nd
consequently is the one of which all the more important buildings and
dwellings are constructed.

In many districts, within reach of some beautiful forest creek,
teak-cutting may be seen in full operation; and it is interesting to
watch the elephants at work, hauling logs or loading them on to the
little trollies, by which they are carried down to the water, where,
floundering along the muddy bank, they launch them in the stream.

Some of these creeks are very lovely, fringed as they are by flowering
grasses, behind which the forest rises tier on tier above the
shimmering water and gleaming sand-banks.

On the banks are the footprints of many wild animals who have come
down to water during the night. In the water are fish and
water-snakes, which alert herons constantly harass, and, strange as it
may seem, in the river-bed itself are the marks of cart-wheels, for
the Burmans often make a highway of these forest streams, which in the
dry season are generally easier to travel than the roads.

The forest itself is never monotonous, its growths varying according
to the levels of the hills. Sometimes the enormous trees and heavy
foliage I have already described produce a depth of gloom which might
well excuse the superstitious fear of the Burmans, and often recalls
to me the pictures in our fairy-books, where some bold knight is
depicted entering the depths of an enchanted wood, in search of the
dragon that well might dwell there. Descending the hill-side with a
suddenness which is almost startling, you may find yourself in a
bamboo forest, which is a veritable fairyland for beauty. From a
carpet of sand, on which lilies grow, these giant bamboos spring,
fern-like, in enormous clumps, spreading their arms and feathery
crests in all directions, and, meeting overhead, form avenues and
lanes, which remind one of some beautiful cathedral aisle.

Different in many ways from the forests I have described are those of
the cooler plateaus and mountain ranges of Northern Burma. On the
higher levels oak and pines are found among the other trees, and
bracken grows around the wild plums on the more open slopes. Sparkling
rivulets spring from the mountain-side, and, overhung by ferns and
mosses, flow gurgling over their pebbly beds to the deep valley below,
there to join the swiftly-flowing river, which, by many waterfalls
and rapids, eventually reaches the level of the plains.

From the river's edge, where reeds and wild bananas