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Chiang Dao
Chaoh Phrayah
Kralahom,
who as Phrayah Mahatep, was here some twelve years ago when
settling Chieng Senn, is the special Commissioner
sent here to adjust the troubles brought about by the so-called
rebellion of the previous years. He is very conservative and polite;
fond of talking philosophy, and of amusing himself by observing
the effect produced on the listeners.
Here my old
enemy, fever, seized me, and it does not enliven my journey as I
jog on all day along a very good road near the Me Ping. The
road is not particularly interesting until we reach Chieng Dao,
an irregularly shaped village with a rickety palisade all round
it. The peak of Chieng Dao stands boldly up, 7,160 feet above
sea-level. It is a very imposing limestone rock, as it springs almost
perpendicularly from the plain to a height of six thousand feet.
It is visible from Chieng Mai , and nothing can persuade
the people that there is a higher hill, though there is clearly
visible Dawi Intanon, rising 8,450 feet above sea-level,
from a point a couple of miles below Chieng Mai . The people
of Chieng Dao are known as Pu Pawk (spirit-people).
Taking advantage of the superstitions prevalent in the country,
a cunning lawgiver enacted that all such people must live together
in localities set apart for them. In border-lands there were numerous
places which had to be guarded by police, who practically force
the people to take up their abode there. The head-man of the town
is a minor price from Chieng Mai, and whenever he has any
official intercourse with the people, he recites a prayer which
keeps him from the influence of the spirits. When any one is afflicted
with a serious illness, it is attributed to the evil influence of
the spirits, and it is supposed that the troubling spirit has entered
into and taken possession of some man or woman from whom it makes
excursions and feels on their neighbours. As the decline from illness
is attributed to spirits feeding on the liver, or heart, or some
equally important portion of the patient's system, the object is
to search and find the man or woman possessing the spirit. The unfortunate
patient who, if unconscious, is in all the better condition for
investigation, is plied with questions as to the whereabouts of
the offender, and if he mentions the name of his brother or father,
or any one else, the object of their suspicion is immediately driven
from the village, his house burnt, and he himself is glad to seek
shelter in one of the numerous settlements of the Pi Pawk.
Leaving Chien
Dao, I met four old ladies on a pilgrimage to Tumm Tap Tao
(turtle cave). The youngest was over sixty. They were dressed in
white, in a sort of nun's habit. They had walked from Lahawn,
and had been to Phrabat Si Rawi (four hundred footprints).
They told me they would not be sorry if they died when making their
pilgrimages. They gave into my care some few things, and commissioned
me to have them safely delivered at the cave to relieve them of
their loads. The scarcity of danger from wild animals along the
regularly beaten tracks, is shown by the fact that these old ladies
can travel about in this way, for they must often have to camp out
in jungles far from any village.
Approaching
the main watershed there are numerous limestone rocks cropping above
the surface of the ground from one hundred to two hundred feet high.
They are plentiful all over Northern Siam. From a distance
they look formidable enough, but these rocks always have easy passages
among them. The watershed, which is low, with a rough approach,
has great blocks of quartz cropping out all over, and beyond it
on the side of the path is a large cavern, the abode of some terrible
spirit. the watershed, which is low, with a rough approach, has
great blocks of quarts cropping out all over, and beyond it on the
side of the path is a large cavern, the abode of some terrible spirit.
The men amuse themselves with tumbling rocks into the cavern and
listening to the rumbling echoes far down in the darkness. The descent
which begins at the sacred cave is not a difficult one to the palin
of M. Fang, to Tumm Tap Tao, where there is a very
large swamp. Preparations are being made for the chief of Chieng
Mai, who is about to make a pilgrimage thither, if one can so
call a procession of one hundred and twenty elephants, who carry
the pilgrims, but their riders lead exactly the same life as at
Chieng Mai, with the exception of a pleasant and comfortable
journey, broken by a halt for two or three days and a general hunt
over the country, where game is plentiful. I hand over the lady
pilgrims' property and enter the sacred cave, which is far from
inviting, and contains numerous statues of Budda, and dark
recesses said to lead to all sorts of fabulous places.
On the 17th
of February, I reached M. Fang. The day is beautifully
clear after last night's rain. The town is an old one, irregular
in shape, with a moat and wall of half-burnt bricks with a backing
of earth twelve feet thick. The walls were originally crenelated,
and trees not less than sixty years old are growing on them. A great
deal of the inside is jungle, with a street or two roughly laid
out. The rice-fields surrounding the town are extensive , but very
little is under cultivation. The few pagodas are more than half
in ruins.
A curiously
designed building stands at the junction of the streets. It is said
to have been built by a man starting a new religion, the chief tenet
of which was that the people must not respect the princes. There
is a small hill in the town with a broken-down temple and pagoda,
and the River Me Chai flows through the town. It comes from
Dawi Pahom Pok (cover-blanket mountain), a magnificent mountain
to the north-west, fixed in position by the Indian triangulation.
I make a mental resolution to start my work from this peak. The
Governor was troublesome about his poverty, which he said
was brought about by Phya Pap, who at the head of a number
of Shans occupied the town last year. For the past ten years
there has been a body of ruffians from the Salwin, who have
committed all manner of diabolical deeds, causing the most acute
misery over large tracks of country. At the head of some of them
Phya Pap occupied the town. Fortunately none of the inhabitants
were killed. The Governor's nephew was wounded and taken
prisoner by Shans, more than likely by some of his own followers.
The Governor
complains that has not the wherewithal to carry on government, and
that the Chao gives letters to men of Chieng Mai enabling
them to collect jungle produce and fish, which are very plentiful
in the swamps, so that he cannot collect revenue.
I am anxious
to make arrangements about Pahom Pok, and as the head Mussur
is down here, I take advantage of his presence to make inquiries.
The answer, I believe, is: "There are no roads and you cannot
go." I asked how he managed to come and why I should not be
able to go where he went, as he was a very old man.
"Yes,
I am ninety-four of age"-he was certainly over sixty- "but
you must go to M. Hang if you want to get to Pahom Pok."
"M. Hang is many days' journey, while Pahom Pok
is over there quite close at hand." He laughed, thought it
a great joke, and said he would be glad if I came to his village,
and that he would give me every assistance. The Governor
was very much disgusted, and looked upon him as a savage, because
he was beginning to speak the truth, for according to his notions
that man is truly clever who can deceive best. Such a man is deserving
of respect, the candid and truthful man is fool.
Later on the
Mussurs pay me a visit; a little whisky warms them up. One
of them pulls out from the sack under his arm a reed instrument,
and they all join in a Highland fling. The old man is proud
of the performance, and they leave in good-humour, promising me
every sort of assistance.
The next day
I am able to get only ten men together, so I get the loan of an
elephant from a Shan settler, and push on for the Mussur
village. The chronometer is placed in a basket and swung to a pole,
and two men always carry it. It is of course no weight, but this
is the best way of carrying the chronometer, particularly if the
positions of places are to be determined by time. As early as possible
I was off, putting my things on the elephant, and we were soon climbing
the mountain along an excellent path. When we reached a height of
about four thousand feet above sea-level, we came on the extensive
clearings of the Mussurs, and met some of them quite at home
swinging excellent axes of their own manufacture, and felling in
every direction valuable log-wood trees regardless of what they
are. Down they all must go, and let the sun's rays play freely on
the rice that is to be cultivated. The trees after they felled are
allowes to remain where they are for two or three months, and are
then fired.
The haze is
already a serious obstacle to the progress of survey work, and the
smoke added renders all survey operations impossible. On we go among
the oak-trees: the air is very refreshing. Towards evening numbers
of Mussurs-men, women, and children-come over the hill slopes,
and join us in our main-path to the village. They carry cross-bows,
antiquated guns, many of them of the good old Brown Bess
type, dating from the time when "George the Third was King,"
with the Tower mark on each. About sunset we approached the
village: from the stream the ascent of a couple of hundred feet
is very steep, and it is growing dark as I take up my place under
the trees just above the village. There are numerous naked little
children running about, none very clean, but active and great hill-climbers.
We boil a little tea, and at about 11 p.m. the poor old elephant
puts in an appearance, after laboriously climbing up the hill. There
was a great commotion in the village at his coming, an elephant
never having been seen before.
The next day
I halted, and sent the elephant back, as fodder was not easily procurable.
The village was in a hollow, and is quite five thousand feet above
sea-level: the trees surrounding are all cleared. The houses are
thatched, and are built on bamboo platforms, the head-man's being
a little larger than the others. There was another house, set apart
with a stout palisade round it, which no stranger can enter. This
was the spirit-house and place of public worship, and they told
me that on that day he who enters must have fasted, but I think
this was and obligation invented for the moment to prevent me from
satisfying my curiosity. They say there is nothing inside but some
scrolls, which they received from their fathers, as they have no
writing among them. At the present time this becomes the more interesting.
They say the Mussurs originally came from China, and,
according to their own account, are great warriors, having been
recently engaged in mighty battles. The fact is that there is some
great movement of population going on in the north, and thesepeople
are being pushed south. It is necessary for them to have some cock-and-bull
story about the battles they have fought to satisfy the Governor
of M. Fang that they are not the advance-guard of an enemy.
They pay a trifling amount of wax as a tax, and are allowed free
settlement. They are the pioneers who clear the virgin forests,
and then move on, making way for better things to follow. The Chinese
are evidently developing in their own country and pushing west and
south, hence the strange migration of all these tribes, who in the
last ten years are clearing and settling hillsides that no human
being ever approached before.
I share the
honours with the elephant in exciting the curiosity of the people,
and men, women, and children swarm round. They all have pipes made
out of roots of bamboos. The very small babies are slung on the
backs of the mothers, and peer with their small black eyes over
their shoulders.
The women wear
a turban with a broad flap on the top of the head, their hair is
fastened in a knot on the top of the head. They wear hoops of silver
from three to four unches in diameter and a quarter of an inch thick
as ear-rings, and have circlets of silver and also circlets of cane
around their throats. These latter are an absolute necessity in
the toilette of the women, as without them the spirits would carry
them off. They wear jackets and skirts with fancy-work borders,
and adorned, in the case of the better class among them, with large
silver buttons.
The men have
but one wife. They say they originally came from Muang Ke,
under China, but when I questioned them, I could only ascertain
that they came from the provinces of Chieng Tung and Chieng
Rung, and none from east of the Nam Kawng.
There are eleven
tribes: Piki, Icho, Hai, Hai Siah, Polah, Kelli, Kulao, Wengah
from Chieng Tung; Hodi, Nampe, Lalaw from Chieng Rung . Their
only belief in the invisible is in the spirits of the mountains.
They burn the dead who die of disease, and bury those who die from
some accident. This is also the custom among the Lao.
Wild tea grows
all aver the mountain. The Mussurs use the leaves, but they
do not cultivate it. Near my camp is a tea-tree, which at two feet
high is forty-two inches in girth.
I get together
some Mussurs, who provide themselves with axes, and with
their goods in baskets on their backs, we trudge to the top of the
hill. The finding of the highest point of a hill is not so easy
as it looks. The forest is very heavy, and not even a glimpse of
the surrounding country is to be had unless one climbs up a high
tree, when the summit of what looks like a high peak is reached.
This is a duty I used always to do myself, but I find I am not quite
as nimble as I was. I pay for my want of agility by many anxious
moments, and by having to listen to the stupid remarks of the man
aloft, so that not unfrequently I am forced to go is a hill far
higher in another direction, about two miles off; again hacking
through jungle undergrowth, down steep slopes, and after wandering
about and hesitating at half a dozen likely points, at last the
top is found.
If it happens
to be raining it is not pleasant walking, for it is very difficult
to keep one's footing, and the fogs and mists hide everything. In
our difficulty the little aneroid shows what a useful companion
it can be, as if one has any notion of the height of the mountain
he is in search of, this valuable little instrument saves a good
many moments of doubt and anxiety.
Getting at
Pahom Pok, however, is not difficult, and on the 24th
of February I reach the top. To the west is a perpendicular
scarp, which makes the clearing all the more easy, and we start
at hacking the trees at once.
On the 25th
of February every availablle man is at work, and the Mussurs
show themselves excellent woodmen. On the evening of the 26th
we are ready, and all but two signal trees are cut down. The haze
has however set in, and it is a gloomy prospect for the work. Some
strangers put in an appearance and call themselves Mussur Saleng.
They are, I think, Kaws, and very Chinese in appearance,
the women do not wear the Mussur skirt, but trousers.
A strong wind
is blowing from the west, and remembering the forecasts of the signallers
of the Indian Survey, I was hopeful. The Indian signallers
always held that south and east winds increased haze, but that the
west and north winds drove it away. Haze is always heaviest in limestone
localities.
Strange to
say, the morning of the 27th was gloriously fine, and Chieng
Dao, a remarkable limestone peak, stood well out. The longitude
of Chieng Mai was determined by telegraph signals and Chieng
Dao, fixed from Chieng Mai . It was in this way I wanted
to feel sure of the position of Pahom Pok, and observing
for latitude and azimuth, to start a triangulation and carry it
round Siam. Since then, Colonel R. G. Woodthrope, R.E.C.B
., whom I was fortunate enough to know sixteen years ago, kindly
supplied me with the Indian value of Pahom Pok, and
on this value the whole of the work has been based.
Looking over
the vast expanse of moutains clothed to the top in forest, I resolve
to advance over the country. The triangulation of the work seems
a gigantic task, but, though the roughest way of doing the work,
it is the best, as numerous checks of azimuth and latitude can be
taken, and at intervals, enough flat ground found to measure base-lines.
The great difficulty is the sparseness of the population and the
heavy jungle. The haze has now set in, and until some rain falls,
it is hopeless to think of doing any triangulation work, so that
the time must be filled up with running traverses.
I return to
M. Fang to find them making great preparations for the Chief
of Chieng Mai, who is at the sacred cave going through his pilgrimage.
My friends the Mussurs of Pahom Pok have been sent for to
amuse the Chief. The old Mussur's entry into the town
was in great style. He was seated on a pony, and as the weather
was warm he had dispensed with his coat. A gold umbrella was held
over him, he was immediately followed by a number of Mussurs
blowing their favourite reeds, and another lot with swords and guns.
The rear was brought up by a woman decked out in great quantity
of finery. She evidently represented all the beauty and all the
weath of the maidens of Phya Prom Kiri's village. The Chief
of Chieng Mai entered in great state with one hundred and twenty
elephants. Dr. Cheek accompanied him. The chances for transport
are not very hopeful.
Preparations
are made for hunts over the plains of M. Fang, where game
is very plentiful. I accompanied Dr. Cheek, who has about
twenty elephants to beat up the different varieties of deer and
pig. I have an attack of fever, which does not add any zest to the
day's sport. Game was plentiful, but we were not over-successful.
One party was chased by a wild elephant, which has been giving trouble
to the tame ones.
When I approach
the chief on the subject of transport, he suggests rafts, and has
an idea I should confine myself to the Nam Fang. I however
explain that I have to visit M. Yawn, M. Tum, M. Kwang, and
thence will go to Chieng Senn. In spite of his advice he
is good enough to give me an order, and though it means delays this
cannot be helped. the chief left M. Fang in great state,
bugles blowing, drums and gongs beating, and four dozen soldiers
followed by a magnificent tusker elephant, on which the chief is
seated. The elephant is followed by many men on foot carrying spears,
then follow his favourite wives, each seated on an elephant. Phra
Sarisdi came at this time into M. Fang. He has completed
an excellent round of work, and will be very useful to enable me
to prosecute mine. There are some eight Siamese lads with
me, so I arrange to send them traversing in all directions, rendezvous
at Chieng Senn.
On the 15th
of March I start from M. Fang traversing. It is so hazy
that mountains a couple of miles off are invisible. I pass through
some villages of Ngios settlers from Chieng Tung, M. Hang,
and M. Tum. They are looked upon as being excellent guards.
Until the English occupation of the Shan States the
unfortunate people of those regions knew no peace, and were scattered
in all directions. Some of these settlers in outlying guard-stations
are very poor. They have to look to the forests to supply them with
their wants, and they have constructed temporary grass sheds, and
clear the forest for the patch of rice which is to supply them for
the coming year.
Last year Phya
Pap in his flight seems to have taken this route, others followed
on his track, and fired the wretched huts of M. Tawn and
Wieng Ke, across the Nam Kok. The path leads through
thick bamboo jungle, and as I have fever my progress is slow. For
a man with fever it is hard work clamberingup and down the hills.
On the 24th
there is a thunder-storm, and the hailstones are very large, one
which was particularly so I took up, and found it had a shape of
a strawberry with a very smooth bottom, but the rest of the exterior,
rough, as though composed of four or five different stones. It was
one and a quarter inches across. The atmosphere has been temporarily
cooled, but the people, anxious about their fields, have started
firing their jungles. The clearings were made some months ago, and
the cut trees have had time to dry and are cleared away by fire,
the ashes forming a good manure. The smoke added to the haze renders
everything invisible, and one can look at the sun comfortably, which
has a dull red appearance.
The Shans
of M. Yawn seem very honest. I sent a guide I brought from there
with thirty rupees to buy rice. He was absent all day and brought
back a large quantity at a cheap rate. It would have been easy for
him to return to his home, and he certainly would have done so had
he the slightest tendency to "dacoiting."
I reached M.
Tum on the 28th, quite knocked up with fever. The two
head-men came to me, and were very polite, but they told me that
M. Tum belonged to Chieng Tung . I explained I had
not the settlement of the question, but was merely inquiring about
the boundary. They again informed me that M. Tum belonged
to Siam. As I had fever rather badly, I went to bed as soon
as my tent was up. M. Tum is a very fine plain at the head
of the Nam Sai and surrounded by lofty peaks that the Mussur
are cultivating. The people are the race known as Kerrns,
and they have the reputation of being the best people among the
Shans. All through the afternoon a number of tastefully dressed
women and children bring presents of cakes, molasses, and eggs,
and with most engaging smiles say they have come long distances
to make presents. The Bank of England could not stand the
run made on me. In the course of the day some extraordinary looking
fellows put in an appearance, they were tatooed from neck to heels.
One fellow, who says he is the Governor of M. Kwan, is very
impertinent, and wants me to retrace my steps, saying that he will
not allow me to go to M. Kwan. The Paw Muang tells
me that the fellow is from the west of the Salwin, and was
with the adventurer known as Twet Nalu, who did a great deal
of mischief. The Chief of Chieng Tung keeps jim as a fighting
man. He was employed by him a short time ago to commit some murders
at Chieng Lai and M. Lim; he also tells me it was
this man's followers who killed and robbed some unfortunate traders
coming from far-off Nawng Kai in January or February
of 1889.
A great number
of villages about here are settlements of robbers, it being thought
a good plan to have robbers on the borders, to act as guards. Some
of the traders I met here were Chinese Shans, and it was
pleasant to find the way they stood up for the good opportunity
of ascertaining some of the Chinese methods of government.
Whenever the
officials, in their journeys, I was told, stop at a place, the inhabitants
must supply them and their three days, payment is made for all suplies.
The only grievance seems to be that the Chinese head official
insist on being carried on the necks of the people, of course in
a sedan-chair.
He asked to
look at my gun, and wanted a shot, and was in no way surprised at
the breech-loader. It pleased him immensely to hear the noise, but
returning the gun, said they "had much better ones in China,
where you could fire ten shots at once." I notice that the
Chinese Shans seem to talk purer Siamese than the
other Shans.
An image of
Gautama is being completed, and offerings of silver are being
placed on an opening in the chest of the figure. The Siamese
are invited to join, but they refuse as they are Buddhists.
To say the least it was unwise. The Paw Muang gives me four
guides, who are also a partial guide, and we move off to M. Kwan.
On the way we meet with some men digging for gold. M. Kwan
is in an excellent position, with undulating hills. There is also
a goodly amount of rice-fields there. I pitched my tent on the river,
and saw nothing of my threatening friend. All the settlers are from
the Salwin, and they are the worst rascals in the states.
A number of them tatooed from head to hells keep flitting about
ten years old, with about twenty other lads as followers. They tell
me he is the son of Twet Nalu. I move off from M. Kwan
and follow the path over the mountains. There is one down the Nam
Sai, but it has been made difficult to follow, so as to prevent
the robbers from being easily pursued.
The path goes
through the clearings of the Kaws and a number of abandoned
villages. The houses are very large and substantial, but the Kaws
never settle long in one place, ofr as soon as a couple of deaths
occur they attribute them to the evil influence of spirits, and
move off to another locality.
I was not able
to meet any of the people. On the side of the path and about fifty
yards across the stream, I saw an old woman with a load on her back
toiling over the clearing, which was covered with charred trunks
of trees. She was accompanied by two children, and as soon as the
urchins caught sight of me they left the old woman and scampered
away, skipping like monkeys from trunk to trunk. At intervals they
pull up and speak encouragingly to the old woman, who seems not
to be using the choicest language.
Other parts of the journey:
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