﻿266 
  

  

  THE 
  NATIONAL 
  GEOGRAPHIC 
  MAGAZINE 
  

  

  AWAITING 
  THE 
  RETURN 
  OF 
  THE 
  EXPLORER 
  FROM 
  A 
  TRIP 
  

   INTO 
  THE 
  HILLS 
  (SEE 
  TEXT, 
  PAGE 
  255) 
  

  

  The 
  Lao 
  captain 
  of 
  this 
  house-boat 
  on 
  the 
  Meh 
  Ping 
  waits 
  

   patiently 
  on 
  the 
  roof 
  of 
  his 
  craft. 
  

  

  extent 
  that 
  almost 
  every 
  grain 
  is 
  moving, 
  

   and 
  this 
  in 
  the 
  midst 
  of 
  squatting, 
  betel- 
  

   nut 
  chewing, 
  and 
  expectorating 
  women, 
  

   surrounded 
  by 
  the 
  mangiest 
  fighting 
  dogs, 
  

   rotten 
  tomatoes, 
  cauliflower, 
  cabbages, 
  

   and 
  cucurbits. 
  

  

  Early 
  next 
  day 
  we 
  left 
  Monywa, 
  and 
  

   it 
  was 
  a 
  comfort 
  to 
  be 
  on 
  a 
  clean 
  boat 
  

   and 
  on 
  a 
  picturesque 
  river. 
  

  

  In 
  the 
  mornings 
  we 
  made 
  little 
  progress, 
  

   due 
  to 
  fog 
  which 
  hovered 
  over 
  the 
  river 
  

   sometimes 
  until 
  1 
  i 
  o'clock. 
  The 
  river 
  

   was 
  quite 
  low 
  at 
  this 
  season 
  (January), 
  

   and 
  as 
  the 
  channel 
  changes 
  considerably, 
  

   navigation 
  is 
  carried 
  on 
  with 
  difficulty. 
  

   We 
  learned 
  of 
  one 
  boat 
  being 
  aground 
  

  

  somewhere 
  up 
  the 
  river 
  

   and 
  we 
  were 
  to 
  help 
  it 
  

   into 
  deeper 
  water, 
  but 
  

   unluckily 
  we, 
  too, 
  became 
  

   stranded 
  on 
  a 
  sand 
  bank. 
  

   All 
  the 
  third-class 
  pas- 
  

   sengers 
  were 
  promptly 
  

   taken 
  ashore 
  in 
  rowboats, 
  

   and 
  after 
  an 
  hour 
  or 
  so, 
  

   when 
  the 
  boat 
  was 
  free, 
  

   they 
  were 
  again 
  brought 
  

   on 
  board. 
  

  

  What 
  a 
  scramble 
  up 
  

   the 
  steep 
  bank 
  of 
  the 
  

   river, 
  the 
  level 
  of 
  which 
  

   was 
  then 
  fifty 
  feet 
  lower 
  

   than 
  during 
  the 
  rainy 
  

   season. 
  

  

  LIFE 
  ON 
  A 
  BURMESE 
  RIVER 
  

  

  Against 
  the 
  gray 
  back- 
  

   ground 
  of 
  mud 
  the 
  gaily 
  

   colored 
  costumes 
  of 
  the 
  

   Burmese 
  men 
  and 
  women 
  

   were 
  wonderfully 
  pictur- 
  

   esque. 
  There 
  were 
  deep 
  

   purples, 
  green, 
  light 
  blue, 
  

   yellow, 
  dark 
  gray, 
  and 
  

   light 
  pinks, 
  with 
  an 
  oc- 
  

   casional 
  somber 
  yellow- 
  

   ish-brown 
  denoting 
  a 
  

   shaven 
  priest. 
  

  

  Many 
  a 
  peculiar 
  craft 
  

   passed 
  the 
  Shillong. 
  A 
  

   raft 
  came 
  floating 
  down 
  

   the 
  river 
  with 
  people 
  

   rowing 
  at 
  the 
  four 
  cor- 
  

   ners 
  and 
  a 
  house 
  in 
  the 
  

   center, 
  with 
  a 
  flagstaff 
  

   made 
  of 
  a 
  living 
  tree, 
  

   from 
  which 
  .fluttered 
  a 
  

   red 
  and 
  white 
  pennant. 
  Next 
  we 
  over- 
  

   took 
  a 
  big 
  house-boat 
  poling 
  up 
  the 
  river. 
  

   It 
  resembled 
  a 
  Chinese 
  junk, 
  about 
  forty- 
  

   five 
  feet 
  high 
  at 
  the 
  stern, 
  with 
  a 
  small 
  

   bridge 
  and 
  a 
  roof. 
  There 
  was 
  one 
  mast 
  

   in 
  front, 
  the 
  bow 
  was 
  forked 
  and 
  painted 
  

   yellow, 
  and 
  it 
  had 
  a 
  long 
  bamboo 
  cabin 
  

   in 
  the 
  center. 
  

  

  We 
  halted 
  at 
  Kalewa, 
  a 
  bazaar 
  town 
  

   prettily 
  situated 
  on 
  an 
  elevated 
  tongue 
  of 
  

   land 
  at 
  the 
  junction 
  of 
  the 
  Myttha 
  and 
  

   the 
  Chindwin. 
  The 
  one 
  street 
  runs 
  along 
  

   a 
  ridge 
  which 
  culminates 
  in 
  a 
  command- 
  

   ing 
  eminence 
  crowned 
  with 
  palms 
  and 
  

   pagodas. 
  High 
  peaks 
  rise 
  around 
  Kalewa, 
  

   whence 
  starts 
  the 
  famous 
  60-mile 
  Chinhill 
  

  

  