The hun pooay—Mission proceeds to Sawady—Visit from Woon—Rumoured opposition—The Woon as a musician—Sawady village—Royal orders—Baggage difficulties—Arrival of Mr. Clement Allan—Paloungto chief—Kakhyen pilfering—Abandon route—Adopt Ponline route—Reasons for change—Tsaleng Woon—Departure of mission to Tsitkaw—Elias and Cooke proceed to Muangmow—Dolphins—Up the Tapeng—Tahmeylon—Arrive at Tsitkaw.
On the following day the greater part of the baggage was stowed in boats ready for departure to Sawady, which was fixed for the 23rd. The Woon made his appearance at an early hour, bent on inviting Margary and his writer, and all of us, to spend this the last day with him. In the forenoon the usual ying pooay, or dance, went on, but in the evening a hun pooay, or pooay acted by marionettes, was given. This was a much more artistic affair than that of the Chinese puppets, the marionettes being well made, regularly dressed figures about three feet high. The stage on which they are presented is removed to a distance, the proscenium forming, as it were, a frame proportioned to the size of the figures; and the movers of the puppets stand behind a screen at the back, and manipulate the little heroes and heroines by means of strings. To the spectators they have a most real appearance, being very cleverly handled, and the speeches are made by the invisible actors with such art as to really seem as if proceeding from the puppets, so as to suggest ventriloquism. This performance was evidently the most popular form of entertainment. The Woon sat eyeing the puppets intently through his binocular, just as his royal master had eyed us at the audience, and the townspeople, squatted in rows, remained till midnight eagerly watching the mannikins. The Woon produced an alarum clock which had been rendered incapable of going, and amused himself tinkling the alarum; but he was quite ignorant of the value of the hours, and even after several lessons illustrated by a watch, he utterly failed to fix the hands.
On the next day, most of our party rode to Sawady, to which place the guard and all the baggage had preceded them. Mr. Elias and I, however, remained behind until we should receive the mot d’ordre from Browne, as the operation of packing the bullocks was likely to occupy some days. The Woon, whom I had not seen that day, came in the afternoon to apologise for his apparent neglect, as he had been engaged in receiving public subscriptions for the regilding of the Shuaykeenah pagoda. He was delighted at my offering a small contribution, and waxed eloquent on the entente cordiale engendered by such conduct, and sent for his wife to bring a large silver vase containing the collection, to which my donation was duly added. We had a long talk on the archæology of the district, the old cities of Tsampenago and Kuttha, and the founder of the Shuaykeenah pagoda, whom he asserted to have been a king of Ceylon, named Thee-yee-da-ma-thanka, a legend commonly current regarding the more ancient pagodas of Burma. In the evening he sent the tsare-daw-gyee and the two tsitkays to pay a visit, from whom I learned that there existed ancient histories of the district in some of the khyoungs, one of which they promised, if possible, to obtain. When they were shown a photograph of the Soolay pagoda at Rangoon, they expressed their regret that during the municipal improvements of the town the site of the sacred building had become the junction of cross-roads, which seemed in their minds a desecration. They were, however, relieved by the assurance that this must have been done by the British authorities in ignorance of the religious prejudices thereby affected.
Two or three days passed without any incident of consequence, save that on the 25th a Chinaman came to the Residency to report that he had overheard some Yunnan Chinese talking in the bazaar, and had gathered that an armed force had been despatched from Momien and Tali-fu to Muangmow, under the command of Li-sieh-tai, to oppose our entrance into China. His account, however, was very confused, and he had not succeeded in hearing any very distinct statements, as the men had evidently been suspicious of him. It is probable that this was merely a garbled version of the fact that Li-sieh-tai had crossed from the Tapeng valley to Muangwan with a few men en route to Muangmow. The same day letters arrived from Sawady to say that the departure of the mission was fixed for the following day, upon which we went at once to the Woon to secure boats, who most readily placed them at our disposal. He afterwards paid us a visit, bringing his Burmese harp of twelve strings, on which he showed himself no mean performer. He was accompanied by a boy who played a sort of harmonicon, or musical glasses constructed of slips of hard wood, which vibrated with a sweet, full tone. Another performer clashed a pair of cymbals, and clicked split bamboos like castanets. The airs were sweet and plaintive. After the music we had a long conversation about England, Prussia, France, and Persia, with the general relations of which governments he showed himself to be well acquainted. Railways and the mode of transit to England were also discussed; my interpreter, however, though an educated Burmese and son of a native official, proving very incompetent, and putting absurd statements into my mouth. The Woon had brought a present of a fruit, which he said was a great rarity from Yunnan. It was the size of an apple, of a bright yellow colour, with a delicate skin enclosing a jelly-like pulp, the coolness of which he expressed by a pantomimic passing of his hand from the throat to the epigastric region. He called it tsay-thee; but inquiries from Elias and Margary identified it as a persimmon. Of this fruit, quantities in a dried form are imported to Burma, where they are a favourite sweetmeat; but the fresh fruit is unknown.
On the 27th we were ready to take boat to Sawady, and I bade farewell to my friend, the Woon, who charged me to write to him. Elias and myself started from Bhamô about 11.30, and arrived at Sawady in a little more than a couple of hours.
Sawady is a miserable village of about forty houses, though formerly containing five times that number; but continual inroads by the Kakhyens have reduced it to its present scanty dimensions. It is under the protection of the Phonkan tsawbwa, who also, for a yearly payment of salt, protects the village of Yuathet, situated about three quarters of a mile to the north on the high bank of a small creek called Theng-leng, which flows into the Irawady between high alluvial banks. The village of Sawady is defended by a double bamboo palisade, and a similar palisade runs along the narrow path dividing the two rows of houses. As a further protection, boats, corresponding to the number of houses, are moored to the river bank, and nightly the inhabitants retire to them for sleep, and thus secure themselves against the not infrequent nocturnal attacks of the Kakhyens. Sawady and Yuathet are both small emporiums for trade, whither the Kakhyens resort to procure fish and salt, and they bring bamboos to be floated down the river; they are also ports for the trade to the interior. Around stretches a vast plain, bounded by the distant hills, profusely covered with forest and jungle, sometimes of underwood, sometimes of thick grass fifteen feet high, with frequent swamps, which in the wet season are covered with water. Before our arrival, Margary and Fforde had made expeditions into the forest in search of game. Peafowl abounded there, perched at inaccessible heights, on the highest trees, and they found the tracks of tigers and other large game, but the solitudes were still as death, and they returned without having started any animal. We found the convoy of bullocks, under the charge of some hundred Kakhyens, encamped outside the village. The Paloungto tsawbwa, a respectable-looking man, clean and well dressed, with a huge roll of gold-leaf by way of ear-ring distending the lobe of his ear, along with his pawmines, was ready to receive the baggage. The Burmese guard encamped in hastily improvised tais, while the Englishmen were accommodated in a rickety zayat screened with curtains.
On the second day (January 24th), orders came from Mandalay that the Burmese guard should escort the mission right up to the nominal frontier of Burma and China or to Kwotloon, instead of Mansay, as previously arranged and approved by the Kakhyens, whose opinion of the change was not given. They continued to take over the packages, giving receipts for each, and making panniers suitable for carriage on the bullocks, into which the boxes were to be packed.
On the 25th, objections began to be raised to the size of the packages, which had been previously altered at Bhamô, and next the tsawbwa appeared to say that he had brought three hundred and thirty-six bullocks, although we only required two hundred. He explained this, by stating that Elias had doubted their ability to provide two hundred bullocks. The chief, therefore, had brought three hundred and thirty-six, to prove the contrary, and expected to be paid for the lot, although he admitted that the Resident had contracted for one hundred and fifty bullocks and twenty ponies. This proposal being got rid of, the next demand was for payment of the hire in advance, which Colonel Browne also negatived, but promised to pay him one-half the amount, provided all was ready for a start in two days.
The next day was accordingly spent in transferring all the remaining baggage, with the exception of the boxes containing the wardrobes of the officers and the cash, which were placed under the immediate care of the Sikhs.
The 27th found the preparations for starting still backward, a state of things which was not improved by heavy rain, against which the Englishmen and their followers were but slightly protected, and the baggage not at all. The chief and his pawmines appeared to receive the promised advance of hire, but he declined to fix a time for starting, as he required salt wherewith to load the extra bullocks. When met by a refusal to delay for this purpose, he departed in a bad temper, leaving his pawmines to continue the discussion. They finally settled to start the day but one after, on condition of receiving one viss of silver in advance, and one hundred and forty rupees as demurrage expenses, being ten rupees for each of the fourteen villages whence the bullocks had come. This was a fair charge, as the men and their beasts had been awaiting our arrival for some days. Elias and I arrived while the payment was being made in lumps of sycee silver, one of which was declared by a pawmine to be bad, and, being bitten, proved to be hollow and filled with sand. Soothed by the receipt of the compraw, the Paloungto chief declared that we were brothers, and he would be ready to start “the day after to-morrow.”
The evening brought a pleasant surprise to our party by the arrival of Mr. Clement Allan, who had come from Mandalay in ten days, in a royal boat. While passing on the river, he heard one of the Sikhs talking to a Chinaman on the bank, and, hailing them, discovered our whereabouts. He was thus saved the journey to Bhamô, and all our party were now assembled, and notwithstanding the heavy rain, we spent a pleasant evening in anticipation of a speedy departure.
While at breakfast, we were disturbed by hearing a number of gun shots, and learned that the Kakhyens had endeavoured to remove our clothes boxes in order to add them to the general baggage. The Sikhs on guard, having received orders not to lose sight of them, declined to permit their removal, whereupon the indignant Kakhyens fired their muskets in the air. The Burmese tsitkay expressed uneasiness as to the temper of the Kakhyens, and seemed to fear a collision with them, as they numbered about four hundred men armed with muskets. There evidently existed some ill-feeling between the Kakhyens and the Burmese, and it unfortunately happened that all interviews with the chief were conducted in presence of the Burmese officials. It came out in the course of the day that the Paloungto chief had not entered into any convention with the other tsawbwas of the route. The Resident had been assured that a passage through their territories was certain on payment of the ordinary dues. The chief had declared that most of them would support his arrangements, but that it would be necessary at Mansay to agree with the Phonkan tsawbwa, who would not come to Sawady. The inveterate curiosity and pilfering habits of the hillmen were exemplified by their boring holes in several provision tins in order to ascertain the contents, the holes being afterwards carefully stopped with cotton; our sugar, salt, and bags of rice were taken toll of, and sundry bottles of brandy had mysteriously disappeared; and it was subsequently discovered that the screws had been drawn out of the boxes. Still, when it is remembered that a number of wild hillmen had been detained in this place for a fortnight, with scanty provisions, allowance must be made for petty thieving, without arguing a deliberate intention of plunder. Our leader, however, began to be seriously anxious about the prospects of safe transit through the hills by this route. To the difficulty arising from the known antipathy of the Burmese to the Lenna Kakhyens, there was now added the declaration of some Shans of Muangmow, that the hillmen would not be permitted to cross their borders, and this tended to make Colonel Browne suspicious of the real intentions of the Paloungto chief. The climax was reached when the old interpreter, Moung Mo, announced in the evening that our expected start was postponed sine die, and that the chief, displeased at being refused the charge of our clothes boxes, declined to accompany us, devolving our escort on his pawmines. Upon this, Colonel Browne resolved to return to Bhamô, and make arrangements for proceeding by the old Ponline route, instead of that by Sawady and the Shuaylee. But I think it doubtful that the Paloungto chief had any dishonest intentions. He could not have divined the presence of the specie in the boxes, and it was natural that he should require all the baggage to be made over on the eve of starting, and should resent the obvious imputation on his honesty, implied in the refusal to surrender these boxes.
We rode to Bhamô through jungle grass fifteen feet high, interrupted occasionally by hollows studded with trees. The intersecting creeks were difficult to cross, as the path, or rut, through the high sandbanks was steep, and barely wide enough for a passage, so much so that one of the ponies, with his rider, rolled back into the water, which was only about three feet deep. Having arrived at Bhamô, and decided to go by the Ponline route, if practicable for the led horses, the Resident started for Tsitkaw, to summon the Kakhyen chiefs, and provide mules. The Woon, fearing that the Paloungto chief would not surrender the baggage, despatched a reinforcement of armed men on board of four war-boats, mounted with gingals. We returned to Sawady by water, bringing several large boats for the baggage, which were left at Yuathet, by way of precaution against alarming the Kakhyens. On the 30th the tsawbwa and his pawmines came in from their camp, and Browne recapitulated the delays and broken promises of the past week as well as the want of arrangements with the other tsawbwas of the route. The chief replied that his refusal to start had been caused by his anger at being refused the care of the boxes; that he was willing to start “the day after to-morrow;” but if we refused to go by his route, he should expect to be paid the agreed hire for the bullocks brought down. The reply to this was that, whatever the Resident and pawmines, who had made the original contract, agreed to as justly due should be paid. Browne, however, offered a douceur of a viss of silver as soon as the baggage was restored. This was agreed to; and the men at once set to work to bring back the boxes, which were transferred to the large boats, and on January 31st the entire mission, escorted by the Burmese war-boats, returned to Bhamô, having definitely abandoned the route by Sawady, and elected to travel by the northern or Ponline road.
Letters had been received from the Resident, written from Tsitkaw, to the effect that plenty of mules were procurable, and that the Burmese officials had summoned the Kakhyen chiefs. On our arrival at Bhamô, we found a force of three hundred men in war-boats armed with gingals, collected under the command of the Woon, who had been about to come in person to Sawady to deliver us, if necessary, from the hands of the Lenna Kakhyens. This was an additional proof, if any had been needed, of the care of the Burmese for our welfare, and of the uncertainty of their relations with the southern hill tribes. It was with great reluctance that I for one turned my back on the Sawady route, the full exploration and eventual establishment of which as the future trade route had been proposed as a special object of our mission. It was generally understood to be, though the longest, the one which presented fewest physical difficulties; and of its actual employment we had ocular demonstration in the trading parties, numbering many mules and bullocks, which were continually coming and going during our stay at its terminus.
The northern route had been thoroughly explored six years before, and full information collected concerning its physical and social conditions, while the change in the political relations affected all routes alike. As was afterwards ascertained, we were expected by the Chinese at Muangmow, whither, it appears, Li-sieh-tai had gone to meet the mission, and, as far as may be judged by his conduct, without hostile intentions; and besides all this, Mr. Elias, cooperating with the British Resident at Bhamô, had visited the Lenna Kakhyens a month before, and had made arrangements with them, according to which they had brought down their beasts of burden for the conveyance of the mission. Among various reasons assigned for abandoning the route were the suspicious bearing of the Paloungto chief, and the possible, if not probable, risk of delay in the hills. This would have been aggravated by the chance that the provisions of the Sikhs, who were only supplied with flour for thirty-five days, might run short. Another danger was conceived to lie in the want of arrangements with the Phonkan chief, who might prove as obstructive as he of Ponsee had done, and either stop or fleece the mission. With regard to the behaviour of the Lenna chief of Paloungto, it might have been expected that any lurking ill-will would have been aggravated by the disappointment experienced at losing the fair profits of a convoy, for which he had brought down carriage and waited so long. At the time, the presence of the large Burmese force may be thought to have restrained him; but the subsequent reception given by him and his brother of Wurrabone to Mr. Elias and Captain Cooke showed him to be thoroughly well affected, and almost anxious to prove the absence of any ill-feeling. It was a generally wise and proper policy to thoroughly conciliate the goodwill of the Burmese officials, and to carry them with us in all our proceedings. This line of conduct was carefully and consistently adopted by our leader, but, consequently, there was no opportunity afforded to the Kakhyen chief of expressing his sentiments as to the Burmese guard. His only intercourse with our party was by interview held in presence of the tsitkay, at which he was expected to take the position of an inferior, squatting on the ground before men to whom he acknowledged no subordination; and it is to be regretted that he did not find an opportunity for confidential communication which might probably have led to a better understanding. It must also be remembered that Kakhyen chiefs do not comprehend the value of time, or share our notions as to procrastination, and are not above “trying it on” in order to gain a little more silver. As regards the possible complications with the Phonkan tsawbwa, who six years before had announced his wish for the passage of British commerce through his country, although he could not or would not come into Sawady, he might have been induced to have met and conferred with us at Mansay, while, if supplies of flour were not procurable at Bhamô, yet, according to the experience acquired in 1868, they were available in the Shan valleys and at Momien.
On February 1st, we were all assembled in our old quarters at Bhamô. The Woon was rather nonplussed at the adoption of the Ponline route, and anxious as to the dangers of attack to which the mission might be exposed before reaching Manwyne, though no whit relaxing his efforts to carry out our wishes. Another Woon, he of Tsaleng, arrived in the royal steamer, and seemed to fill the post of counsellor to his colleague, who was perplexed by the news which arrived from Cooke, that all the tsawbwas were at Manwyne discussing the tariff, and could not return for some days. The same steamer brought up from Mandalay two Kakhyen chiefs of the central route, viz. Muangkha and Poonhya. In return for services rendered to the recent Burmese embassy, these two chiefs had been received with high honour, and presented with gold umbrellas and gilded saddles. They rode through Bhamô on ponies decorated with the gilded equipage, while each rider wore a golden head-band bearing his titles, preceded by a man carrying the golden umbrella, and escorted by others beating gongs and proclaiming his rank.
On the 3rd, the heavy baggage and guard were embarked in boats to proceed to Tsitkaw, accompanied by Fforde and myself, leaving Colonel Browne and Margary to follow by land, while Elias had arranged to attempt the passage by the Sawady route, and join the rendezvous at Momien. The flotilla started from the river bank at Bhamô, and poled up the Irawady to the mouth of the Tapeng, our progress against the rapid stream being slow, and impeded by numerous projecting snags and occasional sandbanks, where the water was so shallow that the crew were obliged to jump overboard and push or drag the heavily laden boats along. Immediately outside the mouth of the Tapeng extended a bar of sandbanks, beyond which the great river suddenly deepened to about eighty feet of water. In this deep reach numerous round-headed dolphins were sporting. This being the pairing season, the males were chasing the females. Some were swimming with their heads half out of water, and jerking from their mouths large quantities of water to some distance. One or two were noticed apparently standing erect in the water, with their heads elevated straight above its surface, so that nearly the whole of the pectoral fins was plainly visible; others, in pairs, were rolling about on their sides. One was fired at, but simply responded by a splutter and a dive. The boatmen, seeing our interest in them, declared that they would come if called, and proceeded to utter a peculiar sound of hrr, hrr, and to drum on the side of the boat with a stick. They informed us that the dolphins do not proceed higher up the river than a rocky headland in the first defile, called Labein-hin, or Dolphin Point, because the nats have established a customs station there to collect an impost, which the dolphins are not willing to pay. The dolphin of the Irawady (Orcella fluminalis, Andr.) is the only round-headed form as yet known to be found in fresh water, individuals having been rarely observed much below Prome, three hundred miles from the sea, or nearly so. The colour of the body is a dusky slate, and the under part of a dirty white; they attain a considerable size, individuals ten feet in length being not uncommon. Besides the round head, they are distinguished from the long-snouted dolphin of the Ganges (Platanista gangetica, Lebeck), which also inhabits fresh water exclusively, by the much larger, fully proportioned eye. The latter, as a tenant of the muddy water of the Ganges, which must be almost impervious to vision, has a very minute eye. In the Yang-tze and in the great lake of the Cambodia, dolphins are also found, and will probably prove to be closely allied to those of the Irawady; but as yet we have no knowledge of their characters. In the estuaries of the Bay of Bengal there is a small, round-headed dolphin closely allied to this Irawady cetacean, but it never ascends to the fresh water of the rivers. Apart from the scientific interest of these large fluviatile mammals, they form a striking feature in the river scenery of the Irawady as they roll and tumble in long lines up the deep reaches, and seem to delight in keeping pace with or outracing the steamers. They do not appear to migrate through the whole distance of the river’s course, but to confine themselves within certain districts. The fishermen of the river regard them with a superstitious respect, and each village is believed to be under the protection of a particular dolphin, which guards the fishery. An offer of one hundred rupees altogether failed to induce the people to catch a specimen; and it was only by the fortunate acquisition of a dead carcass thrown upon the bank, and secured by Captain Bowers, that I was enabled to make a thorough comparison of the structure of this remarkable inhabitant of the river. It should be added that the great black-headed gull is so regular a companion of the dolphin that it is called by the fishermen the labein-nuet, or dolphin-bird.
The progress of the flotilla of six laden boats against the rapid stream of the Tapeng was necessarily slow. The right bank presented a wide stretch of level country studded with tall cotton trees and oil trees. The highest leafless branches of the former furnish eyries for the ring-tailed eagle (Haliaetus leucoryphus, Pallas), a pair of which birds were perched on a tree close to the bank commanding the river. One bird was added to our collection. The left bank was clothed to the water line with an impenetrable forest of magnificent trees, rising from a jungle with ratans and luxuriant musæ. Numerous peacocks displayed their splendid plumage on the high branches, most provokingly out of shot. Hornbills, brown doves with violet necks abounded, and in the jungle, barking deer, hog-deer, and sambur. The exposed sandbanks were covered with snake-birds; terns, black-headed egrets, plovers, and Brahminy ducks and wild geese also were frequent. We moored for the night at the village of Queyloon, in time for a short excursion to some abandoned rice plantings, in search of wild ducks; returning from which we observed numerous small owls, the soft eccentric flight of which resembled that of the goat-sucker.
Soon after sunrise we were again en route, having waited some time for a promised supply of buffalo milk, this being an almost unattainable luxury in Burma; but the baby buffalo had anticipated our demand, and disappointed our hopes. At the village of Tahmeylon, where we had made a stoppage on the first ascent of the Tapeng in 1868, the changes of the river channel were exemplified. At that time the water ran deep under a high bank, but now a broad sandbank extended in front of the village. We had landed on the other side of a neck of land which caused a bend in the river, intending to strike the public path, which we missed, and had to make our way by buffalo runs, which penetrated the tall thick grass like tunnels. Along these we had to proceed nearly doubled up, occasionally caught and almost choked by creepers, drenched by the dank grass overhead, and knee-deep in miry clay. By dint of keeping the sun before us, we succeeded in reaching Tahmeylon by noon. Beyond this, the course of the river winds in a remarkable manner, doubling successive long tongues of land, and enclosing a large island overgrown with impenetrable jungle, until the village of Maloolah is reached, on the left bank. The villagers warned us to moor our boats for the night at some distance from the bank for fear of tigers, which are numerous, and attack boats near the bank, and even the villages, at night. In the neighbouring village of Tsitgna, ten of the inhabitants had been killed by tigers in the preceding twelve months. We crossed the stream in the morning in a dug-out, intending to shoot peafowl in the forest which covered the rising ground on the right bank, but the margin of the forest proved so swampy as to prevent all access. Jungle fowl and squirrels were numerous, and our servants reported hog-deer. We rejoined the boats at the outflow of the Manloung stream, having breakfasted at the pagodas of Old Tsampenago. A labyrinth of streams and swamps extends on the right bank to the place where a branch of the Tapeng flows round and joins the Manloung stream. On the left bank the forest is dense and high, and beyond it rises the irregular outline of the Kakhyen hills, gradually becoming more distinct as Tsitkaw is approached. At this village we found a khyoung outside the stockade prepared for our accommodation, and the baggage was stored in a large shed used for the storage of the royal cotton. A Burmese guard, under the command of the tsare-daw-gyee, formed a cordon around our residence, and by night had erected a number of huts, while their fires formed a circle within which no robbers nor tigers were likely to penetrate.
At five in the afternoon of the next day, Browne, Margary, and Allan arrived from Bhamô, which they had left at 10.30. The necessity of avoiding the network of streams and swamps had obliged them to cross the river three times in boats, while the two led horses and the ponies swam across.