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.
Continued
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