IN BURMAH 337 



ivories I cannot say ; it is possible that the sight 

 would have induced a change of opinion. 



I enjoyed at one time the confidence of a village 

 headman, who for the modest stipend of Rs.8 per 

 mensem represented the Imperial Government in a 

 certain creek village on the Ngawoon river. He 

 was fond of a jungle trip, spoke a little Karen, and 

 was of obliging disposition ; the paddy lands behind 

 his village spread to the foot-hills of the range that 

 lies between the river and the Bay of Bengal, and the 

 crops suffered a good deal from pigs, sambhur and 

 other deer, and, the headman said, from elephants. 

 I never quite gathered whether his professed hostility 

 to elephants was due to a belief that no self-respecting 

 white man could die happy unless he could say he 

 had killed an elephant, or to the circumstance that 

 <c elephant is the very best meat " ; but the fact 

 remains that he would of his own initiative stand 

 over the spoor of an elephant wherever found and 

 lightly condemn the owner as the big-bellied thief 

 who had eaten acres and acres of poor men's paddy 

 last week, the week before, last month, any time that 

 sounded plausible to the end that I, his privileged 

 friend, might kill and destroy with a clear conscience 

 and a pocket immune from the law. He was a 

 helpful man : there are plenty like him. 



You may " happen on " elephants anywhere in 

 the forest-clad range of which I have been writing, 

 between the Ngawoon river and the sea, and, shy as 

 they are, you can approach them very closely on a 

 still day. If they are resting, leaning against trees, 



