Mixed Sport. 273 



that they could scarcely stand, and the end hairs of 

 their tails had disappeared. To get back to Myet-chin 

 was hopeless. Shoay-jah said about two miles off there 

 was a village where we had better remain for the 

 night, so we made for it, the beasts of burden limping 

 along, and we in no better plight. At last we got 

 there, taking four hours to traverse two miles. 

 Fortunately, the food in our baskets was all right, 

 but the beer on the pads had burst. Still, we had 

 some claret under shelter, and although it is a tipple 

 I care very little for, yet that night we thought it 

 delicious. But where was the village we sought ? 

 Utterly destroyed. The fire had demolished every 

 house, and the people were searching in the ashes for 

 their valuables, picking up here and there sticks which 

 would serve again in the reconstruction of their frail 

 edifices. Our lodge, a Zyat, situated under a peepul 

 tree, fortunately escaped. We were thinking of 

 adjourning there for the night, but the first rain of 

 the season burst upon us. It was a deluge. While the 

 lightning beat the best displays of fireworks that I 

 ever saw, the thunder reverberated again and again 

 and almost deafened us with its unequalled artillery. 

 There was no help for it. We put the women and 

 children under temporary shelter, and contented our- 

 selves with such protection from the elements as could 

 be found. Thankful enough were we all when day 

 broke. 



The Burmese are a strange people, easily depressed 

 and as easily elated. Over night they were despond- 

 ent; as the sun rose they were jubilant almost, 

 singing, and moving about as cheerfully as if nothing- 

 had happened, and no one could realise that they were 



T 



