The dress of the Laotians differs little from that of the Siamese. The people wear the langouti and a little red cotton waistcoat, or often nothing at all. Both men and women go barefoot: their head-dresses are like the Siamese. The women are generally better-looking than those of the latter nation: they wear a single short petticoat of cotton, and sometimes a piece of silk over the breast. Their hair, which is black, they twist into a knot at the back of the head. The houses are built of bamboos and leaves interwoven and raised upon stakes, and underneath is a shelter for domestic animals, such as oxen, pigs, fowls, &c.

The crossbow and sarbacane are the arms used in hunting, as well as a kind of lance made of bamboo, and sometimes, but more rarely, the gun, with which they are very skilful.

In the hamlet of Na-LÊ, where I had the pleasure of killing a female tiger, which with its partner was committing great ravages in the neighbourhood, the chief hunter of the village got up a rhinoceros-hunt in my honour. I had not met with this animal in all my wanderings through the forests. The manner in which he is hunted by the Laotians is curious on account of its simplicity and the skill they display. Our party consisted of eight, including myself. I and my servants were armed with guns, and at the end of mine was a sharp bayonet. The Laotians had bamboos with iron blades something between a bayonet and a poignard. The weapon of the chief was the horn of a sword-fish, long, sharp, strong, and supple, and not likely to break.

Thus armed, we set off into the thickest part of the forest, with all the windings of which our leader was well acquainted, and could tell with tolerable certainty where we should find our expected prey. After penetrating nearly two miles into the forest, we suddenly heard the crackling of branches and rustling of the dry leaves. The chief went on in advance, signing to us to keep a little way behind, but to have our arms in readiness. Soon our leader uttered a shrill cry as a token that the animal was near; he then commenced striking against each other two bamboo canes, and the men set up wild yells to provoke the animal to quit his retreat.

A few minutes only elapsed before he rushed towards us, furious at having been disturbed. He was a rhinoceros of the largest size, and opened a most enormous mouth. Without any signs of fear, but, on the contrary, of great exultation, as though sure of his prey, the intrepid hunter advanced, lance in hand, and then stood still, waiting for the creature’s assault. I must say I trembled for him, and I loaded my gun with two balls; but when the rhinoceros came within reach and opened his immense jaws to seize his enemy, the hunter thrust the lance into him to a depth of some feet, and calmly retired to where we were posted.

The animal uttered fearful cries and rolled over on his back in dreadful convulsions, while all the men shouted with delight. In a few minutes more we drew nearer to him; he was vomiting pools of blood. I shook the chief’s hand in testimony of my satisfaction at his courage and skill. He told me that to myself was reserved the honour of finishing the animal, which I did by piercing his throat with my bayonet, and he almost immediately yielded up his last sigh. The hunter then drew out his lance and presented it to me as a souvenir; and in return I gave him a magnificent European poignard.

The MÉnam-Moune at PimaÏ is 75 metres wide in the dry season; in the rainy season it is from 6 to 7 metres in depth. There are in this district iron, lignites, and trunks of petrified trees lying on the ground, which even from a very short distance look like fallen trees in a natural state.

Mgi-Poukham, inhabited by the SouÉs, is six days’ journey from Korat in a south-easterly direction.

In the dry season the navigation of the river is impeded by sandbanks: at some points the stream is tolerably wide, but in others choked with sand.

From Korat to PimaÏ, on an elephant, occupies two days: from Korat to Thaison, two; to Sisapoune, two; to Josoutone, two days; to Oubon, four days; to Bassac, four.

Direction E.N.E. from Korat; PoukiÉau, N. of Chaiapume; Pouvienne, ten degrees E. of Chaiapume; Dong-kaÏe, N.E. by E. of Chaiapume; M. Louang Prabang, N. of Chaiapume.

From Chaiapume to Vien-Tiane is fifteen days’ journey on foot towards the N. and nine degrees E. M. LÔm, N.W. of Chaiapume; Petchaboune, W.N.W. of Chaiapume; Bassac, E.S.E.

Bane Prom, a mountain situated in a valley nine miles across, is nearly 300 metres high. Bane Prom, a town. Menam Prom, a river nearly 2 metres deep and 40 wide, rises in M’LÔm, and empties itself in the Menam Chie, in the province of Koukhine. Bane-Rike, between PoukiÉau and Kone-Sane, four geographical leagues from each place. Menam-Rike is a torrent which empties itself into the Prom.

The vegetation is monotonous—everywhere resinous trees, chiefly of small size. There is a complete absence of birds; insects are in great number and variety, musquitoes and ox-flies in myriads. I suffer dreadfully from them, and am covered with swellings and blisters from their bites; and they torment our beasts so much that we sometimes fear it will drive them mad. The sensibility of the skin of the elephant is extraordinary, but these creatures are very skilful in brushing off their tormentors by means of a branch held in their trunks. I do not know what would become of me without these good and docile animals, and I cannot tell which to admire most, their patience or intelligence.

From Kone-Sane to Vien-Tiane is eight good days’ journey in a north-easterly direction.

To M’LÔm, four days W.N.W.

To Petchaboune, four days W.S.W.

To KÔrat, four days E.S.E.

To Chaiapume, four days E.S.E.

To PoukiÉau, four days E.S.E.

To Leuye, three days’ rapid travelling N.N.E. over mountains.

From Kone-Sane to KoukhÈne, two days’ rapid journey E.S.E.

From KoukhÈne to Chenobote, one day’s journey S.E.

On the road from Kone-Sane to Leuye, near the former place, is a stream called OuÉ-Mouan, and a torrent, OuÉ-Kha.

Bane-Nayaan, a village, five geographical leagues off, two days’ journey, with high mountains to cross, difficult of ascent for the elephants. On the first day your course is over peaked mountains, volcanic, and like those of the Khao Khoc. The next day you meet with calcareous and volcanic hills; in the valleys sandstone, jungle, and fertile ground.

Mgi-LÔm, four days’ journey west of Bane-Nayaan. From this last place to Bane-Napitone runs the stream OuÉ-Yan.

Menam-Fon-Khau, passed over twice, a geographical league.

In the provinces of Kone-Sane and of Leuye a great number of the inhabitants are affected with goÎtre. Is this caused by the water from the mountains and the mineral substances with which it is impregnated? I suppose so.

From Bane-Napitone to B. Proune you have to cross high mountains. Half way up one of these is a fine view extending over a wooded plain to the north-west in the direction of Nong KhaÏ, and bounded at a distance of twenty-five or thirty miles by a chain of mountains; whilst in every other direction you are surrounded by hills varying in height from 300 to 900 feet. The sandstone and chalky rocks of these heights have taken most picturesque forms.

From B. Proune to B. ThiassÈne runs a stream five leagues long, in a north-westerly direction, and which is navigable for boats. It flows on towards Leuye, and empties itself in the Mekon at M. Sione-Kane, which is ten degrees N.N.E. of N. ThiassÈne. From B. Thienne to Leuye are hills easy to climb, with vegetation similar to those of Chantaboune and Brelum, forests of bamboo: the rocks are calcareous, with a small mixture of sandstone.

The Menam-Rope and Menam-Ouaie are two large rivers, deep in the rainy season, which empty themselves into the Menam-Leuye: also several torrents. Villages: Bane-Kataname, Bane-Poune, Bane-Nahane, Bane-Pathiou.

From Bane-Thienne to Nong Khane you go in an easterly direction. Bane-Poua is the first village in a four days’ journey: here are forests, jungles, and a small hill. The plain is barren and desolate in appearance.

Towns and provinces of Louang Prabang in coming down: Thienne-Khane, Nong-KaÏe, SaÏabouri, OutÈne, Lakhone-Penome, Mouke-Dahane, Emarate, and Bassac.

I am literally pillaged by these petty mandarins and chiefs of villages, and have to give away guns, sabres, lead, powder, colours, pencils, and even my paper; and then, after having received their presents, they will not put themselves out of their way to do me the smallest service. I would not wish my most deadly foe, if I had one, to undergo all the trouble and persecution of this kind which I have encountered.

The Laotian priests are continually praying in their pagodas; they make a frightful noise, chanting from morning to night. Assuredly they ought to go direct to Paradise.

Between OuÉ-SaÏe and Thienne-Khane the villages are: Bane-Tate, B. OuÉ-Sake, B. Na-Saor, B. Poun, B. Na-PouÉ, Nam-Khane, near B. NmÏen; near Kenne Thao, between Bane Nam-Khane and Bane-Noke, is a torrent called Nam-Kheme.

Observations taken at KÉte-Tao: Vienne-Thiane, eastward; Mg. Nane, N.N.W.; Tchieng-MaÏe, N.W.; Louang Prabang, N. of Kenne Thao.

Mg. Dane-Saie, four days’ journey W.S.W. of Bane-Mien; LÔme, four days’ journey W.S.W. of Bane-Mien.

Villages: Bane ThÈne, Nha-Kh—two roads; NÂ-Thon—two roads; NÂ-Di, NÂ-Moumone, NÂ-Ho, Bane MaÏe, B. Khok.

The river Menam-Ouan runs in a north-westerly direction to within a day’s journey of the Menam-Sake. A high mountain lies between them.

In LÔme the villages are: Bane Tali, B. Yao, B. Khame, B. PouksiÉau, B. Name-BongdiÉau, B. Nong-Boa, B. Na-Sane-Jenne, B. Nam-Soke, B. Ine-Uun, Dong-SaÏe, Bane Vang-Bane, B. Nang-Krang, Mg. LÔme-Kao, Bane KouÉ-Nioune. Between M. LÔme-MaÏe and Thiene-Khame are Bane OuÉ-SaÏe, B. Rate, B. Na-ShÎ, B. OuÉ-Pote, B. Na-Sao, B. Loke, B. Na-NiaÔ, Thiene-Khame.

Between Kenne Thao and Bane Mien are B. Kone KhÊne, B. Pake-OuÉ, B. KhÈne-Toune.

The Mekon is ten leagues east of Kenne Thao.

M. PhitchaÏe eight days’ journey west from Bane-Nmien.

At Bane-Nmien I found the Laotians even more ungrateful and egotistical than elsewhere; they not only will give you nothing—one has no right to expect it—but after taking presents from you, they will make you no return whatever.

The Menam-Ouan rises at Dane-SaÏe, S.S.W. from Kenne Thao, and joins the Mekon E.N.E. from that town.

From Kenne Thao to Louang Prabang is a distance of seven geographical or ten ordinary leagues, and a journey of ten or eleven days, quick travelling.

Mg. Pakhaie is north of Kenne Thao. From this place to Bane-Na-Ine is one day’s journey; to Bane-Moun-Tioum two days.

Near this latter place, where I have found a greater number of insects than anywhere else in my travels here, is the river Nam-Shan. It is a continual ascent to this part.

Near Bane-Na-Ine auriferous quartz occurs. The jungle here is thick.

Villages in the neighbourhood of Moun-Tioume, consisting of from fifteen to thirty huts: Bane-Hape, a league to the north; Rape-JÂ, the same distance southwards; Tate-Dine, one league to the north-east; Nam-Poune, half a league south-east.

In Bane Moun-Tioume are twenty-six houses.

Route from B. Moun-Tioume to B. Kouke-NiÉou:—This last village is composed of eighty houses. There is in it an abandoned pagoda, and it is environed by woods and hills. A stream, called the Nam-Peniou, flows past it and joins the Nam-Shan. There is plenty of rice on the hills, but not in the plains.

From Bane-Kouke-NiÉou[7] there are continual hills. We are tormented by immense numbers of leeches and ox-flies. The jungle is as thick as in Dong Phya Phai. We passed the night on the banks of a stream, the Nam-KoÏe, which we had several times crossed, but could get no sleep on account of the leeches; and the following night, by the same river, we were equally pestered.

Bane-OuÉ-Eu is a small hamlet in the immediate vicinity of Kouke-NiÉou-PaklaÏe, a very pleasant town, apparently prosperous. The houses are clean and elegant.

PaklaÏe is two geographical leagues distant from Muang-Moune-WÂ. The district is very mountainous, with rice-grounds on some of the slopes. We several times had to cross the LaÏe, which is 35 metres wide, and rushes along like a torrent, with a great noise. There are, about here, many precipices. It was wonderful to see the elephants climb, descend, and hang on by their trunks to the rocks without ever making a false step.

I have quite an admiration and regard for these noble animals. How remarkable are their strength and intelligence! What should we have done without them amidst these vast forests and rugged mountains?

Mgi-Roun, district of M. Louang, a day’s journey W.N.W. of Mgi-Moune-WÂ; there are seventy houses in it.

The villages near to Moune-WÂ are Bane-Bia, 2 miles westward; Bane-Name-Pi, two days’ journey; ThiÊme-KhÂne, one day; B. Nam-Kang, one day. These villages are all on the road from Mgi-Moune-WÂ to PhixaÏe. This place lies W.S.W. from Muang-Moune-WÂ, and five days’ journey off, and three days’ journey from Nam-Pate. The country between Mgi-Moune-WÂ and Nam-Pate is mountainous; from the latter place to PhixaÏe is also hilly ground, and is part of the direct line from Bangkok to Mgi-Louang.[8]

From Mgi-Moune-WÂ to Bane-Nakhau is a good day’s journey over a mountain country, through woods of resinous trees and high grass; but the jungle predominates. Auriferous sand occurs in the Nam-Poune; also, though less rich, in the Nam-Ouhan and other streams.

Bane-PhÊke and B. Nalane lie between B. Nakhan and Mgi-Nam-Poune.

Mgi-Nane is six days’ journey W.N.W. of Moune-WÂ. The first day, to Mgi-Roun; second day, through woods and crossing streams, to Nan-Pi (here are black-bellied Laotians); third day, Bane-Khune; fourth day, Bane-Dhare; fifth day, B. Done; sixth day, Tuke.

3rd September.—We left Bane-Nakhau, and arrived about midday at a rice-field, where we passed the night. All the women here have goÎtres, often enormous and most repulsive. Even young girls of nine or ten are to be seen with them, but rarely the men.

About Tourair there are woods and thick jungles, and the river Nam-Poune, 60 metres broad, runs near. The hills here are of moderate height. I saw some pretty young girls with intelligent faces; but before the females attain the age of eighteen or twenty their features become coarse, and they grow fat. At five-and-thirty they look like old witches.

Two rivers unite here, the Nam-Poune from the west, and the Nam-Jame from the north.

On my route from B. Nakhau to B. Na-LÊ, I spent the night of the 4th of September in a hut at B. Nakone. On the 5th I reached B. Na-LÊ, passing through several hamlets, Na-Moune, Na-Koua, and Na-Dua. Bane-Na-LÊ contains only seven houses.

The streams are, first, the Nam-Jame, crossed and recrossed several times; the Nam-QuÊme, Nam-Itou, Nam-PÂne; the Nam-Khou, near Bane-Nakone.

The road lies across high mountains, with jungles full of monkeys uttering their plaintive cries. I was told of a royal tiger at Na-LÊ, which, in the space of four months, had killed two men and ten buffaloes. I had the satisfaction of killing the tigress.

5th September, 1861.—From this date M. Mouhot’s observations cease; but until the 25th of October he continued to keep his meteorological register.

The last dates inscribed in his journal are the following:—

20th September.—Left B......p.

28th.—An order was sent to B...., from the council of Louang Prabang, commanding the authorities to prevent my proceeding farther.

15th October. 58 degrees Fahr.—Set off for Louang Prabang.

16th.—....

17th.—....

18th.—Halted at H....

19th.—Attacked by fever.[9]

29th.—Have pity on me, oh my God....!

These words, written with a trembling and uncertain hand, were the last found in M. Mouhot’s journal. His faithful Phrai asked him several times if he did not wish to write anything to his family, but his invariable answer was, “Wait, wait; are you afraid?” The intrepid traveller never for one moment thought that death was near; he had been spared so far, and he doubtless thought he should recover, or he might have made an effort to write again. He died November 10th, 1861, at 7 o’clock in the evening, having been previously insensible for three days, before which time, however, he had complained of great pains in his head. All the words which he uttered during the delirium of the last three days were in English, and were incomprehensible to his servants.

He was buried in the European fashion, in the presence of his two servants, who never left him. It is the custom of the country to hang up the dead bodies to the trees, and there leave them.

This account of the last illness of my dear brother I received from his friends at Bangkok, particularly Dr. Campbell, to whom his two faithful servants hastened at once to give all details. His collections and other property they took to M. d’Istria, the French consul. Dr. Campbell kindly took charge of the manuscripts, and transmitted them to his widow in London.

The family of M. Mouhot have already expressed their gratitude to those who were useful and kind to the traveller. The two good servants who remained with him to the last also merit their thanks; and, if these lines should fall into the hands of Phrai, I wish him to know how much gratitude and esteem we feel for him, and for his companion Deng. We wish them every happiness in return for their devotion to my dear brother.

C. Mouhot.