852 



THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



and fraternities from Ceylon were wel- 

 comed, given separate quarters to live in, 

 and permitted to ''write, wrangle and ex- 

 communicate each other to their heart's 

 content." The end of the 13th century 

 saw the fall of Pagan, and it has ever 

 since remained a deserted city. 



FI.OATING DEPARTMENT STORES ON THE 

 IRRAWADDY 



At Mandalay begins a journey into the 

 country of the hill tribes, at war with 

 each other till within a few years. It is 

 said that "head-hunting" has not even 

 now entirely ceased. From Mandalay 

 the journey up the river should, by all 

 means, be made by cargo steamer. 



Not only does the cargo boat stop at tiny 

 villages and at many points where one 

 sees no signs of a village, but she tows, 

 lashed alongside, a barge nearly as large 

 as herself. This barge and the great 

 after-deck of the steamer form one big 

 "department store." Space is rented to 

 native merchants, who go back and forth 

 each trip, supplying the native with every- 

 thing he needs, from sarongs to betel. 



Each merchant, in his few square feet of 

 allotted space, arranges his wares exactly 

 as in the little booth along the village 

 street. Hundreds of natives swarm 

 aboard at each stopping place, carrying 

 baskets and bags for their purchases. 



One is reminded every hour of the day 

 from how many and diverse elements is 

 to be welded the Burmese nation of the 

 future. All originating from the same 

 parent stock (except, perhaps, the Selung 

 tribe), the various tribes have through 

 the centuries contended for possession of 

 lands, hunting and fishing grounds, for 

 life of the simplest form, till their char- 

 acteristics have become as distinctive as 

 if of different races. 



There prevails, too, in most of the clans 

 a curious system of endogamy, which is 

 or was very strictly enforced. Only the 

 people who live in certain groups of 

 villages, for instance, may intermarry, or 

 in some cases only cousins are permitted. 

 The half-grown boys are separated from 

 the girls and are kept apart till married. 

 The Burmese, though in the ascendant, 

 are really one of many tribes making up 

 the population of Burma. 



THE MANY TRIBES THAT INHABIT BURMA 



Here are the stocky, picturesque Shans, 

 with their bright plaids, heavily bedecked 

 with brass and silver buttons, bells, and 

 other ornaments. The Kachin women 

 wear a score or more belts of narrow 

 hoops, stained black and falling over the 

 hips in a manner to require frequent ad- 

 justing. They come from the Shan 

 States to the East; are rather attractive 

 in form and feature; eaters of lizards, 

 of beetles, of snakes — in fact, of every- 

 thing except human flesh, which is for- 

 bidden. 



Here are (so-called) white Karens, 

 heavy and stolid and very dirty, of fairer 

 skin than the Burmese and with a more 

 distinctly Mongolian eye. They take 

 kindly to Christianity, whole villages at 

 a time, as also do the Red Karens, a 

 tribe less numerous, small and wiry, with 

 broad reddish faces. Heavy drinkers 

 these, somber in mien, formerly very 

 wild and savage, they have been reduced 

 from stealers of men to stealers of cattle. 



Here are men and women of many 

 clans or tribes, their characteristics in 

 form, features, and dress sufficiently 

 marked, but so varied and complex as to 

 render classification difficult except after 

 study and a longer acquaintance. 



The females of one branch of the 

 Karens and Palaungs wear brass rings 

 around their necks, arms, and legs, 

 weighing, it is said, 50 to 60 pounds. The 

 neck rings, as thick as the little finger, 

 are put on the girl in infancy, four or 

 five rings at first and others added as 

 fast as she grows, till 18 or 20 keep the 

 neck always stretched (see page 851). 



And so one journeys on and on, each 

 day bringing new scenes, new types of 

 people to study, and all at least 1,000 

 years behind the epoch in which we live. 

 Everywhere are pagodas — great pagodas, 

 little pagodas, all sorts and sizes of pago- 

 das, to fit the purses of the people who 

 sought to "gain merit" in their building. 



The Burman is not provident. If he 

 has money he spends it at once. He 

 builds a "rest home," a pagoda, a shelter 

 for a water- jar at the roadside for the 

 wayfarer, and keeps the jar filled with 

 water; always he gives to the monks, 



