's length from
the Flotilla Company's steamers. Why not charter a big native dug-out up
the river at Bhamo--sink it for a day or two--for reasons--then drift
and row down. You could get up to Bhamo in a week or less, or in two or
three days shortly, when there's a railway, and take, say three weeks
down to Mandalay.

Kalone to Katha is interesting all the way. At Katha the mountains on
the west come closer to the river. There is a short railway branch from
this place to the line to Mandalay. I hardly like to mention a railway
up here, it sounds so prosaic and so unassociated with any of the wild
surroundings; but there--it's a solid fact, you can come up here from
Rangoon in next to no time and see nothing on the way, by train. We walk
past the little station, the first piece of blackened ground we have
seen for many a day--a ballast truck, ashes, and coals--impossible! From
the wire fence round the station-house and from its wooden eaves hang
numbers of orchids, nameless and priceless--impossible again!

It is a pleasant country round Katha, once you get away from the line.
There is low ground cleared for crops then knolly wooded hills within
easy reach, and higher hills beyond. The air was still and wisps of
wood-smoke from distant village fires hung in level bands above the
plain. Miss B. and G. went to see the pagoda, I did the same, and also
took my gun in case of a wet place and snipe. They saw a procession to a
priest's funeral--one of the regular shows of Burmah, I only saw jungle,
and brakes of white roses with rather larger blossoms than our sweet
briar, growing to about twenty feet high. These grew many feet below the
level of the river in the wet season, so I gather they spend several
months in the rains under water: I also saw vultures, eagles, hawks, and
a big kind of lapwing and snipe; but the snipe here were cunning, and
got up wild and flew far, so I only got a small bag. But putting the
afternoon's stravaig and the morning's ramble together made quite a
decent day's exercise; and I believe the two or three hours in the
jungle with its strange sights and sounds, flowers, birds, and beasts,
were as interesting as a Phoungies' funerals.

CHAPTER XXXI

2nd February.--There was a river mist this morning, the sun shining
through, and we "slept in" for there was no engine to awaken us. When we
did awaken, it was to the tune of reed instruments like our pipe
chanters. These headed a single and doub