here he is.

[Illustration]

"Capin Kurruk" was our effective password. Kirke I suppose, had
heliographed our arrival, and the Subadar and the native doctor met us.
The Subadar, a Sikh, I think, had almost the only Indian face I have
seen so far that I liked--big, potent, and with the appearance of a
sportsman and gentleman. The doctor was of rather an opposite type,
though clever-looking, and spoke a little English.

The dark bungalow was a few hundred yards down the hill from the fort
looking down the valley we had come up into the sunset. On these higher
hills I see more Kachin clearings, and with the glass make out their
sturdy little figures in the tracks leading from one clearing to the
other, interminable bamboo jungle above and below them. They certainly
have a splendid country to hold. They are said to have come into Burmah
with the great Mogul invasion; and when the Northerners retreated, the
Kachins stayed and took up their quarters in the hill tops, and have
raided the low countries since.

The cut of their women's dress resembles the reindeer skin dress of the
Laps in north of Norway, and the geometric ornaments are similar, and
the torque or heavy penanular necklet of silver has ends like the
druidical serpents head.

12th February.--Down at Kulong Cha the night was warm and stuffy! last
night up here at Nampoung it was precious cold. We could hardly sleep,
though we had on our whole wardrobe. The weak point was our having only
two thin quilts underneath on the charpoys. As these bungalows are all
made after one design on the principle of a meat-safe, to keep you cool
in the low hot levels, they are only too effective up here. So we turned
out very early to find a spot where the sun shone hot on the Empire's
wall. In an hour or two we will be down to the Nampoung River, and it
will be hot there as an oven.

CHAPTER XXXVII

Lives there a man who has sat by the riverside at mid-day in the glen,
with a pipe and a cup, and a fish in the bag, the air hot and full of
the sound of running waters, and the sun laughing in the spirals of the
mountain dew, who has not felt that beautiful life could offer nothing
better than another fish? (I'd have brought a "man or woman" into this
already involved interrogatory sentence, but for the pipe!) So we feel,
as we rest by the side of Nampoung River, between China and Upper
Burmah, after a morning's ride and an hour's fishing. There is a
delicious blend of