We have already described the way in which rice is cultivated in a land where the success of the rice-crops means life to thousands of people. It is not surprising to find, under these circumstances, that before the planting of the rice takes place there is held each year a ceremony of great importance. This is a "ploughing festival," and until the holiday has been celebrated no one is supposed to begin the cultivation of his rice-fields.

THE ANNUAL RICE PLOUGHING FESTIVAL. Page 65.

About March or April the rains arrive, and the farmer turns his thoughts to the work that lies before him. An astrologer is consulted as to a lucky day for the ploughing festival, and when this has been fixed every one waits anxiously to see what will happen, for on this day much will be learned about the prospects of the coming season.

A certain Prince presides over the festival, and for the time being represents the King. He wears a crown, has a royal umbrella, and even receives a portion of the taxes. At one time his personal servants and followers were allowed to take goods without paying for them from the shops along the route which is followed by the procession.

Early in the morning the Prince rises and puts on a special suit of clothes of the richest material. Over his robes he wears a long cloak of white net which is heavily embroidered with figures of fruit and flowers, worked in gold and silver. Before he leaves his house he entertains his friends, so that they may get a good look at him in all his holiday finery. When he is quite ready he sits in a gilded chair, and is carried on the shoulders of eight stalwart men. He is accompanied by a crowd of noblemen, some of whom carry curious things that are considered necessary for the success of the fÊte. Amongst these are a royal umbrella, a large fan such as the priests carry, a sword decorated with white flowers, and a small gold cow with a wreath of sweet-smelling blossoms round its neck.

In front of the state chair there are men in scarlet coats and knickerbockers, beating the usual drums in the usual way. Soldiers in old-fashioned uniforms, priests in yellow robes, nobles in cloth of gold, and men and women of all classes dressed in the brightest colours, pass slowly along in front of the bearers. Behind the chair are more priests who blow weird sounds from horns and conch-shells, and last of all a long string of sight-seers, all of whom are interested in what is going to happen.

With much merry noise, the procession wends its way to a piece of ground outside the city walls. Here a few simple preparations have been made. There is a roofed-in platform made of bamboo, attap-leaf, and boards, and some rather soiled drapery of red and white cloth. In front of the open booth are three bamboo-stakes, firmly fixed in the ground, and marking out the space which the Prince has to plough. In a shed not far away are the cream-coloured bullocks that are to draw the plough. A cord of sacred cotton encircles the booth, the shed, and the selected ground, and, as usual, keeps out all the evil spirits, who are simply aching to get inside the thread, play tricks, and upset the proceedings.

Within the guarded area is the wooden plough, similar to that described in the last chapter, but gaily decorated with ribbons and flowers. Moreover, the ends of the yoke and the end of the beam are both beautifully carved, and where the yoke is fastened to the beam there is a little gilded idol.

When the Prince arrives on the ground he is shown three pieces of cloth. They are folded up neatly, and look exactly alike, but they differ in length. The Prince looks earnestly at the three little parcels, and chooses one. If he chooses the longest piece of cloth, then there will be little rain that year, and men will be able to let the panoong drop to the ankle. If he chooses the shortest, a wet season will follow, and the men who work in the wet rice-fields will have to pull the panoong high above the knee. Having chosen the cloth, he fastens it round his body, and is ready to begin ploughing. He holds the handle of the plough and a long rod at the same time, and he has to guide the plough nine times round the space marked out by the three bamboos. A nobleman walks in front of the bullocks, sprinkling consecrated water on the ground. After the third journey a number of old women take part in the performance. They are the very oldest women that can be found, but they are richly dressed, and when their work for the day is done, they are allowed to keep their dresses as payment for their services. They carry a gilded rod over the shoulder. From the ends of this rod are suspended two baskets, one gilded and the other silvered. The baskets are filled with consecrated grain. Three times more the plough is guided along the proper path, the women following the Prince, and scattering the precious seed to right and left. Everybody tries to get a few grains to mix with the ordinary seed that is to be used in sowing the fields; for if the consecrated seed be mixed with seed of the ordinary kind, then will the harvest be much richer.

Finally, the Prince makes three more journeys, after which he leaves the ground. The sacred cord is broken, and the people rush about all over the place, picking up any of the grains that they can find, and carefully treasuring them for the good luck they will bring.

But the ceremony is not yet over. There still remains one very important deed to be done. The oxen are unyoked and led back to their shed, and in front of them are placed small baskets made of banana-leaves, and filled with different kinds of seed. One basket contains rice, another grass-seed, another maize, and so on. If the bullocks eat up the maize and leave the rice, then the rice-crops that year will be poor, and the maize-crops will be good. Thus it happens that on this day the farmer finds out what kind of weather he is going to have, and what kind of grain will yield the richest crop.

The Prince is carried back to his home again, with drums beating, horns blowing, and with the same attendant crowd of soldiers, priests, nobles, and peasants. Once upon a time the people really believed in the ceremony, and what it was supposed to tell them. Even now many thousands of them have great faith in the acts that have been performed; but as education spreads, the belief in these quaint and picturesque ceremonies will die out. It will, however, be long before they are entirely given up, for they provide opportunities for a merry holiday; and if there is one thing a Siamese loves more than another, it is a day of feasting and merriment, a day when work is thought of as something belonging only to the morrow.