Henri Mouhot

Return to Bangkok—Preparations for a new Expedition to the North-East of Laos—Phrabat—Pakpriau—SaohaÏe.

After a sojourn of four months among the mountains of Pechaburi, known by the names of Makaon Khao, Panam Knot, Khao Tamoune, and Khao Samroun, the last two of which are 1700 and 1900 feet above the level of the sea, I returned to Bangkok to make the necessary preparations for my new expedition to the north-east of Laos, my intended route being to the basin of the Mekong, towards the frontier of China. I had an additional motive for coming here again, namely, to get cured of that annoying complaint the itch, which I caught at Pechaburi; how, I really cannot guess, for, in spite of the mosquitoes, I bathed regularly two or three times a day; but I hope that a short course of rubbing with sulphur ointment, and proper baths, will effect a cure. This, one of the ills of a traveller’s life, is, however, trifling in comparison with the misfortune of which I have just heard. The steamer ‘Sir James Brooke,’ in which Messrs. Gray, Hamilton, and Co., of Singapore, had sent off all my last boxes of collections, has foundered at the entrance of that port. And so all my poor insects, which have cost me so much care and pains for many months, are lost for ever—some of them rare and valuable specimens, which, alas! I shall probably never be able to replace.

It is the season of fÊtes; the stream is covered with large and handsome boats, decorated with gilding and carved work, with true oriental gorgeousness; and among them the heavy barges of the rice-merchants, or the small craft of poor women going to the market with bananas and betel-nuts. It is only on festivals, and a few other occasions, that the king, princes, and mandarins display their riches and importance. The king was on his way to a pagoda to offer presents, followed by his whole court. Each of the mandarins was in a splendid barge, the rowers being dressed in the most brilliant colours. A number of pirogues were filled with soldiers in red coats. The royal barge was easily to be distinguished from the rest, by the throne surmounted by a canopy terminating in a pinnacle, and by the immense quantity of carving and gilding about it. At the king’s feet were some of his children, and he waved his hand to every European whom he saw.

All the ships at anchor were adorned with flags, and every floating house had an altar covered with various objects, and with odoriferous woods burning on them. Amidst all these fine barges, one was remarkable for its simplicity, and the good taste with which the rowers were dressed,—a uniform of white cloth, with red cuffs and collar. It belonged to Khrom Luang, the king’s brother, a good, courteous, and intelligent prince, ever ready to protect Europeans to the utmost of his power; in a word, a gentleman.

Most of the dignitaries, generally fat men, were lying lazily on triangular embroidered cushions, in their splendid boats, upon a kind of dais, surrounded by officials, women, and children, kneeling, or lying flat, in readiness to hold out the golden urns which serve them for spittoons, or their betel-boxes or teapots, all made of the same precious metals by the goldsmiths of Laos and Ligor. The boats have generally from eighty to a hundred rowers, with the head and greater part of the body bare, but wearing a large white scarf round the loins, and a brilliant red langouti; they all raise their paddles simultaneously, and strike the water in regular time, while at the prow and stern are stationed two other slaves, one dexterously managing a long oar which serves as a rudder, the other on the watch to prevent a collision with any other boat. The rowers continually raise a wild, exulting cry, “Ouah! ouah!” while the steersman utters a louder and more prolonged one, which rises above the voices of the rest. Many boats also are to be seen crowded with women, musicians, or parties carrying presents. The coup d’oeil is certainly charming.

From time to time appears, amidst the picturesque assemblage, the boat of some European, always to be recognised by his “chimney-pot” or silk hat.

All these scenes passed rapidly away, and, before long, I could only hear the distant sounds of the music, and see a few scattered boats adorned with streamers, passing up or down the river, being often skilfully managed by girls and very young children, who amused themselves by racing. It is evident, from the careless gaiety of these people, that they do not suffer the frightful poverty but too often met with in our large cities. When his appetite is satisfied—and, for that, all that is necessary is a bowl of rice, and some fish seasoned with capsicum—the Siamese is lively and happy, and sleeps without care for the morrow; he is, in fact, a kind of Lazzaroni.

My friend M. Malherbes accompanied me for a few hours’ sail from Bangkok, and then we parted with a warm clasp of the hand, and, I confess, not without tears in both our eyes, trusting that destiny might reunite us here or elsewhere. My friend’s light boat glided rapidly down the stream; in a few minutes he was out of sight, and I was again left alone—for how long a period being quite uncertain. I rarely allow myself to dwell on the subject; but separations are painful to the traveller who has left behind him all he holds most dear in the world,—family, country, home, and friends,—to visit countries inhospitable, and in many ways dangerous, without comfort or companionship. It is equally painful to think that, during long months, his impatient family are living in anxiety, and forming a thousand conjectures as to his fate. I know what awaits me, having been warned both by the missionaries and the natives. During the last twenty-five years, only one man, as far as I know, a French priest, has penetrated to the heart of Laos, and he only returned to die in the arms of the good and venerable prelate, Mgr. Pallegoix. I know the discomfort, fatigue, and tribulations of all sorts to which I am again about to expose myself; the want of roads, the difficulty of finding means of conveyance, and the risk of paying for the slightest imprudence by a dangerous or even fatal illness. And how can one be prudent when compelled to submit to the hardest life of the forest, to suffer many privations, and to brave all inclemencies of the weather? Nevertheless, my destiny urges me on, and I trust in the kind Providence which has watched over me until now.

Only a few hours before my departure from Bangkok, the mail arrived, and I received news of my dearly loved family, which consoled me for the misfortune I sustained in the loss of my collections. Thanks, thanks, my good friends, for the pleasure you gave me before starting, by the expression of your warm and constant affection; I shall not forget you in my solitude.

I shall continue during my journey to take notes of all my little adventures, very rare, alas! for I am not one of those travellers who kill a tiger and an elephant at one shot; the smallest unknown shell or insect is more interesting to me; however, on occasion, I do not object to a meeting with the terrible inhabitants of the forest, and more than one have known the range of my rifle and the calibre of my balls.

Every evening, enclosed in my mosquito curtains, either in some cabin or at the foot of a tree, in the jungle or by the river bank, I shall talk to you, my friends; you shall be the companions of my journey, and it will be my greatest pleasure to confide to you my impressions and thoughts.

Scarcely had my friend M. Malherbes left me, when I discovered, in the bottom of my boat, a box, which he had contrived to place, unknown to me, among my packages; a fresh proof of his kindness, for he had already sent me three cases when I was at Pechaburi. I found it to contain some dozens of Bordeaux, as much cognac, boxes of sardines, biscuits, and a number of other things, which would recall to me, were I ever likely to forget it, the true and considerate friendship of my countrymen, so valuable to one far from home.

This attendant of mine has one little defect, but who has not in this world? He now and then takes a drop too much, and I have often found him sucking, through a bamboo cane, the spirit of wine from one of the bottles in which I preserve my reptiles, or laying under contribution the cognac presented to me by my friend Malherbes. A few days ago he was seized with this devouring thirst, and, profiting by my absence for only a few minutes, he opened my chest, and hastily laid hands on the first bottle which presented itself, great part of the contents of which he swallowed at one gulp. I came back just as he was wiping his mouth with his shirt-sleeve, and it would be impossible to describe his contortions and grimaces as he screamed out that he was poisoned.

He had had the bad luck to get hold of my bottle of ink; his face was smeared with it, and his shirt pretty well sprinkled. It was a famous lesson for him, and I think it will be some time before he tries my stores again.

The wages I give at present are ten ticals each per month, which, allowing for exchange, amounts to nearly forty francs per month. This in any other country would be good pay; but here I should find great difficulty in finding any other men to accompany me, were I to offer them a tical a day.

I soon reached the mountains of Nephaburi and Phrabat, with their pure clear atmosphere, the weather being pleasant and a fresh wind blowing. All nature looks smiling, and I feel exhilarated and happy. At Bangkok I felt stifled and oppressed. That town does not awaken my sympathies. Here my heart dilates, and I could fancy I had grown ever so much taller since I arrived. Here I can breathe, I live, amid these beautiful hills and woods; in cities I seem to suffocate, and the sight of so great a number of human beings annoys me.

I stopped yesterday at Ayuthia to see Father Larmandy, and, after a night passed beneath his hospitable roof, proceeded on my way towards Pakpriau. The whole day after our departure we passed by fields and rice-plantations on both sides of the river. All the country, till within two miles of Ayuthia, is inundated; there, only, the ground begins to rise a foot above the waters. Already, in several places they are beginning to cut the rice, and in a fortnight the whole population, male and female, will be busy with the harvest.

At present most of them are availing themselves of the short time left them to enjoy the “far niente,” or visit the pagodas with offerings to the priests, which consist principally of fruit and yellow cloth; the latter intended to afford a supply of raiment for them while they are travelling; as, during several months of the dry season, they are allowed to quit their monasteries and go where they like.

October 20.—Having reached Thama Triestard at night, we slept at the entrance of the village, and early this morning I stopped my boat before the house of Khun Pakdy, the kind chief who, two years ago, accompanied me to Phrabat. The worthy man was not a little surprised to see me, and could scarcely believe his eyes, for he had heard that I had died at Muang-Kabuic. We soon renewed our acquaintance, and I was pleased to find that his regard for me, especially when stimulated by a glass of cognac, had survived the lapse of time. Poor Khun Pakdy! if I were King of Siam—which Heaven forbid!—I would name you Prince of Phrabat, or rather resign my throne to you.

He gave immediate orders to prepare breakfast for me; then, on finding that I was going to Korat, he remembered that he had promised again to be my companion if I brought him a gun from Bangkok. “If it were only worth three ticals it would do,” said he; but seeing only the same percussion guns, “You have not brought me one,” he observed; “but never mind, I will go with you all the same.” It was only when I told him that I should make but a very short stay at Korat, and intended to proceed farther on into places where he would doubtless have to “tighten his belt,” and that I did not wish him to lose his comfortable mandarin’s embonpoint, that I succeeded in checking his enthusiastic devotion. But when he heard that we should be obliged to sleep among the woods by the light of the stars, he turned the conversation.

As soon as we had breakfasted I returned to my boat to escape his rather too demonstrative conversation, and the noisy eulogiums he continued to pour upon me.

From hence are visible the beautiful chain of hills which extend from Nephaburi, and which, I conjecture, join those of Birmanie and the Deng mountains, which do not appear more than fifteen miles off, and awaken a host of agreeable recollections. I feel sure the fine season has arrived; the air is pure, the sky serene, and the sun shines almost constantly.

SaohaÏe, October 22.—I have not yet reached Pakpriau, and already I have met with, and begun to suffer from, the annoyances inevitable in a country like this, inundated during a great part of the year, and in which the means of travelling are so difficult to obtain, particularly when one is burdened with an extra, though indispensable, quantity of luggage.

During the two days I have been here I have lodged in the boat of a Chinese who was at first afraid to receive me; and I may consider myself fortunate in meeting with any resting-place. Yesterday I paid a visit to the governor, who resides in an old hut, repulsively dirty, about two miles from the spot where I landed. Although this is the most important place in Saraburi, this wretched dwelling, and a few scattered huts belonging to agriculturists, are all the houses I have seen; there is no bazaar, and no floating shops. From time to time petty merchants come to sell or exchange salt and other articles of absolute necessity; or a few Chinese with small stocks of langoutis, arrack, cloth, Siamese dresses, and bowls, which they barter for skins, horns, or rice. These dealers sometimes go as far as Boatioume.

The current was so strong, that in a quarter of an hour we reached the residence of the mandarin whose acquaintance I had made on my former journey, and who, in return for a present I had given him, had promised me, in the event of my going to Korat, to furnish me with even a hundred attendants, if I needed as many. I announced to him my intention of visiting Khao-Khoc, fixed upon two years ago by the King of Siam as a desirable place for a fortress to which he might retire, in case the too active Europeans should seize upon his capital—which, let me whisper, would be very easy to do, and would only require a handful of our brave Zouaves accustomed to an African sun.

I was all the better received by the mandarin, that I asked for nothing; for I had already engaged a boat, the owner of which wished to return to Khao-Khoc in two days. I had projected a trip to Patawi, but at this season the roads are impassable, so that I was forced to abandon the idea.

A great number of the inhabitants of this province are natives of Laos, and are principally captives brought from Vien Chang after the insurrection there. The provinces of Boatioume and Petchaboune are peopled by Siamese, for Laos proper only commences at M’LÔm. Boatioume, Petchaboune, SÔm, and some other provinces in the north and east, are governed by Siamese mandarins of rank more or less elevated; that is to say, several of them have the power of life and death, and are then considered as viceroys. The most distant provinces belong to the empire of Siam, and form a part of it.

Petchaboune is particularly noted for its tobacco, which is reckoned the best in Siam; and a commerce in this article is carried on with Bangkok in spite of the extreme difficulty of communication; for in the time of the inundations, when boats of some size are able to come up here, the contending against a very strong current is the labour of a month; while in the dry season only very small boats can be used, as, frequently, they have to be dragged over the sand, or carried past the rocks, which in many places cause rapids and obstruct the navigation. This commerce is chiefly in the hands of the Siamese of Petchaboune, who arrive at Pakpriau towards the end of the rainy season, to exchange their tobacco for betel and other articles.

The province of Saraburi is very populous, and in the southern districts a great quantity of rice is produced, but the quality of it is inferior to that of Pechaburi, which is considered very good, and is regularly bought by the Siamese dealers, who afterwards carry it to Bangkok. As is the case all over the country, there is great difficulty in arriving at a correct estimate of the population, which is scattered along the banks of the stream.

SaohaÏe is the starting-point for all the caravans going to Korat. Another road, from Muang-Kabuic, also leads to this ancient Cambodian town; but it is little frequented, except by the Laotians of the locality.

Whilst writing I was interrupted by the unexpected visit of the governor, who was on his way to a pagoda to make an offering of dried fruits, and passed an hour in my cabin. He was in a large and elegant pirogue more than 30 metres long, for which I would have given his house and all its appurtenances. He sent for the owner of the boat which was to take me to Khao-Khoc, and gave him some instructions for the chief of that place, adding, “I have sent no letter, because I know that M. Mouhot made himself respected when here two years ago, and will doubtless do the same there.” I could not but offer him some small presents in acknowledgment of this slight service, which might or might not be of use to me. I therefore gave him a pair of spectacles mounted in tortoiseshell, a bottle of scent, and one of brandy; and I prepared for him a sedative mixture, as he begged for some medicine for his rheumatism. Happy Raspail! who, with his “system,” can assuage suffering even in these distant lands.

In return, he promised to give me a pony when I wanted to go to Korat, besides other useless things; but he will probably forget these promises, for here it is the custom of the rich to accept everything even from the poorest, but very rarely to give away. However, were it not for peculation and presents, how could these mandarins live? Their salary—when they have one—would condemn them to a state of leanness which would not only drive them to despair, but cause them to be looked upon as unsuitable for their places.

Voyage to Khao-Khoc.—Dong Phya Phai (Forest of the King of Fire).

I am now en route for Khao-Khoc, in the boat of a Chinese merchant, a worthy person, who, luckily for me, does not intoxicate himself with opium or arrack. He intends going as far as Boatioume, but the current is so strong that I doubt if he will be able to proceed higher up the river than Khao-Khoc; for, in spite of his four rowers, and the aid of my two men—(I sent away my Laotian, who found it too great fatigue to row, and preferred sleeping and smoking)—we have been nearly carried away at every bend of the river and at the frequent rapids.

The weather, which I trusted was settled, has changed during the last three days, and every afternoon, about four or five o’clock, we have a violent shower. Last evening I was seized with a more severe headache than any I have had since I entered the country, and my first impression was that I had been attacked by fever, which, in the rainy season, there is so much cause to dread in the neighbourhood of Dong Phya Phai. It proceeded, however, only from the heat of the sun, to which I had been all day exposed, and was dissipated by the freshness of the night air at the prow of the boat. In the morning I felt as well as usual.

They tell me that to-morrow I shall see Khao-Khoc, and I shall not be at all sorry. The little boat is so encumbered with our united baggage, that the fraction of space left for me forces me to all sorts of constrained and uncomfortable positions; and these twelve days of tedious navigation have fatigued me much. And what a place this is! The air is damp, unwholesome, and dreadfully heavy; one’s head burns, while one’s body is at one time covered with perspiration, and at another a cold shivering comes on.

After four days of excessive toil we entered a gorge through which the river passes, which, even at this season, is here not more than 90 metres wide. Torrents of rain, bursting suddenly upon us, forced us to stop rowing, and take refuge under our roof of leaves. The rain lasted all night, and a wretched night it was for the poor men, who, having yielded to me the front of the boat, were all crammed together in the cabin, and, after all their fatigues under a burning sun, were unable to obtain a moment’s sleep, but lay groaning under the suffocating atmosphere and the attacks of legions of mosquitoes.

At daybreak about a hundred strokes of the oar brought us past a new bend in the river, and we found ourselves before Khao-Khoc. This place has, in my humble opinion, been badly chosen by the kings of Siam for their stronghold and retreat in case of an European invasion of the south. In the event of this occurring, they would abandon Bangkok; and, certainly, as whoever possesses that town is master of the whole country, no one would be likely to come and molest the kings in their solitude.

Two or three miles below Khao-Khoc I observed a kind of landing-place, and a house of mediocre appearance, bearing the pretentious appellation of palace, although built only of leaves and bamboo. This is Rabat Moi. At Khao-Khoc, although the second king often visits it, there is no landing-place, nor even steps cut in the steep banks to aid the ascent.

Immediately after landing I set off to look for a lodging, having been informed that I should find numerous vacant houses belonging to mandarins, amongst which I might make my choice. My men and I hunted amid the brushwood, often sinking up to our knees in mud, but could discover only seven or eight Laotian huts, the inhabitants of which form the nucleus of the population of this future stronghold, now peaceful and hospitable agriculturists, who would be deeply afflicted, and still more terrified, if ever their echoes should repeat the roar of cannon and varied sounds of war. As for the royal habitations, I could not reach them, for the whole ground, excepting a strip about fifty feet broad next the river, is a swamp; and the narrow paths are obstructed by bushes and tall grass, which had had time to grow during the six or eight months that have elapsed since the King has visited the place.

Not being able to find a lodging, some men from the village joined us, and we all set to work to cut down bamboos, with which to construct one, which was soon accomplished; and in this hut, open to every wind, we took up our abode.

I was told that a white elephant had just been taken in Laos, and had been sent off to Bangkok under the care of a mandarin.

All the inhabitants of the village, amounting perhaps to about fifty, have brought their children to me, begging for remedies; some for fevers, others for dysentery or rheumatism. I have not heard of any cases of leprosy here, as at Khao-TchioulaÜ, but the children are repulsively dirty; they are covered with a coating of filth, which makes them resemble little negroes, and the greater number of them are shaking with fever.

The site of my hut is in a valley, formed by a belt of mountain-chains, running from Nephaburi and Phrabat, and connected with those of the peninsula and of Birmah. Mount Khoc is distant a kilometre from the left bank of the river, and stretches out in the form of a semicircle, afterwards joining the mountains which run eastward towards Korat, and M’LÔm, and Thibet. Facing Mount Khoc, other mountains rise abruptly from the right bank, and then extend in an easterly direction.

As soon as my dwelling was finished, which was neither a long nor a costly job, we slung up three hammocks, and then betook ourselves to prepare a place for insect-catching, the end of the rainy season being the best time for this work. We accordingly cut down a great number of trees, a hard and painful task in this climate, where the sun, drawing up the humidity from all the surrounding marshes, makes one feel as if in a stove or hothouse; but our labours have been abundantly repaid by a rich harvest of specimens. Beetles of the longicorn tribe abound here; and to-day I have filled a box with more than a thousand new or rare insects. I have even been fortunate enough to replace some of the more valuable kinds which were destroyed or injured by sea-water on board the ‘Sir James Brooke.’ The villagers come every day to bring me “beasts,” as they call them, grasshoppers, scorpions, serpents, tortoises, &c., all presented to me at the end of a stick.

The sanitary condition of the place is dreadful. The rains are now less abundant, and the river has fallen more than twenty feet. They tell me that at Boatioume it is so narrow that the branches of the trees on the two banks touch and form an arch overhead. The mountains are of calcareous rock, and are covered with a fertile vegetation, but everywhere bear the traces of the water which anciently covered them. From the top you can imagine the former limits of the ocean, and see that the plain to the south was then submerged, and that all these heights formed capes or islands. I found close to their base, under a stratum of soil, banks of fossil coral and sea-shells in a good state of preservation.

The north wind now makes itself frequently felt, although the south-east and south-west winds resume their sway at times, and bring back the rain; but the heat of the nights gradually diminishes, and now, after three o’clock in the morning, I can bear a covering, and am glad to wrap myself in my burnous. My two men suffer occasionally from attacks of intermittent fever, and often complain of cold in the stomach; indeed, death lays so many snares for us here, that he who escapes may think himself lucky.

At last we breathe a pure and delicious air. It is now mid winter; since the day before yesterday a fresh north wind has blown, and at night the thermometer has gone back to 18° centigrade. All the evening I have been walking by the river, wrapped in a warm burnous, with the hood up; and this is a pleasure I have not enjoyed since I was at Phrabat, two years ago.

One must have passed sleepless nights, suffocating with the extreme heat, in order to appreciate the comfort of sleeping under a woollen covering, and, above all, without the necessity of waging incessant war on the dreadful mosquitoes. Phrai and Deng wear their whole wardrobe both night and day, and I have seen them dressed in red flannel and with felt hats, when you might take them for Garibaldians, as far, that is to say, as their costume is concerned, for their appearance otherwise is far from warlike; however, they are not wanting in a kind of courage which has its own merit. They dance and sing round a good fire, and open their eyes with astonishment when I tell them that I have seen rivers larger than the Menam frozen over so hard that the heaviest vehicles could go upon them with safety,[4] and others on which whole oxen have been roasted;[5] and that men and animals often die of cold.

My little “Tine-Tine” says nothing, but creeps under my counterpane and sleeps at his ease; only if Phrai torments him by lifting the cover, he shows his teeth. Ungrateful being that I am, I have not yet spoken of this little companion who is so faithful and attached to me—of this pretty “King Charles,” whom I brought from home. All the Siamese, and especially those who have no children, are very fond of the little creature, notwithstanding their general aversion for dogs. Theirs, however, are usually half savage. I much fear that my poor dog will come to an untimely end, and be trampled under foot by some elephant, or devoured at a mouthful by a tiger.

For the last few days we have feasted; our provisions were beginning to fail, but the fish are now coming up the river, and we take them by hundreds. Certainly they are not much larger than sardines, but in an hour we took six or eight basketfuls, and my two boys have enough to do to cut off their heads and salt them.

All the children of the neighbourhood, most of whom are still kept at the breast, come frequently to bring me insects, in exchange for a button or cigarette, for it is a common thing for them to leave their mother’s breast to smoke. Were they not so dirty, they would be nice-looking; but I am afraid of touching them, lest I should again catch the itch.

The Laotian is as superstitious as the Cambodian, and perhaps more so than the Siamese. If a person falls ill of a fever, or, indeed, is ever so slightly indisposed, they believe it to be owing to a demon who has entered his body. If any matter in which they are engaged goes wrong, or an accident happens when hunting, fishing, or cutting wood, it is the fault of the demon. In their houses they carefully preserve some object, generally a simple piece of wood, or some parasitic plant, whose form they fancy bears a resemblance to some part of the human body; and this is constituted their household god, and prevents evil spirits from entering, or, at least, causes them speedily to depart.

Every day we go out on our collecting expeditions; but while we are seeking insects or birds, the sound of our voices, or the report of our guns, repeated by the mountain echoes, brings forth the wild beasts from their dens. Yesterday, after a long and fatiguing excursion, during which we had killed some birds and one or two monkeys, we were returning home quite worn out, when we reached a small clearing in the forest, and here I told my two boys[6] to take a little repose at the foot of a tree, while I went to hunt for insects.

Suddenly I heard a sound as of some animal gliding through the thick underwood. I looked round, at the same time loading my gun, and then crept quietly back to the tree where my servants lay asleep, when I perceived a large and beautiful leopard taking his spring to clear the brushwood, and pounce upon one of them as he lay all unconscious. I fired, the shot striking the animal in the right shoulder. He gave a tremendous leap, and rolled over among the bushes, which much embarrassed his movements. However, he was but wounded, and still dangerous, if my second ball did not kill, or at least cripple him. I fired again, and hit him between the shoulders; the ball lodged in the heart, and he fell dead almost instantaneously. The terror of my two poor followers, suddenly awakened by the report of my gun so close to their ears, was only equalled by their pleasure when they saw the creature extended lifeless before them.

The profound stillness of this forest, and its luxuriant tropical vegetation, are indescribable, and at this midnight hour impress me deeply. The sky is serene, the air fresh, and the moon’s rays only penetrate here and there, through the foliage, in patches, which appear on the ground like pieces of white paper dispersed by the wind. Nothing breaks the silence but a few dead leaves rustling to the earth, the murmur of a brook which flows over its pebbly bed at my feet, and the frogs answering each other on either side, and whose croaking resembles the hoarse barking of a dog. Now and then I can distinguish the flapping of the bats, attracted by the flame of the torch which is fastened to a branch of the tree under which my tiger-skin is spread; or, at longer intervals, the cry of some panther calling to its mate, and responded to from the tree-tops by the growling of the chimpanzees, whose rest the sound has disturbed.

With a sabre in one hand and a torch in the other, Phrai pursues the fishes in the stream, and he and his shadow reflected on the rocks and water, as he stands there making sudden darts, and crying out “hit” or “missed,” might easily be mistaken by the natives for demons.

I cannot shake off a feeling of sadness which a few hours of sleep and a long chase to-morrow will probably dissipate; yet, at the moment, I cannot forbear asking myself, how will this year end for me? Shall I accomplish all I have in view? shall I preserve that health without which I can do nothing? and can I surmount all the difficulties which oppose themselves to me, and of which not the least is the difficulty of finding any means of conveyance?

And you, my dear father, be not too anxious as to my fate, but preserve that tranquillity, hope, and love of God, which alone can make men strong and great: with this help and support, our reunion will not be long delayed. Courage then, and hope! our perseverance and efforts will be recompensed. And thou, invisible link, which, in spite of distance, unites hearts, bear to all those dear to me a thousand embraces, and fill them with all those thoughts which at all times give me strength, and supply joy and consolation in my saddest and most dreary hours. To all, then, a happy new year! and may I bring back safe and sound my poor young followers, who have been such faithful and devoted companions; and who, although already rather weakened by fever and incipient dysentery, are still full of gaiety and energy, and as much attached to me as ever.

Five or six leagues north of Khao-Khoc is Mount Sake, and two miles farther all habitations cease, and there is complete solitude as far as Boatioume. The banks become more and more picturesque; here are calcareous rocks, covered in places with a ferruginous crust, and whence flow streams endowed with petrifying properties, while hills, rising abruptly to a great height, contain grottoes ornamented by stalactites; there, are beds of sand, islands on which sport in the sun a crowd of iguanas; everywhere, a rich vegetation, mingled with tufts of bamboo, in which fight and squabble the chimpanzees, on whom Phrai exercises his skill, and which afford him a delicious repast.

We embarked in a very light pirogue, and, during the first day, passed the boats from Petchaboune, which had left Khao-Khoc the night before; for the current is still rapid, even though the water is so low that in many places you have to drag the boat over the sand, and poles have to be used instead of oars.

Tigers, which are rare at Khao-Khoc, are more common in the environs of Boatioume, where they destroy many of the cattle.