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Leaving Luang
Prabang
The week previous
to our leaving Luang Phrabang it had been raining very heavily.
The Nam Pa was flooded, and not easily forded, so that the
little Kamuk coolies had difficulty in crossing over. I made
them all join hands and ford the river at one of the rapids, the
water being chest-high. The force of the stream was great and all
the baggage got wet. The only things kept dry were the intruments,
which were carried on the heads of the men, other men holding them
in their place. Our route lay along the same path that Phya Pichai
had followed with a couple of thousand men to Tung Chieng Kumm
some years previously. The path is exactly as it was then, and follows
the wandering course of the Me Pa, which has on each side
picturesque limestone cliffs. The scery is very beautiful, but the
constant crossing of the Me Pa (one march invloving over
thirty) detract somewhat from the pleasure of observation.
The path led
over a mountain called Pu Hong, which was cleared, and on
which were left two signal trees, besides a alrge basket signal
which will last for years. The tops of all the high mountains were
enveloped in clouds until the afternoon, on which account they did
not impress one as being desirable places for habitation. When the
hill was cleared we found that we had somewhat over-shot the mark
and had to retrace our steps and ascend a hill called Pa Kai
Taw, which blocked the view. The hill gave a great deal more
touble than, judging from its appearance, we anticipated that it
would. Very rough limestone crags were cropping out above the surface
in all directions, and water was very scarce. Our Meo guide
was not at a loss for a drink, he cut a bamboo, and with a hollow
reed sucked out the water, he then turned the bamboo into a pipe
and, while resting, enjoyed his smoke also. On the top of the hill
were very large trees which were not easily cut down, on account
of the difficulty of getting a footing among the crags. A not uncommon
characteristic of these countries is that bamboos, plaintain, and
oaks grow together. One redeeming feature was that wild cattle and
pigs seemed plentiful, and also the beautiful silver pheasants.
After finishing
the work on this peak we returned to Pu Hong, and then went
on to M. Yiw in the valley of the Nam Kan. A hill
was cleared and interpolated and the position of M. Yiw determined
through it. The route leads through the Nam Kan, a very unhealthy
valley; at last we ascend Pa Ting, and everything changes:
atmosphere, vegetation, and scenery. Passing through a group of
cedars one gets glimpses of a beautiful undulating open country;
and we encamp near an old wat, rifled long ago by the Haw,
in a very pretty locality. We are now in the beautiful district
of Puann. Having been here before I was prepared for the
loveliness of the country; but one is glad to leave off plodding
through uninteresting jungle. Unconsciously one steps forward with
a more elastic tread, although barefooted. The path winds over gently
sloping hills covered with long-leaved pines, through whose branches
the wind whistles pleasantly, while the ground is covered with most
beautiful flowers. One feels many years younger, the surroundings
influencing the feelings. At no place are we less than three thousand
feet above sea-level, and the exhilarating climate has a beneficial
effect on everything. The abandoned fields, with the waving white
tops of the grass, look as though still cared for, the gently sloping
hills without a tree, except a few groves here and there, are clothed
with a soft grass, which in the light of the setting sun looks like
purple and gold.
Sometimes one
sinks knee-deep in bog, and then one regrets the absence of population
in what once must have been a largely peopled region; the path while
meandering in the vicinity of a brook that from neglect has become
choked, crosses some marshy places.
We are making
for a fine peak, Pu Sunn, at the foot of which are several
small villages lying amidst many acres of rice-fields; and now we
come across the curse of Siamese administration. Half a dozen
irresponsible servants of the not too-wise sub-Commissioner
of Chieng Kawng, are careering on ponies from village to
village unnecessarily harassing the inhabitants. On leaving the
administration of Luang Phrabang, it is as though we were
entering a country with a people of entirely different customs;
there all was order and discipline; here all is confusion, and everybody
acts on his own responsibility. It is very difficult sometimes to
follow the drift of methods of government. Some Siamese are
ultra-Darwinists, and consider that so strong is the association
between brutes and men, that the same treatment should be given
to arrive at similar results. When elephants are captured, a method
of training them is first of all to employ elephants and men to
goad them to madness. Presently, however, the man directing the
proceedings comes to the assistance of the elephant, drives off
his tormentors, and offers him sugar-cane. So with men, he who has
been directing some leader begins by inflicting countless evils,
and afterwards comes forward as a liberator and dispenses sugar-cane.
We pitched
our tents in the wat grounds of Lao Pon Tawng, and were waited
upon by the sub-Commissioner's servants, who pretended they
did not know who we were nor what was our business. Each one gave
himself a title, and demanded to know the reason of our coming.
I asked for their authority to put these questions, and they replied
that their persons were as good as letters. I showed them the Kra,
and they wished to take it to the sub-Commissioner, to which
I readily agreed, as I had other copies. I then asked for an explanation
why they had threatened the men whom I had sent to look after the
rice-store, and then sent one of them to tell me they would not
allow me to come. This they denied having done. I was prepared for
all this tomfoolery, and thanks to the Commissioner of Luang
Phrabang, was independent of any assistance from the district,
until such time as they should get orders from Prince Phrachak,
the Royal High Commissioner of Nawng Kai .
We ascended
Pu Sunn, on the 22nd of November had as clear a day
as possible. The previous day there had been rain, and after it
the atmosphere was beautifully clear. With the telescope of a Traughton
and Simm's 8-inch theodolite I was able to distinquish our
basket signals on Pu Nang Wang and Pu Sang Nam, each
distance being over one hundred miles. The basket signals are the
same pattern as those made by Colonel Woodtrope during his
explorations of the wilder parts of Assam. They are made
of split bamboo, oval inshape, with the white side out, and when
new, however dark the background, can be readily distinguished on
a sunny day at great distances. From the top of the hill-which is
of granite, a peculiar feature of the main watershed in these parts-there
is a magnificent view of the greater and most beautiful part of
the Puann plateau.
No words can
depict the beauty of the scene. The country lies unfolded before
one, and it appears as though there were waving corn-fields, orchards
and gardens, with numerous streams meandering through them, now
hidden in the shady recesses, again appearing as streaks of silver
to be again lost in the distant mountains, thickly clothed to the
top by forest trees. There are grassy and treeless slopes with their
paths at such regular intervals of from three to four feet as to
suggest the laying out of contour lines; but it is not so, they
merely indicate the thousands of herds of cattle that grazed over
the plateau in the days of its prosperity, up to the jagged yet
well defined line of virgin-forest, which seems as though some forest
laws had said, "Thus far and no further."
From Pu
Sunn, which is a sentinel on the north-east of the plateau,
a view of not less than one thousand square miles of the plateau
is obtained. Close by to the east is Pu Sunn Nawi, a flattopped,
well-wooded and well-watered hill, which would make an excellent
sanitarium. It shuts out the view of the fields of Tung Chieng
Kumm, where the Siamese lost a number of men before they
drove the Haw from the stockade. Two excellent signal trees
were left standing and a huge basket signal. Not far from Lao
Pong Tawng is Ban Mawn, where there are extensive iron
mines, the iron being of excellent quality; the knives and axes
made from it have a great reputation all over Siam.
We encamped
near an old wat of Wieng Kat. Near this place are the tracings
of gold-washings, and judging from the heaps of refuse there must
have been a considerable amount of gold. Some future day a gold
reef may be discovered, and what a magnificent climate would this
be to have a gold-mine in. The wats and pagodas have been, if anything,
rifled more since I last saw them, and I suspect that to re-establish
Buddhism, as it once was, and it certainly flourished greatly,
would be impossible. The wats are interesting from the outside;
the architecture, while similar to that seen throughout Siam,
is more delicate and refined; the doors are in most cases richly
enamelled, but the interiors of all have been thoroughly plundered.
In a number of wats large copper figures of Budda lie on
their sides, the pedestals on which they stand having been searched
for treasure.
We ascended
Pu Ke, near the top of which was a thriving settlement of
Meo, a busy people, whom it is always a pleasure to meet.
From the top
of Pu Ke, in the early morning of the 26th of November,
there was a beautiful sight tobe seen. The snow-white clouds lay
banked up to a line of six thousand feet above the sea-level, only
those peaks above this line shooting up into the beautiful clear
sky. They had the appearance of island-peaks springing from a sea
of snowy whiteness. Below Pu Ke and to the east of it, is
the Nam Nia. Here the cluouds rushed along appparently with
the river, and at one particular place there was the appearance
of a fall, the clouds lost their evenness and resembled huge bales
of cotton tumbling silently along. While observing these scenes,
one unconciously listened for the roar of a torrent, but all was
still. The great snow-like plain was perceptibly lowering its level
until the sun began to assert itself, when all the clouds rose in
a confused mass. It is very painful to find that all my old Puann
friends are dead. I had hoped to meet those who gave me assistance
at considerable risk to themselves when I was last here. They were
good and true, and the best men up here, and no one could be more
useful to any one anxious to administer the districts on lines of
justice. But they are dead, and their lives form one more item in
a long procession of golden opportunities that have been wasted
and lost.
Leaving the
hill and the friendly Meo, we went to Chieng Kawng,
where we had some difficulty in getting rice, which was doled out
in baskets, to tire one's patience, and which had seals on to impress
others of the accuracy of the measurements, although I found them
to be less by exactly onehalf than the quantities given at M.
Yiw. The sub-Commissioner had about twelve excellent
ponies, all that remained of the many hundreds of a famous breed
that swarmed over Puann.
Our object
was to get to Pu Sao , a high mountain to the south-east,
and as there was no chance of assistance, but rather of every possible
obstruction, we hurried on. My guide had a very ingenious means
of striking a light. I though he was using a pop-gun. In fact, his
instrument resembled one very much with one end closed: it was made
of horn. At the end of the ramrod, which fitted perfectly and was
quite air-tight, there was a hollow into which touch-wood was inserted.
With a sharp motion the ramrod was rammed home, twisted, and extracted,
and the touch-wood was found to be ignited. There were numbers of
traps for snaring pheasants, which were very plentiful, as also
were partridges and several varieties of grouse. There were traces
of elephants, and we disturbed a bear near the top of the hill.
The constant
fog was a great difficulty, as we could not see in what direction
to go, and even the occasional glimpses through the high trees was
denied us; at last we got to the top, which is 8,614 feet above
sea-level. There are a number of rhododendrons with twisted trunks
and bent oaks, showing the prevalence of strong winds. The moss
on the top of the hill was a couple of feet think. I do not think
there is any pleasure equal to having got to the top of a hill one
is working for, and if from it a grand view is to be had and the
weather is exhilarating, it is the next best thing to having wings.
The morning
of the 8th of December was clear and sharp, the sun shone
brightly, the temperature was 40 F., and there was a hoar-frost
on the ground. The blue outline of mountains, far away beyond the
extensive plains in the valley of the Nam Kawng, was distinguishable,
while the water of the Nam Kawng itself flashed brightly
to mark its presence. Smiles erected a basket signal as large as
one of the two signal trees, and we turned our attention to Pu
Bia, the highest of all the peaks. To judge by sight, a hard
task was before us, as it seemed surrounded with sharp pinnacles
of lime-rock, which would render the ascent very difficult. Fortunately,
we had one or two men with a fair knowledge of the country, and
they proposed we should commence operations from a deserted town,
M. Cha, which was the south. Any proposal seemed preferable
to attacking the peak from the direction in which we were. We retraced
our steps accordingly, and followed the main road that goes from
Chieng Kawng to the Nam Kawng, and at Ban Na Luang
struck off from M. Awm, an excellent position, with extensive
fields that were once cultivated. Here we rested a day, and distributed
tobacco, salt, and chillies to our transport coolies, to prepare
them for the climb.
Leaving M.
Awm we came to the deserted site of M. Cha, the appearance
of the fields showed that many a long day had passed since they
were cultivated. The place has a reputation of once having been
the grazing-ground for an excellent breed of ponies. We pushed on
to the Meo village at the foot of the limestone cliffs. The
village was a large one and seemed thriving. Formerly it occupied
a lower position, but during a season of heavy rains it was flooded,
and the inhabitants moved to higher ground.
With a Meo
guide we ascended the peak and slept on the side of the slope. Early
next morning we were on the move, and were much surprised that where
the ground had been sodden it had frozen, and near the top we were
pleasantly surprised to find a small pool of water quite frozen,
the ice being a quarter of an inch thick. The little coolies were
much amused with it, and each one set to munching a piece of ice.
The actual top of the hill was a cap of clay-slate surmounting limestone,
and the trees were all very plentiful, and arrangements were immediately
made for running up small huts for the men: with a thick layer of
moss they were quite snug.
Like most hill-tribes,
the Kamuks wear as little clothing as possible, sometimes
merely a piece of cloth scarcely large enough for its purposes,
and under no circumstances sufficient to keep out the cold. It was
always a mystery to me how the Abors lived near the snows
on the upper waters of the Subansiri of Assam, since their
dress, or rather undress, was of pretty much the same fashion. The
peak was surrounded by gigantic limestone cliffs where the eagles
built their eyries. The approaches from the north and east were
entirely out of the question.
The night of
December 20th, 1892, was very clear, and early next morning
the thermometer registered 27 degree F. Ice had formed above a quarter
of an inch in thicknes, and the cook who had been busy collecting
it was very much srprised to find that when melted it was already
the colour of the coffee he intended making. There was some difficulty
about water, as it could be procured only from a ditch, but the
inconvnience, lasting only for a few days, was nothing serious.
The whole night of the 21th a high wind was howling, but the thermometer
did not fall to freezing-point, and in the morning it was 37 degree.
The night of the 22nd we had ice again, and on the 23rd, after erecting
a signal, we left the hill, having had a most satisfactory time
on it, some parts of the Me Kawng being visible. The height
of Pu Bia is 9,355 fett, and it must hold the first place
among the mountains south of the parallel of 23 degree. I would
have said in Indo-China, but I am not aware that its geographical
limits have as yet been decided upon. The highest mountain in the
Malay Peninsula is under nine thousand feet, though there
are some who assign to it a height of twelve thousand.
We returned
to the site of the old Meo village at the foot of the hill,
and as all our supplies were pretty well exhausted, we were glad
to get from the Meo a quantity of Indian cornflower,
fresh vegetables, molases, and ginger. From this last the cook made
a decoction which was not a bad substitute for tea or coffee; the
molasses was boiled, and a couple of eggs broken upon it. In this
way the dirt, of which there was as much as the sugar, was skimmed
off, and we had some excellent treacle. We became great friends
with the Meo, and as they wanted to buy cattle, they wished
to accompany us to Ban Ton Hak , the governors of which place
were in trouble owing to a dispute with the Kamuks of M. Pa
as to the ownership of the bee-hives which abounded on the limestone
cliffs, and from which large quantities of wax were collected.
We left the
Nam Mo, a large tributary of the Nam Ngum, but without
villages on its banks, and came to the villages of Na Luang.
The houses, which seemed substantially built, were abandoned, the
people having one elsewwhere. I ascertained that the village was
visited by a strange disease, a kind of fever, which carried off
its victims after one day's illness. The people became alarmed,
attributing it to the evil influences of spirits, and
decamped. I
suspect the water has something to do with it. The stream was sluggish
and of an oily nature, one small tributary which formed the chief
water-supply being particularly so. The unfortunate people are also
afflicted. This plague has extended over a considerable portion
of Luang Phrabang .
We crossed
the Nam Ngum, and as nobody seems ever to have gone down
the river, I sent Luang Pu Wat Satan with chain and compass
to make a traverse. The Siamese are as much at home in water
as out of it; the task was not an easy one, but he performed it
most successfully along its whole length of about fifteen hundred
feet. The cave swarms with swallows, and in its vicinity are numerous
bee-hives. People come yearly to collect wax and the edible nests
of the swallows. This is a work of considerable risk, and and scarcely
a year passes without some life being lost int the desperate effort
to reach the hives and nests. The nests them high up in the roof
of the cave.
We marched
to M. Pun and there met Nai Heng, who has been of
considerable assistance, and has just cleared a high and prominent
peak called Pu Mieng. I sent him on to M. Kasi to
push on the transport sent by Prince Phrachak and meet me
at Ban Sawt, while Smiles and I went for Pu Mieng.
Again we fall in with the useful Meo, who are pleased to
be our guides, but on this occassion I notice they provide themselves
with buckets of whisky, which they are constantly inbibing without
any apparent intoxicating effect. A large block of flint causes
delay, as the men chip off fragments; being of a peculiarly good
quality they use them with their steels for striking lights. A great
number of partridges and grouse are flushed, and we let two handsome
specimens go that had been snared.
Pu Mieng
is a peak 8,132 feet above sea-level, the north, west, and south
sides are almost perpendicular and unapproachable. The shadows of
these mountains in the mornings and evenings creeping over the distant
slopes as though projected forty miles away are interesting, and
add very much to the beauty of the picture.
Other parts
of the journey:
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