies floundered heavily in mud a couple of feet or more in depth, yet in every case the elephants nego- tiated these difficult crossings more comfortably than the ponies.
The " paddy " was ripe and harvesting in full operation. The Burmans use sickles for reaping, cut- ting the straw half-way up so as to gather some and yet leave enough for the cattle in the fields to browse upon. The rice is bound into sheaves with a " strap," as at home, and is later on carted to the " talin " or threshing-floor, where, in the usual Eastern manner, the grain is trodden out by bullocks. Winnowing is performed by means of a circular tray, about two feet in diameter, which is tossed into the air with a rotary
71
Burma
motion, so as to set all its contents spinning, the chafF being blown away while the grain falls at the operator's feet.
At every halt innumerable claims were presented by the villagers for the value of the rice consumed by the elephants on the road. In most cases these claims were for quantities far beyond the animals' power of consumption, and after a little good-humoured badinage, were easily compounded for half the original sum demanded. In one case, however, the native appeared to be quite clear as to the justice of his claim, and, scouting the idea of any compromise, exclaimed, " You may cut my throat if I am telling a lie ! "
His claim was paid in full, and I noticed that in all their dealings with them the employees of the Corporation gave the natives the benefit of the doubt, and no matter at what cost made it a matter of principle to keep faith with them.
That such an attitude is honourable and wise goes without saying, and it has its reward in the friendly relationship existing between the "jungle wallah " and his subordinates. I one day heard a native remark to a stranger, "We have to shikoh to the Government official who eats our money, but we like to shikoh to the Bombay-Burma Thakins whose money we eat," and I may say that, during the weeks I spent in riding through the forest I had frequent demonstrations of the esteem and respect in which the Corporation and their agents were held by natives of all classes.
The country through which we had passed was
72
Jungle Life at Kokogon
extremely pretty in Its general effect, — immense tracts of " paddy " land, interspersed with trees, among which were the villages of the peasants, in many cases sur- rounded by groves of bananas and other fruit-trees, while large pools, overgrown with lotus, were a common feature.
The moisture in the saturated land, sucked up by the powerful sun, filled the air with an impalpable mist which enveloped the landscape in a silver haze, and gave to its features a suggestiveness which was charm- ing. Distances which were not really great appeared to be immense, and the sun, shining through the laden atmosphere, glorified even the monotony of the rice- fields with opalescent tints, amidst which the brighdy coloured costumes of the natives shone like jewels. This silvery curtain, which lends such enchantment to the commonplace, I found to be general in the cultivated lands, and during the few hours of its continuance it seems to envelop nature in a poetic glamour diflicult to describe.
Our entrance into the forest was almost abrupt, the " paddy " land being succeeded by patches of kaing grass, bamboo, and a tangled growth of all kinds, glittering under a hot sun, which caused the steam to rise from the pools and damp patches of the paths well into the day. Some of the vistas were very lovely, the nearer points standing out strongly against a distance hazy in the hot air, through which our elephants loomed large and almost phantom-like.
Huge trees of to me as yet strange growths towered
73 10
Burma
above the undergrowth, their individual characteristics being largely lost in the profusion of creepers which enveloped them in a uniform habit of leaves and flowers, and whose sinuous stems winding through the grasses tripped up our ponies and rendered riding slow and difficult. Evidently the haunt of game, all we saw on this march were a few " gyi " or barking deer, which dashed across our path, though this forest abounds with tiger, panther, and elephant, while everywhere among the succulent undergrowth were signs of large herds of " pig."
Birds there were in plenty, miners, hoopoe, king crow, jungle fowl and owls, also a large number of paddy birds, the female of which, I noticed, is not white but parti-coloured, brown predominating, which makes her very difficult to find when nesting. Doves were cooing, and in the nyoung-bin trees the green pigeon was whistling a melody which Skeene once declared to be a few bars from The Belle of New York ! There is one bird, however, which I have met with in different parts of Burma, but whose species I have never been able to discover, whose song consists of a distinct musical phrase of several bars. He is a small bird, with a liquid note, rich and full, and his song sounds gloriously beautiful in the often solemn sur- roundings of the forest.
Squirrels were there in large numbers, disputing with the monkeys for possession of the nut-trees, while flitting across the glades flights of parrots flashed brilliant in the sunlight.
74
DAWN IN THE FOREST
Jungle Life at Kokogon
That wild animals always look their best in their natural environment is a truism which certainly applies strongly to the parrot. Seen at home as a caged bird he has little beauty, and might almost be described as a grotesque. Here, however, in these primeval forests, he is a creature of beauty and joy. Hear him whistling softly to his mate, or exchanging calls with his fellows as he sits in the topmost bough of a cotton -tree, 200 feet above ground. Every note is flute-like and coaxing, and, as his song floats downwards towards you through the sun-bathed air, each note is mellowed and sweetened on its journey. Or again, as a flock suddenly launches itself into space, and plays " follow my leader" through the tree -tops, what could be prettier than they as their orange beaks and long slender tails glint in the sunlight ! It is a revel of song and colour and pure light-heartedness foreign to their caged and subdued relatives in this country. Here a parrot is simply a curiosity, there a beautiful creature, suited to its surroundings, and bringing an air of gladness and colour into what might otherwise have been an oppressive exuberance of forest growth.
Curiously enough, there were few insects ; no doubt as the heat was intense they were lying dormant in the leafy shades. Butterflies, however, were plentiful and of great beauty.
I am afraid my recollection of this part of my journey is not very definite. Being my first intro- duction to virgin forest, I found it all so strange that I was content to wonder at its confused beauty and
75
Burma
luxuriance without attempting to make notes, mental or otherwise ; much of our attention, moreover, had to be directed to the order of our going.
Travelling in the paddy land had been difficult. Here, however, it was more so ; the open glades were often marshy, and under the powerful sun were giving up steam as late as mid-day. Riding through the thickets was almost impossible on account of the hidden creepers which made it difficult for the pony to travel, and the thorns which lacerated the rider and the beast indiscriminately, so that of two evils it was usually better to stick to the open and be grilled, than risk the difficulties and perhaps dangers of the denser forest.
Few signs of human life disturbed the solitude of these wilds. Here and there were little clearings planted in rice or sessamine, over which grotesque scarecrows stood sentinel, or perhaps an occasional hut of bamboo and grasses marked the halting-place of previous travellers ; and once I saw a boy engaged in snaring wild-fowl by the aid of a decoy cock, the modus operandi apparently being to tether the bird in a patch of short grass, where he is surrounded by a circle of snares composed of twigs, and the forest bird, re- sponding to his challenge, comes down to fight him and is caught.
Kokogon was reached at i p.m., and I must confess that I promptly went to sleep in a chair after tiffin. Burma is a sleepy country, and the siesta a general institution for both man and beast, and I always found it difficult to resist the inclination to sleep in the early
76
ON THE KYOUK-MEE-CHOUNG
Jungle Life at Kokogon
afternoon. It was only by recommencing my work directly after lunch that I was able to overcome this feeling of drowsiness, which, however, on one or two occasions completely mastered me.
Kokogon is practically the centre of a large teak forest, which was being worked by the Corporation. Their bungalow, which is some little distance from the native village, was pleasantly situated in an island of grass surrounded by dense forest and jungle, and overlooking the Kyouk-mee-choung, a forest creek or river, where a number of elephants were at work clearing a " pone " of logs brought down by the last freshet.
Behind the bungalow were storehouses, stables, and the huts of the woodmen, among which moved the wives and children of the foresters bringing in sticks, and kindling fires preparatory to cooking the evening meal. Below us, in the shade of the bungalow, our ponies were being attended to and the baggage un- loaded from the elephants.
Later in the afternoon all the elephants at work in the creek, twelve in all with three calves, came in for their evening feed : a picturesque sight, as each, mounted by its "oozi,"i came to the steps of the bungalow to " salaam," and perhaps receive a " tit-bit," before pro- ceeding to the lines where rows of buckets containing rice are waiting ready for them. After feeding, the elephants go down to the creek to bathe before being turned into the jungle for the night. Very pretty was
^ Driver.
n
Burma
the scene, as the declining sun caught the red cliffs which formed the river's banks, and lit up the mixed foliage of the forest with a ruddy light, to which the deep gloom of the shades offered a striking contrast. As the sun, red and glorious, slowly disappeared behind the trees, crickets and frogs began their evensong, while in the distance the trumpeting of an elephant, or the impatient squeal of a calf which had temporarily lost its mother, were the only sounds to break the solemn hush which comes over the forest at sun -down. Presently, as the evening breeze rustled through the tree-tops, the cry of the jackal and hoot of the owl broke the stillness, and the rising moon completed the poetic feeling of a scene which combined so much of suggestion with its solemn beauty.
Altogether the day's experience had been of extreme if somewhat bewildering interest. Many sharp contrasts had presented themselves on the way, culminating in this rich forest scenery, which as yet I had hardly begun to understand, so entirely different was it from any- thing I had hitherto seen. Beautiful but impressive, solitary yet alive, I felt that I must discover many of its secrets before I could hope to fully appreciate its fascination myself or pen an adequate description for my friends.
Darkness drove me back to the bungalow, where dinner awaited three hungry men, and a runner was preparing to start back upon his two-days' journey through the jungle, to post our letters at Taung- dwingyi.
78
ELEPHANTS CLEARING A "PONE OF LOGS AT KOKOGON
Jungle Life at Kokogon
I am often asked how we fared in the jungle. Here is our menu for this first night : —
Mulligatawny soup. Cod's roe.
Fricassee of chicken. Steak and onions, and
potatoes. Chip potatoes.
Roast chicken, bread sauce
and crumbs. Curry and rice. Cold York ham. Carlsbad plums.
We had also bread, and butter in tins (usually in a liquid state, however), and though as we travelled farther fresh provisions gave out, the thoughtfulness displayed by my friends in selecting stores, and the cleverness of our servants in contriving, provided meals as varied and generally as palatable as this one, jungle fowl or deer taking the place of chicken, and biscuits that of bread. Vegetables became a difficulty, however, for though the villagers would bring presents of fruit and eggs, we seldom got anything in the shape of green food.
While we were at dinner the men had brought in several elephant-loads of logs and lit a huge bonfire in front of the verandah, and as the nights are cold we gathered round it gratefully. In its fitful light, and surrounded by the blackness of the forest, I took my first hand at bridge, but as there were only three of us, and none of us was quite sure of the rules applying to perpetual dummy,' the game became a little confused, though it served to pass the evening very happily till our early bedtime.
The first flush of dawn found us up and preparing
79
Burma
for our day's work, the suddenness and extraordinary glory of the sunrise as it almost instantly suffused the sky denying the apparent incongruity of Kipling's line, " the dawn comes up like thunder," which I now see to aptly describe a phenomenon which is almost startling. Half an hour later every one was at work, I at my painting, the elephants and jungle wallahs with their logs.
Without wishing to attempt a long dissertation upon teak-growing or forestry generally, it will, I think, be of interest if I give a short description of the nature of the work upon which so many of our young men are engaged in the forests of Burma.
As is perhaps generally known, teak, pyingado (iron- wood tree), and several other species are " protected " by the Government, their extraction being sanctioned under certain well-defined rules. Pyingado is too heavy to be profitably worked except locally for the purpose of railway sleepers, and the attention of the great firms is entirely devoted to the extraction of teak, licenses for which are granted, and zones or " forests " allotted to them in consideration of the rather heavy royalties charged upon the logs marketed. Each of these forests is managed by a representative of the firm concerned, assisted by several subordinates who super- vise the work being carried on ; the selection of trees to be felled, however, rests entirely with the Government forest officer, and is made with proper regard to the replenishment of the forests under his control.
The trees selected are "girdled" by cutting a ring
80
Jungle Life at Kokogon
through the bark and sapwood until the hard wood is entered, the result being that, cut ofF from any supply of moisture from the roots, the tree dies, and the bark, leaves, and twigs having fallen off, the naturally seasoned tree is felled at from two to three years after girdling. The trees are reckoned first or second class trees according to their size, the former being from 6 to 7 feet and the latter about 4J feet in girth, their ages varying from 2S ^^ ^^"^ years, I believe. The teak is a handsome tree, straight- stemmed, as a rule, branching much like an acacia at about 25 or 30 feet from the ground. Its leaves are very large, shaped like an elm but smoother, and they have a purple blossom which stands up from among the foliage, remaining on the tree for a considerable time after the leaf has fallen.
After felling, the difficult work of transport begins. In many cases the logs lie in inaccessible parts of the forest, which necessitates the making of roads and building of bridges before the work of hauling can be commenced. Large numbers of elephants and bullocks are engaged in this work, and in one place at least the Corporation have a traction engine at work. In this process of transportation the forest rivers or creeks are used to the utmost, until finally some large water- way is reached by means of which the rafted logs may be floated down to the sea.^
^ I hope I am not exaggerating, but my recollection is that often as long a period as nine, or in some cases even twelve years elapses between the girdling of a tree and its final arrival at the sawmills at Rangoon.
81 n
Burma
These creeks seem to be more or less of the same character. Though there is always a little water flow- ing in the bed, it is only after rain that they can claim any title to be called rivers. Owing to the steepness of the watershed and the extraordinary amount of rainfall when it occurs, what before was a sleepy succession of pools, half stagnating in the sun, becomes almost immediately a rushing, swirling river, carrying with it tree -trunks and all kinds of forest debris. These floods are the opportunity for the "jungle wallah," who has been busily employed in teak felling and hauling in readiness for a rise. All hands are busily engaged in launching logs into the stream, along whose banks are stationed parties of men and elephants shoving off logs should they strand, and with almost superhuman efibrt and at considerable risk of life relieving a "jam," which is often caused by the falling of a forest tree where the flood has undermined the bank. It is a time of high pressure and strenuous eflbrt on the part of all engaged in the work, for these streams form the easiest, sometimes the only, means of transit, and a freshet when it occurs must be utilised to its fullest advantage. I am told that it is not in- frequent for men engaged in the teak forest to be out for two or three days continuously, the whole time working night and day under the extremest physical discomfort caused by drenching rain and smothering mud, unable for a moment to relax the closest con- centration upon work which demands the maximum of physical endurance, resourcefulness, and pluck. The
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Jungle Life at Kokogon
river falls as quickly as it rises, and leaves the logs committed to its charge stranded in piles called "pones," or perhaps in single logs dotted here and there throughout its course. These pones are usually- formed by an obstruction, such as an impeding rock, or where a log sticks upright in the muddy bed. In some cases, however, the logs are collected into a " pone " by means of a boom placed across the creek to prevent them going farther down stream. This boom is called " thittagah," which means literally " a door for logs." Such a place was Kokogon, where the elephants were engaged in hauling the collected timber up a slide of rollers on to the high bank, from where it will presendy be hauled through the forest by bullock waggon or traction engine to another and a larger stream, which will float it down to Rangoon.
Apropos of this, one of my companions had a some- what curious adventure while engaged on the work which I have been describing. He was making his way down the creek, finding such foothold as he could, and presently stood upon what he took to be the root of a tree lying on the face of the steep bank. He was much alarmed to find it move and to witness the erection of an enormous neck and head at the end farthest from him. What he had taken for a twisted tree -stem proved to be a 13-foot python, and, as he told me, he " let off a yell " and both barrels of the gun which he happened to be carrying as he jumped for the river bed. Luckily the python was killed, and he took the skin, of which he is very proud.
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I have previously remarked upon my not having seen a snake so far, but closely following upon the above adventure, one morning in going to my work I trod upon a cobra, which fortunately was more alarmed than myself and darted off at amazing speed into the thicket ; and the same evening one of our party in feeding the camp fire, picked up what he thought to be a chip, but which was nothing less than a Russell's viper, one of the most deadly snakes of Burma. Fortunately he had " caught it right," and dropped it before any harm was done.
With regard to snakes generally, I think it is unquestioned that the reptile is, in most instances, as anxious to get out of the way as the human being to avoid it. An exception, however, occurs in the case of the hamadryad or king cobra, which is aggressive. A friend of mine in the Katha district told me how, when chased by one of them, he, though an extremely athletic man, had the greatest difficulty in getting away, so rapid was its movement, and it was only by throw- ing down his gun and cartridge-bag that he was able to outdistance his pursuer.
It is interesting to watch the elephants at work ; their sagacity is remarkable, and they hardly seem to require the direction of the " oozis " who sit astride their necks, encouraging them with cries of " kolai " (brother), or repressing the refractory ones with their " choons." ^ In order to assist his driver to mount, an elephant will either kneel, or by bending the fore-leg,
^ Driving hooks. 84
A FOREST GLADE
Jungle Life at Kokogon
upon which the " oozi " steps, lift him until his seat is reached. The prettiest method, perhaps, is when the elephant, bending the head, curls up his trunk, which, together with his broad forehead, forms a simple and easy staircase for its driver. Approaching a log the elephant will look at it and touch it deprecatingly with his trunk, and, having mentally decided as to its prob- able weight, will either lift it as directed, or should he consider it too heavy, will positively decline to touch it unassisted. Very clever, too, is the manner in which they avoid obstacles, stepping over logs, chains, etc., as they go about their work. In lifting timber, both trunk and tusks are used, and it is extraordinary how they marshal and sort the logs, laying them neatly and evenly in their places, shoving with the head and rolling them over until arranged to their satisfaction ; or, when loading the trolleys, how carefully the log is laid down, and then pushed forwards or backwards until a perfect balance is obtained.
Highly intelligent animals, they are apparently docile also, except when the male goes " must," or in the case of a female with a calf. Then either is a very uncertain quantity ; the calves also are most pugnacious, even vicious, and as even a " youngster " will weigh close upon half a ton, and is quite able to squash the life out of any one, they are not to be trifled with by any means.
I was one day taking a photograph of the elephants at work at the top of the slide by which the logs were hauled from the river to the top of the bank. Wishing
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Burma
to get a good one, I was focussing carefully on the screen, my head being under the cloth ; suddenly I noticed one of the elephants becoming very rapidly larger, and at the same time heard shouts of "Look out ! " Without waiting to see what was going on, however, I snatched up my camera and dropped over the steep b^nk into the river bed below. I then dis- covered that I had been charged by one of these fond mothers, and had narrowly escaped a serious danger. The elephant in question, I afterwards learnt, had pre- viously killed two of her " oozis," and was altogether a lady to be avoided.
Generally speaking, a great attachment springs up between the elephant and his driver, who is often devoted to his charge. I heard of a case where an employer, on transferring his elephants to a new district, asked one of the drivers to leave his village and come also. " Of course," he replied, " how can I leave my elephant ; he is my father, with whom I have worked thirteen years."
On the other hand, elephants have a strong objection to ponies and Europeans, especially when approached from behind. Several times in moving through the forest I came upon our " travellers " unexpectedly, and in every case the elephant, striking his trunk upon the ground, and giving a shrill metallic cry, quite different from his ordinary trumpeting, would turn round to attack. My pony, however, was always ready, and quickly carried me out of sight among the trees.
I was rather surprised to learn how tender are
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Jungle Life at Kokogon
elephants' backs, and the greatest care must be exercised in loading up a " traveller " to ensure a perfect balance of the load, or a sore back is sure to result. Curiously- enough also, they suffer a good deal from the bites of mosquitoes and other stinging insects, and I have, on several occasions, seen the blood trickling down their corrugated and seemingly impenetrable hides from this cause.
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CHAPTER VI
THROUGH THE FOREST TO PYINMANA
During the time spent at Kokogon, I was able to familiarise myself with many forest growths, but when it is considered that there are in Burma over 1500 different species of trees alone, without regarding the lesser growths, my little knowledge was after all but a qualified ignorance, though sufficient to add greatly to the pleasure of the succeeding weeks spent in other parts of the forest.
As usual our day's march began at dawn, and owing to the difficulty of travelling through the denser portions of the forest, often continued until nightfall.
The early mornings were peculiarly lovely, fresh, even cold, with the dew hanging heavy upon spikes of grass and other vegetation, and spangling the huge cobwebs which hid among them with a weight of water I hardly thought them capable of sustaining. As we rode through the kaing grass and longer reeds, their dripping heads gave us a veritable shower-bath, and in a very short time every one was wet through.
The days were hot, the sun having a peculiar
Through the Forest to Pyinmana
potency from which even solar topees were hardly a protection, and even the weight of silk suits seemed insufferable.
Towards evening, as the air cooled and the brassy sky became soft with mellow tints, our surroundings were increasingly beautiful. Instead of the hard glitter of light on trunks and boughs, which seemed coldly white against the blackness of the shades, all the lovely tints and variations of foliage and flowers are properly appreciated.
Out of a tangled mass of creepers, palms, begonias, lilies, and a variety of other growths, spring huge cotton-trees whose straight white trunks rise loo feet or more into the air before branching into the splendid crests they carry, the pyingado, almost as high, the large-leaved teak, banyan, cutch, and indaing trees being all more or less bound together by fantastic creepers, whose tendrils droop gracefully from boughs further enriched by huge growths of orchids.
Many of the flowering plants are very lovely, includ- ing several varieties of convolvulus, blue, yellow, and white with a deep mauve centre, many of the canariensis kind, and the particularly beautiful scarlet tropaeolum. These entirely envelop the smaller jungle trees, form- ing natural arbours, which look as though they had been carefully planted and tended by gardeners.
During the day these wilds are gay with birds and the thickets are alive with game. Towards evening insect life awakes, and the shrill note of the crickets is a perpetual accompaniment to the dance of the fireflies.
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Burma
Personally I was not troubled by insects ; mosquitoes are, of course, plentiful, but they did not seem to me to be as malicious as their town cousins. With regard to the others they were more interesting than irritating, the spiders and ants alone being a source of annoyance.
The sounds of the forest are peculiar, for in addition to the gentle swish of the breeze through the boughs is the " pap-pap " of the larger leaves, and the rattle of dry bean pods as they swing, or fall from bough to bough to the undergrowth below. The rapping of woodpeckers also mingles with the croaking of tree frogs or the screech of owl or squirrel. It is all very weird, and at night to these noises are added the cry of the panther and jackal, and the shrill trumpeting of elephants.
Here and there through the forest are the graves of woodmen, marked by a little fence of twigs or a cover- ing of basket-work, — solemn resting-places, whose simple adornment is compensated by the magnificent dignity of the trees which overshadow them. At intervals are the " nat-sin " or rest-houses and pagodas of wicker-work erected by the superstitious natives in order to propitiate the spirits of the forest, in many of which are placed diminutive utensils and weapons, and offerings of food.
Giant ant-hills are frequent, and are in some instances 9 feet or more in height, but of all the curiosities of the forest the creepers interested me most. How they reach their position is often a puzzle. I noticed one of perhaps 12 or 15 inches diameter, which sprang
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Through the Forest to Pyinmana
from the root of one tree, and in one single shoot had crossed a glade of perhaps 30 yards and attached itself to the top of a tree 50 feet in height, thus forming an entirely unsupported aerial bridge.
Another curious growth, which at first I mistook for a creeper, is the Ficus religiosa or sacred banyan, more generally spoken of in Burma as the " nyaung- bin," the home of the green pigeon, who feeds upon its berries. In this case the seed has been dropped by a bird into the fork of a tree where, taking root, it sends down shoots which cling closely to the trunk until the earth is reached. From this moment these roots, as they really are, commence to grow upwards, and, swell- ing as they grow, develop into enormous encircling arms strongly resembling the tentacles of an octopus, while from above corresponding boughs mix their foliage with that of the parent tree. By degrees the original tree is entirely enveloped in an outer casing of ficus, which slowly crushes the life out of the enclosed trunk, and from its starting-point, perhaps 100 feet above ground, rears its crest as a new tree, even larger than the one which at first gave it support. In one particular case I saw that two neigh- bouring trees had been enveloped in this way, presenting the singular phenomenon of three distinct kinds of foliage springing from what appeared to be a single trunk.
When the forest indulges in freaks of this kind it is perhaps not surprising that the average "jungle wallah " gives up the puzzle ! He knows his teak, pyingado,
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Burma
eng, and cutch, and perhaps a few others whose eco- nomic properties render them of value, but the rest he is content to regard as "jungle wood " and nothing more.
Generally speaking, the forest consists of three tiers of growth, the lower consisting of scrub, grasses, bamboo, and a few small trees. Above these rise the teak, cutch, cinnamon, palms, and a few others, which are again dominated by a tier of giants, straight in the trunk and immensely tall, as though sucked up by the damp heat, the most imposing of these being the cotton-tree, whose 200 feet of trunk and crest is supported at the base by enormous buttresses, without which its spongy texture could hardly withstand the pressure of the wind. These larger trunks are generally smooth -skinned, though in many cases the bark is broken by spiral corrugations, which I observed most frequently turned in the direction of the sun's course.
As a rule, the trees are either large-leaved or feathery in their foliage. Among the first are the banyan, of which there are several varieties, teak, rubber, indaing and a variety of broad-leaved palms, while of the latter are pepper, padouk, tamarind, cutch, and several other varieties of acacia. A great many of them bear thorns, particularly the feathery species.
I often found it difficult in the deep forest to identify the foliage of any given tree, the boughs being so much intermingled, and their own foliage in many cases being so completely smothered in an enormous mass of leaf and flower of the seemingly endless variety of creepers. Orchids appear to grow on all the lofty trees,
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LOADING TEAK AT KOKOGON
Through the Forest to Pyinmana
Some bunches being large enough to fill a small cart could they be removed. Many of the forest trees flower, such as the " flame of the forest," padouk, cotton- tree, dhak, pepper, and gold mohur. Among the palms are cocoa-nut, toddy, palmyra, and areca-nut, while the lesser growths include the castor-oil, with its fleshy leaf, tree potato, plantains of many varieties, and a great many species of bamboo. I noticed many dwarf wild dates among the undergrowth, but, as one of my com- panions informed me, " there were no tame dates in the country" ! In many districts were wild pineapples, and occasionally the papaya, with its delicious fruit, from the seeds of which pepsine is made. One thing that struck me as curious in so damp a country was the almost total absence of ferns or fungi, though I later on saw many varieties of both in the forests of the Northern Shan States.
Such is a general impression of the forest through which I was travelling, but as the ground was varied by steep undulations, often rising to a considerable height, the character of its trees and growth varied considerably according to the levels.
On leaving Kokogon the first part of our journey was through forest of the rich character I have described. Crossing the creek our track lay through the teak forest, where in an open glade I had my last glimpse of elephants at work loading the logs on to trolleys, behind them rising a splendid cotton-tree smothered in creepers, and entirely dwarfing the teak and other trees which surrounded it.
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Burma
The "road," so called, was only a partly defined track, often entirely overgrown with grasses and obstructed by fallen timber and clinging vines. The ground was generally sandy, but here and there were " pockets " of clay which had not yet dried up, and were simply traps for the unwary. As our elephants had been sent on ahead, their heavy footprints, two feet in depth, furnished what I may call " stepping-stones " across the worst places, the ponies jumping from one to the other very cleverly, and so effecting a crossing where otherwise they might have been bogged. In other places the track ran up steep hill-sides, and con- sisted merely of a rut full of mud held up by the roots which traversed it, so forming an irregular kind of staircase up which our ponies had to clamber as best they could. As in many cases these " steps " were four feet or so in height, our ponies constantly slipped back upon their haunches, rendering riding extremely diffi- cult, more especially as the path was further obstructed by stumps of jungle wood, which might well have caused damage to horse or rider.
Crossing a ridge of laterite, the forest consisted entirely of in or eng trees, much like the Spanish oak in appearance ; here there was little scrub, the under- growth consisting almost entirely of lesser grasses and a few flowering plants. Descending the slope, this dry forest was succeeded by a beautiful wood, green and shady, in which were many of our own wood plants mixed with strange flowers, and which, with an occasional cotton-tree or pyingado, gave the only tropical feature
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Through the Forest to Pyinmana
to scenery which otherwise closely resembled an English coppice.
Then almost suddenly we entered what might liter- ally be described as a botanic garden. On either side of the road, here well defined, were flowers of various kinds, — blue, yellow, white, red, all growing together on a tangled mass of greenery. The lesser trees were almost covered with climbing plants, while from the highest hung festoons of creepers like garlands of green and gold. Flitting across the patches of sunlight were plumage birds, while flights of peacocks moved heavily from tree to tree.
This again was succeeded by a bamboo forest, most beautiful of all, — vista after vista, like cathedral aisles, arched by the feathery boughs of the bamboos, which sprang from a floor of almost white sand. Very solemn it was in the subdued light, for little sunlight was able to penetrate through the green vault, and the very air seemed cold and awed. Down in the deeper hollows was blackness ; up the slopes a kind of artificial half-light pervaded the network of intersecting bamboo stems, and in some places, where the foliage was a little thinner, lilies carpeted the ground. I find it impossible to describe the beauty of it all, especially where it was reflected in a forest stream, which added its quota of water plants to the already luxuriant foliage.
Water erosion hereabouts is heavy, and results in practically all the roads and bridges being carried away each monsoon, entailing a great amount of work upon the forest men to make good the damage.
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Burma
The forest is at its best during the rains. Trees and orchids are in bloom, and birds and butterflies more in evidence ; while the atmospheric effects, par- ticularly at sunset, are more striking and gorgeous in colour than at any other time of the year. Insect life, however, is apt to be inconvenient at this season, lamps and candles are put out by the white ants, while an infinite variety of flying insects render indoor life well- nigh intolerable. In the forest the roads become rivers of mud, impassable for ponies, and in which pedestrians often sink above the waist. This is a trying time for the forest men, for whom an added terror exists in the large numbers of leeches with which the mud is perme- ated, some of them being so small as to get through the eyelet-holes of one's boots, and producing irritating wounds in addition to the mud sores common to the season.-
We camped that night at a place called Hlai-bin- doung, in a small " tai " or rest-house, which consisted of three walls of bamboo matting, thatched with " thekke," and as usual raised on piles, the front of the house being entirely open to the air.
We were in rather a dense forest, composed largely of bamboo, with a pretty little stream winding through the undergrowth before us. A " snaky " place, how- ever, and I felt it necessary to station my servant behind me with a stick while I was painting in the adjacent jungle.
At nightfall the usual log fire was lit, around which we had our evening meal. Everything had been
96
A FOREST TAI
Through the Forest to Pyinmana
strange to me during the day's ride, and even the flames of our fire had a peculiarity of their own, rising in long slender tongues to a great height, and without the splutter and noise usually associated with a wood fire. Meanwhile from the forest came sounds like shot-guns being fired, but which I learned were simply caused by our elephants pulling down the bamboos in order to feed upon their green shoots, the hollow stems "going off" like pop-guns as they broke.
Like the cattle the elephants wear a " kalouk," composed of a circular drum of teak-wood, hollowed through its entire length, with two hardwood clappers suspended on the outside by a cord which runs through the clappers and bell, and is tied round the elephant's- neck. As the elephants are always turned loose at night to forage for themselves, it is only by means of the kalouk that the oozi is able to locate and capture his animal in the jungle. I am told that each driver recognises the tone of the bell his elephant wears, so that he never makes the mistake of hunting down the wrong animal. These elephant bells also serve the purpose of warding off bears, tigers, and other marauders at night. So useful in this way is the kalouk that I heard of one case where an isolated camp had been repeatedly attacked by bears, which were with some difficulty driven off, and the servants eventually adopted the habit of carrying one in their hands, which so alarmed the bears by the supposed presence of elephants that they retired from the vicinity of the camp altogether.
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Burma
I do not think I ever experienced cold to equal that of my first night in a forest " tai," As I have already- explained, one side of the building is entirely open to the air, while matting walls afford little protection against the wind ; one naturally, therefore, " turned in " in flannels with all available blankets on the bed. Sleep proved impossible, the cold was so intense ; and presently 1 was compelled to get up, add more clothing to what I already wore, and put my topcoat and any- thing in the shape of packing canvases I could find on top of the blankets, but without result. Eventually I came to the conclusion that the cold was caused by the damp exhalations from the ground, so, reversing the order of things, I placed my heavy bedding underneath me, simply wrapping myself in my ulster, after which, although I still felt the cold intensely, I was able to sleep.
At about 4.30 A.M. I was awakened by what I at first thought was a downpour of rain, but which proved to be nothing else than the heavy dew, which, collecting on the large leaves, dripped from one to the other like a thunder-shower, and was of sufl'icient volume to flow from the eaves of the rest-house in a continual stream.^
This district is very rich in game, and we found traces of sambur, gyi, leopard, tiger, and wild elephant here, also many signs of pig. Among the feathered game were jungle fowl, pheasant, partridge, wood-
^ This period of heavy dew-fall lasts about two and a half months, the " hot " weather commencing about the 1 5th of February, followed later by the monsoon rains.
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Through the Forest to Pyinmana
pigeon, wild duck, snipe, and peacock, the latter being- very good eating.
One of my friends in following up the track of a pig here eventually lost the trail in a thicket of kaing grass, so he sent his servant round it to see if the tracks came through, or if the quarry were asleep in the grass. On reaching the other side the man found a panther asleep, and, without disturbing him, came and informed his master, who promptly went in search of the bigger game. The pig, however, was now aroused and alarmed the panther just as my friend came up, and, both breaking simultaneously in opposite directions, he failed to bag either. This, with the ex-, ception of a few gyi, was all we ourselves saw in the way of game hereabouts.
All through this ride, my pony, a four-year-old,, exhibited great signs of nervousness, and I had often considerable difficulty in keeping him in hand. It was his first experience of the forest, the gloom and still- ness of which were so great that the breaking of a twig served to alarm him. He continually shied at roots or branches on the ground, and was perpetually sniffing the air or snorting at imaginary terrors. Possibly he smelt tiger or feared snakes, but whatever the cause, on one or two occasions he incontinently bolted, crashing through thorns and creepers and jamming me against tree-trunks in his flight. Twice I completely lost the track, but knowing the general direction of our march I was each time able to pick up the elephant-treads again and rejoin my party. The sensation of being
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Burma
lost, however, is not pleasant, particularly in a jungle frequented by tiger — the more so as I was entirely unarmed.
One of my friends told me how, after a similar experience, he was obliged to sleep in the open all night, and next day found himself only a mile from his camp, which through the density of the growth he had been unable to find. Fortunately he had a gun with him, and a jungle fowl supplied his evening meal, without which he would have been obliged to pass the night fasting.
Such few natives as inhabit these forests are mostly Chins, whose villages are picturesquely placed in a clearing surmounting a hillock, and surrounded by the usual stockade. The dwellings and costumes of the inhabitants are poorer than those of their Burmese neighbours, and to judge by the limited area of cultiva- tion in the vicinity of their hamlets, they would appear to live largely upon the forest.
In features they are uncomely, and they have the curious custom of still further disfiguring their women by tattooing their faces black all over immediately after marriage. This is done in order to limit the probability of other men running after their wives, and I can hardly doubt that it has the desired effect. All the older women I saw were so treated, but the younger ones are rebelling against the custom, which in many districts is beginning to die out.
Though varying from time to time in particular features, one day's journey through the forest was much
100
JUNGLE AT DELANCHOON
Through the Forest to Pyinmana
like another. Surrounded by scenes of the supremest beauty, each day's ride seemed more beautiful than the last, — a gradual crescendo of loveliness which only increased as familiarity aided appreciation, and of which no words of mine could ever give an adequate im- pression. I had never anticipated anything so com- pletely fascinating as these Burmese forests proved to be, and my lasting regret is that, owing to the diffi- culties of the way and the impossibility of keeping in touch with my baggage, I was unable to secure as many pictures as I could have wished with which to supple- ment my descriptions.
At our halting-places at night an additional touch of romance was given by the flickering light of the camp fires illuminating forest trees and the figures of those who sat around them. Here, after a hard day's ride and a well-earned meal, I was glad to lie in its warmth, acquiring information from my companions, or listen- ing to their anecdotes and tales of adventure in other parts of the country, while from the blackness of the gloom beyond came sounds which warned the traveller that a new life had awakened in the forest, the investi- gation of which it would be unwise to attempt.
On December 13 and 14 I was camped at Delanchoon, where I was for the first time partially incapacitated by fever, from which hitherto I had been remarkably free. The tai here is a Government one, and better built than the others in which I had stayed, and the additional comfort of which I appreciated under the circumstances, but unfortunately I was not
lOI
Burma ^
able to work much here, as I spent most of my time in the shelter of the house. This being a good opportunity, I took a photograph of my friends and the whole of our servants, and, as it happened, it proved my last chance of doing so. In marshalling the men I was amused by a little altercation between two of them. One was heard to say, " What nonsense is this, I am not going to be photographed," to which the other replied, " How can it be nonsense when * Master ' want it ! " and in due course he took his place with the rest.
Near by was a small village, and the natives as usual brought presents of fruit, etc., and among other items a lemur which they had caught on the way. As they are pretty little beasts, easily tamed and quickly becoming attached to their master, I would have liked to have brought this one home with me, but the diffi- culties were too great, and it was eventually sent to the little monastery attached to the village.
Here also I saw a herd of wild elephants browsing among the bamboos, but owing to the thickness of the jungle I was not able to obtain any studies of them, and it would have been most unwise to have attempted too near an approach for the purpose. As an example of the dangers of elephant-stalking I may mention the case of a servant of the Corporation who, riding a tame elephant, was with others engaged in rounding up a wild herd in the Katha district. A bull broke from the herd, and charging the ring which hemmed him in, so alarmed the elephant which our friend was riding that it turned and bolted, passing under a heavy bough
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Through the Forest to Pyinmana
which swept him off its back to the ground, where he lay with several bones broken, unable to move. He was then seized by the elephant's trunk and tossed into the air again and again, alternately crashing against the limbs of overhanging trees, or falling heavily to the earth, until he lay a bruised and broken mass, and practically lifeless. Not content with this, the bull finally lowered his head and charged his victim, but, marvellous to relate, though the elephant's tusks ploughed up deep furrows on either side of him, he was untouched by either feet or tusks, and the elephant then making off he was rescued by his friends. It seems hardly credible that he could have survived, but when I left Burma I learned that he had made considerable progress towards complete recovery.
Our next halting-place was Min-byin, the day's ride being peculiarly interesting. At first our path lay through a mixed forest of lofty trees and giant bamboo sixty feet in height. The ground was very hilly, affording alternate vistas of dark alleys of greenery interspersed with flowers, or from the hill-tops, over feathery foliage to a succession of more distant ridges. The particular charm of the ride, however, lay in the fact that for the greater part of the way we followed the windings of the Min-byin river, in which all this wealth of tropical foliage was reflected. These riparian forests are peculiarly rich, the usual growths being supplemented by many water-side plants not found on the higher levels, the foliage of which is naturally particularly fresh in colour. Owing to the steepness
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Burma
of the hills and the unusual density of the under- growth we presently took to the river, riding through the shallow water, which was seldom more than a foot in depth. These partially dry streams often form the best road for riding or walking, and from the tracks in the sandy bed the Min-byin river was evidently a high- way for carts also.
Our course was generally southerly, and the scene was extremely pretty as our trailing caravan wound along the creek, the figures standing out strongly against the water shimmering in the sunshine. Some of the bends in the river were very fine. From the farther side the forest rose in hills of deepest shade, only the edges of the trees catching the brilliant light, while from the nearer bank a spit of white sand edged with a silver streak glittered in contrast with the gloom beyond. Kingfishers flitted from bank to bank, and an occasional grey heron flew heavily away as we approached. Birds of many kinds added their brilliant colouring to that of the flowers which shone among the varied greens, while all the forest trees were full of character.
This part of my journey formed the climax to a succession of beautiful scenes, and nowhere had I seen flowers so varied or in such profusion as here.
An amusing episode occurred during this march. I was as usual loitering while adding pages to my sketch-book, and became separated from my party, and presently happened upon a native who was using a curious two -stringed bow, with which he shot clay
104
THE VILLAGE OF MIN-BYIN
^'..jrfivlfcj*
Through the Forest to Pyinmana
bullets instead of arrows. I endeavoured to make him understand that I wished to buy the weapon, but unsuccessfully ; so, rather than lose the opportunity of securing such an interesting curio, I annexed the bow, and made him follow me to Min-byin, where my friends could interpret for me. I was rather dis- concerted to find that the man had no desire to part with the bow, as well as concerned at having brought him, practically a prisoner, so far out of his way. I asked Maclennan what I should do. " Oh, keep the bow and give him two rupees and send him away," he advised. This I did, feeling rather mean about it, however, but presently the man returned bringing me a fresh supply of pellets, from which I concluded that he was after all as well pleased with the bargain as I was myself. I had to " pay my footing " with the bow, however, for on trying to use it I only succeeded in smashing the pellets against my knuckles, until I discovered that at the moment of releasing the string the left hand should be pulled sharply to the side, so allowing the bullet to pass, after which I made some fairly good practice.
Min-byin itself proved to be a very trim little village, built on the high bank overlooking the river, and surrounded by a well-built stockade of timber. Without, however, adding to descriptions which I fear may become tedious, two points of interest struck me. In the sand-banks hollows had been scooped out into which the river filtered, so giving the villagers a some- what purer water supply than the river itself afforded,
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Burma
as these streams are not only the drinking places but the bathing places also of the wild animals with which these forests teem. The other feature which I noticed was that the women engaged in cutting fuel in the woods wore upon their backs a little basket of wicker- work, which served the purpose of a pocket in which their " kukries " ^ and other impedimenta were carried. I noticed the same custom later in other places, and no doubt this is a common practice throughout the country.
This was my last day with my friends, who were obliged to return to Kokogon. To them I owe a great debt of gratitude for their kindness in organising and " personally conducting " an expedition which was to me one of absorbing interest, and I am not without the hope that at some future time I may again be able to enjoy their genial companionship on such another journey.
The following morning commenced two days of epi- sodes, some of which might have had very unpleasant results, though fortunately all went well in the end.
At dawn a travelling elephant was loaded up with my baggage and commissariat (among which was a live chicken for my dinner), and, accompanied by six servants, I left for Kyet-thoung-doung, where I pro- posed to spend the night. Among the servants who had gone on ahead were my own boy Chinnasammy, and Moung-Ba, a middle-aged Burman who had been specially attached to me as interpreter, so that when an
^ A heavy sheathed knife used as a chopper. 1 06
Through the Forest to Pyinmana
hour later I waved my last adieux to my friends and started on my journey, I was practically alone, my only companion being a small boy who acted as " syce " and guide, and with whom, owing to my ignorance of Burmese, I could not communicate, and my adventures began early.
Behind Min-byin were large paddy fields, across which my path lay, but owing to the pleasant native habit of ploughing up all tracks at sowing-time, the pathway soon vanished into nothingness, and was succeeded by a labyrinth of bunds which led nowhere, and soon caused us to become hopelessly mixed. Time and again we struck what looked like a road leading in the desired direction, but in each case it terminated in impenetrable jungle or doubled on its track.
Presently a native appeared : " Kyet-thoung-doung, eh ? " I queried. Spreading his five fingers and giving a broad sweep of his arm, he indicated about 90 degrees of horizon, so that I was not much the wiser, but knowing that it lay approximately south-east from Min-byin I struck an average, and pushed on through whatever came.
Meanwhile an hour of the cool of the day had been lost, and I was beginning to get irritated, when to my joy I heard the distant groanings of a native cart, and making in the direction of the sounds struck a road, which, however, ran at right angles to my supposed course, and the question then arose as which way to turn. With a bright smile of intelligence, my little guide indicated the left, but after some miles the road,
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Burma
which was generally down-hill and presented every conceivable kind of impediment, took a sharp turn to the north which plainly showed that we had taken the wrong turning and must retrace our steps. Riding down-hill had been bad going, but returning up-hill through tangles of weeds, over fallen timber and slippery mud -slides, was extremely vexatious both to man and beast, and when we reached our starting- point of an hour earlier we were alike tired and cross ; but our direction now proving to be the right one, I settled down more contentedly to recover by steady riding some of the time lost in our wanderings.
I have already referred to the heavy dew hanging on the undergrowth, and on this occasion I was saturated. What particularly annoyed me was the cold dripping of the moisture down my neck and spine, to avoid which I formed the habit of striking any overhanging reeds with my riding switch, so shaking off the dew- drops before meeting the boughs with my head and shoulders. Once in striking aside a bamboo shoot, which would otherwise have brushed across my face, I dislodged a vividly green snake, about two feet in length, which, protected by its colour, lay concealed among the fresh leaves. The snake, which I killed, proved to be a venomous one, and had it struck me would in all probability have put an abrupt termination to my journey ! This bamboo switch, by the way, which I had cut on my first day in the forest, was the only weapon I carried in Burma, and I keep it still as a valued memento of more than one adventure in the country.
io8
ENTRANCE TO THE VILLAGE OF K YET-THOUNG-DOUNG
Through the Forest to Pyinmana
For the rest of the day my journey was without special feature, the forest being as before grandly beau- tiful, though perhaps being alone it appeared to me more solemn and impressive than usual. Our road though rough was well defined, crossing hill and dale and through sylvan glades, in which for the first time I saw ferns, though small and of a common variety much like our polypods.
The riding, however, was by no means easy, for these forest roads are terribly bad in many places, being simply deep ruts through sand or laterite, and rough as a water-course. How it is that the native carts do not capsize is to me a mystery, one wheel being often four feet higher than the other, as the patient bullocks drag them over rocks or roots, through ruts and boggy streams with equal indiflference ! Nothing seems to come amiss to the Burmese driver, who says that wherever a pony can ride a cart can travel ! Indeed, I am not sure that they do not put it the other way, and give the cart precedence for facility of transit.
Kyet-thoung-doung was reached in the early after- noon, the tai being splendidly placed on a high bank overlooking the creek, which we had crossed several times on our way.
Here I had my second adventure of the day. While painting the entrance to the village, my " boy " came to inform me that some lads had caught a large snake by the water, and inquired if I would like to see it ? I told him to ask the boys to bring it to me, which they did, carrying it between
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Burma
bamboos. Thinking it was dead I told them to put it down until I had time to look at it, when I discovered that instead of being dead it was very much alive, and commenced to wriggle about the legs of my easel ! " Kill it," I shouted, but was informed politely that " Burmans do not kill animals," so with my servant's aid I did so myself. The snake was a very handsome one, coloured in alternate bands of coal black and laburnum yellow, with a finely marked pattern running through its scaling. In length it was just over six feet, and I have since been told that it must have been a banded kraite, a particularly deadly species. Unfor- tunately the head got badly smashed in the process of killing, which decided me not to take the skin, a decision I greatly regret, as this proved to be the only one of its kind I was to meet with.
After the pleasant evenings spent with my friends nothing could exceed the depressing loneliness of my dinner by the light of a single candle, which only served to emphasise the gloominess of my home and its sur- roundings. Letters and writing up my notes, however, passed the time till " turning in," and I may here mention the fact, and one creditable to every one con- cerned, that all my letters (which were forwarded from Rangoon) reached me safely and in order of date, the postal arrangements even in these remote wilds being so well organised.
Like the preceding one the following day was not without its adventures. During the night the sounds of wild animals were frequent, and possibly owing to
no
Through the Forest to Pyinmana
their presence my elephant had wandered far, and, having lost his kalouk, could not be found by his oozi. However, I decided to start for Lewe, where I was to lunch, leaving the servants to load up and follow when the elephant was caught. Accompanied by my little Burman boy I started early as usual, and crossing the creek plunged into a long stretch of jungle, from which during the previous night the roaring of " bad animals " (as my boy put it) had emanated. After a short time my pony began to fidget, and I became con-^ scious of the fact that I was being followed, stealthily but unmistakably, by some beast which the long grasses hid from view. As I was unarmed, the position was distinctly unpleasant, while the thickness of the growth impeded the pony greatly, and we could only proceed at walking pace. This continued for about half an hour, when, the grass coming to an end, I told my boy to hang on, and giving my pony his head "let him go " through the fairly open forest which succeeded it. Whether the animal was a tiger or a leopard I do not know, but the following night a native went down to the creek to sharpen his " dah " and never returned, though the pugs of a tiger on the sand showed what had been his fate, and possibly decided the identity of my " follower " of the previous morning.
This beginning not unnaturally got on our nerves, the pony being perhaps the most upset, and for the rest of the day he was in a state of fidget and excite- ment. Soon we entered a portion of the forest, deeper, darker, and more solemn than anything I have described.
Ill
Burma
Down dark valleys whose end was blackness, or climb- ing hill-sides where the glinting sunlight penetrated in patches which intensified the surrounding gloom, it was an eerie ride, rendered more so by the abnormal silence which pervaded it. The air was cold, damp, and heavy, and not a leaf stirred on the shrubs which hid the base of trees whose lofty trunks vanished into a dark vault of foliage. " The valley of the shadow of death," was my mental comment, and my pony's ears lying flat on his outstretched neck, together with his furtive glances and little snorts of fear, showed that I was not alone in feel- ing the awe of the place ; even the boy, always light- hearted and smiling, looked subdued and frightened.
Then an absurdity happened. Wrapped in this sense of loneliness and oppression, we were slowly making our way down a long aisle closely hemmed in by trees, when suddenly, close by my elbow, a shrill cry broke the silence and the spell which seemed to bind us. I had just time to notice that it was only a squirrel scolding at our intrusion as my pony bolted for the forest, and, crashing and plunging over and through everything, jamming me up against tree- trunks or half-strangling me in thorny creepers, placed my limbs if not my life in greater jeopardy than they had ever been before or since !
This excitement served to shake off our lethargy, and the rest of the journey being fairly easy going, we reached Lewe at mid-day, tired and ready for tiffin.
The dak here is a Government one and very com- fortably furnished, and the kansammah in charge came
112
IN FOREST DEPTHS
Through the Forest to Pyinmana
to " salaam," at the same time pouring out a volume of Hindustani of which neither I nor my syce could understand a word. The man appeared to think me very stupid, as indeed I felt, and repeated his statement several times and evidently in different ways, in a vain attempt to reach my understanding. Finally he gave it up and retired to his own quarters, with a grunt of disapproval.
The position was very ridiculous. I wanted my bath, likewise my tiffin, but as we had no common means of communication, I was compelled to possess my soul in patience pending the arrival of my servants and baggage. Hot and tired, how I longed for a whisky -and -soda, and as the hours passed hunger knawed at me also, and it was not until 4 p.m., ten hours after my chota hazri, that my belated caravan arrived bringing the comforts I was now almost past enjoying. The delay, it appeared, had been caused by the difficulty of capturing the strayed elephant, but this experience taught me never again to go in advance of my commissariat department.
I had still ten miles to ride to Pyinmana, the road being an excellent one from this point, wide, properly metalled, and shaded by trees, and after a very pleasant ride in the cool of the evening, I shortly after dark reached the ever-hospitable bungalow of the Bombay- Burma Trading Corporation.
So ended my ride of over 120 miles from the Irrawaddy to the valley of the Sittang, through scenes which I have no hesitation in describing as the most
113 15
Burma
beautiful I had ever seen, and the recollection of which will always remain with me as a fascinating dream. One or two regrets there are, however, connected with it. I cannot help feeling how enormously the pleasure and interest of the journey would have been enhanced had I possessed even a moderate knowledge of botany or forestry, whose puzzling problems and beautiful growths perpetually tantalised me in my ignorance. Again, should I ever have the good fortune to revisit these forests, a collector's gun and entomological outfit will form important items in my equipment. The large game I do not so much regret, — this is a sport incompatible with the work I had to do, though any " shikarri " would find ample recompense here. But my greatest regret of all is that circumstances so often prohibited my securing sketches of spots of superlative beauty, but which in many cases would have involved a longer halt than was possible, even if conditions of climate and situation made such a course advisable. As it is, I must put these regrets aside, and be thankful to have even seen the beauties I have so inadequately described. Of Pyinmana I can say little, my stay there having been of too short duration to enable me to speak with any conviction, and unfortunately the only sketches I was able to make suffered accidents which have made their reproduction impossible without repainting, which I have not yet had time to do. It is a pretty spot, however, the views from the bungalow and the little club being charming, and its pagodas and bazaars have many features of special interest.
114
Through the Forest to Pyinmana
It was always my hope to revisit Pyinmana and renew acquaintance with the friends I made there, as well as record some at least of its most characteristic scenes, but this, like many other of my plans, pressure of time compelled me to abandon.
115
CHAPTER VII
ONE THOUSAND MILES UP THE IRRAWADDY (RANGOON TO PROMe)
In response to urgent invitations, I returned to Rangoon for Christmas week, always a period of social activity, and one in which every one seems to outvie the other in hospitality.
On Christmas Day, for instance, I breakfasted with one friend, lunched with another, spent the afternoon at a garden party, and after a brief visit to the Gymkhana Club, went to a dinner party at 8 o'clock. After dinner was a performance of pierrots and minstrels at the Assembly Rooms, followed by a supper at the Pegu Club ! This perhaps was the busiest day of the week, but all were more or less on the same lines, and a few days sufficed to exhaust me, especially after the simple life and early hours of the jungle. I, therefore, decided to limit my stay in Rangoon, and start up the river immediately.
I can imagine no greater contrast to the rough and ready life of the forest or the exuberance of Rangoon than the quiet comfort of a journey up the
ii6
Rangoon to Prome
Irrawaddy in one of the fine steamers of the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company. The fleet is a large one, consisting of mail boats, cargo steamers, and ferries, each having good cabin accommodation, and excellent table and attendance ; even the ferry boats, on which one seldom requires to pass more than a night, are good in this respect, while the mail steamers are as comfortable as any on the Nile, one in which I travelled even pro- viding a billiard table for its passengers !
As I have frequently heard it suggested that passengers up the Irrawaddy are obliged to undergo considerable discomfort, and are carried up in some- thing in the nature of a barge, it may be a surprise to many to know that the mail steamers, as a rule, measure about 325 feet in length, with a breadth over sponsons of 76 feet ; that their tonnage is between 1200 and 1350, and they carry anything up to 2500 passengers, having a speed of about 14 knots.
As, however, travellers are yet few in Burma, the greater portion of space in these steamers is given up to cargo and deck passengers. The cabins are placed on the upper deck, forward of the engines, and in the extreme bow is a promenade deck, where meals are served, and where you can enjoy both the scenery and the breeze, and I may add that in the captains of the steamers in which I sailed I found not only genial companions but a source of valuable information, which I greatly appreciated.
Almost without exception my Rangoon friends advised me not to make the whole journey by water,
117
Burma
but by taking the train to Prome avoid some 300 miles of river and creek, which they assured me was without interest. As it was my desire to see the whole navigable length of the Irrawaddy, I fortunately decided against this advice, and found that the lower river was as interesting as anything higher up, though in a different way.
The branch of the river which connects Rangoon with the Irrawaddy proper is no longer navigable, and steamers, therefore, are obliged to drop down stream some fifteen miles and, by way of the Bassein creek, eventually reach the main river at a point called " the hole in the wall," from which a glimpse of the sea is obtainable.
All this is of course tidal water, and very muddy, and at high water the low-lying land is almost entirely submerged. The scenery is generally quiet, the narrow waterway being fringed with mango-trees and dwarf wild -dates, whose foliage has a peculiar sickly tint due, no doubt, to the constant saturation to which they are subjected. Every here and there is a hut, or little settlement of bamboo dwellings, built partly on the bank and pardy over the water, the homes of fishermen who, half naked, paddle about in dug-out canoes, and whose nets, hung over bamboo frames, are drying in the breeze.
Branching right and left from the river are creeks which intersect the Delta in all directions, cutting up the land into islands of greater or less area, between which communication is quite impossible except by
118
ON THE BASSEIN CREEK
Rangoon to Prome
means of boats. Some of these islands are under cultivation, but the greater part are covered with jungle and abound in game of all kinds, including tigers. Indeed, I am told that in some places tigers are so numerous as to render landing dangerous.
On what may be called the mainland, however, are enormous tracts of land under rice cultivation, and I believe that these districts produce a large proportion of the total paddy crop of Burma.
Our first stopping - place was Dedaye, a village of amphibious habits, nestling in tropical foliage, amongst which I noticed for the first time the slender stems and graceful crest of the betel-palm.
On the banks were a number of boats, building or undergoing repairs, and waiting for the next monsoon floods to float them off. All these boats were of the typical Burman build, with high sterns and up-tilted bows, and with nicely flowing lines throughout. Even the little dug-out is pretty, both stern and forefoot rising clear of the water in a slight curve which gives an element of beauty to what would otherwise be simply a straight log.
Afloat, these boats, deeply laden with paddy for the Rangoon mills, are extremely graceful, and as their crews of perhaps fourteen or sixteen rowers bend their backs to the long sweeps they use, they unconsciously bring to mind the galleys of ancient Rome, and impress as much by their dignity as by the beauty of their sweeping lines.
In marked contrast are the Chinese boats, which are
119
Burma
utilitarian to the exclusion of all other considerations, while others, equally uninteresting, are manned by Indian coolies, who, with spoon-shaped oars, paddle in an inefficient and hesitating manner most irritating to a waterman.
Returning " laung-zats " and " peingaws " having discharged their cargoes, speed upstream before a breeze which cools the air and breaks the river into wavelets. Under sail the rig of these boats is peculiar. The mast is formed of two bamboos, stepped at the gunwale almost amidships, which, inclining inwards, are bound together at the head, while battens of wood lashed across them form a ladder which takes the place of shrouds and ratlines. An enormous yard, also of bamboo, and which bends upwards on each side from the mast, serves to carry four or more square-cut sails of cotton cloth, some of which are embroidered at the edges, and which can be taken in one by one, according to the strength of the breeze. Above are top-sails spread by a multitude of cords stiffened by two upright bamboos lashed to the yard. The whole forms a confusing net-work of ropes and spars, and, though picturesque enough, I do not think I have ever seen any vessels rigged in a more unpractical manner.
The fact is that the Burmans are no sailors, and their beautiful boats are better adapted for drifting or rowing than for sailing. The sails, which are badly cut and trimmed, can only be used before the wind, and are of no use at all for reaching or beating to wind- ward. The Chinese and other boats almost invariably
120
;■ H riv.
UPSTREAM WITH THE WIND
r»*-
!!•**!:
Rangoon to Prome
carry a square sail set as a lug, which, though non- pictorial, being dyed red with cutch, supplies a valuable note of colour among so much greenery.
Ascending the river the land gradually becomes firmer and the banks higher, though still but little raised above high -water mark. Not so completely saturated as the swamp land lower down, the growth on the banks gradually undergoes a change, the mango giving place to the tamarind and banyan, while near the villages, such as Maubin, the cool green of the banana groves mingles pleasantly with the more robust foliage of forest trees.
This district is naturally much infested with mos- quitoes, which at Maubin I am told exist in such numbers that even the ponies in their stables have to be protected by " meat cages " ! Recently, however, the jungle on the opposite side of the river has been cut down and fired, resulting in a very considerable diminution of the plague. Our steamer moored here for the night, and though the deck and cabin lights attracted enormous numbers of moths and flying insects of all kinds, I do not remember that mosquitoes were particularly numerous, and certainly they caused me little or no inconvenience.
I see from my notes that we left Maubin at 6 a.m. on New Year's morning ; it was beautifully bright but cold, and a soft purple haze hung upon the horizon, through which sunlit trees and gilded pagodas shone. The limpid water reflecting the clear blue overhead acquired that curious colour termed " eau-de-nil," and
121 i6
Burma
which one associates peculiarly with Egypt. As the day advanced the heat of the sun made itself felt, and the glare on the water seemed to justify the smoked glasses which the captain and most of the passengers affected. By 10.30 we had reached Yandoon, which is the Irrawaddy end of the creek, which lower down is termed the " Rangoon river." This is a prosperous market town, a very large number of native boats lying up against the river bank, while the smell of " ngapi," ^ which is made here, filled the air. In strolling round the village I was escorted by all the gamins from the streets, who displayed a good-humoured and at the same time well-behaved interest in my, to them, eccentric curiosity with regard to domestic incident.
The village was a good type of a flourishing Burmese centre ; the people, on the whole, seemed prosperous, and the houses were generally well built, and as, in addition to their trade in paddy, Yandoon is one of the few places in Burma where ngapi is manufactured (an article in universal consumption), I have no doubt the villagers are extremely well-to-do. In some respects, moreover, they are quite up to date, many articles exposed for sale in the shops being of the latest European pattern, while in one hut I noticed a middle-aged woman, a huge cigar stuck perkily in the corner of her mouth, busy pedalling away at a sewing machine stitching up a lungyi.
Time did not permit of my making any sketches of Yandoon, as the steamer's stay here was of a very short
^ Partially cured and salted fish. 122
Rangoon to Prome
duration, and indeed, though there are a good many cocoanut-palms and mimosa-trees scattered through its streets, it is not so intrinsically pictorial as many other villages I have visited.
Behind the town were immense tracts of paddy land, and every here and there was a raised platform for the use of men and boys engaged in the scaring of birds in harvest time. I was sorry to notice one fact which became increasingly apparent as we proceeded up- stream, which was the substitution of galvanised iron roofing for the more picturesque "thekke," and the use of kerosene tins in place of the beautiful water chatties of native manufacture.
On rejoining the steamer all the small fry of the village who had been my companions on my tour of investigation assembled on the bank to give me a parting salute, some running down the steep incline and plunging into the water, in which they disport themselves like fish.
To me the main interest in Yandoon was centred in the native craft moored along its banks, whose quaint beauty seems to increase the more one sees of them, their extraordinarily high sterns becoming quite a fas- cination. Many of these structures, already rich with carving, are still further ornamented by projecting sticks on which are stuck inverted soda-water bottles, which glitter in the sunshine. I am told that the rowers frequently have beside them piles of bottles to be used as weapons in case of dacoity, a not unusual occurrence ; and as the use of firearms is forbidden to
123
Burma
the natives, these bottles serve as a very effective means of defence.
The river here is wide, the banks on either side being low and, generally speaking, heavily clothed with foliage. The scenery is simple in character, consisting generally of a succession of pretty " bits " of con- siderable pictorial value. Here, for instance, crowning a bank of peculiarly soft colouring and texture, is an enormous banyan-tree shading a number of thatched buildings, from amongst which rises a " tagundaing " with its streamer, which marks a shrine. A short distance from it a lofty toddy -palm rises from a mulberry plantation, while close down to the water's edge are a couple of " laung-zats," undergoing repairs at the builders' hands. A simple enough scene, but one in which the beautifully contrasting foliage and local colour, perfectly repeated in the water below, combine to form a picture of great beauty. Indeed, some of these water-side bits are extremely pretty, the different builds and rigs of the boats, the great variety of tropical foliage, and the occasional pagodas or monasteries giving to each its distinctive character ; and in all cases additional beauty is derived from the reflection in the water, which, due to its opacity, almost perfectly repeats the life it carries and the picturesque banks which confine it.
During the day Donabyu was reached, the scene of the fight with Bandoola in the first Burmese war, but now largely given up to the manufacture of cheroots, which has become an industry here. In fact, of all
124
ON THE LOWER IRRAWADDY
Rangoon to Prome
Burman cheroots those from Donabyu are considered the best and command the highest prices. They are made and the trade entirely conducted by women, but unfortunately it is difficult to ensure the same quality for any length of time from any given maker, for no sooner does the lady proprietress of a cigar manufactory gather a good clientele about her than she either lowers the quality of her cigars, or sells the business as a going concern to some one else, and starts again in opposition !
Henzada was reached after nightfall, the last two hours of our journey being accomplished by means of the electric search-light. The effect of this was very curious when turned upon the banks, the trees appear- ing to be quite flat, like the wings in a theatre, throw- ing crisp black shadows upon those beyond in strong contrast with the glowing silver of the illuminated portions. In the band of light which traversed the darkness between the steamer and the shore swarmed thousands of insects, and, as corners in the river were rounded, or the light thrown upon the bank whereon a village stood, all the youngsters of the place would rush pell-mell down the banks to gambol in its weird illumination.
The following morning, having passed the last of the creeks through which the Irrawaddy finds the sea, we entered the undivided water which, coming from an unknown source, is navigable for large steamers for looo miles of its length. In many respects the river is like the Nile — its banks are the same high mud walls,
125
Burma
cut into terraces by the scour of the water, and crowned with foliage and native villages, and in its flow it has the same oily swirl we know so well in Egypt. The colouring of sky and water is also much the same, the chief points of difference being in the build of the boats and the nature of the vegetation on its banks. On the other hand, the shores of the lower Irrawaddy are not so full of incident as in the case of the Nile. The people do not throng the watering-places as in Egypt, and the absence of cattle on its banks is noticeable. I was rather struck, however, near Myanaung to notice an implement for water-raising almost identical with the " shadoof" of Egypt. This consists of long bamboo arms, erected on a high staging, working on a swivel, and from which depend buckets and ropes with which the water is raised for the cultivation of betel in the farms behind, the raised water being emptied into troughs of split bamboo, which serve as conduit pipes. These are called, I believe, in Burmese " moung-le."
Myanaung is a pretty village, having a village green and a very handsome group of pagodas, which by the way are kept in excellent repair. Close by this principal group, however, is a ruined pagoda, so entirely encircled by ficus that it is difficult to discover that it is not simply a huge tree, and it is only in the dry season when the leaves have fallen that any signs of the masonry of the pagoda are visible.
I found here that there was an English school- master, and many of the native children are learning to speak English, and, unfortunately, to adopt our
126
Rangoon to Prome
clothing. I met some boys idling on the green, and asked them why they were not playing football or some other game. Their reply was, " Oh ! this is a holiday." I could not help speculating as to the future of these little prigs ; superior to their parents in education, will they grow up as Burmans, or develop into those swaggering nondescripts now, alas, so often met with in the larger towns in Burma ^
So far the river has been tidal, and the scenery quietly tropical in character. After the second day, however, the aspect of the river changes somewhat, and from the west bank rise hills of gradually increasing height, the beginning of the Arracan Yomas.
Some little distance above Myanaung occurs an interesting feature in Gaudama Hill. This is a cliff which rises from the water's edge to a height of perhaps 150 feet, the whole surface of which is carved into niches containing reclining or seated Buddhas, while many other panels depict incidents of his life. Many of these are gilt, others whitewashed, but the whole effect of the cliff, partially screened as it is by feathery tree-tops and hanging creepers, is striking and curious. Unfortunately the steamers do not stop here, and tourists have