AN ACCOUNT OF A JOURNEY ACROSS THE MALAY PENINSULA. 35 



side of the path were the ruins of a brick temple, which at one 

 time must have been rather an elaborate structure, and there 

 the men again made their obeisance. 



When we emerged from the bamboo jungle we struck a 

 stream coming from the S. E., shallow and about thirty feet 

 wide. On its left bank were three dilapidated huts, where 

 probably Chinamen or natives had resided while prospecting 

 the stream which is reported to carry gold. We followed this 

 stream — the Klong Pan Peng— for some distance, then crossed 

 and recrossed it several times, until we reached an open space 

 in which there was a rude hut called by MOUNG See u the house 

 of the father of the buffaloes." The rain cleared away, and we 

 had time to dry our clothes and cook some food before it set 

 in again, and continued all night. 



The soil here is deep and carries lofty trees with a rich and 

 thick undergrowth of trailing and twining plants. Ever since 

 leaving the bamboo jungle leeches lay thickly in wait for us, 

 but next day they surrounded us like besetting sins. On the 

 path in front one could see a perfect little forest of miniature 

 elephant trunks nodding on the ground, and no railway guard 

 catches the moving foot-board so cleverly as they catch the 

 traveller. In a clearing an attempt was was made to rid 

 ourselves of the enemy, but they boarded us quite as quickly 

 as we could throw them over. Few travellers pass this way, 

 and how these crowds get a living I do not know. 



Here and there, through this part of the jungle we came on 

 small pieces of green sward surrounded by large trees, and 

 sometimes we passed larger clearings. Evidently people had 

 at one time a habitation here, and even now, during the dry 

 season, herdsmen drive their cattle up from the lowland flats 

 of Burma to graze in these patches and in the bamboo jungle. 



About seven miles from the field of the father of the buffaloes, 

 this stream from the S. E., which we had followed and crossed, 

 joins a large stream from the N. E., and just at the junction of 

 the streams our path ran into the river. After half a day's 

 fruitless search for it on the further side of the river amidst 

 a constant downpour, we recrossed to a sand bank, on 

 which we threw up a hut. We were fortunate enough, during 



