CHAPTERXXIX.A TOUR IN THE LAOS COUNTRY.This journey was made by G. W. Vrooman, M. D., and theRev.Mr. McGilvary in 1872, to ascertain, in a portion of the East but little known to us, the size and comparative importance of the Laos chief cities and villages in reference to missionary work, to preach the gospel, and to observe the disposition of the authorities and people toward foreigners, especially toward teachers of the Christian religion.Duringthe early part of the dry season our time had been so occupied that it was not till after the first heavy showers of the rainy season had fallen that we decided to go. Our journey, in consequence, was hurriedly made, and the time we remained in different cities was barely sufficient to allow us opportunity to accomplish our objects satisfactorily to ourselves. At our stopping-places the gospel was preached and a few books were distributed—few, because we had no more. We visited the authorities, made known the object of our journey through their country, and endeavored to ascertain the leading features relative to their provinces, their population, extent, etc., and to judge whether sufficient encouragement was offered to repeat the visit at some future time.After deciding upon the expediency of the tour we were for some time in doubt whether it would be wise to go at that season of the year. Foreign residents of this country consider it unsafe to travel during the rainy season, and even the natives fear long journeys through the forests. The jungle is the home of a multitude of savage beasts, but these are not more dreadful than its malaria.After engaging our elephants we went to the king for a passport. Had this been refused us we could not have gone. He, however, very cordially furnished us with one, and wished us a prosperous journey. This passport was so worded that we were to travel as his guests, and yet to go for the purpose of teaching the Christian religion, healing the sick, etc. It was so worded, I believe, out of deference to our request, and not from any special interest in our work. We were furnished with the kind of passport given to certain Siamese officers who are here occasionally, or to their own princes when required to visit a neighboring province; and because it is customary to state the object of their journey in a passport there occurred the anomaly of a Buddhist king sending men forth to preach the Christian religion under his protection. I may add here that after we had gone an officer of the Siamese government here at the time, reproved the king sharply for having allowed us to go. I think the Siamese are jealous of the visits of foreigners to their distant provinces. A few years ago Cambodia was won from its allegiance by the French. By many of the natives we are believed to be political agents acting in behalf of England or of some foreign power.Our preparations for the journey were soon completed. Perhaps the most important articles in our outfit were medicines. With our letter we need not have taken money in our purses, but no script from any earthly potentate can give such security against malaria as a few grains of quinine, and no person is safe in this country during the rainy season without it. Besides medicines and money to pay our way, we took a small supply of canned provisions—only enough, however, for use in case of sickness, as our food was to be procured on the way. It was necessary to take as little baggage as possible. A tent, blankets and a few extra articles of clothing, books, cooking utensils, guns and ammunition, about completed our outfit. We had four elephants, two of which were reserved for baggage. We had also an escort of six natives, besides those who accompanied the elephants—fourteen in all.After commending ourselves and those we left to the care of God, we set out at noon, April 15th, on our journey. Elephant-traveling is slow, scarcely averaging two miles per hour. Our course for the first hundred miles lay toward the north-east. The level country over which we first passed is occupied by a rural population. Our road, for the first ten or twelve miles, was through rice-fields. Here and there we could see small hamlets, whose sites were marked by graceful palm trees. Narrow strips of forest, extending in irregular curves, joined the different villages and formed the near boundary of our horizon. They marked the course of small streams and irrigating canals. After six hours’ travel we left the plain for the mountain-country, but two hours before doing so we had entered the forest. Thenceforth, till we reached Muang-Pau, a small village eight days’ journey distant, we saw no houses, save in a small hamlet of thirty or forty inhabitants at “Boiling Springs.” Our route, a main road traveled over betwixt Cheung Mai, Cheung Rai and Cheung Toong, was merely an elephant-path through a dense forest. On Sabbath, while encamped near a small stream in this forest, we met Saan-yawee-Chai, the native Christian whose home is in Muang-Pau. He was on his way to Lampoon. It was our intention to visit him at his home, but Providence directed his steps to us. He excused himself for traveling on Sunday by saying that he was not well instructed in the duties and observances of the Christian religion, and that also he was in company with those who would not stop.CAMPING IN A LAOS FOREST.CAMPING IN A LAOS FOREST.After eleven days from home we arrived at Cheung Rai. This is a small city of three hundred houses, population between two and three thousand. It is in the province of Cheung Mai, and its chief officers receive their appointment from the chief or king of this place. It is situated on the banks of the Ma-Kok, fifty or sixty miles from where that river joins the Ma-Kawng (or Cambodia) River. The large plain outside of the walls of the city is but thinly populated. The people are mostly fishermen. Only a small portion of the surrounding country is under cultivation, hence there are but few villages in its vicinity. Here we dismissed our elephants, and by noon on the following day had completed our preparations for the river-journey. During our delay there Mr. McGilvary was occupied with the numbers of people who visited us at our sala, preaching the gospel, distributing from our supply of Siamese books to those who could read, and gathering information concerning the country.We set out again as soon as our boat and men were ready. Our passage down the Ma-Kok to the Cambodia River occupied two days, during which time we passed four or five small villages of twenty or thirty houses each. These were near to Cheung Rai, within three hours’ journey of it. We spent our Sabbath on a sandy bank of this river, as we did the preceding one, many miles away from human habitations. In the morning we discovered tracks of a large tiger near our boat. These fierce brutes are quite numerous throughout the country. For mutual protection against their attacks, and the more dreaded depredations of robbers, nearly all the people of this country reside in villages or congregate in larger numbers in cities. The Kamoos, a mountain-tribe of people, inhabitants of this country at an earlier period than the Laos, form an exception to this rule. More about them hereafter.Near the mouth of the Ma-Kok is a mountain by the Laos called Doi-Prabat-Rua, or “sacred feet and boat.” It is considered a holy place, and many pilgrims go thither seeking to make merit. It does not have, like the mountain of a similar name in Siam, an impression of a foot in its rock. Its object of veneration is an unfinished stone boat. The legend of the people is that Gotama Buddha commenced to hew out of the solid rock a boat which was to be about thirty feet in length. It was left when about half finished, and remains an object of superstitious veneration, if not of worship. Few if any Laos will pass it without fervently raising the folded hands toward it and murmuring a prayer.We stopped a day at Ban Saao, a small village on the Cambodia River, near the mouth of the Ma-Kok, and from there visited the ruins of the city of Cheung Sau. This was at one time the largest and most populous city in this part of the interior; it was the capital city of a very powerful Burmese province. Seventy years ago the city was taken and destroyed by the Siamese, its inhabitants put to the sword or forced into slavery and the entire province rendered desolate, in which condition it remains to this day. The province thus depopulated, and now the home only of wild beasts, is not as large as the province of Cheung Mai, I believe. The territory under the rule of the king of Cheung Mai is about as large as the States of Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island; the waste province of Cheung Sau is probably about as large as Connecticut. Nothing now remains of the destroyed city save the walls and the tumbling ruins of temples. Thousands of idols, images of Buddha, are scattered around in the old wat- or temple-grounds. Helpless to save the city from its fate, they were abandoned, and are now trodden under foot of the deer, wild elephants and tigers, whose tracks now form the by-ways of that city.After wandering about the place for several hours, we returned to Ban Saao, and then continued our journey down the Cambodia. One day’s travel brought us to Cheung Khawng. This is a Laos city of two or three thousand inhabitants, and belongs to the province of Muang-Nan. No inhabitants on the river-banks between Ban Saao and Cheung Khawng. Many years ago a village was commenced, several houses built and a clearing made in the forest. About twenty houses were reared, but the people were obliged to desist, as many of them were killed by the tigers. We remained at Cheung Khawng two days, called upon the governor and some of the officers, visited many of the temples, and everywhere talked with those who were willing to listen. Cheung Khawng is also a fisher-town. There are very few suburban villages, fewer even than around Cheung Rai.Left Cheung Khawng on the3dof May. Our passage down the Cambodia to Muang-Luang-Prabang was rapidly made, and occupied only five days, including the Sabbath. The distance to the latter place from Cheung Rai is probably about three hundred miles, or from Cheung Khawng nearly two hundred. The current of the Cambodia is very swift, in places so much so that it was dangerous to navigate. The river is nearly a mile wide in places, and where the channel is narrowed it rushes along with frightful rapidity. No scenery is finer, not even that of the Hudson, during the entire distance we traveled on it. Mountains rise from either bank to the height of three or four thousand feet. The river fills the bottom of a long winding valley, and as we glided swiftly down it there seemed to move by us the panorama of two half-erect, ever-changing landscapes of woodland verdure and blossom. Only as we neared the city did we see rough and craggy mountain-peaks and barren towering precipices. The villages along the river are few and small—from Cheung Khawng to within three hours’ travel of Muang-Luang-Prabang not more than six, averaging twenty to thirty houses each. About three hours from the latter city is the mouth of the Ma-Oo River. This river comes down from the north and drains the country of the Liews.Muang-Luang-Prabang is the capital city of a Laos province which is perhaps even more extensive than Cheung Mai. The population of the city has been variously estimated. My companion on the tour agrees with me in placing the figure at twenty or twenty-five thousand. It is probably the third largest city in the kingdom of Siam or tributary to it. Ayuthia is the second, and Cheung Mai probably the fourth. While the city itself contains a larger population than Cheung Mai, it has not, like this, a large rural population in its immediate vicinity. It is situated on the east bank of the Cambodia, on a plain which is not more than four or five miles wide. A few miles above and below the city the plain is bounded by high mountains, which reach to the river and form its banks. A small river, the Ma-Kahn, comes in from the east and divides the city into two unequal portions. The plain immediately back of the city is not cultivated nor inhabited. We were told that there were a number of villages on the banks of the Ma-Kahn. During the season of high water boats ascend this stream—a month’s journey. I presume it is then the highway on which the Kamoos bring their produce to the Muang-Luang-Prabang market. The city is more compact than any of the Laos cities which we visited. Its market is not so large as that in Cheung Mai, but we found in it, besides the fruits and vegetables of the country, many articles, especially cloths, of foreign manufacture. These are brought from Bangkok. The meats in the market are fish, pork and fowls. The former are abundant; many of them, taken from the Cambodia River, would weigh over a hundred pounds each.Different Tribes.The Laos of Muang-Luang-Prabang differ somewhat from those of Cheung Mai. That province and Wieng-Chun are the provinces of the “Eastern” (or “White”) Laos—the four cities or provinces of Nan, Praa, Lakawn and Lampoon, of the “Northern” (or “Black”) Laos. The difference bearing upon missionary work is that of language. Our Cheung Mai escort experienced nearly the same difficulty in understanding the “Eastern” Laos that a Siamese would have. The Eastern Laos dialect is more nearly allied to the Siamese than is the Northern. It does not occupy a middle position between the dialect of Cheung Mai and that of Siam, but probably bears a relation to the Siamese and Cochin Chinese languages, as the Northern Laos dialect does to the Siamese, Burmese, Karens, Liew (or Lew) and Chinese tongues. The Eastern Laos understand the spoken language of Siam better than they do that of the Northern Laos. The differences between the Siamese, Northern and Eastern Laos, Liews, Ngieus, Yongs, etc. is illustrated in the dialectic differences of our own language as spoken in the different parts of England.The letters used in writing the language of this province are universally used throughout the Northern Laos provinces and by the Liews, Yongs and in many of the Burmese provinces. The written characters of the Eastern Laos are not much different from these. The books of either people can be read by the other, though not without a little difficulty. Siamese books cannot be read in any of the Laos provinces, except by a few persons. Thus, the Bible printed in the Cheung Mai Laos letters could easily be read in all the “Northern” Laos, and in many of the Eastern Burmese, provinces and among independent tribes of Liews, etc., and with but little difficulty by the Eastern Laos.The Liews are comparatively numerous in Muang-Luang-Prabang. Their province lies to the north of it, and joins the southern border of Western China. They are an independent, bold, hardy and cruel people. They dress better than the Laos, the style of their clothing resembling that of the Chinese. Their traders visit the Laos, Burmese and Chinese provinces. Their principal city is Cheung Hoong, situated (on the Cambodia River) to the north of Muang-Luang-Prabang. They have a finer and more intelligent appearance than the Laos. Their tribe is not so numerous as the Laos.The Yongs occupy a province south of the Liews. Their principal city is a small one on the Ma-Yong (River), a tributary of the Cambodia, which empties into it above the desolated province of Cheung San. They are also subject, I believe, to the king of Burmah. The above-mentioned tribes of people in many respects resemble the Northern Laos. Except the Ngieus, they have the same written language, and the difference in the spoken language is not great. The Lwoas are another tribe of the same family. Representatives of all these tribes, as well as Burmese, Karens, Siamese, Peguans and Chinese, are found in all the Laos provinces. Those most numerous in Muang-Luang-Prabang are the Liews.The religion of all the peoples before-mentioned, except the Karens and the Kamoos, is Buddhism, more or less mixed with Shamanism.The Karens, Red Karens, Kamoos and Kamates are not Buddhists, but worship or believe in evil spirits, to whose influence they attribute all that is averse to their sense of good, and whose evil power they must arrest by ceremonies and sacrifices. Thus the Kamoos in cases of sickness do not give medicine, but offer sacrifices to appease the spirits, sometimes killing ten or twelve animals over a single patient.The Kamoos and Kamates are so nearly related that I will speak of them as one tribe. I have purposely omitted mentioning them in connection with the other tribes of people found in Muang-Luang-Prabang, because there does not appear to be any similarity betwixt them, either in language, religion or customs. The Kamoos are quite as numerous in Muang-Luang-Prabang as the Laos: I mean in the province, not the city, for they are a mountain-tribe. They have no province of their own, but are slaves, who, though they live among the mountains, must pay their tribute, each man, to his Laos or Siamese master. They are most numerous in the province of Muang-Luang-Prabang, but are found in all the Laos and in some of the Burmese provinces, in the Hau country of China,[4]and among the independent tribes. They are said to be harmless and honest. They are ignorant and despised, even by the poor, wretched people of this country. Their clothing is even more scanty than that of the almost naked Laos.Their homes are upon the tops of the mountains, not in the valleys among the mountains, as are the Karen villages. They cultivate small portions of ground, which they are not permitted to call their own. Their diminutive clearings and solitary houses, on or near the top of steep, high mountains, have a singular appearance, surrounded as they are with forest and standing in bold relief against the sky. Many of them, from frequent intercourse with their masters, understand the spoken Laos language, but they have a distinct language of their own. They have no written language. Probably not one in ten thousand of them can read the books of any language. They have a few small villages, but the majority of the people live in isolated homes. They have no city of their own. Missionary efforts to reach that tribe might be made through a native ministry. The superintendence of such a work, should it be attempted, would require a missionary to reside in Muang-Luang-Prabang.We remained six days in that city. It was a season of constant labor to my associate. Many visited us—probably from motives of curiosity—but to all we endeavored to present the gospel message. Drunkenness is a prevailing vice there. Unlike Cheung Mai, the nights are hideous with revelry. Opium is said to be used very freely—more so than in any other Laos city. We did not have that sense of security there that we have felt in all the other Laos cities, and so were glad when, on the 14th of May, we were able to leave on our homeward journey.In concluding this notice of Muang-Luang-Prabang, I will remark that its usual communication with Bangkok is not by way of Cheung Mai. From Nakawn-Soowun, twelve days above Bangkok, boats ascend the eastern branch of the Menam to near its head-waters. The distance is probably greater than to Cheung Mai. From that head of navigation there is a land-carriage of eight or ten days to the Cambodia River, and then about two weeks’ boat-travel against the swift current of that river before reaching Muang-Luang-Prabang. I presume the usual time from Bangkok to Muang-Luang-Prabang cannot be less than three months.We traveled in boats about sixty miles down the Cambodia, seeing very few villages on the river-bank, except near the city. At Ta Dua we procured elephants for our land-journey; these were changed at different stages. For two days our course was through a partially-cultivated plain, lying parallel with the river and separated from it by a narrow range of mountains. Passed through six villages, the largest of which probably contained a population of one thousand. Six days more of travel brought us to Muang-Nan. Four of these were consumed in ascending and descending mountains.Muang-Nan, the chief city of the province of the same name, is a city of about ten thousand inhabitants. It is situated on the Nan River, one of the streams which, by uniting with others, form the eastern branch of the Menam River, where it forks at Nakawn-Soowun. The city of Nan is about on the same latitude with Cheung Mai, and the river on which it is situated is nearly as large as the one which flows past our mission-premises here. Owing to impassable rapids on the Nan River, travel between Nan and Bangkok involves a land-journey by elephants of seven or eight days.The province of Nan is one of the most populous and important of the Laos provinces. The plain for ten or fifteen miles on every side of the city contains a considerable number of villages. There is evidence in the city and villages of comparative prosperity. The rulers seem more liberal, more desirous of the welfare and prosperity of their people, than in any other Laos province. The contrast in this respect, between Nan on the one part and Muang-Luang-Prabang and Muang-Praa on the other was great. We were more encouraged to revisit that city than any other. We remained there four days. The lateness of the season and frequency of the rains hastened our departure.Going south-westerly, we arrived in Muang-Praa on the 4th of June. This city is only four or five days’ travel from Muang-Nan, but we were detained on the way in getting a fresh supply of elephants.Four days south of west from Muang-Praa brought us to Muang-Lakawn. This city is about the same in size as Muang-Nan; population probably nearly ten thousand. It is situated on the Mawang, a river which unites near to Rahang with the Maping, which goes by our doors.We reached Cheung Mai on the 21st of June, after an absence of sixty-seven days. The tour would be a difficult one to make at any season of the year; it was particularly so at the time we made it. The heavy rains retarded our progress, and rendered it extremely unpleasant both by day and night. Our health, however, was but little affected by these unpleasant experiences, as we escaped with less sickness than did the natives who accompanied us.
This journey was made by G. W. Vrooman, M. D., and theRev.Mr. McGilvary in 1872, to ascertain, in a portion of the East but little known to us, the size and comparative importance of the Laos chief cities and villages in reference to missionary work, to preach the gospel, and to observe the disposition of the authorities and people toward foreigners, especially toward teachers of the Christian religion.
Duringthe early part of the dry season our time had been so occupied that it was not till after the first heavy showers of the rainy season had fallen that we decided to go. Our journey, in consequence, was hurriedly made, and the time we remained in different cities was barely sufficient to allow us opportunity to accomplish our objects satisfactorily to ourselves. At our stopping-places the gospel was preached and a few books were distributed—few, because we had no more. We visited the authorities, made known the object of our journey through their country, and endeavored to ascertain the leading features relative to their provinces, their population, extent, etc., and to judge whether sufficient encouragement was offered to repeat the visit at some future time.
After deciding upon the expediency of the tour we were for some time in doubt whether it would be wise to go at that season of the year. Foreign residents of this country consider it unsafe to travel during the rainy season, and even the natives fear long journeys through the forests. The jungle is the home of a multitude of savage beasts, but these are not more dreadful than its malaria.
After engaging our elephants we went to the king for a passport. Had this been refused us we could not have gone. He, however, very cordially furnished us with one, and wished us a prosperous journey. This passport was so worded that we were to travel as his guests, and yet to go for the purpose of teaching the Christian religion, healing the sick, etc. It was so worded, I believe, out of deference to our request, and not from any special interest in our work. We were furnished with the kind of passport given to certain Siamese officers who are here occasionally, or to their own princes when required to visit a neighboring province; and because it is customary to state the object of their journey in a passport there occurred the anomaly of a Buddhist king sending men forth to preach the Christian religion under his protection. I may add here that after we had gone an officer of the Siamese government here at the time, reproved the king sharply for having allowed us to go. I think the Siamese are jealous of the visits of foreigners to their distant provinces. A few years ago Cambodia was won from its allegiance by the French. By many of the natives we are believed to be political agents acting in behalf of England or of some foreign power.
Our preparations for the journey were soon completed. Perhaps the most important articles in our outfit were medicines. With our letter we need not have taken money in our purses, but no script from any earthly potentate can give such security against malaria as a few grains of quinine, and no person is safe in this country during the rainy season without it. Besides medicines and money to pay our way, we took a small supply of canned provisions—only enough, however, for use in case of sickness, as our food was to be procured on the way. It was necessary to take as little baggage as possible. A tent, blankets and a few extra articles of clothing, books, cooking utensils, guns and ammunition, about completed our outfit. We had four elephants, two of which were reserved for baggage. We had also an escort of six natives, besides those who accompanied the elephants—fourteen in all.
After commending ourselves and those we left to the care of God, we set out at noon, April 15th, on our journey. Elephant-traveling is slow, scarcely averaging two miles per hour. Our course for the first hundred miles lay toward the north-east. The level country over which we first passed is occupied by a rural population. Our road, for the first ten or twelve miles, was through rice-fields. Here and there we could see small hamlets, whose sites were marked by graceful palm trees. Narrow strips of forest, extending in irregular curves, joined the different villages and formed the near boundary of our horizon. They marked the course of small streams and irrigating canals. After six hours’ travel we left the plain for the mountain-country, but two hours before doing so we had entered the forest. Thenceforth, till we reached Muang-Pau, a small village eight days’ journey distant, we saw no houses, save in a small hamlet of thirty or forty inhabitants at “Boiling Springs.” Our route, a main road traveled over betwixt Cheung Mai, Cheung Rai and Cheung Toong, was merely an elephant-path through a dense forest. On Sabbath, while encamped near a small stream in this forest, we met Saan-yawee-Chai, the native Christian whose home is in Muang-Pau. He was on his way to Lampoon. It was our intention to visit him at his home, but Providence directed his steps to us. He excused himself for traveling on Sunday by saying that he was not well instructed in the duties and observances of the Christian religion, and that also he was in company with those who would not stop.
CAMPING IN A LAOS FOREST.CAMPING IN A LAOS FOREST.
CAMPING IN A LAOS FOREST.
After eleven days from home we arrived at Cheung Rai. This is a small city of three hundred houses, population between two and three thousand. It is in the province of Cheung Mai, and its chief officers receive their appointment from the chief or king of this place. It is situated on the banks of the Ma-Kok, fifty or sixty miles from where that river joins the Ma-Kawng (or Cambodia) River. The large plain outside of the walls of the city is but thinly populated. The people are mostly fishermen. Only a small portion of the surrounding country is under cultivation, hence there are but few villages in its vicinity. Here we dismissed our elephants, and by noon on the following day had completed our preparations for the river-journey. During our delay there Mr. McGilvary was occupied with the numbers of people who visited us at our sala, preaching the gospel, distributing from our supply of Siamese books to those who could read, and gathering information concerning the country.
We set out again as soon as our boat and men were ready. Our passage down the Ma-Kok to the Cambodia River occupied two days, during which time we passed four or five small villages of twenty or thirty houses each. These were near to Cheung Rai, within three hours’ journey of it. We spent our Sabbath on a sandy bank of this river, as we did the preceding one, many miles away from human habitations. In the morning we discovered tracks of a large tiger near our boat. These fierce brutes are quite numerous throughout the country. For mutual protection against their attacks, and the more dreaded depredations of robbers, nearly all the people of this country reside in villages or congregate in larger numbers in cities. The Kamoos, a mountain-tribe of people, inhabitants of this country at an earlier period than the Laos, form an exception to this rule. More about them hereafter.
Near the mouth of the Ma-Kok is a mountain by the Laos called Doi-Prabat-Rua, or “sacred feet and boat.” It is considered a holy place, and many pilgrims go thither seeking to make merit. It does not have, like the mountain of a similar name in Siam, an impression of a foot in its rock. Its object of veneration is an unfinished stone boat. The legend of the people is that Gotama Buddha commenced to hew out of the solid rock a boat which was to be about thirty feet in length. It was left when about half finished, and remains an object of superstitious veneration, if not of worship. Few if any Laos will pass it without fervently raising the folded hands toward it and murmuring a prayer.
We stopped a day at Ban Saao, a small village on the Cambodia River, near the mouth of the Ma-Kok, and from there visited the ruins of the city of Cheung Sau. This was at one time the largest and most populous city in this part of the interior; it was the capital city of a very powerful Burmese province. Seventy years ago the city was taken and destroyed by the Siamese, its inhabitants put to the sword or forced into slavery and the entire province rendered desolate, in which condition it remains to this day. The province thus depopulated, and now the home only of wild beasts, is not as large as the province of Cheung Mai, I believe. The territory under the rule of the king of Cheung Mai is about as large as the States of Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island; the waste province of Cheung Sau is probably about as large as Connecticut. Nothing now remains of the destroyed city save the walls and the tumbling ruins of temples. Thousands of idols, images of Buddha, are scattered around in the old wat- or temple-grounds. Helpless to save the city from its fate, they were abandoned, and are now trodden under foot of the deer, wild elephants and tigers, whose tracks now form the by-ways of that city.
After wandering about the place for several hours, we returned to Ban Saao, and then continued our journey down the Cambodia. One day’s travel brought us to Cheung Khawng. This is a Laos city of two or three thousand inhabitants, and belongs to the province of Muang-Nan. No inhabitants on the river-banks between Ban Saao and Cheung Khawng. Many years ago a village was commenced, several houses built and a clearing made in the forest. About twenty houses were reared, but the people were obliged to desist, as many of them were killed by the tigers. We remained at Cheung Khawng two days, called upon the governor and some of the officers, visited many of the temples, and everywhere talked with those who were willing to listen. Cheung Khawng is also a fisher-town. There are very few suburban villages, fewer even than around Cheung Rai.
Left Cheung Khawng on the3dof May. Our passage down the Cambodia to Muang-Luang-Prabang was rapidly made, and occupied only five days, including the Sabbath. The distance to the latter place from Cheung Rai is probably about three hundred miles, or from Cheung Khawng nearly two hundred. The current of the Cambodia is very swift, in places so much so that it was dangerous to navigate. The river is nearly a mile wide in places, and where the channel is narrowed it rushes along with frightful rapidity. No scenery is finer, not even that of the Hudson, during the entire distance we traveled on it. Mountains rise from either bank to the height of three or four thousand feet. The river fills the bottom of a long winding valley, and as we glided swiftly down it there seemed to move by us the panorama of two half-erect, ever-changing landscapes of woodland verdure and blossom. Only as we neared the city did we see rough and craggy mountain-peaks and barren towering precipices. The villages along the river are few and small—from Cheung Khawng to within three hours’ travel of Muang-Luang-Prabang not more than six, averaging twenty to thirty houses each. About three hours from the latter city is the mouth of the Ma-Oo River. This river comes down from the north and drains the country of the Liews.
Muang-Luang-Prabang is the capital city of a Laos province which is perhaps even more extensive than Cheung Mai. The population of the city has been variously estimated. My companion on the tour agrees with me in placing the figure at twenty or twenty-five thousand. It is probably the third largest city in the kingdom of Siam or tributary to it. Ayuthia is the second, and Cheung Mai probably the fourth. While the city itself contains a larger population than Cheung Mai, it has not, like this, a large rural population in its immediate vicinity. It is situated on the east bank of the Cambodia, on a plain which is not more than four or five miles wide. A few miles above and below the city the plain is bounded by high mountains, which reach to the river and form its banks. A small river, the Ma-Kahn, comes in from the east and divides the city into two unequal portions. The plain immediately back of the city is not cultivated nor inhabited. We were told that there were a number of villages on the banks of the Ma-Kahn. During the season of high water boats ascend this stream—a month’s journey. I presume it is then the highway on which the Kamoos bring their produce to the Muang-Luang-Prabang market. The city is more compact than any of the Laos cities which we visited. Its market is not so large as that in Cheung Mai, but we found in it, besides the fruits and vegetables of the country, many articles, especially cloths, of foreign manufacture. These are brought from Bangkok. The meats in the market are fish, pork and fowls. The former are abundant; many of them, taken from the Cambodia River, would weigh over a hundred pounds each.
Different Tribes.
The Laos of Muang-Luang-Prabang differ somewhat from those of Cheung Mai. That province and Wieng-Chun are the provinces of the “Eastern” (or “White”) Laos—the four cities or provinces of Nan, Praa, Lakawn and Lampoon, of the “Northern” (or “Black”) Laos. The difference bearing upon missionary work is that of language. Our Cheung Mai escort experienced nearly the same difficulty in understanding the “Eastern” Laos that a Siamese would have. The Eastern Laos dialect is more nearly allied to the Siamese than is the Northern. It does not occupy a middle position between the dialect of Cheung Mai and that of Siam, but probably bears a relation to the Siamese and Cochin Chinese languages, as the Northern Laos dialect does to the Siamese, Burmese, Karens, Liew (or Lew) and Chinese tongues. The Eastern Laos understand the spoken language of Siam better than they do that of the Northern Laos. The differences between the Siamese, Northern and Eastern Laos, Liews, Ngieus, Yongs, etc. is illustrated in the dialectic differences of our own language as spoken in the different parts of England.
The letters used in writing the language of this province are universally used throughout the Northern Laos provinces and by the Liews, Yongs and in many of the Burmese provinces. The written characters of the Eastern Laos are not much different from these. The books of either people can be read by the other, though not without a little difficulty. Siamese books cannot be read in any of the Laos provinces, except by a few persons. Thus, the Bible printed in the Cheung Mai Laos letters could easily be read in all the “Northern” Laos, and in many of the Eastern Burmese, provinces and among independent tribes of Liews, etc., and with but little difficulty by the Eastern Laos.
The Liews are comparatively numerous in Muang-Luang-Prabang. Their province lies to the north of it, and joins the southern border of Western China. They are an independent, bold, hardy and cruel people. They dress better than the Laos, the style of their clothing resembling that of the Chinese. Their traders visit the Laos, Burmese and Chinese provinces. Their principal city is Cheung Hoong, situated (on the Cambodia River) to the north of Muang-Luang-Prabang. They have a finer and more intelligent appearance than the Laos. Their tribe is not so numerous as the Laos.
The Yongs occupy a province south of the Liews. Their principal city is a small one on the Ma-Yong (River), a tributary of the Cambodia, which empties into it above the desolated province of Cheung San. They are also subject, I believe, to the king of Burmah. The above-mentioned tribes of people in many respects resemble the Northern Laos. Except the Ngieus, they have the same written language, and the difference in the spoken language is not great. The Lwoas are another tribe of the same family. Representatives of all these tribes, as well as Burmese, Karens, Siamese, Peguans and Chinese, are found in all the Laos provinces. Those most numerous in Muang-Luang-Prabang are the Liews.
The religion of all the peoples before-mentioned, except the Karens and the Kamoos, is Buddhism, more or less mixed with Shamanism.
The Karens, Red Karens, Kamoos and Kamates are not Buddhists, but worship or believe in evil spirits, to whose influence they attribute all that is averse to their sense of good, and whose evil power they must arrest by ceremonies and sacrifices. Thus the Kamoos in cases of sickness do not give medicine, but offer sacrifices to appease the spirits, sometimes killing ten or twelve animals over a single patient.
The Kamoos and Kamates are so nearly related that I will speak of them as one tribe. I have purposely omitted mentioning them in connection with the other tribes of people found in Muang-Luang-Prabang, because there does not appear to be any similarity betwixt them, either in language, religion or customs. The Kamoos are quite as numerous in Muang-Luang-Prabang as the Laos: I mean in the province, not the city, for they are a mountain-tribe. They have no province of their own, but are slaves, who, though they live among the mountains, must pay their tribute, each man, to his Laos or Siamese master. They are most numerous in the province of Muang-Luang-Prabang, but are found in all the Laos and in some of the Burmese provinces, in the Hau country of China,[4]and among the independent tribes. They are said to be harmless and honest. They are ignorant and despised, even by the poor, wretched people of this country. Their clothing is even more scanty than that of the almost naked Laos.
Their homes are upon the tops of the mountains, not in the valleys among the mountains, as are the Karen villages. They cultivate small portions of ground, which they are not permitted to call their own. Their diminutive clearings and solitary houses, on or near the top of steep, high mountains, have a singular appearance, surrounded as they are with forest and standing in bold relief against the sky. Many of them, from frequent intercourse with their masters, understand the spoken Laos language, but they have a distinct language of their own. They have no written language. Probably not one in ten thousand of them can read the books of any language. They have a few small villages, but the majority of the people live in isolated homes. They have no city of their own. Missionary efforts to reach that tribe might be made through a native ministry. The superintendence of such a work, should it be attempted, would require a missionary to reside in Muang-Luang-Prabang.
We remained six days in that city. It was a season of constant labor to my associate. Many visited us—probably from motives of curiosity—but to all we endeavored to present the gospel message. Drunkenness is a prevailing vice there. Unlike Cheung Mai, the nights are hideous with revelry. Opium is said to be used very freely—more so than in any other Laos city. We did not have that sense of security there that we have felt in all the other Laos cities, and so were glad when, on the 14th of May, we were able to leave on our homeward journey.
In concluding this notice of Muang-Luang-Prabang, I will remark that its usual communication with Bangkok is not by way of Cheung Mai. From Nakawn-Soowun, twelve days above Bangkok, boats ascend the eastern branch of the Menam to near its head-waters. The distance is probably greater than to Cheung Mai. From that head of navigation there is a land-carriage of eight or ten days to the Cambodia River, and then about two weeks’ boat-travel against the swift current of that river before reaching Muang-Luang-Prabang. I presume the usual time from Bangkok to Muang-Luang-Prabang cannot be less than three months.
We traveled in boats about sixty miles down the Cambodia, seeing very few villages on the river-bank, except near the city. At Ta Dua we procured elephants for our land-journey; these were changed at different stages. For two days our course was through a partially-cultivated plain, lying parallel with the river and separated from it by a narrow range of mountains. Passed through six villages, the largest of which probably contained a population of one thousand. Six days more of travel brought us to Muang-Nan. Four of these were consumed in ascending and descending mountains.
Muang-Nan, the chief city of the province of the same name, is a city of about ten thousand inhabitants. It is situated on the Nan River, one of the streams which, by uniting with others, form the eastern branch of the Menam River, where it forks at Nakawn-Soowun. The city of Nan is about on the same latitude with Cheung Mai, and the river on which it is situated is nearly as large as the one which flows past our mission-premises here. Owing to impassable rapids on the Nan River, travel between Nan and Bangkok involves a land-journey by elephants of seven or eight days.
The province of Nan is one of the most populous and important of the Laos provinces. The plain for ten or fifteen miles on every side of the city contains a considerable number of villages. There is evidence in the city and villages of comparative prosperity. The rulers seem more liberal, more desirous of the welfare and prosperity of their people, than in any other Laos province. The contrast in this respect, between Nan on the one part and Muang-Luang-Prabang and Muang-Praa on the other was great. We were more encouraged to revisit that city than any other. We remained there four days. The lateness of the season and frequency of the rains hastened our departure.
Going south-westerly, we arrived in Muang-Praa on the 4th of June. This city is only four or five days’ travel from Muang-Nan, but we were detained on the way in getting a fresh supply of elephants.
Four days south of west from Muang-Praa brought us to Muang-Lakawn. This city is about the same in size as Muang-Nan; population probably nearly ten thousand. It is situated on the Mawang, a river which unites near to Rahang with the Maping, which goes by our doors.
We reached Cheung Mai on the 21st of June, after an absence of sixty-seven days. The tour would be a difficult one to make at any season of the year; it was particularly so at the time we made it. The heavy rains retarded our progress, and rendered it extremely unpleasant both by day and night. Our health, however, was but little affected by these unpleasant experiences, as we escaped with less sickness than did the natives who accompanied us.