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Afoot and Afloat in Burma 
 
Posing for the Camera 
 
 He does whatever the driver tells him to do. He knows the 
 
 words of command, like a soldier. 
 
 (See page 67) 
 
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 I Afoot and Afloat in | 
 Burma I 
 
 By A. H. Williams 
 
 I REVIEW AND HERALD PUBLISHING ASSOCIATION | 
 I Takoma Park, Washington, D. C. | 
 
 I PEEKSKILL, N. Y. SOUTH BEND, IND. I 
 
 'iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiijiii iiiiiifiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiriiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiirtiiiiiiiiiriiiiiii[rirnitiiiiiiiii= 
 
 PrintPd in V. 8. A. 
 

 Copyright, 1922, by 
 Review and Herald Publishing Association 
 
 FEB -7*22 
 
 i0)CI.A653836 
 
Contents 
 
 An Introduction to Burma 9 
 
 Where Aung Baw Lives and How He Works ... 15 
 
 On the Road Through the Fields ' 27 
 
 The Way Burmese Grow Paddj' 41 
 
 Palm Trees for Every Purpose 57 
 
 Making Good Elephants of Wild Ones 67 
 
 Floating Logs Down the River 75 
 
 The Way Your House Would Be Built 83 
 
 Getting Food from the Rivers 93 
 
 Buddhist Boys in the Monasteries 101 
 
 How Young Burmans Make Merry 113 
 
 By Canoe and Bullock Cart Through the Floods . . 123 
 
 With Ma Dwa at the Schoolhouse 145 
 
 Strange Burmese Ways of Helping the Sick 157 
 
 Building a Bamboo House 167 
 
 Canvassing on the River Launches 177 
 
 Market Day 189 
 
 Into the Shan Hills by Train and Caravan 203 
 
 In Conclusion 215 
 
^ 
 
 
 m 
 
 a ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
Full-Page Illustrations 
 
 Posing for the Camera 2 
 
 Up the Beautiful Salwin River 6 
 
 Burmese River Craft 8 
 
 Water Buffaloes and a Native Plow 14 
 
 A Burmese Footbridge 26 
 
 Betel-Nut Chewing 32 
 
 Planting Rice 40 
 
 A Land of Elephants, Palms, and Pagodas 56 
 
 Making Rope from Cocoanut Fiber 62 
 
 Elephant Moving Saw Logs 66 
 
 Log Raft on the Salwin River 74 
 
 A Native Sawmill 82 
 
 Burmese Natives at Home 88 
 
 Bluffs Along the Salwin River 92 
 
 Monks with Their Begging Bowls 100 
 
 Burmese Festivity 112 
 
 By Bullock Cart in Burma 122 
 
 Launch and Landing Place, Kamamaung Mission . . 130 
 
 Chapel, Kamamaung Mission 138 
 
 Hulling Rice at Kamamaung Mission 144 
 
 His First Day in School 148 
 
 Ready for the Meeting 156 
 
 Superstitious Burmese 162 
 
 Burmese House Thatched with Leaves 166 
 
 River Launches on the Salwin 176 
 
 Cover of Our Burmese Paper 182 
 
 Market Day in Burma 188 
 
 Karen Woman Wearing Brass Ornaments 194 
 
 A Common Sight in Burma 202 
 
 Burmese Racing Boats 208 
 
 Map of Burma 214 
 
 Missionaries' Home, Kamamaung Mission 220 
 
Ahuja, Rangoon 
 
 Burmese River Craft 
 
 These boats vary in size from a small canoe to a large boat 
 
 intended for carrying rice to the mills. 
 
 (See page 124) 
 
AN INTRODUCTION TO BURMA 
 
 Just across the Bay of Bengal in India, 
 its next-door neighbor, is Burma. It is very 
 different from India, not only as to the 
 general appearance of the country itself, but 
 also as regards the people, their manner of 
 living, and the language spoken. That this 
 should be so is really not hard to under- 
 stand. 
 
 Though joined by land to India in the 
 north, Burma is separated from that country 
 by mountain ranges which are difficult to 
 cross. This has left the country shut in and 
 isolated from earliest times. • The pages of 
 Indian history are scarred by the records of 
 Alexander the Great and other invaders, and 
 the country and people have been influenced 
 greatly by these various conquerors, yet 
 Burma has been sheltered. 
 
 In later times these same protecting 
 mountains have stood in the way of more 
 peaceful invaders, so that Burma is still 
 without railway connection with the outside 
 
lo Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 world. The only practical way of reach- 
 ing it at present is by sea. 
 
 But Burma's history is by no means a 
 record of centuries of peace; for although 
 there are also mountains between it and its 
 eastern neighbors, China and Siam, these 
 are in parts less forbidding than the barrier 
 which separates it from India. 
 
 So we find mention of expeditions against 
 Siam which were very successful; but it is 
 also recorded that the conflicts with the 
 Chinese were less happy in their outcome, 
 this big neighbor having exacted tribute 
 from Burma on more than one occasion. 
 Today, these past associations with the East 
 are shown by similarities between the peo- 
 ples of Burma and their neighbors across 
 the Salwin. 
 
 'Visitors from India, however, frequently 
 did come by way of the sea; and it was 
 in this way that the present-day religion of 
 the people — Buddhism— was received. To- 
 day there are but few believers in that faith 
 in India, despite the fact that the founder 
 of it was an Indian prince; but Burma is 
 strongly Buddhist. 
 
An Introduction to Burma n 
 
 By the same road, too, European mer- 
 chants and others came, even as early as the 
 time of Christ; and from them we learn a 
 little of the conditions existing in Burma in 
 the olden days. 
 
 There is abundant evidence that the peo- 
 ple within Burma itself, whoever they may 
 have been and wherever they may have 
 come from (both of which facts are appar- 
 ently hard to find out exactly) , seemed un- 
 able to live at peace among themselves. So 
 today, scattered about here and there over 
 the country, are to be found the ruins of 
 ancient capitals, reminders of bygone days 
 of splendor, and mute witnesses of many a 
 fierce struggle between sections and tribes. 
 
 It seems to have been a custom with 
 some of these warring bands to transport 
 their vanquished foes to strange parts of the 
 country; or perhaps some of the marauders 
 settled in new parts, abandoning their old 
 homes; for at the present time we find the 
 peoples and languages of the different tribes 
 scattered and mixed all over the country. 
 Thus the Burmese, who of themselves in- 
 clude the remnants of formerly separate king- 
 
12 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 doms; the Karens, with their differing dia- 
 lects; the Talaings, Taungthus, Shans, Chins, 
 Kachins, and what-not else, are to be found 
 here and there, one in with the other. As 
 may well be imagined, this condition of af- 
 fairs by no means simplifies the task of the 
 missionary, who, in his endeavor to uplift 
 the people, seeks to acquaint himself thor- 
 oughly with their speech and customs. In- 
 cidentally it means that the descriptions given 
 in these pages, of people and things as they 
 are in one part of the country, do not neces- 
 sarily apply to all other parts of the same 
 land. 
 
 The people of Burma are principally 
 farmers, and large towns are few and far 
 between. Such as there are show the foreign 
 impress in an ever-increasing degree. Ran- 
 goon, the capital city, seems to provide lodg- 
 ment for people from nearly every nation 
 under the sun; which is not surprising when 
 one considers the wealth of the country, and 
 the general willingness of the Burman to 
 employ another to do the hard work. 
 
 In the first place, the mighty Irrawaddy, 
 with its hundreds of miles of navigable wa- 
 
An Introduction to Burma 13 
 
 ters, reaching right up through the very cen- 
 ter of the country, secured for Rangoon its 
 pre-eminence; then the railway crowned the 
 natural advantages of the capital by focus- 
 ing on it all other routes of Burma's trade; 
 and later a well-developed harbor has invited 
 the shipping of the world to come and re- 
 ceive the treasures of the province; and the 
 combination of these influences has resulted 
 in the city's being a cosmopolitan place. 
 
 It seems but natural, then, that in endeav- 
 oring to convey a little idea of what the real 
 people of Burma are like, one should turn 
 his attention almost entirely to the village 
 people rather than to those in the towns. 
 
 This little book makes no particular pre- 
 tense of treating Burma as a whole, but ra- 
 ther is it just a small collection of stories 
 — odds and ends that I have noticed in my 
 varied wanderings. An endeavor has been 
 made to write them in a style and language 
 suited to Juniors. If this book serves to 
 arouse or increase the interest of any in this 
 pleasant land, its purpose will have been 
 accomplished. 
 
WHERE AUNG BAW LIVES AND 
 HOW HE WORKS 
 
 Plowing Under Water — Buffaloes for Horses — A 
 House Tied in a Tree — A Bamboo Water Pail 
 
 Here comes Aung Baw, driving a pair 
 of oxen before him and carrying his plow 
 on his shoulder. It looks more like a rough, 
 bent piece of wood, pointed at one end, than 
 a plow; but he has not enough money to buy 
 a better one, and this one serves his purpose. 
 The end of the wood is shod with an iron 
 plow point, which is always kept sharp. 
 Aung Baw must be on his way to his field 
 to get the ground ready for transplanting the 
 rice; so we will follow him and see how he 
 works. 
 
 Notice the oxen. They are different from 
 those seen in other parts of the world. Do 
 you see that hump on their backs, just over 
 the shoulders? All Indian cattle have that, 
 and it is peculiar to them. 
 
 Aung Baw has the two animals already 
 yoked together, and the yoke lies on their 
 
i6 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 necks, just in front of the hump. When 
 they begin their work and are pulling at the 
 plow, this hump serves as a strong pad 
 against which they can push. Each ox has 
 a rope passed through from one side of his 
 nose to the other, and the reins are tied to 
 this nose rope, instead of to a bit, as is done 
 with a horse. 
 
 Here we are at Aung Baw's field. How 
 can he tell where his field begins or ends, 
 as there are no fences or hedges, and no 
 boundary stones either? Everywhere the 
 land is flat, and is divided into odd-shaped 
 sections with only very low ridges of earth 
 between them; and even these are broken 
 down in many places, where the carts have 
 been driven over them during the past dry 
 season. 
 
 Aung Baw farms several of these little 
 pieces of ground, and somehow he knows 
 just which are his. He does not own the 
 land, but rents it, paying his rent every har- 
 vest time by giving the owner a certain 
 number of baskets of rice for each acre. 
 The oxen too have probably been hired for 
 the plowing. 
 
Where Aung Baw Lives 17 
 
 How can he plow such muddy soil? 
 Well, in Lower Burma they always wait 
 until the ground is soft with the early rains 
 before they start to work it. Sometimes you 
 might see a man plowing a field which looks 
 like nothing else than a big puddle. Of 
 course, farmers in America would not think 
 this the best way to do the work; but the 
 soil here is very rich, and with even this 
 scant attention, it yields a good crop; so the 
 people are satisfied. 
 
 Occasionally all the breaking up the 
 ground gets is done by sending a boy out to 
 drive the oxen or the buffaloes up and down 
 the field; and the cattle tramp through the 
 soft mud, and so break the surface in readi- 
 ness for the rice shoots. 
 
 Buffaloes are not such fierce fellows as 
 used to roam about in America, but are 
 quite tame, although most of them seem 
 much afraid of white people. When they 
 are startled they might do some harm, for 
 they are very heavy and strong, and have 
 long horns. In the villages, little boys and 
 girls four or five years old drive them along 
 or ride on their backs. 
 
1 8 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 These Indian water buffaloes usually 
 have a black or dark-gray hide. They like 
 nothing so much as lying in a pond, their 
 huge bodies completely covered, and just the 
 
 Aung Baw and His Famil}' 
 
 tip of their noses poking up above the water. 
 In the hot weather they spend much of their 
 time in this way; and if there is not enough 
 water for them to lie in, then the next best 
 thing they seem to like is to roll in the mud. 
 Often they are completely covered with 
 brown, slimy mud, but they look perfectly 
 contented. 
 
Where Aung Baw Lives 19 
 
 Buffalo milk is very rich in cream, and 
 quite a number of the cows are kept for the 
 good milk they give. The buffalo calves are 
 ugly little fellows, and go tumbling along 
 after their mother, making a great deal of 
 noise. 
 
 Aung Baw's crude plowing easily breaks 
 the soft earth, but does not go very deep. 
 It is a good thing that he is barefooted, or 
 he would have a hard task cleaning the mud 
 off after the day's work is over. A little 
 water will soon wash his feet and legs clean 
 when he gets home in the evening. 
 
 After he has finished his plowing, Aung 
 Baw levels the ground again by hitching 
 some sort of rough wooden roller to the oxen, 
 which drag it up and down the fields. This 
 is very necessary, as the rain must be kept 
 from draining away, for rice grows best 
 when standing in water. 
 
 Where the land is especially low lying, 
 and is flooded several feet deep during the 
 rains, the rice is transplanted late in the 
 season, after the water has begun to go down. 
 But in most places the work is done while 
 the rains are still falling, the extra water 
 
20 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 being drained away by little ditches dug 
 for that purpose. 
 
 It will yet be some days before Aung 
 Baw will put in his rice plants. He is very 
 
 A Karen Village 
 
 fortunate in that his field is quite near his 
 house. Many of these village people farm 
 land miles from their homes; so during the 
 rice season they build a rough shanty near 
 the field, where the men and boys can stay 
 till the plowing and planting are finished. 
 Perhaps after that the boys will take turns 
 in staying there till the crop is ready to 
 
Where Aung Baw Lives 21 
 
 harvest, w^hen all must again busy themselves 
 in gathering in the grain. 
 
 Aung Baw's house is in a small village 
 called Kaw-ma-ra, which means " in front 
 of the hill." Over there about a mile away, 
 you can see the hill rising abruptly from the 
 fields. Look carefully, and you will see a 
 pagoda upon the top. One wonders how the 
 men ever carried up the materials to build 
 it; but there it is, just like thousands of others 
 in Burma. It reminds us of the Bible pas- 
 sage about the heathen places of worship 
 being on every high hill and under every 
 green tree. 
 
 There are many little villages like Kaw- 
 ma-ra scattered about over this country. 
 Wherever you see a clump of trees, except, 
 perhaps, close to the foot of the hills, you 
 may be sure there is a village, though pos- 
 sibly it may have only eight or ten houses. 
 In between are the fields, quite bare of trees. 
 During the rains they are a beautiful sea of 
 green, with the flourishing rice crops ; in the 
 dry weather, just a bare brown stretch, the 
 low ridges between the little plots being all 
 there is to break the monotony. 
 
22 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 Here and there a bullock cart may be 
 seen, perhaps laden with merrymakers going 
 to a feast. As it bumps along over the fields, 
 it raises a cloud of dust, for there are no 
 regular roads here, and they do not seem 
 to need them in this land of the simple life. 
 
 Aung Baw has been settled in this place 
 for several years, so his house is inclosed in 
 a high bamboo hedge, so thick that one can 
 hardly see the building from the outside. 
 The gateway is a narrow gap in the hedge, 
 which can be closed by just sliding some 
 thin bamboos through two gateposts, which 
 have holes in them for the purpose. 
 
 In these villages the people do not seem 
 to fear that any one will interfere much with 
 their property. I once saw what will seem 
 to you like a very strange sight. As I was 
 walking over the fields, I noticed a number 
 of planks tied high up in the fork of a tree. 
 Evidently some man had had to leave his 
 home for a time, so had pulled it down; and 
 to keep the materials together, he had tied 
 them up in the tree. There the wood was, 
 with nobody at all to watch it, a mile or 
 more from any village or other house, but 
 
Where Aung Baw Lives 23 
 
 apparently quite safe. Just fancy pulling 
 your house down when you wanted to go 
 away, and then leaving the wood tied up in 
 a tree for months until you came back! Of 
 course, their houses are often poor little 
 structures, that do not require much time 
 to build. 
 
 Inside Aung Baw's hedge you can see 
 the cocoanut palms and banana plants he has 
 growing. In these parts the villagers plant 
 a few cocoanuts as soon as they settle in a 
 place; so, in a way, one can tell by the palms 
 if a village is old, or only recently built. 
 These of Aung Baw's must be about twenty 
 years old, as they have been bearing nuts for 
 some time. The banana plants grow much 
 more quickly, and once a plant has borne a 
 bunch of fruit, it is cut down, five or six 
 others springing up to take its place. These 
 bear fruit better if they are separated and 
 transplanted; but if left alone, they make 
 quite a thick clump of plants. 
 
 Like most houses in this part, Aung Baw's 
 is built of wood and high up on posts, the 
 floor being six or seven feet above the 
 ground. This makes a place underneath for 
 
24 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 the rice mill and the hand loom, as well as 
 for the ducks. If chickens are kept, they 
 usually roost up in the bamboo and other 
 trees. Often the big basket for storing the 
 household supply of rice and cocoanuts is 
 under the house, too; but Aung Baw has 
 built himself quite a strong house, and has 
 his storeroom upstairs. The well is just a 
 square hole, perhaps twenty feet deep, with 
 the edge lined with heavy logs, sunken 
 level with the ground, to prevent any caving 
 in around the top. 
 
 They have a clever arrangement for draw- 
 ing the water. These village people do not 
 have much money, and cannot afiford to 
 buy iron pails and ropes, so the wonderful 
 bamboo is brought into use. 
 
 While many bamboos are slender, others 
 grow to be seven or eight inches thick and 
 are hollow. About every fifteen inches along 
 the length, the bamboo has a notch showing 
 on the outside; and at these points it is 
 solid right through. So by cutting across 
 the bamboo just below two notches, a nice 
 pail about six inches across and twelve 
 inches deep, inside, is made. Aung Baw 
 
Where Aung Baw Lives 25 
 
 has sawed off a piece of one of these large 
 bamboos, and there is his pail all ready for 
 use! 
 
 Across the mouth of the pail is a string of 
 cocoanut fiber. Now it is lowered into the 
 well. For this purpose a long, thin bamboo, 
 perhaps less than one inch thick, is chosen; 
 and you will see that all the side branches 
 have been carefully trimmed off, except 
 about two inches of one right at the thick 
 end. This makes a very fine natural hook 
 on which the pail is swung; and away it goes 
 down into the well. If you should try to 
 fill the pail, you would probably let it slip 
 off the hook; but then, you have not had 
 so much practice as Aung Baw and his 
 people. 
 
ON THE ROAD THROUGH THE 
 FIELDS 
 
 A Half-Mile Footbridge — Betel-Nut Chewing — The 
 Foolish Taungthu — Mud Kettles 
 
 Come along, let us go right through 
 Myaingalay village, climb the stile at the 
 beginning of the village street, and on past 
 the headman's house. The Burmese call the 
 headman the thugyi, or " big person," for 
 he has a good deal of authority in the com- 
 munity. At the monastery the road winds 
 somewhat. Over on the left there is a wide 
 stretch of rice fields, with the cocoanut palms 
 of another village in the background. 
 
 Look at that bridge; it must be nearly 
 half a mile long. The village people have 
 all worked together to build it, so as to 
 provide a footpath for everybody during the 
 rainy season ; and the government has helped 
 by allowing them to cut the trees they needed, 
 without paying any tax. When we come to 
 talk about the sawyers, I will tell you more 
 about that tax. 
 
28 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 This village on the other side of the 
 monastery looks different, because the peo- 
 ple at one end are Taungthus and Talaings, 
 and at the other end they are mostly Pwo 
 Karens. These two tribes build their houses 
 dififerently. 
 
 The houses that we first saw were mostly 
 built quite low down, with the floor in the 
 front part just about eighteen inches above 
 the ground, while the back part of the house, 
 which is the bedroom, is a good deal higher 
 and is reached by climbing a few steps. This 
 is the regular Burmese style. But the Karen 
 houses are generally high up, with the whole 
 floor six or seven feet from the ground, like 
 Aung Baw's. 
 
 Here we are at the little stream crossed 
 by a village bridge. Two or three tree trunks 
 have been laid down, one after the other, 
 and supported by rough posts driven into the 
 bed of the stream. This bridge has a hand- 
 rail, although many of the longer ones do 
 not have any railing at all. 
 
 Now we are out on the government cart 
 road. The villagers are used to walking in 
 their bare feet, and so do not mind a little 
 
Through the Fields 29 
 
 mud. The little footpath through the wood 
 at this end is not very well kept up, except 
 that the brushwood is not allowed to over- 
 grow it. Burma does not have very good 
 roads. After about a mile this one seems 
 to run right into the river. That is because 
 it was made so that the people might reach 
 the ferrying place from the town on the 
 other side of the Salwin. 
 
 Down at the water's edge we can sit in 
 the little tea shop. It is roughly built, made 
 of bamboo, with a roof of cocoanut leaves. 
 There is not much use of making it better, 
 for the river rises during the rainy season 
 and sweeps it away. So a new house is built 
 every year. 
 
 While we are waiting for the canoe, we 
 can watch the people as they go by. Here 
 comes an old Karen. His loongyee, or shirt, 
 is tucked up, his sturdy thighs are bare, so 
 that you can see the tattoo marks. In Burma 
 it is the general custom for the men to be 
 tattooed from the waist down to the knees. 
 The pattern is so close that the whole skin 
 looks blue. When a young man is being 
 tattooed, he is given something to drink 
 
30 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 which deadens the pain, for it is a most 
 painful process. Some of the tribes in 
 Burma tattoo the faces of all the women. 
 They say they do this because the women 
 are so good-looking, and they don't want the 
 neighboring tribes to steal their women. 
 
 The old man has the usual Karen bag 
 slung over his shoulder. It looks like a 
 schoolboy's bag. These bags are very con- 
 venient for carrying the odds and ends bought 
 at the market. The villagers carry their betel 
 boxes and tobacco pipes in them, too. 
 
 Over his head he has a paper umbrella, 
 which is really very good indeed. The paper 
 has been treated with a certain oil, and keeps 
 out the rain quite well. In some parts of 
 Burma they make very dainty parasols, the 
 paper being painted in pretty designs, and 
 the other parts finished off neatly. 
 
 As soon as he sits down, the old Karen 
 brings out his betel box. It is made of 
 lacquer ware; that is, of bamboo strips 
 plaited closely together into the required 
 shape. This is plastered over to fill up" all 
 the cracks, varnished, and colored in neat 
 designs. 
 
Through the Fields 31 
 
 The betel, or areca, nut grows in bunches 
 on a tall palm. When the outer skin is 
 peeled off, it looks like a nutmeg. It is 
 pared into thin slices with a pair of nippers, 
 and these parings are placed on a small 
 green leaf, together with some lime and to- 
 bacco and spices. Then it is all folded up 
 and popped into the mouth and chewed. 
 
 Betel-nut chewing makes their mouths 
 very unsightly, staining them a nasty red, 
 and turning the teeth black. It also en- 
 courages the very dirty habit of spitting. 
 That old woman's mouth looks disgraceful. 
 One old stump of a tooth and blackened 
 gums are all that she has in place of the 
 thirty-two pearly white teeth. 
 
 These people ofifer the betel nut to their 
 friends just to show their hospitality, much 
 as some tobacco smokers offer cigarettes and 
 cigars to each other. 
 
 Here is a Taungthu. Burmese folks look 
 down on this tribe, and think them very 
 ignorant. There is a story in a schoolbook 
 which shows how foolish a Taungthu can be. 
 The story says one of them was sitting in his 
 boat washing a tray, when it slipped from 
 
Betel-Nut Chewing — a Native Habit 
 
 One old stump of a tooth and blackened guiiis are all that she 
 has in place of thirty-two pearly white teeth. 
 
Through the Fields 33 
 
 his hands and sank in the river. The man 
 dived for it, but could not find it. Again 
 and again he tried. Being still very anxious 
 to get it, he cdt a notch on the side of his 
 boat to show where the tray had slipped 
 over; and then, ever after that, when he was 
 in his boat and had the time, he would dive 
 in opposite the notch, no matter where the 
 boat was. The Burmese say that he thought 
 to find the tray at the bottom of the river in 
 that place. 
 
 Sitting on the floor of the tea house we 
 can chat with the keeper. He doesn't worry 
 at all, even though we do not buy anything. 
 He knows that we will ask for what we want. 
 See the kettle made of baked mud. The 
 village folks know how to make almost any 
 object out of just such simple things as mud! 
 
 The ferry is a long time coming, so we 
 shout across the river, '' Hai, kadoe! " Here 
 he comes with his canoe. We'll have to be 
 careful going down the bank, for the muddy 
 steps are only roughly made, and very 
 slippery. 
 
 Look out as you step into the canoe, or 
 you will topple over. I did one day, for the 
 
34 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 boat started to wabble as soon as I stepped 
 into it, and over I went into the water! 
 There are a number of the paddles lying 
 ready, one for you to use to help the ferry- 
 man across. Some one would better bail the 
 water out of this canoe, else our boots will 
 get full. Here is the dipper, made out of 
 bamboo. 
 
 When we reach the other side, the ferry- 
 man collects his fares of one anna apiece. 
 (One anna equals two cents.) The fare 
 varies according to the width of the river, 
 for in some places where the stream is a 
 narrow one, the fare is only a quarter of an 
 anna. 
 
 We take the road up past the blacksmiths' 
 quarter. It is the usual thing in Burmese 
 towns for the people of the same trade to 
 live close together. Part of the town is 
 called after the particular trade followed 
 there. There is the umbrella quarter, black- 
 smith quarter, and so on. These blacksmiths 
 are busy making dahs, which are the long 
 knives the Burmese make so much use of. 
 When we see some men building a house, 
 we shall know how useful these dahs are. 
 
Through the Fields 35 
 
 Suppose we stop at the post office to see if 
 there are any letters for us. In our village 
 we have only one delivery a week, so our 
 letters stay here in the post office until our 
 day comes round, or we call for them. 
 
 Now we must hurry, for it is quite a long 
 walk to Aung Baw's house. 
 
 The first time I went this way I had an 
 interesting time finding my way around. I 
 had been asked to go and visit a man who 
 lives a mile or so farther on than Aung 
 Baw, but nobody seemed just sure of the 
 way to get there. I decided to ask the post- 
 master as to when the mail runner would be 
 going out that way, so that I might go with 
 him and thus find my friend. When I was 
 walking through the town to the post office, 
 I happened to meet a man with whom I had 
 made friends the day before, and as every- 
 body does in these parts, he greeted me with 
 the question, " Beh thwa m'lay, saya? " 
 (Where are you going?) 
 
 I told him as best I could; and then he 
 asked if I knew the way. I had to confess 
 that I did not. To my great surprise and 
 relief he told me the man I was seeking was 
 
36 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 his uncle, and that if I would come over to 
 his house, I should find a man there who 
 was going out to that very village that morn- 
 ing, and I could go with him. Of course, 
 I needed no second invitation. It might have 
 been some days before the postman would 
 have been going, and he might not have been 
 sure of my friend's house. 
 
 Many times as I have thought over this 
 incident, it has seemed to me to be like the 
 way the two disciples found the upper room 
 to which Jesus had sent them, to prepare it 
 for the last supper; for when they came to 
 the city, they met a man carrying a pitcher 
 of water, who took them to the very house 
 to which the Master had told them to go. 
 And so this man, whom I had never before 
 seen, took me just where I wanted to go; and 
 as this story proceeds, you will surely agree 
 that without a guide like that, I should have 
 had a most difficult time to find the way to 
 the house of my friend. 
 
 We go out past the burying ground. That 
 shelter over there is for the convenience of 
 funeral parties, for often they invite a num- 
 ber of monks to the burying, and give them 
 
Through the Fields 37 
 
 presents. The monks sit on the floor of this 
 place, while the gifts are being offered. 
 
 Out through the rice fields we go, through 
 the mud and water, following the ridges as 
 best we can. We slide and slop along 
 through the mud, and when we reach the 
 village we find that the path is not much 
 better; for under the overhanging bamboos 
 it does not get a chance to dry, from the 
 beginning of the rains to the end. 
 
 It is now beginning to rain quite heavily, 
 so if you like we will just step into this 
 house and take shelter till the worst is over. 
 The people are desirous that we come in for 
 a rest and sit down and make ourselves at 
 home. Their houses generally are poor and 
 often not very clean, but their friendliness 
 makes up for everything else. Somewhere in 
 this village I met a poor old blind man, who 
 was made very happy by the gospel story of 
 the new earth where the blind shall have 
 their sight restored. 
 
 This is the long bridge I told you we 
 should have to cross. It is about two thirds 
 of a mile long. It is always marshy here, so 
 even in the dry season we should have to go 
 
38 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 some miles around if the bridge were not 
 provided. Walk straight ahead, and you will 
 soon get used to it. Most of the way there 
 is a good stout plank about eight inches wide. 
 
 Some one is coming from the other end, 
 so we will wait here at the trestle upon 
 which the planks rest. The man will easily 
 pass us, even though he is carrying two big 
 baskets slung on a pole. 
 
 Near the end of the bridge we shall have 
 to be very careful. A few of the planks have 
 evidently given way, and somebody has re- 
 placed them with stout bamboos ; but they are 
 round and slippery. We'll put our feet on 
 sideways and walk slowly, until we are over. 
 In some places whole bridges are like that. 
 
 Just before reaching Aung Baw's, we find 
 ourselves right below a pagoda which is 
 perched up on the summit of a hill. In the 
 dry season there is a festival there. At that 
 time some thousands of people visit it. They 
 dance in groups on these very fields. 
 
 One time I saw another interesting thing 
 at this place. Men were casting a great bell 
 for use on some religious building. They 
 had made the mold in the ground, and had 
 
Through the Fields 39 
 
 built a furnace near by, so that they could 
 melt the brass and run it straight into the 
 mold without difficulty. 
 
 On the pagoda there are large brass bells 
 which have been cast in this crude way. It 
 may be that a large number of people will 
 club together and each give so much weight 
 of metal for such a purpose, as the chil- 
 dren of Israel did for the making of the 
 golden calf at the foot of Mt. Sinai; and 
 then all are supposed to share in the merit 
 which comes from doing this pious act. 
 
 After our long and muddy walk, Aung 
 Baw's hedge looks quite cheerful; and now 
 that we can see it, it will not be long until 
 we are comfortably settled in his house for 
 the night. 
 
THE WAY BURMESE GROW PADDY 
 
 Making Thanaka — Names of Burmese Letters — In a 
 Burmese School — Planting and Guarding Rice Fields 
 
 " Tek like bah, say a'' is the way Aung 
 Baw's folks tell us to climb to the veranda 
 of their house. Up the bamboo ladder we 
 go, and settle ourselves on the floor, scaring 
 away the dog. He walks off down the lad- 
 der just as easily as can be. These village 
 dogs are not very bold, and can do little but 
 bark, and that generally from a safe distance. 
 While our friends are busy preparing us 
 something to eat, we can look around. 
 
 Here is a crossbow, quite a heavy afifair 
 in its way. It is stretched by turning a 
 handle, so that it can be pulled very tight 
 indeed; and then to release the arrow, a little 
 trigger is pulled, very much like that of a 
 gun. The Burmese use these very skilfully. 
 With a smaller crossbow they shoot mud 
 balls that have been baked hard in the sun. 
 In place of a thong or string, these bows have 
 slender bamboo strips. In just the right 
 
42 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 place a small square patch is woven, on 
 which the mud ball is held. 
 
 I tried to shoot with one of these bows 
 one time, but succeeded only in hitting my 
 own thumb nail. The village boys are very 
 clever in their use, and can hit targets at a 
 good distance. 
 
 That thing over in the corner which looks 
 like a toy water wheel is what Aung Baw's 
 wife and daughters use when spinning thread. 
 The loom is downstairs, and perhaps later 
 on we shall see some of the sheets that have 
 been woven on it. Nowadays, with foreign 
 cotton goods so cheap, there is not so much 
 weaving done in the villages as there used 
 to be. 
 
 Up in the rafters you can see the big 
 bamboo fish trap, four or five feet long, and 
 about eighteen inches across at one end, the 
 other tapering to a point. Sometime we may 
 see one of these in use. 
 
 That flat, round stone, about a foot across, 
 is where the women grind the face paste, or 
 thanaka. A small piece of sandalwood is 
 taken, and after the surface of the stone has 
 been wet with water, the wood is rubbed on 
 
The Way Burmese Grow Paddy 43 
 
 it, so that gradually a fine paste is made. 
 This has something of the fragrance of the 
 sandalwood, and is quite soothing to the 
 skin when prickly heat bothers. Burmese 
 ladies smear their faces with it. This is 
 .their face powder. They usually have a 
 small supply of it with them as they travel. 
 Just before reaching their destination, they 
 will use it for beauty purposes. 
 
 On the outer veranda are the waterpots. 
 Frequently people keep two or three right 
 on the roadside, so that passers-by may 
 quench their thirst. The dipper is made 
 from a cocoanut shell, the wooden handle 
 being passed through from one side to the 
 other. 
 
 This is called in Burmese a yay hmote; 
 and one of the letters in the Burmese al- 
 phabet is shaped like it. The Burmese 
 schoolboys call it the dah yay hmote. Nearly 
 all their letters have names like that, one 
 being called " horse-bridle z; " another, 
 " crooked breasted d; " while still another is 
 called " p with a hat." 
 
 The vowels also have names which make 
 it easy to remember what they look like. 
 
44 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 One is called " the big circle placed on," 
 which is the same as our letter " e; " it con- 
 sists of a circle written on top of the letter 
 after which it has to be sounded. 
 
 Burmese Letters and Their 
 Peculiar Names 
 
 2) Water-dipper " D " 
 
 ^ Horse bridle " Z " 
 
 I Crooked breasted " D " 
 
 G " P " with a hat 
 
 ^y2 The big circle placed on (the 
 ^^^ letter ''K") 
 
 When the Burmese boys are learning to 
 read, they have to pronounce each consonant 
 with every vowel in turn, and in this way go 
 through all the thirty-two consonants they 
 have. In school we could hear thirty or 
 more lusty lungs crying out: 
 
The Way Burmese Grow Paddy 45 
 
 " Kah gyee, eh .... ka 
 Kah gyee, eh, chah .... kah (drawn out 
 
 a little long) 
 Kah gyee, eh, long gyee tin . . . . ke 
 Kah gyee, eh, long gyee tin san kat .... 
 
 kee," 
 
 and so on, kah gyee being their letter " k; " 
 the eh just a sound thrown in to complete 
 the rhythm of the lesson; then the name 
 of the vowel, if there is one; and last of 
 all, the sound of the consonant with the 
 vowel joined on. 
 
 Here comes the bowl of steaming rice, 
 with a dish of eggs, for supper. This is dif- 
 ferent from the kind you generally see at 
 home, but the taste is much the same. It 
 has a slightly reddish tint. Aung Baw will 
 not eat with us, because he would regard 
 that as disrespectful on his part. 
 
 There is no caste in Burma as there is 
 in many parts of India. There, many people 
 refuse to eat with others who are not of the 
 same caste, that is, who belong to a different 
 class of people. In India, should the host 
 ofifer us milk to drink, it would not be 
 proper to hand the cups back after drinking. 
 
46 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 Instead we are to throw them out of the 
 window. It would be defiling for the host 
 to touch cups used by those outside his caste. 
 Inasmuch as, the cups are plain earthenware, 
 there is usually no great loss in throwing 
 them away. 
 
 After supper we have a Bible reading 
 with the household. Aung Baw reads Pwo 
 Karen, but not Burmese, although he can 
 understand some of the latter language. He 
 will read in his language, and then we will 
 read the same verses in Burmese, and after- 
 ward talk over the subject. All together, we 
 crouch down on the floor, for the lamp is 
 just a rough little tin affair with a tiny round 
 wick, and having no chimney, it smokes and 
 flickers in the breeze. 
 
 "Early to bed, early to rise;" that is 
 the rule here. Very soon we make ourselves 
 comfortable for the night on the nice, cool 
 veranda. In this warm country all we need 
 is two hand-woven bed covers. 
 
 The ladder is drawn up so that the vil- 
 lage dogs cannot annoy us. But mosquitoes 
 hum around, so we are glad for the mos- 
 quito curtains in our knapsacks. 
 
The Way Burmese Grow Paddy 47 
 
 Over in the hedge the fireflies are like so 
 many flashing diamonds. Perhaps early in 
 the morning we may hear a deer barking 
 over at the foot of the hill. It is delightfully 
 still and quiet. We shall have a good night's 
 rest, when we get used to sleeping on the 
 board floor. 
 
 With the first streaks of dawn all are 
 awake and up. A wash at the well, and all 
 are ready for another bowl of rice; and then 
 away to the fields to watch the work. 
 
 About a month ago Aung Baw sowed his 
 rice seed in what is often called the nursery, 
 a field where the soil is extra good, and there 
 is not too much water. He had soaked the 
 seed in water for two days before sowing, so 
 it soon sprang up; and by now it has reached 
 a height of about a foot. Yesterday he 
 pulled up the young plants, and trimmed the 
 tops ofif; and today he and his wife and 
 daughters are going to replant them. 
 
 The soil in the fields is now just so much 
 soft mud, which is just right. Each one 
 takes a short, light stick in hand. At the 
 farther end of these sticks there is a fork 
 where a small branch leaves the main stem. 
 
48 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 Three or four of the rice plants are put in 
 this, and the stick poked down into the mud, 
 and then pulled out again, leaving the plants 
 
 © U. & U., N. Y. 
 
 An Oriental Rice Farm 
 
 Stuck fast in the ground. With a bunch of 
 rice plants in the left hand, and the stick in 
 the right, the workers go along rapidly, put- 
 ting in a tuft every ten or twelve inches in 
 regular rows. 
 
The Way Burmese Grow Paddy 49 
 
 When the rice is well settled after the 
 transplanting, the fields make a very pretty 
 sight indeed, with the wide stretches of un- 
 broken green. I shall never forget how beau- 
 tiful the valley of the Yonzalin River ap- 
 peared, near the town of Papun, when we 
 reached it after a long and somewhat trying 
 journey. On either hand the hillsides rose, 
 terraced after years of patient labor, now all 
 clad in brilliant green, while down between, 
 the stream rushed by, just like a thread of 
 silver. 
 
 It will take three to five months before 
 the rice will be ready to harvest, the time 
 depending on the kind of seed and the time 
 of year when it is planted. In the mean- 
 time the men will busy themselves with fish- 
 ing and other such work, apart from the 
 general watching of their fields. They do not 
 worry much about keeping the weeds cleared 
 away, for the water standing in the fields 
 does that. The ridges around each little 
 plot must be kept in order, though, else the 
 water might drain away and the crop suffer. 
 
 After the ears of rice are formed, and 
 while they are filling, the fields must be 
 
5o Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 watched continuously, or the birds will 
 steal a good deal of grain. Here and there 
 a small shelter is roughly built, from which 
 ropes are stretched out in all directions over 
 the rice. A boy sitting in the shelter every 
 now and then pulls the ropes. On the ropes 
 hang bamboo clappers or bits of rag, and 
 the noise and movement scares the birds 
 away. 
 
 At night there is not much danger, for 
 the birds are asleep and the cattle safely 
 in their pens, and the mangy-looking dog, 
 which sleeps on the ground, will scare the 
 deer away with his barking, should they 
 come along for a feed of rice. The crows 
 and other birds come early in the morning, 
 so somebody must sleep out in the fields to 
 be ready to watch as soon as it is light. 
 During the heat of the day, too, there is not 
 much trouble, so the watchers have what is 
 for them a very happy time — they can spend 
 most of their hours just dozing. 
 
 Parrots, too, are very destructive to the 
 rice crops, for they seem to delight in pick- 
 ing a little here and a little there, thus spoil- 
 ing a great deal more than they actually eat, 
 
The Way Burmese Grow Paddy 51 
 
 and they come in big flocks, too. The little 
 bows and hard mud balls come in very nicely 
 for this work of watching the fields, for the 
 guards can sit quietly in their shelters and 
 scare the birds a long way ofif. 
 
 When the time comes for the paddy to be 
 reaped, all the family must get to work and 
 gather in the crop. Many farmers hire 
 Indian coolies to do most of the reaping for 
 them, as they much prefer to watch others 
 do such back-breaking work. 
 
 Out they go with their little sickles, the 
 girls with their big palm-leaf hats on and 
 their cheeks protected by a cloth, so that they 
 do not get sunburned. It will be noticed 
 that they cut so as to leave quite a length of 
 rice stalk in the ground. After the crop 
 has been entirely cleared away, this stubble is 
 fired, and the ashes form about the only 
 fertilizer the soil ever gets, unless the river 
 happens to overflow and leave a fresh layer 
 of mud on the surface. 
 
 The rice is generally threshed out in the 
 fields, before being carted away. A suitable 
 spot is cleared and leveled off; or maybe 
 there is a general village threshing floor 
 
52 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 which all use in turn. On this the stalks of 
 paddy are heaped high in a circle. Then the 
 oxen or buffaloes are driven slowly round 
 and round, till the ears have all been trod- 
 den out. 
 
 A platform about ten feet high is built. 
 Squatting on this, a man takes the baskets of 
 threshed rice which are passed up to him by 
 another standing on a platform halfway up, 
 and pours it out, so that the wind may carry 
 off the chaff and dust, while the grain falls 
 to the ground below. 
 
 Some of the rice must be stored for the 
 next year. Some must be kept as seed. The 
 balance is sent off to the town to be sold to 
 the agents of the rice mills or other mer- 
 chants, the sale of which brings in practically 
 the only money many a family sees for the 
 whole year. Sometimes an advance is made 
 on the crop by a rice merchant. In that 
 case the crop must be sold to him, regardless 
 of the price that others would pay. 
 
 The Burmese sometimes earn a little cash 
 by keeping fowls. Men, with great baskets 
 slung on poles carried over the shoulder, 
 make regular trips through the country. 
 
The Way Burmese Grow Paddy 53 
 
 buying the hens and chickens and eggs. 
 They sell them in the larger towns. Some, 
 too, may have an orchard which brings in 
 some money. With the boys and girls going 
 to school in town, some ready money must 
 be on hand to pay their fees and other ex- 
 penses. 
 
 With the threshing finished, the straw is 
 collected to be used as cattle feed. A plat- 
 form about a foot high may be built, with a 
 pole some ten or more feet long placed 
 upright in the middle; the straw will be 
 roughly piled on the platform and the top 
 finished off into a loose thatch. Throughout 
 the year the cattle are allowed to eat at the 
 bottom of this stack, which slowly slides 
 down the central pole, till all has been used. 
 
 If we could follow the rice on its journey 
 after the farmers have sold it, we should find 
 it going by boat or train down to the big 
 seaports, where great rice mills line the 
 river; from these, during the busy season, 
 there flows a constant stream of rice to all 
 parts of the world. Day and night the work 
 goes on, now that electric lights turn night 
 into day. 
 
54 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 After the paddy has been measured in the 
 mill, it is bought at so much a hundred bas- 
 kets, this being a standard measure. Next 
 it is cleaned and then milled, to remove the 
 husk. Finally it is sewed up in sacks. All 
 is bustle and business around the mills. Out 
 in the river are rov^s and rows of boats in 
 which the paddy has come, and long lines of 
 coolies are working steadily unloading the 
 grain, and then reloading the filled sacks. 
 The water for some distance round is brown 
 with floating husks. Some of this is used 
 as fuel for the working of the machinery. 
 Even the dust which is swept up inside is 
 used as pig feed. 
 
 Rice forms by far the greater part of the 
 exports of Burma, perhaps two thirds of the 
 total. In earlier days the river in Rangoon 
 was filled with sailing ships waiting for their 
 annual cargoes of rice, afterward setting out 
 on their long journeys to dififerent parts of 
 the globe. It used to take four or five 
 months, and sometimes even longer, to reach 
 England from Burma by sailing ship. Now 
 large, ocean-going steamers have replaced the 
 old styles of boat. 
 
The Way Burmese Grow Paddy 5^ 
 
 In Upper Burma a good deal of cotton 
 is now grown. Different fibers for rope 
 making and like purposes are also cultivated. 
 Up in the Shan Hills one sees potatoes, and 
 the fields here are worked in a very peculiar 
 way. After the plowing has been completed, 
 the loose soil on the surface is raked up into 
 little heaps, one every foot or so across the 
 field. In these heaps are mixed leaves, grass, 
 or stable waste. Afterward each one is set 
 afire, the ash remaining to enrich the soil. 
 
 In some of the more out-of-the-way parts 
 of the country the people do not steadily 
 farm the same land year after year, but they 
 wander around, burning and clearing a small 
 patch of forest here and there, often on a 
 steep hillside, and after a few crops have 
 been taken off, leave it for a new place. 
 
 Rubber is now being grown in Lower 
 Burma, the heavy rainfall there being suited 
 to this tree; but much of this work is in the 
 hands of large companies, which work per- 
 haps thousands of acres; so we do not find 
 the Burmese interesting themselves in it to 
 any great extent. 
 
o 
 
 " ^ 8 
 
 — i a! 03 
 
PALM TREES FOR EVERY PURPOSE 
 
 Chauk-chaw Candy — Ice Fruit and Toddy Palm — 
 Travelers' Palm, with Its Cool Drink 
 
 You remember the cocoanut palms 
 around Aung Baw's house? The nuts as 
 they grow on these palms look very large, 
 for outside of what is usually called the shell 
 there is a coarse, fibrous husk, which is about 
 two inches thick all round. The valuable 
 coir fiber, from which ropes and matting 
 are made, is obtained from this husk. 
 
 If a nut is picked before it is fully 
 formed, it is found to be soft and jelly-like 
 inside, and filled with a sweetish water which 
 makes a very pleasant drink on a hot day. 
 But as the nuts grow older, the meat be- 
 comes firmer, and the water dries up until 
 it is all gone. In its place there grows up 
 inside what is called the flower. This is 
 really the new plant which is slowly being 
 formed. 
 
 When a native wants to plant some cocoa- 
 nuts, he takes a number of nuts, with the 
 
^8 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 outer husk on, just as they are picked from 
 the palm. He leaves these standing in a 
 corner of his house for several weeks. In 
 due time the leaves begin to sprout out of 
 the top, and when these have reached the 
 height of one foot, or perhaps two feet, the 
 nuts are put in the ground, half buried, and 
 they take root. 
 
 It takes from seven to twelve years for a 
 new palm to bear its first crop of nuts, some 
 varieties being much slower than others. 
 From that time on there is a steady supply 
 for many years. All goes well, without any 
 further trouble of cultivation, unless per- 
 chance some pest, as for instance a certain 
 form of beetle, attacks the palm, in which 
 case there is every danger that the whole 
 crown of the tree will drop ofif, and the 
 palm die. 
 
 Cocoanuts grow to best advantage where 
 there is plenty of rain, so one often sees them 
 fringing the seacoast in tropical countries; 
 but farther inland, say at a place like Meik- 
 tila, where we have our school, they are not 
 commonly seen. It is sometimes said that salt 
 water is necessary -for their growth, this idea 
 
Palm Trees for Every Purpose 59 
 
 perhaps arising from the fact that they are 
 common near the seacoasts; but they can be 
 found growing very w^ell indeed a hundred 
 miles from the sea, provided there is ample 
 rainfall. 
 
 Besides furnishing the coir fiber, the co- 
 coanut is an important article of food; for 
 when the nut has been shredded, a rich oil 
 can be washed out with water; and this 
 " milk " is added to curries, or even used 
 instead of water in which to boil rice. Very 
 nice candies can also be made with cocoanut 
 milk. The Burmese have a candy called 
 chauk-chaw, which is a stifif jelly made of 
 cocoanut milk and gelatin from seaweed. 
 
 In order to get the fiber from the husk, 
 this has to be soaked in water and then 
 pounded, either with a hammer or in some 
 form of machine; and the short lengths of 
 brown fiber so obtained are then spun into 
 yarn, from which the familiar rope and other 
 articles are made. 
 
 A very large number of cocoanuts are 
 split open, and the meat dried in the sun. In 
 this form they are exported to other coun- 
 tries, where the oil is extracted for soap 
 
6o Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 making and various other purposes. This 
 form of the nut is what is called " copra," 
 and has a rather rancid and sickly smell 
 when drying. Sometimes steam launches 
 carry nothing but cocoanut shells for the fir- 
 ing of the boilers. 
 
 The wood of the cocoanut palm is not 
 of much use, being very coarse, and not very 
 lasting. Often, too, the trunks of the palms 
 are greatly bent; for as all the branches and 
 nuts grow up at the top, — perhaps twenty- 
 five or thirty feet from the ground, — if there 
 is a high wind there is a very great strain on 
 the tree, so much so that whole plantations 
 can be seen with the trunks all bent in one 
 direction. 
 
 The leaves of these trees are valuable to 
 the villagers, who use them for the roofing 
 of their houses. The branches grow eight 
 or ten feet long, with long, narrow leaves 
 shooting out from both sides along the whole 
 length. Perhaps it might be more correct 
 to regard the whole branch with the side 
 leaves as one huge leaf, like a fern. The 
 people strip the leaves off and fold the ends 
 over on long, thin strips of bamboo, and 
 
Palm Trees for Every Purpose 6i 
 
 press and dry them as they do eng leaves. 
 
 It is a very interesting sight to w^atch the 
 men climbing the cocoanut palms in order 
 to get the nuts. As there are no branches 
 until the top is reached, it is not easy, you 
 see. A very common way of reaching the 
 top is to use a strong belt of rope or leather, 
 w^hich is passed round the tree trunk and the 
 climber's body; and as he steadily works 
 his way up by the strength of his arms and 
 legs, he draws the belt up with him, and, 
 leaning his weight against it, has his arms 
 free for getting a fresh hold higher up for 
 another pull. 
 
 There is another way, too, which I have 
 seen used in tree climbing. This consists 
 in driving a number of short pegs, one after 
 the other, up opposite sides of the tree, like 
 the spikes in a telegraph pole, making a 
 series of small steps. In time the bark 
 grows over them, so that all that is seen is 
 a chain of convenient little bumps, which 
 make it easier for the climber. This method 
 seems to be used more particularly with a 
 certain tall, smooth tree to which bees much 
 resort, and which men, of course, are anxious 
 
Making Rope from Cocoanut Fiber 
 
 Aung Baw's wife and daughters use a contrivance like this 
 
 when spinning thread. 
 
 (See page 42) 
 
Palm Trees for Every Purpose 63 
 
 to climb in order to secure the honey and 
 the wax. 
 
 Another fruit-bearing palm is the pal- 
 myra, which bears clusters of round nuts 
 about four or five inches across, and in which 
 are three or four pods of colorless jelly. 
 They are rather tasteless, but being juicy and 
 cold, even on the hottest day, they are quite 
 refreshing. A common name for this fruit 
 is " ice fruit." 
 
 Perhaps more valuable than the fruit is 
 the juice which is tapped oft from the top of 
 the palmyra tree, and from which a very 
 pleasant sugar can be made. But a good 
 deal of this juice is allowed to ferment, and 
 the drinking of it in this condition causes 
 much harm. This is what is commonly 
 known as " toddy," the palm being often 
 called the " toddy palm." Toddy is also ob- 
 tained from the date palm. 
 
 While the cocoanuts and palmyra palms 
 flourish in districts where there is plenty of 
 rain, they also grow well in much drier 
 parts. Unlike the cocoanut, the palmyra 
 wood is quite hard and durable, although 
 coarse, and so is much used for posts and 
 
64 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 rafters. This is very fortunate for the 
 village people, as in dry sections of the 
 country ordinary trees do not grow well; so 
 without the palmyra palm, there would not 
 be any cheap wood available for house- 
 building purposes. 
 
 In parts of India, too, the trunks of the 
 palms are split down lengthwise and hol- 
 lowed out, making rough little canoes, which 
 the villagers use in the season of the year 
 when their country is flooded. 
 
 In climbing the palmyra tree, a ladder is 
 used, as where the old branches have been 
 broken or cut off, a stout stump is left, mak- 
 ing ordinary climbing out of the question. 
 
 There is still a third form of palm tree, 
 and that is the one called the traveler's palm. 
 This has large green leaves, very similar to 
 those of the banana, which grow out from 
 the top of the trunk in the form of a fan. 
 If you should cut ofif a leaf from a healthy 
 tree, even on a hot day, a large quantity of 
 clear, cold water would flow out, giving you 
 a cold drink. This comes as a great blessing 
 to the thirsty traveler. It is from this fact 
 that the name of the tree is derived. 
 
Palm Trees for Every Purpose 65 
 
 So you see that in the hot countries, where 
 we do not have many of the trees and pleas- 
 ant fruits of the colder countries, the Creator 
 has provided other things which are just 
 suited to the climate. These, when rightly 
 used, are a great blessing to mankind. 
 
 Kamamaung Mission Launch, Salwin River 
 
MAKING GOOD ELEPHANTS OF 
 WILD ONES 
 
 Elephants Go to School, Drag and Carry Logs, and 
 Play in the River — How They Are Trapped 
 
 Poor old elephant! He seems to be stuck 
 fast in the mud, for he has sunk in it almost 
 up to his body. But no, he drags his feet 
 up and slowly makes his way forward. What 
 was his driver thinking about to let the ele- 
 phant get into such a muddy place? The 
 driver is perched up there on the elephant's 
 back. 
 
 The tide in the river has gone down, 
 and left the big teak logs lying in the mud. 
 The elephant brings them one by one to the 
 sawmill. 
 
 Look! He has reached one now. He 
 curls his trunk around it and perches it upon 
 his tusks. He does whatever the driver tells 
 him to do. He knows the words of com- 
 mand, like a soldier. It is a big log, and 
 must be very heavy indeed; but the elephant 
 is strong, and can pick it up without any help. 
 
68 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 When he has brought it up into the yard, 
 his driver tells him to put it on the pile 
 of other logs. And he obeys. He lays the 
 log down in line with the others, butts the 
 end of it with his big old head, so that 
 the pile shall all be even, one log with all 
 the others. 
 
 The elephant has been taught in a school. 
 I saw a young elephant, about ten years old, 
 having his lesson one day. He was not 
 strong enough to work with full-sized logs; 
 so they had a small one for him to practise 
 on. There was the pupil elephant doing just 
 what his teacher told him to do. Sometimes 
 he would butt the log, and sometimes he 
 would kick it with his foot; and then some- 
 times he would pick it up with his trunk. 
 Before he could leave school he would have 
 to learn to kneel down when told to. That is 
 part of every well-trained elephant's lesson. 
 It is when they kneel that people climb on 
 their backs. Some will help lift the driver 
 up with their trunks. Like a horse, they 
 learn the words that mean " go ahead," or 
 " stop," or anything else that elephants are 
 expected to do. The driver does not con- 
 
Good Elephants of Wild Ones 69 
 
 trol them with a bit and bridle and reins ; 
 he just sits up on the animal's back and tells 
 him what to do, or pokes him with his heels 
 or with a driving hook. 
 
 Oftentimes, instead of picking the logs 
 up and carrying them, the elephant drags 
 them along the ground. They do this in the 
 forests, where there would not always be 
 room for them to carry logs on their trunks. 
 The men fix strong chains to the end of the 
 log, and these are hooked to the elephant's 
 harness. In this way he drags the logs to 
 the river, where they can be floated down- 
 stream to the mills. 
 
 In different parts of India and Burma 
 elephants are used to ride on. When the 
 roads are bad and the country rough, this 
 is a very pleasant way to travel. They are 
 also used in parades and processions. On 
 such occasions the elephant's harness is orna- 
 mented with gold and silver fittings, costly 
 saddle cloths (jhools, they call them in In- 
 dia) made of velvet and richly embroidered. 
 Wealthy men sometimes hire elephants to 
 march in their family wedding processions, 
 while others use them for hunting. 
 
70 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 You may think the elephant has a very 
 hard life, plunging through the mud, or 
 dragging big trees through the forest, and 
 doing other heavy work. But he has his 
 playtime too. In the evening, down at the 
 river bank, he plays. The big old elephants 
 like to get into the river for their evening 
 bath. They roll and splash around like 
 schoolboys out for a romp. They fill their 
 trunks with water, and, holding them up 
 high, blow the water out, making a big 
 shower bath for themselves. After playing 
 like that for a while, they solemnly march 
 ofif to their stables, and enjoy their supper. 
 
 But not all elephants are so tame and 
 obedient as these. There are great numbers 
 of wild elephants roaming about in the forests 
 of India and Burma. Sometimes they do con- 
 siderable damage to crops in the fields, and 
 occasionally even trample village people to 
 death. 
 
 To catch the wild ones, men will place 
 somewhere in the forest where the elephants 
 roam, a very strong fence or palisade, mak- 
 ing an inclosure through which the ele- 
 phants cannot break. After the wild herd has 
 
Good Elephants of Wild Ones 71 
 
 been located, a number of trained elephants 
 are used as decoys, to entice the wild ones 
 toward the palisade. Men mounted on other 
 animals gradually drive the wild ones in the 
 desired direction. So before long the big 
 fellows find themselves in the inclosure. 
 They are then driven into a smaller yard, 
 the gate of which is closed. Men go among 
 them, mounted on tame elephants, and tie 
 them one by one with ropes or chains. They 
 are then dragged away and gradually trained 
 for useful service. But there is great rushing 
 and crashing and yelling and bellowing dur- 
 ing the process of training. This is danger- 
 ous work, and only experienced men try it. 
 
 You can easily understand that if it were 
 not for the tame elephants, it would be very 
 difficult to catch and train the wild ones. 
 The older fellows set a good example to the 
 others, and in this way teach them their 
 lessons. 
 
 Elephants cost a great deal of money, 
 often three or four thousand dollars each. 
 In the forests in Burma, village men fre- 
 quently join together and buy one or more 
 elephants in partnership. Then they earn 
 
72 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 money hiring their animals out to timber 
 traders who have logs to be dragged down 
 to the river, or to travelers who have jour- 
 neys to make. Some big timber-trading 
 companies keep five hundred or more ele- 
 phants. 
 
 These big fellows do not all have the same 
 co'lor of skin. Some are lighter than others. 
 These are spoken of as white elephants. 
 They are very rare, and generally regarded 
 as sacred. A few years ago they had one 
 at the big Shwe Dagon Pagoda in Rangoon, 
 and people came from miles around to see 
 him. He was only a young fellow, and at 
 best but a dirty white in color. 
 
 The harness for elephants has one part 
 that is just like a thick mattress. It is in- 
 tended to protect the animal's skin from 
 injury. Perhaps the elephants you have 
 seen at the zoo look as if they had skin very 
 thick and tough, and as if nothing could 
 possibly hurt it; but really, the elephant 
 drivers have to take very great care, for if 
 their charges should be sick with sore backs, 
 it would take one or two years for their 
 thick skin to heal. This, of course, would 
 
Good Elephants of Wild Ones 73 
 
 mean much loss to the owners, for elephants 
 eat great quantities of food, whether they 
 work or not. 
 
 Do you wonder what elephants eat? 
 Well, they are very fond of hay and such 
 food. There are stories told of some of the 
 army elephants with which the Indian gov- 
 ernment used to drag heavy guns. These 
 fellows were very fond of chupatties, or 
 Indian unleavened bread. This was served 
 out to them every day for food. When each 
 animal received his pile of flat cakes, he care- 
 fully balanced it on the end of his trunk, 
 and could tell at once if he had been slighted. 
 
 Wild elephants roam about the jungle, 
 feeding on the grasses. The tame ones are 
 often allowed to graze in the same way, 
 although they generally have a long and 
 heavy chain fixed to their hind legs to keep 
 them from wandering away too far. 
 
 The next time you see some teak furniture, 
 you will remember the big old elephants in 
 the forests of India and Burma, who do so 
 much to get the wood for it. 
 
FLOATING LOGS DOWN THE 
 RIVER 
 
 A Boom — Grass Ropes — Rafts — Ironwood, Padauk, 
 and Thabye — The Log That Was Not a Log 
 
 After the teak and other kinds of logs 
 have been taken to the river, they are branded 
 with the owner's name at the end, and left 
 to drift down the stream until they are 
 stopped by a boom that is stretched across 
 from one bank to the other. At the boom, 
 the men sort the logs and make them into 
 rafts. Then they are ready to go on farther 
 down to the mills. 
 
 To make a boom the men choose a place 
 where on both sides of the river large rocks 
 stand up high, like big posts. The boom 
 is made of a number of stout cane vines. 
 
 These canes are generally at least an 
 inch thick, and often a good deal more; and 
 they grow to a height of two or three hun- 
 dred feet, overhanging high rocks and simi- 
 lar places. When this cane dries, it is quite 
 hard and stiff; but after it has been soaked 
 
76 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 in water, it can be bent enough to permit of 
 its being tied in knots where necessary. So 
 you see the cane vines are just like great 
 natural ropes, and are very strong. 
 
 The men take perhaps ten or twelve lengths 
 of cane and bind them roughly together, and 
 by joining others to the ends of these they 
 make a sort of net to stretch across the river. 
 They tie the ends to the two postlike rocks, 
 and leave the whole boom slack enough to 
 permit of its lying on the surface of the 
 water. This allows for the gradual falling 
 of the river as the season progresses. Then 
 the part of the boom actually in the water is 
 strengthened by logs tied to it all along its 
 length. 
 
 Anything that floats down the stream is 
 stopped by the boom. The little canoes the 
 village people use, slip by at the end under 
 the cane, as it arches down from the rock to 
 the water. Our mission launch rides over the 
 boom without difficulty, a log being removed 
 to let us pass in that way. Of course, the 
 engine is stopped, else the blades of the pro- 
 peller would be broken. Nothing else can 
 drift through here, for the space is closed by 
 
Floating Logs 'jj 
 
 floating logs which are shifted aside like a 
 gateway when necessary. 
 
 As logs are collected against the boom, 
 the men make them into rafts, tying the logs 
 together with either ropes or canes. When 
 a number, perhaps five or six rafts, are ready, 
 they go on their journey downstream. Some- 
 times little bamboo houses are built on the 
 rafts. They make a very pretty sight as they 
 float peacefully on, tying up near shore at 
 night and resuming their journey next day. 
 
 The distance to the mills is perhaps eighty 
 miles, and sometimes more. When the rafts 
 near the town, they are taken in tow by tugs, 
 which tow them to the special mills where 
 they belong. 
 
 In Burma there is a kind of timber called 
 pyengadu, or ironwood, which is too heavy 
 to float in water; so a number of bamboos are 
 tied to each log. In this way it is possible to 
 send them down the river in rafts. The 
 bamboos are not wasted, but are sold sep- 
 arately in the towns, where they are useful 
 for many purposes. 
 
 Pyengadu is a very strong wood, as its 
 common name (ironwood) implies. It is 
 
78 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 much used for posts and heavy framework in 
 houses, but as it is rather coarse, it is not 
 much used for doors or windows, or for fur- 
 niture. Teak, although it is more costly, is 
 generally used for such purposes in Burma. 
 The reason why these two kinds of wood are 
 preferred is that they are not damaged by 
 white ants, which quickly destroy many other 
 varieties. 
 
 Another kind of wood found in Burma 
 is padauk, which comes from the tree called 
 in English the gum kino tree. Burmese peo- 
 ple say that when the padauk tree has flow- 
 ered three times, the yearly rainy season will 
 start. This wood is hard and smooth, some- 
 thing like mahogany in appearance and use- 
 fulness. 
 
 Besides this there is the ingyin, or Shorea, 
 tree, which is the sal tree of East India. The 
 wood of it is not so good as teak. It is liable 
 to be eaten by white ants, so it cannot be used 
 with safety in house building; and as it twists 
 and shrinks greatly when dry, it is not 
 suitable for furniture. The Indian varieties, 
 though, are better for this purpose than those 
 found in Burma. 
 
Floating Logs 79 
 
 The leaves of this tree are valuable, being 
 used for the roofing of houses. While green, 
 the leaves are folded over and skewered onto 
 thin laths of bamboo about six feet long; a 
 number of these laths are then tied tightly 
 together, so that the leaves may dry out quite 
 flat. These are laid on the roof much as 
 you have seen carpenters lay shingles, row 
 after row, each higher row overlapping the 
 one just below. 
 
 The villagers say that if a spark of fire 
 should fall onto a roof of this leaf, it would 
 just smolder a hole through; but with a roof 
 of grass or cocoanut or other palm leaf (the 
 nipa palm leaf, which the Burmese call 
 dani, is much used), there would be great 
 danger of a spark's setting the whole thing 
 on fire very quickly. 
 
 Buddhists say that Buddha was under a 
 sal tree when he died. 
 
 Another tree often seen in Burma is the 
 Eugenia, a sort of myrtle, which the Burmese 
 call thabye. The leaves of this are used in 
 religious offerings, and are worn by soldiers 
 as victors' garlands. There was a tree of 
 this kind near one house we lived in, and 
 
8o Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 from the branches swung two or three birds' 
 nests shaped like bottles. 
 
 All these logs are sent down the river and 
 must be handled by the men. They become 
 very expert in walking and running about on 
 the rolling, turning, slipping logs. Gen- 
 erally the weight of a man walking on it 
 pushes a log under the water, but that does 
 not seem to worry the men at all. Most of 
 them are barefooted. The men catch the 
 single logs in midstream. When one is seen 
 approaching, two men will go out in a canoe 
 and paddle alongside, and when they reach 
 it, one of them will step onto it, and guide it 
 to the shore with his paddle. All the time 
 the log is rolling and twisting under him ; but 
 he is quite used to that, and keeps his balance 
 without any trouble. 
 
 Sometimes I have had to cross a narrow 
 stream on a bridge which was nothing more 
 than a heavy log floating on the water, and 
 loosely tied at either end to the banks. As I 
 sank knee-deep in water when the log went 
 down under my weight, it was no easy task to 
 keep from tumbling off. What would it be 
 on a log drifting free on a swift stream? 
 
Floating Logs 8i 
 
 So the work goes on, year in, year out, 
 bringing the valuable logs from the forests 
 down to the sawmills, where they are cut up 
 into useful sizes and shipped all over the 
 world. 
 
 The mission dispensary here helps the 
 people who work on the logs and rafts. One 
 evening two men were out bringing in logs, 
 and saw what they thought was another log 
 drifting down toward them. They paddled 
 their canoe toward it. Suddenly they dis- 
 covered that it was not a log at all, but a 
 huge tiger swimming the stream. 
 
 The brute gave chase, and as they came to 
 a shallow part of the river, the tiger gained 
 its footing and attacked the men in the canoe. 
 With its forepaws it grabbed at the thigh of 
 one of them, and badly tore it with its claws. 
 The man had the presence of mind to jam a 
 paddle down its throat, and so frightened it 
 off. The injured man was brought to the 
 mission dispensary, where the workers atr 
 tended to his wounds. 
 
© U. & U., N. Y. 
 
 A Native Sawmill 
 " Zhip — zhup ! Zhip — zhup ! " Up and down goes the big saw. 
 
THE WAY YOUR HOUSE WOULD 
 BE BUILT 
 
 A Native Sawmill — Strange Methods in Carpentry 
 — Using Toes for. Fingers 
 
 '* Zhip — zhup! Zhip — zhup!" Up and 
 down goes the big saw, slowly ripping up 
 the tree trunk, while the sawdust (or saw 
 food, as the Burmese call it) spurts out at 
 each stroke. 
 
 The men have erected what is called a 
 saw pit, and in it they are cutting up wood 
 for the house building. If there is a place 
 with a convenient hole in the ground already, 
 then there will be something that looks like 
 an actual pit; but if not, the sawyers will 
 probably get along with everything above 
 ground level. The pit saves them the labor 
 of lifting the logs up on the sawing platform. 
 Burmese are not very ambitious, so it does not 
 seem to matter how much trouble is caused 
 later on. They consider that they have saved 
 themselves the work of digging a pit. 
 
84 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 It takes two men to work the saw, one 
 being on the ground and the other on the 
 platform which supports the tree trunk. 
 Naturally the work done in such a way is 
 not so regular as that done at the sawmill; 
 but it is really surprising how accurately 
 these men can work. Generally they are paid 
 for making so many cuts, each twelve cubits 
 (eighteen feet) long and a span wide; so the 
 more boards one orders to be cut out of a 
 log, the more he must pay for the work of 
 cutting it up. 
 
 These men are working for Ah Ku, who, 
 after saving up for some years, now has 
 enough money on hand to enable him to 
 start building himself a better house. Some 
 little while ago he came to me with a re- 
 quest that I go to the government office and 
 secure him a permit to cut the trees he 
 needed; and that is how I learned that he 
 planned to build a house. You see, in order 
 to stop the waste of valuable trees, the gov- 
 ernment permits villagers to cut down with- 
 out permission, only trees fit for nothing but 
 firewood. This permission is supposed to be 
 granted free, except in the case of specially 
 
Building Your House 85 
 
 valuable woods, like teak, which are taxed 
 unless required for a public purpose, such 
 as a village bridge or school; but actually, 
 the villagers fear much that their country- 
 man, who may happen to be the petty govern- 
 ment official whose duty it is to give the 
 necessary license, will demand some gift for 
 himself. 
 
 Once the license has been granted, ar- 
 rangements are made for the selected trees 
 to be stamped with the government mark. 
 Then a license must be secured to make a saw 
 pit. Each of these occasions seems to de- 
 mand a little gift. So the missionary is not 
 infrequently called upon to protect the in- 
 terests of his friends in such matters. 
 
 The taxes that the government collects 
 on teak and other valuable woods, pay for 
 the expense of guarding the forests from 
 wastage or damage, and, too, some consid- 
 erable amount is left over for other useful 
 enterprises, such as schools, road building, 
 and the like. 
 
 Ah Ku has his trees felled now, and the 
 men are busy cutting out the big square posts, 
 seven or eight inches thick, and the other 
 
86 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 pieces required for the joists and rafters. 
 Thtn the planking for the walls and flooring 
 must be cut. For the roof, tiles will be 
 brought a good many miles across country 
 by bullock cart. 
 
 Watch the carpenter. He does not have 
 a bench at which to work, but sits astride the 
 piece he is planing. If it happens to be the 
 edge of a plank that he is working on, then 
 he will drive two pegs into the ground, one 
 on each side of the board; and these serve to 
 keep the work steady. If he should be cut- 
 ting a joint with a chisel, he may use his feet 
 to help hold the wood firm. 
 
 We have worn shoes so much of our lives 
 that we do not realize how much can be done 
 with our toes and feet in the way of holding 
 objects. These people are able to pick up 
 small articles with their toes almost as readily 
 as with their fingers. The carpenter is not 
 the only one who holds his work steady with 
 his feet; the shoemaker also does the same 
 thing, thus leaving his hands free for his 
 tools. This, of course, suits their habit of 
 squatting on the ground to work. It is all 
 very interesting to the foreigner. 
 
Building Your House 87 
 
 When a number of posts and joists are 
 ready, Ah Ku will begin the building. First 
 of all he must dig the holes in the ground 
 into which the posts are to fit. But he does not 
 use a shovel for this work. 
 
 There is one of his sons at work digging 
 a hole. We should find it hard to do much, 
 crouching in such a position, for he is squat- 
 ting there on his haunches, with his knees 
 under his chin, poking away with a blunt 
 tool that brings the earth up very slowly. 
 It is a convenient position though, for when 
 the hlwa thamah or the let thamah (the saw- 
 yer or the carpenter) feels inclined to chat, 
 why, one is already comfortably seated, and 
 so can carry on the conversation without the 
 least inconvenience. 
 
 One by one the posts are slipped into the 
 holes dug for them; and until the joists are 
 fastened on, they will be held upright by 
 laths nailed on and arranged like a tripod. 
 For a plumb line with which to see if each 
 post is standing properly upright. Ah Ku has 
 an old bottle tied to the end of a thin rope; 
 and although it is rough-and-ready, as we 
 should say, it serves the purpose to his satis- 
 
Burmese Natives at Home 
 
 Notice the thatched roof, the matting wall, and the swinging 
 
 window, also of matting. The high foundation posts 
 
 keep the floor dry in the rainy season. 
 
Building Your House 89 
 
 faction. He has not money enough to buy 
 more elaborate tools. 
 
 Once the frame and the floor of the house 
 are in place, the family will probably " move 
 in " to their new quarters, and build the walls 
 round themselves little by little afterward, 
 finishing the roof in the same way. For the 
 time being, some rough matting will serve to 
 partition off a part, and a thatch will make a 
 roof, so they can get along. 
 
 They must wait until after the next rice 
 crop has been gathered in and sold before 
 they will have money enough to buy all the 
 materials needed; and as far as the work of 
 building is concerned, Ah Ku and his sons 
 will do most of it when they are not busy in 
 the fields. 
 
 Then, too, by moving into the new house, 
 they can pull down the old one, and use 
 whatever material in it is still good. 
 
 When all is finished, they will have a 
 really substantial house. Everything will be 
 on the one floor, about six feet above the 
 ground, with a large veranda outside, part of 
 it roofed and part uncovered. Inside there 
 will be just the main living-room, about 
 
90 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 twenty feet square, with a smaller room off 
 from it. For a cooking place a heavy 
 wooden frame is filled with clay, making a 
 cheap hearthstone; on this some bricks or 
 stones will be placed as supports for the 
 cooking pots. 
 
 Cooking over a wood fire on such an open 
 fireplace, and inside the living-room too, will 
 mean that there will be a good deal of smoke, 
 and it will not be long before the nice, 
 fresh, reddish tint of the newly planed wood 
 (much of which is what is called pyinma) 
 will disappear, and the whole place will be 
 smoked and grimy. Up in the rafters a 
 medley of fish traps, yokes for the oxen, spin- 
 ning wheels, and a variety of other gear will 
 in time accumulate, all to catch their share 
 of smoke and grime. Yet, while we should 
 probably find them a poor sort of place to call 
 our home, these wooden houses, with their 
 floors well up from the ground, and the ceil- 
 ings of the room quite lofty, are much health- 
 ier for the people than the poor mud huts in 
 which so many live, across the Bay of Bengal 
 in India. Every country has its own kind of 
 house, adapted to its special conditions. 
 
Building Your House 91 
 
 Little by little the seeds of Christian 
 education are sown among the people, and 
 their houses, as well as their lives, are puri- 
 fied and brightened. Home becomes to them 
 what it is to us, a foretaste of the mansions 
 which Jesus is preparing for those who look 
 for His appearing. 
 
GETTING FOOD FROM THE RIVERS 
 
 Wading in High Water — Aung Baw's Fish Trap — 
 Catching Fish Wholesale — Strange Nets 
 
 Rain, rain, rain! It seems as if it will 
 never stop. For days past it has poured 
 down with hardly a break. Out in front of 
 the house the river has steadily risen, and 
 now is creeping over the banks, till we can 
 see it shining through the grass. Farther 
 down the river, where the ground is some- 
 what lower, the water is a foot or more deep 
 over the bank; so, were we on the launch, 
 which lands its passengers at that point, we 
 should have to wade to dry land with the 
 water up to our knees. 
 
 Ah, the sun is struggling to shine through 
 the clouds, so let us come out and watch the 
 stream for a little while. We put on shoes 
 that have a few eyelets fixed in the uppers, 
 just above the sole near the instep, so that 
 when the shoes get filled with water, the 
 water will drain away without difficulty. If 
 we stopped to take them off every time they 
 
94 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 filled with water, we should not make much 
 progress. 
 
 There is a fish trap such as Aung Baw 
 keeps under his roof. It is a strong basket 
 made of split bamboo, and is about four feet 
 long and a foot or more across. One end is 
 pointed like a torpedo, while the other has a 
 funnel-shaped collar fitted into it, with an 
 opening left in the center. This wider end 
 is fixed toward the direction from which the 
 current flows. 
 
 Above, there is a door all ready to slide 
 down and completely close the opening. 
 Whenever a fish swims in and starts eating 
 the bait, it releases the door. The owner 
 of the trap can go about his other work, 
 coming now and then to see if he has caught 
 anything. 
 
 There is another way of catching fish, 
 which is much used in the rainy season, but 
 is useful only for very narrow streams. 
 
 At some convenient place where the 
 stream is about ten or twelve feet wide, a close 
 fence is made of bamboo and other sticks, 
 which are driven into the mud at the bottom. 
 As far as possible all the little holes in the 
 
Food from the Rivers 95 
 
 fence are filled up. It must be high enough 
 so that the stream cannot flow over it except 
 at one place in the center, which is about two 
 feet wide. Leading from this gap in the top 
 of the fence, a sort of platform is built, which 
 stretches on the surface of the water perhaps 
 six or eight feet down the stream. The bot- 
 tom of it is of closely plaited bamboo, 
 through which the water, but not the fish, 
 can pass. It also has sides to prevent them 
 from wriggling off over the edges. This 
 platform slopes up slightly; so as the water 
 comes rushing along and cannot get past the 
 fence, except through the gap in the middle, 
 it is all strained through the platform, leav- 
 ing the fish, big and little, squirming and 
 wriggling behind. 
 
 Even the tiny little fellows just hatched 
 out of their eggs are caught in this way; and 
 it makes one wonder how a fish ever escapes 
 to grow big. The " catch " of fish is taken 
 home and cleaned, and packed with salt, so as 
 to keep for the larger part of the year. This 
 forms one of the principal " relishes " that 
 the people have to eat with their rice. The 
 salted fish is cooked into a sort of thin stew. 
 
96 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 Where there is a stretch of low, marshy 
 country, still another method of fishing is 
 employed. This time the bamboo is split 
 into thin strips about a third of an inch thick 
 and four or five feet long. These are laid 
 side by side and fastened together by strings 
 passed under and over, so as to make up 
 lengths of screening which can be rolled up 
 and easily carried about. Often one sees 
 similar screening used in hot countries, as 
 sun blinds; but here it has a different use. 
 
 Across a corner of the marsh a number of 
 stout stakes are driven into the mud, and to 
 these the lengths of screening are tied, so as 
 to form a light fence inclosing the corner 
 from the rest of the marsh, except for a 
 gateway which is left open at times. 
 
 When the gate is closed, the fishermen 
 go within the inclosure and wade about with 
 nets fixed on handles, like butterfly or shrimp- 
 ing nets. In this way they catch all the fish 
 which may have been unfortunate enough to 
 swim inside. When the " catch " has been 
 made, the gateway is opened again and left 
 so, until it is thought that there are enough 
 fish inside to make it worth while wading 
 
Food from the Rivers 97 
 
 up and down again ; and then once more the 
 process is repeated. 
 
 In the dry season, when the big rivers 
 are neither so swift nor so muddy as they 
 are in the rainy weather, the fishing is done 
 with nets. Sometimes a long net, eight or 
 ten feet broad, is used, light wooden floats 
 being fixed to one edge, and small stone or 
 metal weights to the other. This net is 
 swiftly passed out over the side of a moving 
 canoe, and floats in the water upright like a 
 wall, the weights causing the one edge to 
 sink, and the floats keeping the other on the 
 surface. 
 
 After being left in this way for a while, 
 with each end secured in a canoe, the force 
 of the stream naturally pulls the net into the 
 form of a crescent; and then the canoes at the 
 end gradually row to the shore, drawing to- 
 gether as they go, and often inclosing within 
 the net a good number of fish. 
 
 Other nets are made up into a circular 
 shape, about twenty feet or so across, and 
 having small weights fastened to the edge. 
 This net is held in the center by a man 
 wading in the shallow water, who throws it 
 7 
 
98 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 so that it may fall like a bell on the water, 
 gradually sinking and drawing in as it goes. 
 Quite large fish are caught in this way. 
 
 The people make their own nets. This 
 provides them with something to do during 
 the dry season, when it is not possible to cul- 
 tivate the fields according to their usual 
 methods. 
 
 According to the Buddhist teaching, it 
 is held to be very wrong indeed to take life 
 in any form; so fishing is not thought to be 
 a nice occupation; but the fishermen con- 
 sole themselves by saying that, after all, they 
 do not kill the fish, but the fish just die of 
 themselves when they are taken out of the 
 water. In the same way, many of the peo- 
 ple excuse themselves for eating meat, by 
 saying that the butcher had killed the animals 
 before they went to buy, so it was not their 
 fault that the poor things' lives were taken. 
 They also eat the flesh of animals which have 
 died naturally; but this, while it certainly 
 clears their religious scruples about taking 
 life, is very unhealthful. 
 
 As I have watched the fisher folk at their 
 work, I have many times thought of those 
 
Food from the Rivers 
 
 99 
 
 humble fishermen of old, who, having re- 
 ceived the Lord into their hearts for them- 
 selves, under His blessing became fishers of 
 men, and the foundation of His church. So 
 I have been encouraged to believe that some 
 of these simple folk of Burma would become 
 faithful workers in the gospel cause — and 
 some have. 
 
 High Water 
 Rain, rain, rain ! It seems as if it will never stop. 
 
BUDDHIST BOYS IN THE 
 MONASTERIES 
 
 Entering the Kyaung — Begging for Food — A Sad 
 Belief — A Young Heart Touched 
 
 Shwe Tha was on his way home from 
 the monastery. A bright, intelligent-looking 
 boy about fifteen years old, he was bowing 
 down before a Buddhist monk when I first 
 noticed him. This is not an uncommon sight 
 in Burma, and is typical of the respect shown 
 by people in Eastern countries to their reli- 
 gious teachers. 
 
 We were going up the river Salwin by 
 steam launch. When the monk reached his 
 village, I made friends with the boy. 
 
 "Why do you worship the pongyi 
 (monk) ? " I asked, as I sat down on the 
 deck beside him. 
 
 "" Thakin (sir), that is what I was taught 
 to do in the kyaung (monastery)." 
 
 " Oh, so you have been to the monastery, 
 have you? " From the answer to this ques- 
 tion I learned that Shwe Tha had left the 
 
I02 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 monastery only a short time before, and was 
 now on his way to his village. 
 
 It is the rule for every Buddhist boy in 
 Burma to go to the monastery for a short 
 period, if only for a few days. This is apart 
 from any time he may spend there learning 
 the ordinary lessons of reading, writing, and 
 arithmetic. Although he may attend some 
 other school for that purpose, he will pass 
 a short time in the monastery, wearing the 
 yellow robe like a regular monk, and receiv- 
 ing special teaching in his religious duties. 
 
 When a boy is about to enter the kyaung 
 in this way, his friends make a feast in his 
 honor, and presents are given to the monks 
 who are to take the boy under their charge. 
 
 Certain monasteries become famous all 
 over the country, just like some of our col- 
 leges; and boys will come from great dis- 
 tances to be received into them, although 
 practically every village has its own monas- 
 tery, with one or two monks in it. Perhaps 
 a number of other boys in the village are to 
 go in at the same time; and if this should be 
 the case, maybe they will all go in procession 
 through the streets, their friends following 
 
In the Monasteries . 103 
 
 after them. It is said that this procession is 
 to remind people that the founder of the 
 Buddhist religion, who was a prince, gave up 
 his earthly friends in order to become a monk. 
 It serves a real purpose, the same as wedding 
 and other processions in the East, in giving 
 notice to the whole village that a special 
 event has taken place. 
 
 After the feast is over, the boy goes to ' 
 the monastery, where his head is shaved (he 
 usually wears his hair long like a girl's), and 
 he prays that he may be admitted as a shin- 
 byu, that is, as a beginner in the order of 
 monks. He is then robed in the usual yellow 
 garments, the begging bowl is hung round 
 his neck, and he is left to spend some time 
 as a pupil of the pongyis. Perhaps he will 
 stay as long as three or four months; but very 
 often about a week is all the time that is so 
 spent. 
 
 Now he must live just like a monk. 
 Early next morning he is roused up with the 
 others by the tones of the wooden bell, which 
 is sounded just before daylight. So many 
 times I have heard it, — klonk, klonk, — not 
 altogether unmusical either, sounding out in 
 
I04 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 the chill, damp morning air. In the monas- 
 tery this means that all must get up, from the 
 gray-haired seniors to the boys just admitted; 
 and then after all have tidied themselves, the 
 morning prayers are said. 
 
 Now comes the part of the daily round 
 that most impresses us v^ho are strangers ; for 
 all must go out and beg the day's food. In 
 a single file the yellow-robed, barefooted 
 figures walk slowly down the village street, 
 the hands of each clasped round the begging 
 bowl as it hangs in front of him. No word 
 or look of thanks may be given as the devout 
 heap in their gifts; for it is their belief that 
 the giver has been favored by this oppor- 
 tunity of doing a good work. Perhaps the 
 bowls are filled before the round of the vil- 
 lage is completed, but that does not matter, 
 for the extra food can be given to the birds 
 and dogs, who are equally needy of food. 
 
 Strictly, the monks should eat no food 
 other than that which has been thus begged ; 
 but in many cases another meal is cooked, the 
 offerings received along the village streets 
 being all given to the birds and dogs. Al- 
 though all of them must go out and beg food 
 
In the Monasteries 105 
 
 in this way, many of the pongyis are quite 
 wealthy, for a great deal is given to them as 
 presents on the occasion of various ceremonies 
 and feasts. They are not supposed to handle 
 gold and silver; so if they are at all rigid 
 in their efforts to obey their law, they find it 
 a little difficult to be faultless nowadays. 
 For instance, when they travel, like every 
 one else they must purchase the necessary 
 tickets. Sometimes they will have a boy or 
 other servant with them who carries the 
 money, so that they themselves do not have 
 to touch it. 
 
 It is quite a common sight, though, to 
 see a pongyi traveling alone on a street car, 
 carrying his money wrapped in paper; and 
 he hands this to the conductor, who takes out 
 the amount required for the fare, rewraps 
 the change, and hands it back; and thus the 
 monk himself does not actually touch the 
 money, but only the paper in which it is 
 wrapped. 
 
 During the daytime the younger members 
 of the monastery are required to study the 
 sacred books, committing much to memory. 
 These books are frequently written on pages 
 
io6 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 made from the leaves of a certain tree, which 
 have been pressed out quite flat and cut into 
 pieces about twelve or fifteen inches by three, 
 tied together by strings and laced through 
 holes in one of the shorter sides. 
 
 While the juniors are so engaged, the 
 older monks spend a good deal of time just 
 quietly sitting and thinking, for they believe 
 that this is very helpful to the living of a 
 good life and the gaining of deliverance. 
 No food is taken after midday, so the second 
 and last meal of the day is eaten just before 
 the sun reaches its highest point in the heav- 
 ens, and the shadows begin to slope toward 
 the east for the dying of the day. 
 
 Evening time sees all gathered together 
 once more for prayers; and after the recita- 
 tion by the younger ones of all the lessons 
 they have ever learned, and the chanting of 
 the praises of Gautama Buddha by all, the 
 day closes with worshiping before his image. 
 Solemnly they retire to rest; and it is this 
 quiet routine of monastery life coming in the 
 experience of nearly every young man in 
 Burma, which so deeply roots Buddhism in 
 him. 
 
In the Monasteries 107 
 
 Sometimes a man will leave his regular 
 work and his family for a while, in order to 
 spend a few months in the monastery in a 
 similar way. 
 
 While this religion of the people of 
 Burma sets before them some good laws, ac- 
 cording to which they are expected to live, 
 yet it has much in it that must make us sad. 
 It teaches that there is no God at all, so that 
 the Buddhist receives no help from any 
 higher being in his endeavor to live aright; 
 nor does he enjoy the peace which comes 
 from faith in a God of love and mercy, and 
 of infinite power. Moreover, the world, ac- 
 cording to his belief, always was and always 
 will be sinful and a place of sorrow; and 
 there can be no real happiness whatever in 
 life. 
 
 The healthiest man may fall a victim to 
 any and every disease; the very strongest of 
 all must die; and after death the wealthiest 
 man in the world has no more than the 
 meanest beggar. The more healthy a man 
 is, the more terrible for him the thought of 
 the helplessness of the sick; the stronger he 
 is, the more dreadful for him the knowledge 
 
io8 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 that some day he must lie cold in death; and 
 the richer he may be, the more unwilling 
 he will be to leave his wealth behind. So 
 all longing for what this world has, and for 
 life, only gives rise to added sorrow; and the 
 only way to true happiness is to try to over- 
 come all desire for life and the things it 
 brings. 
 
 Some of their books say the man who 
 started this religion — his name was Gau- 
 tama, and he lived many hundreds of years 
 ago — was so anxious to be quite free from 
 everything that might make him want to 
 continue life, that he actually gave away his 
 wife and his own little child, to a man who 
 wanted them as slaves. However that may 
 be, we do know that he forsook his family, 
 leaving them to care for themselves, desir- 
 ing only to try to find some way by which 
 he might free himself from anything and 
 everything that might bring him sorrow. 
 
 How different all this is from the record 
 of Jesus, who, though He was surrounded by 
 perfect happiness and peace, of His own free 
 will came to this earth that He might bear 
 our sorrows, and so help us escape from 
 
In the Monasteries 109 
 
 them. As for ourselves, instead of doing 
 things just to be free from sorrow and care, 
 we should, like Jesus and Moses, be ready 
 to bear the sorrows of all. We should even 
 be ready to endure eternal separation from 
 God, if that would help our fellow men to 
 obtain forgiveness of their sins. 
 
 Well, now, I have told you so much about 
 the life my young friend Shwe Tha lived 
 while in the monastery, that you will have 
 almost forgotten him; but now you will un- 
 derstand how he came to go there at all, and 
 a little of what he was taught to believe. 
 
 After leaving the steam launch, he had 
 some eighteen or twenty miles more to travel; 
 and Shwe Tha was expecting to have to 
 walk all that way, carrying his parcel of 
 clothing with him. How happy he was 
 when we gave him an invitation to travel in 
 the little mission launch, which was wait- 
 ing for me at the place where the steamer 
 stopped. It did not take him long to accept, 
 and away we started. 
 
 At that time I had been away from 
 Burma for some little while, having been 
 transferred to India, where they speak a dif- 
 
no Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 ferent language; so I thought this would 
 be a good chance to revive my knowledge 
 of Burmese, and meanwhile benefit Shwe 
 Tha. 
 
 Out came my Burmese Testament, — for 
 our good Bible is to be had in many of these 
 strange languages, — and I told the boy that 
 I wanted him to correct my reading, and talk 
 with me about the story I was going to read 
 to him. In this way the two or three hours 
 we had together passed pleasantly and 
 quickly, and of course he was much inter- 
 ested in what I read to him. 
 
 It is quite common in some Eastern coun- 
 tries for religious teachers to have one or 
 more disciples living and traveling with 
 them, and this boy wanted to be my disciple. 
 I had to tell him that I was sorry that this 
 could not be arranged, as I was in his coun- 
 try only for a very short visit, and would 
 soon be returning to the " foreign country," 
 which is a name by which Burmans often 
 refer to India. I am hoping to meet him 
 again some day. 
 
 In our traveling round the country we 
 meet different friends, and learn from them 
 
In the Monasteries 1 1 1 
 
 something of the way in which they live; 
 and in return, we try to impart to all some 
 knowledge of the way of life, wherein is 
 perfect peace. 
 
 Bowing Down to a Monk 
 
HOW YOUNG BURMANS MAKE 
 MERRY 
 
 A Water Festival — Attack on a Boat — The Light 
 Feast — Buddha's Tooth — Funeral Fireworks 
 
 " Look out! " 
 
 I jumped aside just in time to avoid be- 
 ing drenched with a pail of water thrown 
 at the street car by a young scamp. 
 
 You see it was the Burmese water fes- 
 tival, and young Burma was out to have a 
 good time. There were long squirts, tin 
 cans, and pails — anything that would hold 
 water was being used. Every one was join- 
 ing in the merrymaking. 
 
 A strange way of making merry, you may 
 think, soaking other people and getting 
 soaked oneself; but on a hot day — and this 
 water festival comes in the hot season — it 
 must be good fun, provided one is dressed 
 for the occasion. 
 
 Just what the reason for the festival is, it 
 is hard to say, for explanations differ; but 
 the great majority of the people do not con- 
 
 8 
 
114 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 cern themselves with that question; and for 
 them it is simply a fact that everybody has 
 a holiday and makes merry. 
 
 The celebration is naturally restricted in 
 a city like Rangoon, where there are many 
 foreign residents who hardly appreciate the 
 fun from the Burmese viewpoint. But out 
 of town the old-time spirit goes on una- 
 bated. 
 
 One time we were traveling up the Sal- 
 win by launch on this particular festival. 
 As we drew into the village of Nat Hmaw, 
 we espied a crowd awaiting us. Hardly 
 had the nose of the launch run into the bank 
 when the battle began. Each of the wait- 
 ing villagers had a pail or a can, and rush- 
 ing into the river waist-deep, they began to 
 deluge the lower deck of the launch. The 
 passengers and crew returned the " attack," 
 even the launch's pump being pressed into 
 service. What laughing and shouting there 
 was! 
 
 There are a number of annual festivals. 
 These are made the occasion of much fun. 
 Even when there is no holiday, some one is 
 all the time arranging entertainments. 
 
Making Merry 115 
 
 They have such amusements at all times 
 of the year except during the Buddhist Lent. 
 This lasts about three months. As prac- 
 tically every Burmese entertainment, or 
 pway, as most of them are called, is held in 
 the open air, and the Lenten period comes 
 during the rainy season, one cannot help 
 thinking that perhaps the refraining from 
 festivities is as much the natural result of 
 the unsettled and rainy weather as of any 
 pious feeling of restraint. 
 
 In the autumn of the year a very great 
 festival is held. It is known to foreigners 
 as the " light feast." In India the Hindus 
 and Mohammedans each have a somewhat 
 similar celebration. 
 
 On this occasion practically every house 
 is decorated with little lights placed along 
 its main outlines. Hundreds of thousands of 
 little candles, and tiny dishes of oil with 
 floating wicks, are lighted up, and it all 
 looks very pretty indeed. 
 
 In the big cities like Rangoon the in- 
 habitants of certain streets band themselves 
 together to provide a common fund for dec- 
 orations. So whole streets will be decked 
 
ii6 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 out with Chinese lanterns and colored paper 
 screens and scenery. Sometimes a theatrical 
 party will be engaged to give a public en- 
 tertainment. 
 
 In the large monastery compounds some 
 wealthy persons who are desirous of acquir- 
 ing " merit " for their good works, will give 
 entertainments to which will go vast crowds. 
 The whole place, instead of its usual quiet 
 air of religious meditation, will have the 
 appearance of an all-night fair, with side 
 shows, dramatic performances, and eating 
 shops; and till early dawn the sounds of 
 Burmese bands rend the air, making sleep 
 impossible for those who chance to live 
 near by. No Burman, though, would want 
 to sleep ; all who can, go to see the shows, 
 snatching a little nap during the intervals 
 of the performance or while the musicians 
 have a rest. 
 
 At such a national shrine as the big Shwe 
 Dagon Pagoda in Rangoon, the crowds are 
 enormous. Some few years ago a relic of 
 Gautama Buddha, claimed to be one of his 
 teeth, was discovered in India, and was pre- 
 sented to the people of Burma. With great 
 
Making Merry 117 
 
 pomp it arrived in the country, and was con- 
 veyed to the platform of the pagoda. It 
 was in a magnificently wrought casket. 
 
 Up the long flight of stairs leading from 
 the road, thousands upon thousands toiled, 
 not so much to make obeisance to the tooth as 
 to have a part in the fun that went on above. 
 Along this staircase, and upon the platform 
 itself, are a number of buildings used as 
 reception-rooms; and on festival occasions 
 these are occupied by wealthy people who 
 entertain their friends lavishly. On such 
 nights these places are ablaze with lights 
 and thronged by crowds. 
 
 In a building down on the main road, 
 refreshments are available for all who care 
 to partake of them, there being regular 
 meals for the poor, and even European re- 
 freshments for foreign visitors. 
 
 The huge pagoda itself is lighted by 
 strings of electric lamps; and here and there 
 on the great marble platform surrounding 
 it, different shows are in progress. 
 
 What a strange scene it is, to be sure! 
 The crowds seem bent on merrymaking; but 
 here and there a pious group can be seen 
 
ii8 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 kneeling before a candle-lighted shrine, mut- 
 tering unknown prayers, intent only on their 
 own devotions and oblivious of the surging 
 throngs that stumble past them. 
 
 On the rivers the light feasts acquire an 
 added point of beauty; for little rafts of 
 lamps are released, to float away on the 
 stream till some bend of the river hides 
 them from sight. Also, at times boat races 
 are held in big canoes holding twelve or 
 fifteen persons, men and women taking part. 
 In some parts of the country the paddlers 
 are assisted by men who stand up and use 
 their feet as paddles. 
 
 Not all the festivals take place at night, 
 but some are held during the day, as for 
 instance the Zwegobin festival, which is held 
 on the plain below the big hill near which 
 Aung Baw lives. One year I happened to 
 go through that section while this festival 
 was in progress. Large bands of people 
 had collected there. Formed into groups, 
 they were going through a kind of dancing, 
 very much like bands of trained gymnasts. 
 I suppose their pilgrimage included a visit 
 to the pagoda up on top of the hill, which 
 
Making Merry 119 
 
 must be two thousand feet or more high. 
 A large part of the way up is said to re- 
 semble a rough staircase, making the ascent 
 very difficult. 
 
 Another occasion for great merrymaking 
 is the cremation of some famous monk. It 
 seems strange to talk of a cremation as an 
 occasion of merrymaking; but such is ac- 
 tually the case. When the monk dies, it is 
 customary to preserve the body, perhaps for 
 a year, in some way or other, rumor having 
 it that this is often done by packing it in 
 honey; for which reason the newcomer to 
 Burma is not infrequently warned never to 
 eat Burmese honey, lest it should be " second- 
 hand." However that may be, the reason 
 for preserving the corpse and thus delaying 
 the final cremation is to enable those inter- 
 ested to collect the funds necessary for a 
 great display. 
 
 Meanwhile the body lies in state in the 
 monastery until the time arrives. Then a 
 great pyre of sandalwood is built, theatrical 
 parties and bands are engaged, and free re- 
 freshments are provided. After several days 
 of merriment, and probably the giving of 
 
I20 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 presents to a number of monks, the actual 
 cremation takes place, the body being re- 
 moved from its temporary elaborate cofl^in 
 and placed on the sandalwood pyre. Per- 
 haps a display of fireworks will bring the 
 ceremonies to a close, and all will depart 
 feeling that they have had a good time. 
 
 One cannot help comparing the so-called 
 religious beliefs of the Burmese with the 
 actual practice of their lives; for there is 
 a great difiference between the two. In his 
 endeavor to obtain the peace he sought, 
 Gautama Buddha turned his back on the 
 pleasures of this world, and urged all men 
 to follow him in this. The Burman, though, 
 seeks to make of every circumstance of life 
 an occasion for fun. Births, naming cere- 
 monies, the entering of the monastery by 
 young boys, marriage, and even death itself, 
 provide him with fresh excuses for an enter- 
 tainment; while the regular round of pagoda 
 festivals insures a steady series of jollifi- 
 cations should the other events be too few 
 and far between. 
 
 Gautama Buddha was right in warning 
 men to avoid the allurements of this world's 
 
Making Merry 121 
 
 pleasures; but he was wrong in teaching that 
 humankind always was sinful and doomed 
 to sorrow, and that we exist apart from any 
 god; for thereby he has robbed his follow- 
 ers of all belief in the wisdom and power of 
 God, who, having worked to create His per- 
 fect universe, is still working to uphold it, 
 and to re-create man and this world free 
 from sin and sorrow. So the Burman seeks 
 his solace in a life of pleasure; but the only 
 hope for him lies in the gospel of Christ. 
 

 
 -- '•,i/^^\ 
 
 By Bullock Cart in Burma 
 
 Ox-carts are terribly slow conveyances, according to our 
 Western notions. 
 
BY CANOE AND BULLOCK CART 
 THROUGH THE FLOODS 
 
 Making a Canoe — Water Spirits — Getting Wet — 
 Orchids and Ferns — Dak Bungalows 
 
 Sunshine or rain — which are we go- 
 ing to have? 
 
 Our interest in the weather was not un- 
 natural, for it was the rainy season, and we 
 had ahead of us a three days' journey in a 
 canoe. When we left Rangoon on this trip 
 to find a place along the banks of the Sal- 
 win for a Karen mission station, we had 
 intended to take a large covered boat from 
 Shwegon, the point at which the steam 
 launch stopped; but we found that no such 
 boat was available just then, and that we 
 would either have to go back, or make the 
 best of it in a small open canoe. So when 
 the sky looked clear as we were ready to 
 start, we felt much relieved. 
 
 The canoe that we hired was manned 
 by three Burmans, including the steersman; 
 and by the time our bedding and food sup- 
 
124 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 plies and our two selves were loaded in, it 
 was quite full. Each of us had a narrow 
 seat to himself, and barely enough room in 
 front to crowd his legs into. 
 
 Burmese canoes are hollowed out of tree 
 trunks. After being felled and carefully 
 chosen, the trunks are allowed to dry for 
 several months before further work is done. 
 The work of scooping out the hollow is slow, 
 for it is done partly by burning out the 
 wood, and partly by chipping; but in due 
 course the desired shape is finished, and the 
 outside is smoothed down and rubbed over 
 with oil. A narrow planking is added to 
 the sides to make them higher, and seats are 
 built in across the canoe. 
 
 The hollowing out stops some little dis- 
 tance from each of the two ends, both of 
 which are shaped into a flat seat for a steers- 
 man, so the canoe can be paddled along 
 in either direction without much difficulty. 
 The back end usually has a longer seat than 
 the front. 
 
 These boats may vary in size from a 
 small canoe in which only one or two per- 
 sons can ride, to a large boat intended for 
 
By Canoe and Bullock Cart 125 
 
 carrying rice to the mills, which will hold 
 several hundred baskets of grain and require 
 six or eight men to row it. A large boat 
 of this description has a kind of cabin built 
 at one end. For this purpose a roof of 
 matting, oiled to make it water-tight, is 
 arched over from one side to the other. The 
 ends are closed in with board walls, each 
 having a door in the middle. 
 
 For the steersman there is an armchair, 
 sometimes elaborately carved, perched high 
 up at one end.^ In this he can look out 
 over the cabin and direct the rowers in the 
 front part of the boat. Sails are used when 
 the wind is right; and if the boat is travel- 
 ing near the shore, it is usually poled along. 
 In small boats, leafy branches of trees are 
 frequently used as a sail, they being held up 
 to catch the wind while the people in the 
 canoe have a rest from paddling. It is really 
 surprising how rapidly a boat will go with 
 this crude device. 
 
 One time I saw a man who had no canoe 
 at all, but who had made himself a little 
 raft on which to travel downstream ; this was 
 nothing but a few plantain tree stems, two 
 
126 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 laid one way and two the other, on which 
 the man sat happily under his umbrella, 
 drifting swiftly down the flooded stream. 
 Probably he had some sort of paddle with 
 him so that at his destination he could draw 
 in shore; and there he must have left his 
 frail raft to drift away. 
 
 The boat we had hired had no sort of 
 cabin or covering overhead at all, so we 
 were out in the weather, whatever might 
 come. 
 
 Before starting out on a trip with the 
 annual rice crop, or for other important pur- 
 poses, it is usual for the boatmen to make 
 offerings to the spirits of the water, fearing 
 that if this were not done, all sorts of mishaps 
 might befall them. 
 
 Everything unpleasant that could occur 
 on a river journey is said to be the fault of 
 the mischievous spirits. If the men should 
 run into a rock, though it might be because 
 they themselves were careless, they would 
 say it was the fault of some spirit who had 
 unkindly put the rock in their way. The 
 boatmen might forget to fasten the boat or 
 an oar securely; and should any accident 
 
By Canoe and Bullock Cart 127 
 
 happen as a result, that too would be the 
 fault of the spirits, but never of themselves. 
 
 So they think it just as well to try to 
 make the spirits happy, in the hope that no 
 trouble will arise. I am sure they would 
 do better if they were more careful, and so 
 kept freer from accidents; but that is not 
 their way. 
 
 It does not cost much to make an offering 
 to the spirits; for although a quantity of fruit 
 and cocoanuts and other good things are 
 piled up on a tray and offered, the spirit 
 beings do not actually eat them, but seem 
 satisfied that all these are brought together; 
 and then after the ceremony is over, Mr. 
 Boat Owner and his crew of men sit down 
 and feast on the ofiferings. 
 
 This is what some Hindu shoemakers I 
 knew, used to do. Once a year they would 
 arrange their knives and other tools in a row, 
 and offer a quantity of cocoanuts and fruit 
 to them, so that the implements would work 
 well for the next year, and not slip and cut 
 them, or otherwise cause mischief; and then 
 the men would divide all the offerings and 
 eat them themselves. 
 
128 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 It being some weeks after the commence- 
 ment of the annual rainy season, the river 
 was flooded. The men had hard work pad- 
 dling the canoe along. To avoid the full 
 force of the current, they kept close to the 
 bank wherever possible. This meant that 
 sometimes we passed right in among the 
 trees, for the lower bank had been over- 
 flowed. Advantage was taken of this to give 
 the rowers a little relief, by the steersman 
 often pushing against the trees with a long, 
 spiked pole, to send the boat along. 
 
 Our hopes of a fine day were soon ended, 
 for the clouds gathered and the rain poured 
 down; and there we sat in that little canoe 
 the whole day long, with the rain beating 
 down on us. We tried umbrellas, but the 
 water leaked through them. We endeavored 
 to remedy this by rubbing a candle along the 
 seams and around the hole where the stick 
 comes through; but after all, we had to put 
 the umbrellas down because of the canoe 
 passing throug'h trees with low-hanging 
 boughs. 
 
 At last we decided that there was nothing 
 else to do but sit still and get wet; and get 
 
By Canoe and Bullock Cart 129 
 
 wet we did. It was in July, and therefore 
 quite warm weather, yet by afternoon we felt 
 chilled through from having to sit still in 
 that canoe all day, soaked to the skin. 
 
 To our delight we came alongside a tim- 
 ber-rafting station; in one of the huts on a 
 raft there was a good fire, so we sat down 
 on the hearth and warmed and dried our- 
 selves. This was not the end of the day's 
 journey, however, for we still had a mile 
 or more to complete; but in an hour or so 
 we were able to camp for the night. In all 
 that day's journey we had covered only about 
 eighteen miles; so canoe traveling, against 
 a strong current, is not very fast. 
 
 Our camping place was quite comfort- 
 able, at least it seemed so after having been 
 cramped up in the little canoe all day. We 
 had reached the village of Kawkayet, which 
 is about a mile above where the mission sta- 
 tion was finally built at Kamamaung; there 
 we found a fine zayat, or rest house, in the 
 monastery inclosure. 
 
 These zayats are usually built by pious 
 persons for the benefit of the monks, as well 
 as for visitors and travelers; we were glad 
 9 
 
By Caiioe and Bullock Cart 131 
 
 indeed for the kindness of those who had 
 built this particular one. True enough, it 
 was only a floor and a roof, with a wall 
 along one side, but that was enough to keep 
 the wind and rain out; and down underneath 
 there was space for us to make a fire over 
 which to dry our clothes and bedding and to 
 do our cooking. 
 
 For the fireplace we soon found three 
 fair-sized stones on which to rest our earthen 
 cooking pot, and firewood was available in 
 great abundarrce. It was my task to cook, 
 while my companion. Elder G. A. Hamil- 
 ton, looked after the wet things, which must 
 be dried before we could start out again. 
 We had to do this before getting any sleep, 
 for everything we had was soaked. 
 
 Camp cooking is apt to be a little rough- 
 and-ready; but our keen appetites make up 
 for a good deal. I fear the hungry-looking 
 dogs which had been attracted by the smell 
 of what was going on, did not get many 
 pieces by the time we had finished. We had 
 the same bill of fare twice every day for 
 about three weeks, with the exception of one 
 day when supplies ran out, and we had to 
 
132 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 content ourselves with ship biscuit and con- 
 densed milk. 
 
 It was Friday afternoon when we reached 
 Kawkayet, so we spent the Sabbath there, 
 starting out again on Sunday morning. With 
 our camp cots fixed up in the zayat, we were 
 as happy as could be. 
 
 This village stands at the junction of the 
 Yonsalin tributary with the main Salwin 
 River; and it was along the former that we 
 started out early on Sunday morning, to con- 
 tinue our journey upstream. It is not pos- 
 sible to travel much farther along the 
 Salwin from this point, for a few miles up- 
 stream there are very big rapids over which 
 boats cannot travel, and one must go a long 
 distance across country in order to avoid 
 them, if he wishes to travel on the river far- 
 ther up. Timber rafts can come down over 
 the rapids when the river is at its highest 
 point; but even then it is a dangerous place. 
 
 I wish all could see the beautiful ferns 
 and orchids and other plants that we saw as 
 we journeyed along. Here and there the 
 whole river bank was overgrown with lovely 
 maidenhair ferns. Farther along there were 
 
By Canoe and Bullock Cart 133 
 
 masses of bright-green, velvety leaves, each 
 with five jet-black spots on it, much like the 
 impress of one's finger tips. All along 
 stretched a fringe of forest, and it seemed as 
 if every tree trunk was festooned with or- 
 chids and creepers. Occasionally a troop of 
 monkeys swung through the branches; here 
 and there a flock of peafowl, brilliant of 
 plumage, strutted about in search of their 
 morning meal. 
 
 Very few dwelling-houses were to be 
 seen, for the villagers seem to prefer to 
 screen themselves from the view of passers-by 
 on the river, and do not generally cut the 
 trees right on the bank. This may be a re- 
 minder of the old days when the country was 
 unsettled, and the different tribes were con- 
 tinually warring one against another. 
 
 Slowly we journeyed on, the current 
 growing swifter the farther we went, and our 
 progress slower as a result. About ten or 
 twelve miles was all we covered in the whole 
 day's rowing. The journey could hardly be 
 called tedious, however, so beautiful was 
 everything around us. Each new bend in 
 the river brought to view a fresh stretch of 
 
134 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 cloud-capped hills, for the river runs down a 
 very narrow valley; and on every hand were 
 giant trees and palms and plants in the 
 greatest profusion. Sometimes a lone duck 
 would be startled into flight by our coming, 
 or now and then a small cloud of bright- 
 hued butterflies winging by would delight 
 our eyes. 
 
 Riding in the canoe was not devoid of 
 excitement either. Continually we came to 
 places where a snag of rock standing out 
 from the bank, or a fallen tree behind which 
 the floating rubbish had accumulated, was 
 holding up the progress of the water, caus- 
 ing miniature rapids. Our boatmen would 
 have hard work to round these awkward 
 corners. 
 
 At times we almost seemed to be slipping 
 backward, so swift would the eddy be; but 
 with their shouts of '' Tek! tek! tek! " (Row! 
 row! row!) the men would ply their pad- 
 dles the harder, and slowly but surely we 
 would get past the obstruction. 
 
 About midday we pulled into a sand bank 
 and got out to stretch our cramped limbs 
 and eat our lunch, for the canoe was too nar- 
 
By Canoe and Bullock Cart 135 
 
 row to permit of our turning about and 
 undoing our packages as we went along. 
 
 Evening saw us at the village where we 
 were to pass the night, and this time we 
 were fortunate enough to have a dak bun- 
 galow to shelter us. These houses are built 
 by the government, mainly for the use of 
 the officials who must travel over the coun- 
 try, but they can be used also by other 
 respectable travelers; being supplied with 
 chairs, beds, tables, and other like conven- 
 iences, they are very comfortable places in 
 which to spend the night. Each house, ex- 
 cept a few which have no furniture in them 
 and which are intended only for halting 
 places during a day's march, is in charge of 
 a watchman, who sees that the place' is kept 
 clean, and keeps lamp oil on hand for sale 
 to visitors. 
 
 The next morning we had a look around 
 the place near the bungalow, and found only 
 a few poor huts, one being a little shop in 
 which such village necessaries as candles, 
 coir string, and similar articles were for sale. 
 One time the watchman from this particular 
 bungalow was carried ofif by a tiger, which 
 
136 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 will give you some idea of how lonely a 
 place it is. 
 
 Still another day's journey in the canoe 
 lay ahead of us; and the end of this brought 
 us to a point from which a good cart road 
 stretches across country, considerably short- 
 ening the distance; so we paid off our canoe 
 men, and arranged for a bullock cart to 
 take us on at daybreak next morning. 
 
 Before the first streaks of dawn we were 
 up, breakfast was cooked and eaten, our bed- 
 ding was packed, and a start made; but we 
 were not to get very far that day. The first 
 hindrance came about a quarter of a mile 
 from the bungalow, where the ruts were so 
 deeply cut in the road that the hub on one 
 wheel jammed on the road surface. 
 
 Being at a place where we were going 
 uphill, the oxen seemed unable to move at 
 all, and there was nothing else to be done 
 but to roughly repair the rut and bodily lift 
 that side of the cart out of it. Once past 
 this difficulty, everything seemed to go well 
 until about four miles had been covered; 
 and then we came to an obstacle which made 
 it impossible to go any farther that day. For 
 
By Canoe and Bullock Cart 137 
 
 days it had been raining steadily, with 
 scarcely any break at all, as we had found 
 to our discomfort in the canoe; and as a 
 result the forest streams were rushing tor- 
 rents. The one we had now reached was 
 bridged over, to be sure; but so swollen was 
 the stream that the water was four feet deep 
 on top of the bridge, and that was altogether 
 too much for the oxen to pass through. 
 
 Reluctantly we turned back, for the four 
 miles covered had meant two or three hours 
 of trudging behind the dawdling bullock 
 cart, and now it was all in vain; and who 
 could tell when the rain would stop, or what 
 trouble we might have next time getting the 
 cart over the bad place in the road that had 
 already held us up that morning? ' How- 
 ever, the delay was inevitable, so back we 
 went and once more settled ourselves in the 
 bungalow, hoping that the rain would slacken 
 enough to give us hope of getting ofif in the 
 morning; but we were to spend three whole 
 days in this house, waiting for the weather 
 to change. 
 
 The bungalow was certainly in a beauti- 
 ful place, for just here the river swung 
 
Chapel,' Kamamaung Mission 
 
By Canoe and Bullock Cart 139 
 
 around a sharp bend; and years of torren- 
 tial rains had worn away the banks till it 
 was a broad stream. All around were hills; 
 while scattered rocks divide the water into 
 swirls and eddies, making the crossing by the 
 canoe ferry an exciting journey. I must 
 confess, though, that in time the beauty of 
 the scenery and the excitement furnished by 
 the rushing of the flood seemed insufficient 
 to make up for the monotony of staying in 
 that bungalow while outside the rain poured 
 down incessantly. Moreover, provisions were 
 running low, and a diet of plain boiled rice 
 for an indefinite period did not seem any too 
 inviting; so it was a great relief when the 
 downpour abated enough so that by Friday 
 morning we could once more make a start. 
 
 This time, too, we stuck in that rut; but 
 having conquered it once, we did not let that 
 dismay us; and glad we were when the 
 bridge which had been our undoing earlier 
 in the week, came in sight, and we found 
 that the water had gone down so as to be 
 no more than knee-deep. 
 
 On we trudged, mile after mile, finding 
 new beauties in the foliage and in the bright 
 
140 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 colors of the butterflies and birds. Presently 
 we came across the fresh tracks of a deer 
 which had passed for a mile or more down 
 the road. Poor thing! there were other 
 tracks there too. Evidently a tiger had fol- 
 lowed it. Both trails turned ofif into the 
 jungle, and we saw no more of either; but 
 this was just a little sign of the daily trage- 
 dies that take place in the depths of the 
 forest. 
 
 Ten miles or so along we made our first 
 halt, an unfurnished bungalow being here for 
 the convenience of travelers, — just a little 
 clearing in the forest and a tiny mat-walled 
 house, with a gurgling brook near by, but 
 it seemed more beautiful to us than the finest 
 hotel could have been. 
 
 As fifteen miles still remained before we 
 could camp for the night, we had not long 
 to spend over breakfast, but hurried on. Ox- 
 carts are terribly slow conveyances, accord- 
 ing to our Western notions, making about 
 two miles an hour on an average, and a total 
 of ten miles a day on a long trip. This trip 
 we were making was just twenty-five miles 
 in all, and it is usual to make this distance 
 
By Canoe and Bullock Cart 141 
 
 all in one day; but if we had tried to over- 
 hurry the bullocks, they would have been 
 too tired to make such a long run. 
 
 Kway Thee Kyaung (Dead Dog Creek) 
 was the name of one stream we had to 
 pass, and a name not very suggestive of 
 civilization either. In fact, the road was 
 deserted; for apart from a cluster of houses 
 belonging to the men whose business it is to 
 repair the road, we passed hardly half a 
 dozen huts in the twenty-five miles. For a 
 companion we had a Chinaman, who was 
 very glad of permission to walk with us, as 
 he had the journey to make, but because of 
 the reputation the district has for tigers, was 
 afraid to go alone. 
 
 The tiger reputation is not unmerited 
 either, for one was shot within a mile or so 
 of the mission bungalow at Kamamaung, 
 and another mauled the man who was get- 
 ting logs not far away. 
 
 The village people catch such animals in 
 traps, or in pits at the bottom of which sharp 
 palings are fixed. Leopards also are han- 
 dled in this way. Only once do I remember 
 receiving definite news that a man had been 
 
142 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 killed and eaten by one of these animals; and 
 that was some ten miles from a village where 
 I was canvassing, and on a road over which 
 I had once been. Not infrequently calves 
 and other small animals are carried ofif. 
 
 The approach of dusk saw us at the end 
 of the road; and here, having paid off our 
 cartmen, we took the canoe ferry across the 
 stream, to camp again in a dak bungalow 
 for the night. Only nine miles remained 
 to be completed before our destination 
 should be reached; and this short distance 
 was covered in a morning's ride in another 
 cart. Thus it had taken us about nine days 
 to cover some seventy miles since we had 
 left the steam launch. In the dry season the 
 journey can be made in two or two and a 
 half days by cart; but the boat journey is 
 slow for a good part of the year, either be- 
 cause the river is in flood and the current 
 swift, or because the river is low and prog- 
 ress is hindered by rocks and gravel banks. 
 
 Our return journey was made much more 
 quickly and conveniently, for we were for- 
 tunate enough to secure passage in a boat 
 that was carrying wolfram ore down to the 
 
By Canoe and Bullock Cart 143 
 
 town, and in this way we easily covered in 
 two days what had taken us nine days to 
 accomplish going up. 
 
 This ore had come over the hills on the 
 backs of elephants, the caravan route coming 
 in at this point from Siam. It was just 
 another illustration to us of how men have 
 reached out to the lonely places of the earth 
 in search of the riches that perish. Should 
 we not then be ready to travel to the same 
 parts, and even farther, that men may re- 
 ceive from us the imperishable riches of the 
 gospel of Jesus Christ? 
 
 Our visit at that time was not without 
 results, for through it was secured ultimately 
 a grant of considerable land on which, with 
 some adjacent land that was purchased, the 
 Kamamaung station is now built; and in 
 ^' the little brown church in the woods," built 
 close by an old ruined pagoda, a happy 
 throng of boys and girls meet daily to praise 
 their Saviour and to learn more of His ways. 
 
be 
 
 ^ 
 
 K 
 
WITH MA DWA AT THE 
 SCHOOLHOUSE 
 
 Pa Khay — Eating Rice Balls — Cooking in Mud Pots 
 — Juicy Mangoes — The Sensitive Plant 
 
 Ma Dwa, as she sits on the ground with 
 the bamboo tray in her hands, is very busy 
 preparing the rice for the school children's 
 breakfast; but I am sure she will be glad 
 to stop and tell us something about her work. 
 
 Thump, thump, thump, goes the heavy 
 beam with which the paddy is first beaten 
 in order to make it easier to remove the 
 husk. You can see it all ready to fall with 
 another heavy thump. There it is, behind 
 the post of the house, with the round wooden 
 pin which falls on the rice in the hole be- 
 low, half hidden. 
 
 I think it is little Pa Khay, standing there 
 smiling, with his hands resting on the two 
 uprights, who is working the beam this 
 morning. When he steps onto his end of it, 
 up comes the other end quite high in the air; 
 and then he steps ofif again, and down comes 
 
146 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 the pin, right into the hole, crushing the 
 grain that has been thrown into it. Pa Khay 
 has been in the school at Kamamaung for 
 about a year, and is getting on very well 
 indeed. 
 
 His parents and relatives had taught him 
 to fear and worship evil spirits; and when 
 he first came to school, he was smoking a 
 nasty tobacco pipe. Think of a boy as small 
 as Pa Khay smoking! Yet probably his 
 mother taught him to smoke when he was 
 just a tiny baby in her arms. He has learned 
 better now, and does not smoke any more. 
 And instead of wanting to make offerings 
 to the evil spirits, he likes to go to Sabbath 
 school, and has his memory verse all ready 
 to recite to the teacher, and knows his les- 
 son well. 
 
 But there, I am not telling you much 
 about the breakfast rice, am I? Before the 
 husk is removed we usually call the grain 
 paddy; and Ma Kai keeps it stored in a big 
 basket. That is a Burmese granary. It is 
 made of stout strips of bamboo strongly 
 woven together and then roughly plastered 
 over to fill up the cracks. Sometimes these 
 
With Ma Dwa 147 
 
 granaries are six feet or more high, and just 
 as much across; so they hold a great deal of 
 paddy; and they must needs be big too, be- 
 cause many of the people in Burma use rice 
 as their principal food, making relishes to 
 eat with it. 
 
 You see those two baskets on the ground 
 in front? The one to the right of Ma Kai 
 is lying on its side. Well, a village man 
 once told me that when they are putting 
 aside the year's supply of rice for the house- 
 hold use, they measure out twelve basketfuls 
 as each person's share. Isn't that a lot of 
 rice to keep for one person? You would 
 think they would get tired of eating so much 
 of it; but they do not seem to. They cook 
 it without salt, or sugar, or anything but 
 just water. 
 
 I have seen little Karen children sitting 
 on the floor around a bowl of steaming hot 
 rice, and with their tiny fingers they would 
 first work the rice into round balls, so large 
 that you would wonder how they could ever 
 eat them; then, laughing and chatting, they 
 would pop those rice balls into their mouths, 
 eating with as much relish as we would the 
 
His First Day in School 
 
 When Pa Khay first oame to school, he was smoking a nasty 
 
 tobacco pipe. He has learned better now, and 
 
 does not smoke any more. 
 
With Ma Dwa 149 
 
 nicest cake you can think of. Alongside sat 
 the baby brother, too small to feed himself; 
 so sister would give him a nice little rice 
 ball occasionally, and he was as happy as 
 the rest of them. 
 
 Pa Khay and the other boys standing near 
 have a great deal of paddy to beat, as there 
 are about forty hungry little mouths to fill 
 at Kamamaung school. As soon as Pa Khay 
 has finished one lot, it is put into the mill to 
 have the husks removed, while he goes on 
 and beats another lot. When he is tired, 
 another boy takes his place. A boy is work- 
 ing the mill. He is standing with his back 
 toward us, just behind the big pin in the 
 beam that Pa Khay is working up and down. 
 In his hand the boy is holding a long han- 
 dle which he is pulling back and forth. 
 That makes one of the flat stones in the mill 
 rub over the other, removing the husk from 
 the paddy which passes slowly between the 
 two. 
 
 If you look carefully, you will see lean- 
 ing against the bottom of the mill on the 
 right-hand side, the square tin in which the 
 rice is caught as it falls. Then Ma Dwa 
 
150 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 takes it and cleans it. She puts it on her 
 flat tray and deftly throws it up into the 
 air, catching it again as it comes down in a 
 little shower, only to throw it up again and 
 again until the breeze has carried off the 
 bran, leaving the white rice all ready for 
 Ma Kai. She looks it over for the last time 
 for any grains not yet husked, and then puts 
 it into the big pot over the brightly crack- 
 ling fire. 
 
 Have you ever seen any one cook in a 
 pot made of mud? Yet that is what many 
 people do in Burma. The potter, after shap- 
 ing the vessel, hardens the mud by baking 
 it as tiles are made; and then this makes 
 a very fine cooking vessel. There is a nicely 
 fitting lid, which does not get as hot as a 
 metal lid would, so Ma Kai can easily lift 
 it when she wants to stir the rice with her 
 wooden stick. The fireplace is a very sim- 
 ple one, for just a few large stones or bricks 
 have been arranged to close in three sides 
 of a square; and the pot rests on these while 
 the wood fire burns merrily below. 
 
 It is a happy family of boys and girls 
 who bow reverently while a blessing is asked 
 
With Ma Dwa 151 
 
 upon the morning meal. Ma Kai knows just 
 how to make all sorts of little relishes that 
 Karen boys and girls delight in. 
 
 Sometimes the children gather herbs; for 
 they all seem to know which leaves may be 
 eaten and which are poisonous. Sometimes 
 the relish is nice, tender, young bamboo 
 shoots; or perhaps some clean fish caught 
 fresh from the mighty Salwin River; or 
 grated cocoanuts, or plantains, or green jack 
 fruit. How good they taste! 
 
 I wish all of you could sample some of 
 the dishes that these people make. Of course, 
 it would not be nice for us to eat all the 
 dishes they eat in the villages; for in their 
 own homes these boys and girls have eaten 
 frogs and monkeys and snakes, and other like 
 things. I have heard of their even eating 
 wild cat, which was cooked with the fur 
 and all; but the boys and girls in our school 
 have learned to try to keep their bodies 
 clean and healthy, as an honor to the God 
 who created them. 
 
 There, I almost forgot to tell you about 
 the mangoes. What a feast the boys and 
 girls do have at Kamamaung in the mango 
 
1^2 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 season! All around the little schoolhouse 
 are the trees, and the breeze keeps shaking 
 the fruit down. Pat, pat, pat, they fall on 
 the ground; and Pa Khay and Nau See and 
 the other boys and girls find it hard to sit 
 still till lesson time is over, for Oo, the little 
 brown monkey, is out there having all the 
 good fruit to himself. 
 
 Presently the bell rings and the classes 
 break up, and away down the steps go forty 
 pair of little feet, scurrying to see who 
 can get to the mango trees first. There are 
 enough mangoes for all, though. Oo takes 
 his share and scampers up the tree, and the 
 boys and girls run here and there after the 
 big juicy fruit which comes tumbling down 
 as the monkey shakes the branches in his 
 hurried flight. 
 
 In the morning, while some of the boys 
 and girls are helping prepare breakfast, oth- 
 ers are out sweeping the schoolhouse and the 
 compound, or cutting down the weeds which 
 grow up so rapidly; so in one way or an- 
 other all help. 
 
 The weeds remind me of a peculiar plant. 
 All along the sides of the paths we shall find 
 
With Ma Dwa 153 
 
 patches of it. Did you see that? As soon 
 as I touched the leaf with my foot, it began 
 to close up, and now all the leaves on the 
 stem are doing the same. Whenever it is 
 touched, even ever so lightly, the leaves close 
 up ; so English people call it the sensitive 
 plant. Another name for it is " mimosa." 
 Burmese call it hti ka-yon; for I think the 
 closing up of the leaves reminds them of 
 an umbrella, which is called hti in their 
 language. 
 
 This plant is quite common in Burma 
 and grows wild, but in some parts of the 
 world people regard it as very strange, and 
 keep small plants as a curiosity. There are 
 some kinds of flowers which close up when 
 they are touched; it seems that they do this 
 in order to catch insects which have come 
 to them for the honey. The petals of the 
 flower close over the insect, and the plant 
 actually feeds on the little prisoners it makes 
 in this way. 
 
 Ma Dwa wants us to see her little family 
 before we go. Here is the eldest, Nau Bley, 
 which means Miss Smooth. Next to her is 
 Nau Too, or Miss Gold; while number three 
 
154 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 is Nau See, or Miss Little. Nau Sey is the 
 fourth, and her name means Miss Silver; 
 while the smallest little girl has the quaint 
 name of Nau Obwe, or Miss Sabbath; for 
 
 Ma Dwa's Family 
 
 she was born after Ma Dwa and her hus- 
 band, Tha Myaing, had accepted the Sab- 
 bath truth. Baby brother rejoices in the 
 name of Enoch. 
 
 It is not usual in Burma for all to bear 
 the father's name as a family name, as we 
 do; but for each one a separate name is 
 chosen, generally with some definite mean- 
 
With Ma Dwa 155 
 
 ing, like those mentioned above. Among 
 the Buddhist Burmese the first letters of the 
 names are settled according to the day of the 
 week on which the child was born. 
 
 If you meet a Burman whose name be- 
 gins with a vowel, then you can know that 
 he was born on a Sunday; while if it starts 
 with L or W, then he must have been a 
 Wednesday baby, and born in the morning 
 too; for had it been the afternoon of that 
 day, his name must begin with either an R 
 or a Y. " 
 
 In Karen, Sau and Nau correspond to 
 our Mr. and Mrs., while in Burmese they 
 say Maung and Ma instead. Many Karens 
 use Burmese names. 
 
 Well, we must not take any more of Ma 
 Dwa's and Ma Kai's time this morning with 
 our questions, else breakfast will be late; but 
 we will go on to some others of our friends, 
 and see what they can tell us about things 
 the Juniors in Burma do and see. 
 
STRANGE BURMESE WAYS OF 
 HELPING THE SICK 
 
 Black Tortoise Tied to Post — Charms — Strange 
 Medicines — Pa Khay and the Pictures 
 
 " Shway Ain, why have you tied that 
 there?" 
 
 I had climbed up the ladder onto the 
 veranda of the house of a Pwo Karen friend; 
 and sitting on the floor to chat with him, I 
 had caught sight of a small black tortoise 
 with one leg tied to a post of the house. Of 
 course I was curious to know the reason for 
 this ; for, as I have told you, in the- villages 
 in parts of Burma, people eat such animals 
 as frogs, and perhaps he might be keeping 
 this tortoise in readiness for dinner; but that 
 did not prove to be the case. 
 
 '' Saya" (teacher), replied the old man, 
 " as long as we have that tied there, our baby 
 will not get sick." 
 
 I really hope the baby never fell sick; 
 for with its friends depending on such a use- 
 less remedy, the poor little thing would have 
 
15B Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 had a very unhappy time; but this idea that 
 Shway Ain had about the tortoise is just 
 like many other ideas village people have. 
 
 If you had been there, you w^ould cer- 
 tainly have wanted to know more about these 
 strange beliefs; so you will not be surprised 
 when I tell you that I asked Shway Ain if 
 there was anything else which he thought 
 the tortoise could do. This further ques- 
 tion led to my being told about many kinds 
 of medicines, which I am sure none of you 
 would ever like to take. 
 
 I think all of you know that when peo- 
 ple have smallpox, generally their skin is 
 left badly scarred by the disease; but I was 
 told that this would not happen if the sick 
 person would be careful to bathe in water 
 in which just such a little tortoise was swim- 
 ming about. Then, too, there is one kind of 
 fever which these village people think can 
 be cured by eating soup made from a black 
 monkey with a white face. I had often seen 
 these little fellows playing about in the trees 
 in the woods, and climbing over rocks; but 
 I had never thought that they could be so 
 valuable! 
 
Helping the Sick 1^9 
 
 As a remedy for sore throat, Shway Ain 
 told me I should take some gall from a 
 python, which is a very large snake. He did 
 not tell me, though, how I might first catch 
 the snake. 
 
 I must confess that I have never tested 
 any of these strange medicines on myself; 
 but unfortunately for themselves, the village 
 people often try their own methods before 
 bringing the sick or injured to the mission 
 dispensaries, or other places where proper 
 help can be given; so it is much harder to 
 assist them than it would be if they would 
 come as soon as they fall sick or get hurt. 
 
 Cuts and other wounds are often covered 
 with a filthy plaster of some sort, in order 
 to stop the bleeding; but often this treatment 
 does much harm, as the wounds are made 
 dirty, and so fester and cause much trouble 
 and suffering. Some people have great faith 
 in charms. A young man once came to me 
 with a badly cut arm, and to help heal the 
 place, he had tied a charm above the wound. 
 
 This thing in which he put so much faith 
 was just a small piece of dirty paper on 
 which some letters were written, and in 
 
i6o Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 which a few cloves were wrapped; and it 
 was tied to the arm with sewing thread. I 
 tried hard to get him to give it to me as a 
 curio; but while he told me that he him- 
 self was ready to give it, he excused himself 
 by saying that he feared his mother would 
 be angry if he did so; so I did not get it. 
 
 Other people have charms tattooed on 
 different parts of their bodies; or the charm 
 may be written on small pieces of metal 
 which are put in under the skin through slits 
 cut for the purpose. The skin grows over 
 the charm in time, so all that is to be seen 
 is a small, hard lump where the metal has 
 been put in in this way. Some believe that 
 such things can protect them even from bul- 
 lets fired from a gun. There are those, too, 
 who, because they believe that sickness is 
 caused by evil spirits, make offerings to them, 
 in the hope of pleasing them so that they will 
 take away the illness. 
 
 Perhaps an altar of bamboo is built in 
 the house, at which fruit or meat or nuts are 
 offered; or maybe a tiny boat is made, on 
 which the offerings are placed; and then 
 after prayers to the evil spirits have been 
 
Helping the Sick i6i 
 
 said, the boat is left to float down the river. 
 
 In the villages one often meets the native 
 medicine sellers with their supplies of oils 
 and powders. Instead of bottles for the oils 
 they have small skin bladders taken from 
 animals, while leaves take the place of paper 
 for wrapping up the powders. 
 
 The same so-called medicines are given 
 for all sorts of widely differing complaints; 
 and a great deal seems to depend on the care 
 with which the patient uses the stuff that has 
 been given him. Perhaps it is that he must 
 not tell anybody he has got it; or he must 
 take it when nobody is watching, or when 
 the moon is in the proper place; and if it 
 should be that it fails to cure the. disease, 
 then it can be nothing else than that the 
 proper directions have not been followed, 
 but never that the medicine was not good. 
 
 Many, many people are helped by the 
 little mission dispensaries. The work done 
 in those places, and by missionaries as they 
 go through the villages, wins many friends 
 for them. Such kindnesses are rarely forgot- 
 ten; and in their own way, perhaps with a 
 present of cocoanuts or vegetables, or by do- 
 
Superstitious Burmese 
 
 " Saya, as long as we have that charm tied there, our baby 
 will not get sick." 
 
Helping the Sick 163 
 
 ing some little service, the people try to show 
 their gratitude. 
 
 I often think of one home that I used to 
 visit. The first time I w^ent there the wife 
 was sick with fever; but a little simple 
 treatment soon brought her relief. Ever 
 afterward there was always a warm welcome 
 awaiting me, and the simple village hospital- 
 ity would be shown. They were poor peo- 
 ple who had not much of this world's goods, 
 but just a drink of cool water is a great 
 blessing when one has tramped for miles 
 across the rice fields. " Will you drink 
 water, saya? " the woman would always ask 
 me; and receiving assent, away she would go 
 and get the fancy glass decanter, reserved for 
 special occasions; and after thoroughly rins- 
 ing it, she would fill it with water, carefully 
 straining it through a handkerchief. The 
 handkerchief was always brought from the 
 inside room, folded up, so one was encour- 
 aged to hope that it was kept for this special 
 use; but I am not sure that it was. At any 
 rate, my humble friend was doing the best 
 for me that she knew how, and I appreciated 
 her willingness. 
 
164 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 It was through the dispensary work that 
 Pa Khay first came to the school at Kama- 
 maung. He had been sick for some time, so 
 his mother brought him to the dispensary 
 to see what could be done for him. While 
 he was waiting his turn to be attended to, 
 he lay down on the floor to pass the time 
 studying the gospel pictures hanging on the 
 walls. Somehow he did not seem satisfied 
 with what he found; and when he was asked 
 what he wanted, he said he wanted to see 
 Adam and Eve. 
 
 We were surprised, for none of the mission 
 workers remembered having seen the boy 
 before; but Pa Khay soon told them all 
 about himself. He lived in a village in 
 which a lecture had been given one night 
 a year or more before, and at which a Sab- 
 bath school picture roll was shown and ex- 
 plained. Although he was just a little hea- 
 then village boy, he remembered what had 
 been said and shown concerning the garden 
 of Eden; and how, because they had dis- 
 obeyed God, Adam and Eve had been driven 
 out, the gate being guarded by the angel 
 with the flaming sword. 
 
Helping the Sick 165 
 
 Of course, the pictures of Adam and Eve 
 were again shown to him, as also many oth- 
 ers; and he was told that if he came to school 
 he would learn much more about them, and 
 see still other pictures. Pa Khay wanted to 
 start in school at once, but his mother was 
 not willing; for little village boys are ex- 
 pected to look after the oxen and the buffa- 
 loes, and to scare the birds off the rice crops, 
 and do many other chores. After some time 
 he fell sick again, and his mother thought 
 that it would be a good thing to leave him 
 in school, so that he could be near the dis- 
 pensary; and there he is now, studying hard, 
 and learning of the new earth, where, if he 
 trusts in Jesus as his Saviour, he will meet 
 the real Adam and Eve, and many others of 
 whom he first learned from the lecture and 
 the pictures. 
 
BUILDING A BAMBOO HOUSE 
 
 Giant Bamboos — Tying a House Together — Dislike 
 of Hard Work — Fighting Fire — One-Story Houses 
 
 Saw Ohn BuinT had been in the school 
 at Kamamaung for about a year. When he 
 returned home during the holidays, he told 
 his friends that he intended to become a 
 Christian. This made them quite angry, for 
 they were animists, and thought that some 
 great evil would happen to them if he should 
 cease to make offerings to the spirits. They 
 told him that if he did not change his mind, 
 they would not help him to go to school any 
 more. 
 
 The young man was quite determined, 
 however, to stay on and study more about the 
 way of salvation, so he went to Elder Hare, 
 who was in charge at Kamamaung, and told 
 him of his difficulty. Could anything be 
 done to help him continue his education? 
 Yes, a way seemed open. 
 
 Somebody has to go down to the river 
 and carry the water needed in the school and 
 
1 68 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 at the missionaries' house, and a man was 
 being employed to do this work, as well as 
 to chop the firewood. Ohn Buint was told 
 that he could have this work if he would do 
 it, and that his wages would be enough to 
 keep him in school. 
 
 Now, I should not like to say that the 
 village people are lazy, for they do some- 
 times work very hard indeed; but many 
 times it is only because they know that they 
 would stay hungry if they remained idle all 
 the time, that they do any work at all ; but 
 any idea of doing work just to get an edu- 
 cation would be quite out of the question. 
 Generally they do just about enough work 
 to provide themselves with rice and a few 
 other necessities, and then enjoy themselves 
 taking life easy the rest of the time. They 
 can drop ofif to sleep on a hard floor, and 
 with just a large stone or a piece of bamboo 
 for a pillow, quicker than any one else I 
 have ever seen. Our young friend, though, 
 was inspired with the ambition to study, and 
 gladly took up the offered work; and he is 
 there now, working hard to keep himself 
 in school. 
 
Building a Bamboo House 169 
 
 The time came for the next holidays, 
 and the question arose as to whether he 
 should go home to his friends again; but 
 something else suggested itself. Ohn Buint 
 must have new clothes and other supplies, 
 and so he was offered work on the new build- 
 ing which was to be erected; and this offer 
 too was quickly accepted. 
 
 Building work in Burma is often very 
 different from what is seen in many other 
 countries. They split up bamboos in order 
 to make the matting for the walls. Some- 
 times the whole house is made of bamboo; 
 for there are various kinds of this valuable 
 plant, which are used for different parts of 
 the building. Bamboo is just like, a giant 
 grass plant. 
 
 As I told you in the story about Aung 
 Baw's house, some bamboos grow to be seven 
 or eight inches thick. These make very good 
 posts and beams for houses. Smaller ones 
 are put up to make the walls, as also the 
 flooring. Shingles for the roof can be made 
 by crushing short lengths of bamboo flat. 
 
 Even nails are not necessary when build- 
 ing a bamboo house, for short lengths of the 
 
170 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 green bamboo are pared down into thin 
 strips about a third of an inch wide; and 
 when these are dampened they can be used 
 for tying the joints where the different bam- 
 boos cross in the framework, or have been 
 fitted one into the other, and also for tying 
 the shingles or leaves to the roof. 
 
 Perhaps, too, the only tool that will be 
 used is a Burmese dah, or long knife. With 
 it the holes for the posts are dug in the 
 ground. It also serves for all the cutting 
 and jointing of the bamboos, and even for 
 the paring of the strips with which the joints 
 are tied. So you see it is possible to build 
 a complete house with nothing but bamboos 
 for material. 
 
 " How about the windows, though? " you 
 will be almost sure to ask. Well, the vil- 
 lage people do not have any glass win- 
 dows; but they are content to have a little 
 door in the wall which they can open, if 
 desired, to let in light and air. Then, too, 
 the whole of the front of a bamboo house is 
 made like a big flap, so that it can be lifted 
 up and held open with two stout sticks. In 
 fact, this is frequently all there is in the way 
 
Building a Bamboo House 171 
 
 of a door; and at night the flap is let down 
 and fastened on the inside, so as to keep 
 out animals. 
 
 The school building at Kamamaung 
 which Ohn Buint helped to erect has a 
 wooden frame and floor. This was secured 
 by buying an old house somewhere across 
 the river. After it was purchased it was 
 pulled down, and the wood carted to the 
 river, where it was tied together to form a 
 rough raft; and then the whole was towed 
 across the stream behind the little mission 
 launch. 
 
 After building the house, a well was also 
 dug, and a good brick lining put in. Now 
 in the rainy season when the river is muddy, 
 there is no trouble about getting good water 
 for household use. The bricks for this work 
 were all sorted out from a broken-down 
 building which was on the land before the 
 mission bought it. Thus the well cost very 
 little money. 
 
 If you had to live in a bamboo house 
 in a cold country, I fear you would find it 
 very drafty; but in a warm country it is 
 really an advantage to have the walls of 
 
172 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 bamboo, for they let in plenty of air, and 
 so keep the house cool. In the middle of 
 the dry season, though, that is, during De- 
 cember, January, and February, it is fre- 
 quently quite cool in the early hours of the 
 morning, and one feels glad to nestle down 
 into a good blanket. 
 
 The villagers do not usually have much 
 of that kind of comfort, however, so they 
 huddle up in what they do have until the 
 raw morning air makes them feel too cold 
 to sleep. Perhaps they will then go out and 
 build a fire of bamboo leaves and other 
 rubbish of that sort, and sit around it till 
 daylight. Often a whole tree trunk will be 
 dragged to the place where the fire is wanted, 
 and this is set afire each time warmth is re- 
 quired, until it is all burned away. It is 
 not the easiest way to light a fire; but then, 
 it would mean much work at the beginning 
 to chop it up into sticks. It seems just born 
 in a Burmese villager to try to avoid hard 
 work, even though this may mean a great 
 deal more trouble for him in the end. 
 
 Talking about a fire and houses reminds 
 me of the arrangements the people often 
 
Building a Bamboo House 173 
 
 make in case a house should catch fire. 
 Where so many houses are built of material 
 like bamboo, which burns very readily, you 
 can see how a fire might soon spread and 
 destroy a whole village, if it were not 
 promptly checked. 
 
 In front of each house two long bam- 
 boos are kept, one with a hook at the end 
 of it, and the other with a fairly broad sheet 
 of tin, perhaps cut from an old kerosene oil 
 can, fixed to it, making it look very much 
 like a long-handled paddle. If a roof takes 
 fire, the paddle-like aflair is used to beat the 
 flames out; but if the fire has gone too far, 
 then the long-handled hook is used to tear 
 down the roof rapidly, or the whole house 
 if that is deemed necessary. 
 
 Once there was a fire not far from where 
 we were living. A large house and timber 
 yard were in flames. Near by was a big 
 group of bamboo houses, which it was feared 
 would soon catch. In order to avoid this, 
 the two or three places nearest the fire were 
 pulled down; and being of such flimsy ma- 
 terial, it was only a few minutes before they 
 were all down and bundled away, leaving a 
 
174 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 broad gap over which the fire could not 
 pass. 
 
 Sometimes there is a big packing case on 
 round wooden wheels, standing on the front 
 veranda of a Burmese house. This is in- 
 tended to be ready to wheel away the house- 
 hold possessions, should a fire make it nec- 
 essary. 
 
 An old-time Burmese house had always 
 just the one floor, for the people thought it 
 would not be at all right to have somebody 
 walking over their heads, as would be the 
 case if there were two or more stories in a 
 house. Even when traveling on the railway, 
 some of them regard the upper sleeping 
 berths as the more honorable; and I have 
 had my fellow travelers urge me to take the 
 upper bed, as they thought it disrespectful 
 to sleep over me, as they must do if I had 
 the lower berth. 
 
 In most of the houses there is not much 
 in the way of furniture, for the people sit 
 and sleep on the floor. At mealtimes they sit 
 around a bowl of rice, with smaller dishes 
 of curry or some other relishes standing by, 
 and then each helps himself to rice, perhaps 
 
Building a Bamboo House 175 
 
 with his hand, putting it into his own small 
 dish, and spooning the curry over it. The 
 food is put into the mouth with the fingers. 
 Hanging up in many houses is to be 
 seen a cocoanut, which is there in honor of a 
 certain spirit whom a king in ancient times 
 once ordered to be reverenced in this way. 
 There is a little shrine too, in front of which 
 flowers and leaves are offered. All this is 
 not right according to Buddhist teachings; 
 but it is just one of the customs which show 
 us that the people are not really Buddhists 
 at all, but animists, or worshipers of spirits 
 which are supposed to live in trees and ani- 
 mals and other things. 
 

 J 
 
 c^ 
 
CANVASSING ON THE RIVER 
 LAUNCHES 
 
 River Steamers — Getting Subscriptions — Government 
 Dredges — Various Ways of Cooking Rice 
 
 We are to go out canvassing this morning. 
 Down at the jetty the launches are ready 
 to start out to their various destinations. 
 Farther upstream are the larger steamers 
 that make the journey to Mandalay, a week's 
 trip; and then from that point onward still 
 other boats continue the service, going far 
 up into the interior of Burma, along the 
 Chindwin River or on the upper reaches of 
 the Irrawaddy. 
 
 Three large boats carry hundreds of pas- 
 sengers, besides much cargo. Some of them 
 are like floating markets; for when they 
 stop at the various towns along the river, a 
 great deal of trading is carried on between 
 the villagers and the passengers. This morn- 
 ing we are to travel by one of the smaller 
 launches, which make shorter day trips to 
 near-by towns. 
 
178 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 We have brought a supply of food and 
 drinking water with us, also our bedding and 
 cots, so are ready for a trip lasting some 
 days. Maung Nge is used to it, you see, for 
 he takes our packages straight up to a com- 
 fortable corner of the deck, where we shall 
 not have other passengers climbing over us. 
 
 Except in the little cabin up in front of 
 the launch, where chairs are provided, the 
 passengers make themselves comfortable on 
 the deck. For two pice a little bamboo mat 
 can be hired from the refreshment seller, 
 and this is all the average Burman needs 
 in the way of equipment for a good sleep. 
 Perhaps he may have a small bundle with 
 him which will serve as a pillow; but if not, 
 he will get along very well without it. 
 
 As soon as the launch has started and the 
 man has checked over the passengers' tickets, 
 we start our canvassing. Nearly every one 
 can read, yet nobody seems to have thought 
 to bring along anything to read, so we do not 
 have any difficulty in finding customers. 
 
 " See, friend, here is a good paper that has 
 much interesting news in it. If you give 
 me your name and address, I will send it 
 
On the River Launches 179 
 
 to you every time it is printed, and it will 
 cost you only six annas a year. It is printed 
 in Rangoon four times a year." 
 
 This is the way we talk to a Burman 
 sitting alongside. 
 
 "O my mother!" he exclaims to his 
 friend next him; " here is a European selling 
 newspapers to us." The very novelty of the 
 idea appeals to him, and the paper is at- 
 tractive in its appearance; so after a little 
 conversation with us, he purchases a copy. 
 
 Thus we go around the boat, Maung Nge 
 doing his share too, and it is not long before 
 a number of papers have been disposed of; 
 for with passengers getting on and off all 
 the while, there are always some new ones 
 to canvass, and we really do not have time 
 to find the day's journey tiring. One and 
 another, after having read through the pa- 
 per, come and chat with us, so that we 
 make many friends. 
 
 Of course, at the different villages along 
 the river there are views of interest all the 
 while. Just now we are traveling through a 
 canal which the government is widening so 
 as to shorten the distance to Mandalay for 
 
i8o Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 the large steamers. Great dredges suck up 
 the mud and pump it out behind the banks 
 which have been built up, where it settles 
 down and enriches the soil. Here are some 
 of the rice mills I have already told you 
 about. 
 
 For a long distance the water is covered 
 with floating paddy husk, which mixes with 
 the masses of water hyacinth that drift about. 
 
 Everywhere the village people seem to 
 have something in the way of eatables for 
 sale. Sometimes it is bananas, or pieces of 
 jack fruit; or it may be they have various 
 kinds of curry for sale, little packages of it 
 being folded up in fresh leaves. Then 
 there is rice cooked in a variety of ways. 
 One method is to mix the raw rice with 
 grated cocoanut, and pour it into a twelve- 
 inch length of thin bamboo, in which it is 
 cooked and sold. The buyer then splits ofif 
 the bamboo casing, and finds the rice inside 
 with a skin of pitch over it, much like a 
 long, thin sausage. 
 
 This delicacy may suit the Burman very 
 well; but you no doubt would find it very 
 hard to digest, perhaps because it has been 
 
On the River Launches i8i 
 
 cooked with insufficient water. Its flavor, 
 though, is quite agreeable. 
 
 Rice may be "popped;" or it may be 
 boiled and afterward made up into thin, flat 
 cakes, held together with thin treacle, and 
 perhaps ornamented on the top with stifif 
 sugar. 
 
 Another delicacy is sugar made from the 
 juice of the palmyra tree. When this is 
 fresh, it is really very nice. 
 
 Some cattle are waiting on the bank, 
 ready to come on the launch. The loading 
 of them is generally done with much shout- 
 ing. There is no proper landing place, the 
 nose of the launch being pushed against 
 the muddy bank and kept there till all is 
 ready for starting again ; but for the benefit 
 of the animals an extra wide gangplank is 
 run out to the shore. Even so, the oxen seem 
 to object to walking up quietly; so the look- 
 ers-on must come and lend their aid by push- 
 ing and pulling each beast up in turn. 
 
 Sometimes one will suddenly decide to 
 hurry on board, with the result that the 
 man who has been tugging at its nose rope, in 
 his anxiety to get out of the way, topples 
 
Cover of Our Burniese Paper 
 
On the River Launches 183 
 
 over backward into the water with a splash, 
 amid the jeers and laughter of the crowd. 
 Meanwhile the serang, or native captain, of 
 the launch, is growing excited at the delay, 
 and begins to add to the general uproar by 
 shouting and urging everybody to hurry up. 
 
 When it comes to landing the cattle, there 
 is far less trouble; for the man in charge of 
 them just gives each one an encouraging 
 push, with a twist of the tail if the push 
 does not suffice, and splash they go into the 
 river, swimming ashore as best they can. 
 
 Now we have arrived at the place where 
 the launch stops for the night. We are to 
 travel on to another town tomorrow, so will 
 transfer our baggage to a dififerent launch, 
 and there make ourselves comfortable for 
 the night. After having our supper, we can 
 go ashore for a short walk before retiring to 
 sleep. 
 
 Ml down the streets of this little town 
 there are stalls set up by night. It almost 
 seems as if each person in the place has a 
 stall of some kind, trying to get his neigh- 
 bors to buy something, if only a few roasted 
 peanuts or some short lengths of sugar cane. 
 
184 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 Over on that little mound the outlines of 
 the pagoda can be easily seen, for some 
 pious persons have provided an electric-light 
 outfit, so that the building is decorated with 
 strings of brilliant lights. This seems to be 
 the very latest " fashion " in Burmese reli- 
 gious customs. 
 
 Judging by the sounds of music, there 
 must be a performance going on. Such 
 amusements are almost always given in the 
 open air and at nighttime. 
 
 Ah, I see that this is a puppet show. A 
 rough staging about two or three feet high 
 has been built, with a low background of 
 matting. Behind this screen the operators 
 are moving about, the upper parts of their 
 bodies being more or less hidden by a curtain 
 which hangs over the front edge of the stage, 
 but stops short of the floor by some four feet. 
 Each operator is holding a gaudily dressed 
 doll suspended from a number of strings, by 
 pulling which the puppet is made to dance 
 and skip about, as if it were an actor going 
 through his part in a dramatic performance. 
 
 The dolls are supposed to represent fig- 
 ures in well-known stories, which are acted 
 
On the River Launches 185 
 
 out in this simple way time and time again. 
 The audience sits on the ground in front. 
 The people doze when they feel tired, carry 
 on conversations with their friends, and occa- 
 sionally take notice of what is going on for 
 their amusement. The band sit? somewhere 
 near the stage, playing music appropriate 
 to the part of the story that is being acted. 
 The young man with the long bamboo clap- 
 per seems to enjoy making a noise, and works 
 his tool, for we cannot call it an instrument, 
 with great vigor. A high-pitched flute sets 
 the real tune, which is filled out by gongs 
 and drums tuned to a kind of scale. One 
 has to acquire a taste for this kind of music, 
 for I do not think it comes naturally to any 
 foreigner. 
 
 We must get back to the launch now, for 
 our night's rest will be very short. Early in 
 the morning the men will begin firing the 
 boilers ready for the day's run, and then 
 there will be too much noise for further 
 sleep. 
 
 Mosquito curtains are a necessity here, 
 for in such a damp place as this Irrawaddy 
 delta, these troublesome little insects fly 
 
1 86 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 around in great numbers. Once I was in 
 a town where they were particularly bad, 
 even ponies being sheltered by nets at night. 
 
 Traveling around in this way one meets 
 many friends, for it never seems hard to 
 make the acquaintance of a Burman or a 
 Karen fellow passenger. Different ones have 
 invited us to visit them at their homes, where 
 we were very kindly entertained. Of course, 
 to the missionary " making acquaintance " 
 means the gaining of opportunities for telling 
 others of the gospel message. 
 
 When we reach our destination, we must 
 carefully canvass the whole town. This will 
 take us two or three days; so for the time of 
 our stay we will live at the dak bungalow, 
 unless we meet some friend who invites us to 
 his house. Up and down each street we go, 
 calling at every house with our papers, and 
 by the time the day is over we find that many 
 have been disposed of. Even the Chinese 
 pawnbrokers and liquor sellers readily buy 
 the Chinese papers we have, while men from 
 different parts of India come to us for the 
 papers in their various languages. Although 
 it is not possible for us to do more than 
 
On the River Launches 187 
 
 carry on a casual conversation with many of 
 those we meet, yet we leave with all a silent 
 messenger giving them the story in their 
 mother tongue. 
 
 Up and down the railway and steamer 
 routes, and in the parts where these facilities 
 do not exist, our canvassers have gone and 
 still go; and in this way the work is reaching 
 out all over the country. 
 
 Burmese Aboard a Launch 
 
u. &u. 
 
 Market Day in Burma 
 
 In Upper Burma it is customary for each town to hold a market, 
 or saygyi, every five days. 
 
MARKET DAY 
 
 Buying Food, Dresses, and Flowers — Brass Wire Coils 
 as Ornaments — Ngapi — Lacquer Ware — Beggars 
 
 " Saya, tomorrow will be zay gyi; what 
 am I to buy? " The boarding master had 
 come for his instructions as to the supplies 
 he was to purchase for the feeding of the 
 school. Early in the morning he would have 
 to go down to the market in the bullock cart, 
 and bring back the rice, the onions, the gar- 
 lic, the spices, and all the other odds and 
 ends that go to make up a Burman bill of 
 fare. 
 
 In Upper Burma it is customary for each 
 large town to hold a market, or zay gyi, as 
 it is called, every five days. From all over 
 the country the farmers come in with their 
 produce; and from a very early hour the 
 sound of creaking carts reminds us that today 
 we must lay in supplies sufficient for the 
 week. In between these special days the 
 market places are almost, if not quite, empty 
 and deserted. 
 
190 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 The market is a great place to see the 
 people. Everybody seems to find some busi- 
 ness to bring him to the fair. 
 
 Come along to the Taung-gyi bazaar and 
 see the sights. The man who has just gone 
 by in a motor car is the sawbwa, or native 
 ruler, of a near-by state. With his broad- 
 brimmed straw hat flapping over his head, 
 and his none too tidy clothes, one would 
 hardly credit him with being a prince; but 
 nevertheless he has extensive power in his 
 own state, and is a wealthy man. His haw, 
 or palace, might seem to us to be a fairly 
 substantial and somewhat elaborate barn; 
 but compared with the surrounding houses 
 it is imposing enough in its way. 
 
 Some sawbwas have very fine palaces on 
 quite modern lines. There are a number of 
 these chiefs in the Shan States, each with his 
 own realm; and many of them are very en- 
 lightened men, keen to develop the resources 
 of their domains and to improve the lot of 
 their people. Although they are under the 
 general control of the British government, 
 within their own states the sawbwas admin- 
 ister justice, often in more of a fatherly way 
 
Market Day 191 
 
 than one finds in British Burma to the south. 
 The petty offender, instead of being shut up 
 in prison for a few weeks, may find himself 
 triced up in the market place to receive in 
 public a good sound beating with a substan- 
 tial cane. 
 
 Well, now, here is the market in this 
 fenced-in inclosure. What cartloads of cab- 
 bages and potatoes, what sacks of chilies, 
 and baskets of onions and garlic! Here are 
 some eggs, perhaps of doubtful age. In some 
 markets one does not have to worry about 
 the freshness of the eggs, as the shopman is 
 careful to see to that, since he can sell the 
 stale ones for more than the fresh, his Chi- 
 nese customers preferring those that we 
 would call " bad." Many of the village 
 people do not often eat the eggs themselves, 
 but leave them for the birds to hatch out. 
 If ever any of our friends bring us a gift 
 of eggs, we take this into account, and are 
 prepared to find eight out of ten beyond all 
 hope of our using them. Our Karen servant 
 girl was quite surprised one time when, 
 after trying hard to secure some eggs, and a 
 dozen having unexpectedly been brought to 
 
192 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 us, we refused to eat nine of them, just be- 
 cause they were black and evil-smelling 
 inside ! 
 
 It is of no use trying to bargain with 
 these rustics for their produce, for they have 
 a fixed price from which they refuse to vary. 
 A friend of mine once had an amusing ex- 
 perience with one of them. She was not 
 very well versed in Burmese, and so found it 
 hard to catch what the toothless old vege- 
 table woman, with her mouth full of betel 
 nut, was mumbling in response to her query 
 as to the price of the wares. In despair she 
 offered four annas for what she wanted, 
 thinking that a fair price. The old woman 
 refused, so the offer was raised to five annas; 
 but even this was positively refused, the old 
 dame continuing to splutter out her own 
 price. Eventually it turned out that the real 
 price asked was three and a half annas; and 
 having left her home that day determined 
 to sell her wares at that price, nothing could 
 induce the old woman to accept anything 
 else, even though she was offered more. 
 
 By evening all the produce will have 
 been sold out, and in its place the farmers 
 
Market Day 193 
 
 will have bought the things they need. Per- 
 haps it is a new dah, or a fresh plow point; 
 or maybe the time has come to buy some new 
 clothes. What bargaining there will be at 
 the cloth stall, with its piles of bright- 
 colored cotton prints! What solemn discus- 
 sions and careful deliberation, as if the fate 
 of nations hung on the spending of four or 
 five rupees ! 
 
 Old grandfather will tell stories of how 
 his mother used to weave all the cloth they 
 needed; and the father will have his tale to 
 tell of the wonderfully cheap silks he used 
 to buy in Mandalay when he was the boh's 
 (foreign gentleman's) servant. The pert 
 young woman will toss her head and tell the 
 kullah (Indian) shopkeeper that she saw far 
 finer cloth at the last pagoda festival; and 
 so they will go on till mother, who is the 
 real business head of the group, makes up 
 her mind what she thinks is right, and buys 
 it. Still, it was very pleasant to have had the 
 kullah bring down piece after piece so that 
 one could admire the pretty colors; for the 
 pleasure of shopping seems the same the 
 world over. 
 
International 
 
 Karen Woman Wearing Brass Ornaments 
 
 Some women wear coils of brass wire on their arms and 
 
 legs ; others have the wire coiled around their necks, 
 
 resulting in a very uncomfortable stretching. 
 
Market Day 195 
 
 As a nation the Burmans have wonder- 
 ful taste in colors, and a crowd of holiday 
 makers in their best clothes make a most 
 pleasing picture. When Madame Fashion- 
 able goes out for the day, she usually wears 
 an old skirt under her bright new one, so 
 that when she comes to ride in the canoes 
 or the bullock cart, the best one can be 
 slipped off and folded up till the journey's 
 end is reached, when once again she will 
 array herself *in all her glory, recombing her 
 long black tresses, adjusting her switch of 
 false hair, and touching up her complexion 
 with a little sandalwood paste; and all in 
 full view of the public. 
 
 The cloth merchants in the market will 
 sell yards and yards of the pretty prints, and 
 the tailors with their machines will be kept 
 busy all day long sewing up the cloth that 
 the farmers have bought. 
 
 As a rule, Burmese clothing does not take 
 much making, for both men and women 
 commonly wear a skirt which is little more 
 than a yard and a half of cloth with the two 
 ends sewed together. The usual coat, or 
 aingyee, is of very simple design too. Here 
 
196 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 in the Shan States different styles of dress are 
 to be seen, for many men wear a loose, baggy 
 type of trousers, while some of the women 
 too wear trousers. In contrast to the brilliant 
 colors of the Burmese styles, these trousered 
 women wear black, the loose shirt as well as 
 the trousers being of that somber hue. 
 
 There! do you notice that woman over 
 there dressed in that style? She is also 
 wearing the adornment many of her tribe 
 afifect, which consists of a coil of stout brass 
 wire wound round and round each leg just 
 below the knee. In some places the women 
 wear similar coils on their arms; while still 
 others have the wire coiled around their 
 necks, this latter style resulting in what seems 
 to a stranger as being a very uncomfortable 
 stretching of the neck. Earrings and nose 
 rings find their wearers too, while finger 
 rings, necklaces, and collar buttons afford 
 other means of personal adornment. Women 
 in Burma do not seem to favor the cumber- 
 some silver foot and toe ornaments so com- 
 monly seen in parts of India; but in both 
 countries the decking out of the women in 
 jewelry seems to be a way of storing up 
 
Market Day 197 
 
 wealth ; for village people have not learned 
 to have full confidence in banks. 
 
 The market would not be complete with- 
 out a plentiful supply of eating shops; and 
 sure enough, here they are. Some are mere 
 baskets set down by the roadside, around 
 which the customers squat and eat their pur- 
 chases; while others have a little modern 
 spirit about them, being fixed up with some 
 sort of table, furnished with bowls and 
 spoons, and drinking glasses of thick green 
 glass. Perhaps by way of decoration there 
 are bottles of highly colored fruit sirups set 
 out in orderly array. 
 
 Such strange-looking foods, you will say. 
 Meat curries with an ominous tint sug- 
 gestive of many chilies; fish curries of a 
 strangely uninviting odor; these vie with 
 hard-boiled eggs as undertaking to form the 
 backbone of your next meal. Vegetables 
 and green fruits shredded and served with 
 spices to make the various kinds of letho, a 
 form of salad; peanuts, sugar cane, boiled 
 rice, puffed rice, jellies of uncertain constit- 
 uency and uninviting appearance, pancakes, 
 unleavened bread, biscuits, all are in demand. 
 
198 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 European bread has its devotees too, and 
 is a great delicacy to some, judging by the 
 eagerness with which these children are 
 eating it with salt. Once I gave medicine 
 to a villager's little girl, and by way of pay- 
 ment he offered me a loaf brought from the 
 market two days previously. I found some 
 excuse for refusing it, for the sight of his 
 bringing it in his grimy hands, soiled and 
 unwashed after helping me with my '' pa- 
 tient," and of his knocking the loaf on his 
 dirty coat sleeve in an endeavor to induce 
 the ants to surrender their possession of the 
 bread, convinced me that should I take it, 
 the bread would only be wasted, for I never 
 could have found an appetite to eat it. 
 
 It is no wonder there is such a variety 
 of foods for sale, for there are so many dif- 
 ferent national palates to cater to. If we 
 stand and watch, we shall see Burmans, 
 Shans, Karens, Taungthus, and Chinamen, 
 besides Indians of various races; and all of 
 them seem to have their peculiar delicacies. 
 For instance, one authority assures us that 
 there are well-marked differences between 
 the various kinds of dogs that different tribes 
 
Market Day 199 
 
 will eat. One tribe is satisfied with any 
 dog so long as it has a black palate, while 
 another insists on its coat being black too. 
 Others, however, are more easily satisfied, 
 and will eat any kind they can get, just so it 
 is dog. 
 
 So far as Burmans go, the foreigner al- 
 ways sums up the national taste in food by 
 the one word, '' ngapi/' that evil-smelling 
 fish preparation, the name for which is so 
 hard to pronounce, but the taste for which 
 is still harder to acquire. We have heard 
 that there are various sorts of this article. 
 Personally we can testify that it is all as 
 putrid-smelling as anything could possibly 
 be. In general it consists of fish packed with 
 salt and allowed to ferment, the result being 
 a mass or a stiff paste, according to the 
 method of preparation. 
 
 Yet, however obnoxious it may be to our 
 foreign taste, both by reason of the none too 
 hygienic modes of preparation and of its 
 vile smell, there is no doubt whatever that 
 to the Burman it is a real delicacy, ranking 
 with pumpkin pie and plum pudding in the 
 lists of national dishes. 
 
200 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 We must hurry around and see the flower 
 sellers with their sweet-smelling wares. In 
 most markets there are piles of jasmine and 
 roses, picked off without any stalks, the for- 
 mer being in great demand for making 
 chains for decorating the women's hair, while 
 all flowers are used for oflferings at the 
 shrines and pagodas. Here are sellers of 
 lacquer ware, with their trays and cups and 
 betel boxes, decorated with conventional de- 
 signs in red and green. There are the um- 
 brella sellers, and there the shops where are 
 earpicks and nosepicks and nail cleaners, and 
 the nippers for cutting betel nut, as also the 
 small metal boxes for the lime and spices 
 which are mixed with each quid of the nut. 
 
 Here are little tweezers for pulling out 
 one's beard, for Burmans do not shave their 
 chins, not having enough growth of hair to 
 make that worth the effort; but any stray 
 hairs that may appear are plucked out root 
 and branch. One time on the train I did 
 see a fashionable town Burman who was 
 stroking his face with a brand-new safety 
 razor; but he reminded me of the old story 
 of the barber who told the new young cus- 
 
Market Day 201 
 
 tomer that he had no time to spend shaving 
 egg shells! 
 
 The beggars are here also to share in the 
 spoils, — beggars with sham sores and beg- 
 gars with real ones. We must get used to 
 the revolting sight of lepers and cripples 
 and deformities, for it seems as if people 
 here do not mind exposing their misfortunes 
 if that will bring in a steady income. One 
 grows rather deaf to the cries of many of 
 the beggars, since coming across an actual 
 instance of a beggar who brought a police 
 court case against a man for stealing fifteen 
 hundred rupees, " takings " intrusted to him 
 to remit to the beggar's home. 
 
T TT. & TJ., N. 
 
 A Common Sight in Burma 
 One sees long and winding trails of creaking bullock carts. 
 
INTO THE SHAN HILLS BY 
 TRAIN AND CARAVAN 
 
 Floating Islands — Wealth Buried with the Dead in the 
 Lake — Pickled Tea — The Gospel in the Hills 
 
 Suddenly the sound of tinkling bells was 
 heard, and away the children ran to see what 
 was passing by. Presently they came back, 
 all breathless from the race, and with little 
 Naomi, who had outrun the others, crying 
 out, " It's all right, mamma. Nobody's 
 married." 
 
 You see she was used to the Indian wed- 
 ding processions with the bands of musicians, 
 and had thought something of that sort must 
 be the cause of the sounds she had just 
 heard; but she was now up in the Shan 
 States, to the north of Burma, where there 
 are many things different from what she was 
 accustomed to in our home in Lucknow. 
 The music of the tinkling bells really came 
 from a string of patient pack oxen which 
 were slowly plodding past us along the dusty 
 road. 
 
204 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 From the big port of Rangoon down near 
 the seacoast, the railway runs north and 
 stretches out its iron arms in many direc- 
 tions, gathering some of the wealth of Burma 
 to carry away for the use of the world, and 
 bringing in exchange the many things that 
 other countries make and Burmans need. 
 
 Beyond the railway, the old, old times 
 and ways have hardly changed; one still sees 
 the long and winding trails of creaking bul- 
 lock carts, massive elephants swinging along 
 in their great strength, the slow-moving 
 strings of patient pack oxen, with the cheery 
 tinkle, tinkle, of their bells. There are the 
 sturdy human carriers, each with his yoke 
 across his shoulder, or perhaps his load slung 
 on his back or from his forehead, and on the 
 rivers, great canoes that are rowed, poled, 
 or sailed, as the chance may be, and even 
 rafts that lend their aid in bringing from 
 the far interior the things that men have 
 learned to need. 
 
 The railway into the southern Shan States 
 has been slowly pushing on for years, and 
 now reaches to Heho, across the valley from 
 Taung-gyi. Fussy, noisy, greasy motor cars 
 
By Train and Caravan 205 
 
 snatch up the passengers and the mails as 
 they leave the train, and jostle the bullocks 
 and the ponies and the carts for the first few 
 miles; but on beyond, day in, day out, the 
 caravans press on, linking up the far-off bor- 
 ders of China w^ith the outside world. 
 
 Another branch of the railway runs to 
 Martaban, across the river from Moulmein, 
 and from that point launches and country 
 boats take up their burdens and carry them 
 on to where the pack animals start away for 
 the trying journeys over the hills into the 
 interior of Siam. So in other directions, too, 
 the ways are opened up for the traveler 
 whom duty or pleasure calls to these far-off 
 countries. 
 
 As we travel along the road, we pass the 
 camping places, where at night the loads are 
 laid aside, and the tired animals rest their 
 weary limbs and browse in peace. A bright 
 fire is all the light that is needed, serving 
 both to cook the drivers' meal and to scare 
 away any prowling beasts of prey. 
 
 With the early morning light the camp is 
 astir, and in due time the big panniers are 
 loaded onto the cattle, or the animals are 
 
2o6 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 yoked to the carts, and another day's march 
 is started. The bells of the pack oxen begin 
 their tinkling once again, as they swing from 
 the frames fixed over the pack saddles. 
 
 How the wheels of the carts do creak! 
 To our foreign ears the sound, at first espe- 
 cially, is anything but pleasant; but to the 
 drowsy driver dozing on his load, it seems 
 to be a lullaby, singing to him that all is 
 well and moving. All at once the noise dies 
 down, and his sleep is disturbed. Raising 
 one heavy eyelid, he sees the cause. Another 
 cart has come from the opposite direction, 
 its driver also is sleeping; and as both are in 
 the center of the road, the oxen in each 
 cart have stopped, and now stand blinking 
 at each other, as if in anticipation of the 
 torrent of threats and yells that is soon to 
 descend upon them. 
 
 Each man seizes a stick and with it jabs 
 and pokes his animals, the guiding of which 
 consists of little more than poking them. 
 With heads thrown high to avoid the pain- 
 ful strain on the nose ropes, and with tongues 
 lolling out, the oxen pull and tug under the 
 yokes, as if determined to go the wrong way 
 
By Train and Caravan 207 
 
 after all. In due time, though, the drivers' 
 yelling and beating produce the desired re- 
 sult, and the carts creak past each other, one 
 going down the bank on the low^er side of 
 the road, and the other into the drain on the 
 upper. Soon all is steady creaking again, 
 and the driver can settle down for another 
 good nap. 
 
 Perhaps the motor car carrying the mails 
 disturbs him next; and he must be careful 
 this time lest the shrieking horn which warns 
 him of its approach, and the noise of the 
 machinery, frighten his oxen, sending them 
 scampering over the side of the road, maybe 
 upsetting the cart, and delaying him with a 
 broken axle or some other mishap of that 
 description. If any accident like this should 
 occur, then he and his friends will have 
 to draw in by the side of the road, and 
 between them repair the damage. 
 
 Little more than ten miles is covered in 
 a day; so the coming of the railway means 
 that a journey that formerly took a week, 
 can now be completed in a few hours. On 
 beyond, the road stretches for some hundreds 
 of miles, not so well made as nearer in, but 
 
By Train and Caravan 209 
 
 well enough for the heavy carts and the cat- 
 tle to pick their way over; and we learn that 
 it is some twenty-four or more " halts," or 
 days' journeys, to one far-ofif town, which 
 even then is a long way from the borderline. 
 
 Ofif to the south of the caravan road in 
 the southern Shan States, not far from where 
 the railway now reaches, is a great lake, 
 which is very interesting by reason of what 
 are called the floating islands. These seem 
 to be great masses of vegetation all matted 
 and twisted together, that drift about on the 
 surface of the water. Local legends have it 
 that much wealth lies hidden in these places, 
 protected by the spirits of the air, which 
 would instantly pounce on any mortal who 
 might make bold enough to search for the 
 treasure. 
 
 It is said to have been a custom here to 
 bury half of a man's wealth with his body, 
 and as the method of burying consists in fas- 
 tening the dead bodies to the bottom of the 
 lake with stakes, it is at once easy to under- 
 stand the origin of the legends of buried 
 wealth, and why a superstitious people 
 should be afraid to search for it. 
 14 
 
2IO Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 Very probably, if an attempt should be 
 made in daylight to recover any of it, the 
 supposed spirit guardians would not exert 
 themselves, as the villagers would show their 
 resentment of the interference with their 
 dead by driving off the intruders. As for 
 hunting for the wealth under cover of dark- 
 ness, far from venturing out in such a lonely 
 place for any reward whatever, the average 
 Burman is almost too scared to walk down 
 a village street after dark, and must needs 
 sing aloud and clap his hands to scare away 
 the powers of evil. 
 
 It would seem that some bold spirits 
 have got the better of their fears, for one 
 hears tales of families which have suddenly 
 become wealthy in some mysterious way. 
 One such family that I heard of explains its 
 good fortune in this way: 
 
 It happened that one dark night a poor 
 villager was crossing the lake in his boat, 
 when all of a sudden another canoe came 
 alongside his, shooting out from behind one 
 of the floating islands, an old withered-up 
 woman being the only occupant of it. She 
 earnestly begged the man. as an act of char- 
 
By Train and Caravan 211 
 
 ity, to bring her a packet of pickled tea 
 from the village; and although he had only 
 a few copper coins in the world, he prom- 
 ised to do so. Returning home, he was as 
 good as his word, bringing the desired deli- 
 cacy with him, and giving it to the old 
 woman when he met her at the appointed 
 place. 
 
 In return for his kindness she gave him 
 a basket, and when he arrived home, he 
 found to his joy that this basket contained 
 money; and though he, and his family after 
 him, have been taking money out of it ever 
 since, it has never emptied, but still con- 
 tinues to supply their needs. 
 
 Well, this is the story as it has come to 
 me; but the only thing about it that I know 
 to be true is, that this particular family is 
 certainly very wealthy. The story they tell 
 of the source of their wealth is possibly only 
 their way of covering the fact that some of 
 their ancestors ventured out onto the lake 
 and robbed the dead of the riches buried 
 with them. 
 
 Pickled tea will seem to you such a 
 strange delicacy that I must tell you some- 
 
212 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 thing about it before I close. The green tea 
 leaves are taken and dried in the sun for a 
 few days, after which they are steamed, this 
 last process removing some of the tannin 
 from them. After this the leaves are pressed 
 down into small brick-lined pits and left to 
 ferment. Mixed with salt, this preparation 
 is considered a great delicacy by the people 
 of Burma. It is also used in a formal way, 
 as for instance, a small package of pickled 
 tea, dressed with oil and spices {lipet, the 
 Burmese call it), is sent to one whom it is 
 desired to invite to some ceremony. The 
 eating together of pickled tea by the parents 
 of the young couple, is the national way of 
 ratifying the marriage contract, the similar 
 chewing of betel nut being part of the same 
 ceremony. 
 
 The region of the Shan Hills of Burma 
 is one of the " corners of the earth " to which 
 the gospel message is to be taken, and from 
 which redeemed ones will be gathered in the 
 day of the harvest. Even here our canvass- 
 ers are pressing forward, taking with them 
 the literature which warns men of the im- 
 pending crisis. Too, students are brought 
 
By Train and Caravan 
 
 213 
 
 into our schools, that they, having learned 
 for themselves, may carry the good news 
 back to their own people. 
 
 A Monastery in Burma 
 
 It is the rule for every Buddhist boy in Burma to pass a short 
 time in the m^onastery, wearing the yellow robe, and receiv- 
 ing special teaching in his religious duties. 
 (See page 102) 
 
IN CONCLUSION 
 
 A Map Study — Rangoon — Burmans' Dislike of Heavy 
 Work — Modern Conveniences in Rangoon — Schools 
 
 Now that we have taken a peep at some 
 of the people of Burma and their lives and 
 homes, let us remember something of the 
 country in which they live. It is often true 
 that the country itself has had much to do 
 in making the people what they are. 
 
 Just look at the map of Burma, and you 
 will see that in the north and west it is joined 
 to India by land, while on the east it touches 
 China and Siam. Although that is the case, 
 it is much easier to enter Burma from the 
 sea, since high mountains shut it off almost 
 entirely on every other side. Because of 
 this, it is not possible to go to Burma by 
 railway from any other country, and nearly 
 everybody who goes there enters Rangoon, 
 the big port near the sea on one of the many 
 mouths of the Irrawaddy. One can enter 
 at Bassein and Moulmein also; but not many 
 people go that way, because Rangoon is so 
 
2i6 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 many times larger than the other places. 
 Ocean steamers also call at such ports as 
 Tavoy, Mergui, and Akyab; but each of 
 these places is so shut off from the rest of 
 the country by rough land that nobody 
 would think of them as gates into Burma. 
 
 You can look on the map for all the 
 ports I have mentioned; and then you must 
 try to picture in your mind the great car- 
 goes of rice that the steamers receive at Bas- 
 sein, Akyab, and Moulmein, and also the val- 
 uable wood which is sent out from the latter 
 place. Tavoy and Mergui are the places 
 where tin and wolfram and other valuable 
 metals are shipped; while Rangoon, the 
 greatest port of them all, sends away vast 
 stores of rice, wood, and oil, and other kinds 
 of merchandise too numerous to mention. 
 
 In a few places, there are tracks over 
 the mountains from Siam and China, along 
 which the caravans slowly wend their way; 
 and they are important, too, in that they seem 
 to have provided the way into Burma for the 
 different tribes who now live there. Even 
 today there are bands of people constantly 
 pressing over the borders from China. 
 
In Conclusion 217 
 
 It is far more difficult to cross the moun- 
 tains which separate Burma from India; and 
 so we find that the peoples of Burma are 
 more like their neighbors across the Salwin, 
 that is, the Siamese and Chinese, than the 
 Indian races; and the general appearance of 
 the people, as well as their languages, differs 
 much from those we find in India, although 
 Burma and India are parts of the same gov- 
 ernment known as the Indian Empire. 
 
 I want you to take careful notice of the 
 city of Rangoon. Even before the railway 
 was built, Rangoon had begun to be the most 
 important place in Burma; for the mighty 
 Irrawaddy River stretches for hundreds of 
 miles north, right up through the center of 
 the country; and on its broad and quiet 
 waters are borne numberless craft, both large 
 and small, bringing to the port at its mouth 
 the treasures of the province. Now the rail- 
 way has come, it has added to the ease with 
 which one can reach Rangoon from any lo- 
 cation inland; and see how it has stolen in 
 behind both Moulmein and Bassein, taking 
 away much of the produce that used to be 
 floated down to these ports and shipped from 
 
2i8 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 them. Some day it may serve Akyab the 
 same way. 
 
 If you could come with me from the sea, 
 up the river to Rangoon, I think you might 
 be just a little disappointed. After all I 
 have told you about the forests and the cara- 
 vans, and the people in their little villages, 
 you would be expecting to see something of 
 them right away; but at first you would see 
 nothing but a very low-lying, muddy shore, 
 with a few cocoanut palms. 
 
 Soon the tall chimneys and the big steel 
 reservoirs of the oil works would be seen ; 
 and then still farther up, over and above 
 everything else would be seen shining the 
 great golden pagoda, the Shwe Dagon. A 
 large amount of money has been spent to 
 cover the top of this building with real 
 gold plates; and as it is often cleaned, it 
 shines brilliantly in the sunlight. Other fa- 
 mous pagodas are frequently gilded over, 
 like the one at Moulmein. At that place the 
 pagoda is high up on the summit of the 
 ridge of hills which rise sharply behind the 
 town. At certain times of the year there is 
 generally a dense white morning mist which 
 
In Conclusion 219 
 
 completely hides the town; and then as the 
 sun gets higher and higher, and shines on 
 the golden building on the hilltop, the pa- 
 goda seems like a great golden bell floating 
 in the clouds. 
 
 All the way up the river to Rangoon 
 you would have been looking out for some 
 Burmese people, to see what they look like; 
 but you might get right up to the steamer 
 wharf, and even have been landed there for 
 some time, before you would have seen a 
 single Burman, although there might be 
 crowds of people about all the time. There 
 would be Indians, and Chinamen, and Eu- 
 ropeans, but perhaps not a Burman.. 
 
 Of course, there are really thousands of 
 Burmans in Rangoon; but they do not gen- 
 erally like such work as is done by the por- 
 ters on the wharves, or even by the boat- 
 men; and the sturdy coolies from South In- 
 dia have come over by the hundreds of thou- 
 sands to Burma to do the heavy manual 
 work, while Mohammedans from Chittagong 
 in India seem to do nearly all the river 
 work, even running many of the little fer- 
 ries across the rivers for miles inland. 
 
In Conclusion 221 
 
 Landed in Rangoon, we should find a 
 well-built and clean city; and more and more 
 it is becoming like the cities of Western 
 lands, with substantial buildings, electric 
 lights, and street cars, and all those conven- 
 iences we are used to in our own countries. 
 Out in the western end of the town many 
 Burmans would be found, some even in bam- 
 boo houses; but because of the danger of fire 
 from having such flimsy structures in a 
 crowded city, they are gradually becoming 
 less and less. If a fire does break out in a 
 group of these houses, perhaps hundreds will 
 be burned before it can be put out; and then 
 slowly the more substantial brick buildings 
 w^ill take the place of those the fire has 
 destroyed. 
 
 Rangoon has a number of fine, large 
 schools, as well as two colleges ; so the Bur- 
 mese boys who live in the town can go to 
 school, as many of them do. Not only do 
 they learn the regular lessons, but they also 
 notice how other people live and dress; grad- 
 ually their own national customs give way, 
 and it is not always easy to recognize Bur- 
 mans in the smartly attired young men who 
 
222 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 are to be seen riding their motor cycles, 
 wearing helmets, or topees, as we call them, 
 to protect their heads from the sun, and with 
 all the other things we usually associate with 
 Europeans. In their homes, too, these young 
 people will be found to have discarded many 
 of their old ways of living; and even though 
 the easy-chairs and rockers we are accus- 
 tomed to are called " foreign seats " in Bur- 
 mese, they have learned to prefer them to 
 their own style of squatting on the floor, 
 although, of course, many do still sit down 
 in that way. 
 
 So you see that in Rangoon it is not easy 
 to find a picture of true Burmese life; and 
 that is why we have looked into the homes 
 of our friends in the villages, and have seen 
 how it is that they work and live; for they 
 represent the great majority of the native 
 peoples of Burma. 
 
 It should not be thought that the people 
 of Burma are all of one race; for there are 
 many different tribes scattered about all over 
 the country. In olden times these tribes used 
 to war one against another nearly all the 
 time; and many are the heaps of ruins which 
 
In Conclusion 223 
 
 are pointed out to us here and there as being 
 all that remains of some former capital. 
 
 These various tribes often have peculiar 
 customs which dififer from those of other 
 peoples of Burma; so you would not find 
 things in every part of Burma just as I have 
 told you. This makes the country more in- 
 teresting to the foreigner, no matter how 
 long he may have lived in it; for all the 
 time he can be seeing something new. It 
 does make the work of the missionary harder, 
 though; for in order to be able to carry on 
 his work properly, he must learn the lan- 
 guage and the customs of the people among 
 whom he is to live. And perhaps after 
 studying a language for years, he will still 
 find thousands of people living near him 
 who can hardly understand what he says, for 
 they themselves have a still different mother 
 tongue. 
 
 There is, however, a language which all 
 can understand and in which every servant 
 of Christ should continually seek to improve, 
 and that is the language of kindly actions. 
 Without this no missionary can have much 
 hope of success; for simple though the vil- 
 
224 Afoot and Afloat Through Burma 
 
 lagers may be, experience has taught them 
 that a man's works are of more value than his 
 words. So as we come in contact with them, 
 we must try to learn their way of doing 
 things, and their way of thinking, so that 
 while we teach them the way of life, we 
 may not hurt their feelings and drive from 
 us those whom we seek to win. 
 
 This little tour through Burma has per- 
 haps been all too short; but nevertheless our 
 hope is that it may serve, not only to arouse 
 in some an interest in that pleasant land, but 
 also to increase in others the interest they 
 already have, that they themselves may come 
 to its shores, and in turn strive to win some 
 of its people for the Master.