From Myitkyina we rode inland to Mogaung, a singularly unpleasant town, important as a trading centre. In the regions north-west of Mogaung comes almost all the jade yet discovered; the rest is found in Turkestan. Though lovely and ornamental, jade is not classed as a precious stone, and has little vogue in Europe except for hilts of daggers in ladies’ novels. Chinese merchants have a practical monopoly, and most of the stone goes to China, where it is properly appreciated by a nation of artistic taste. The right of levying _ad valorem_ duty on all jade brought to Mogaung is farmed out by Government. As the value of a piece of jade in the rough cannot be determined accurately, the business of dealing and of farming is distinctly speculative. The value is revealed by cutting; the duty is paid on uncut stones. The farmer assesses the duty on any piece of stone brought in. The owner has the option of either paying the duty or selling it to the farmer at the farmer’s valuation. This plan insures fair dealing on both sides. But there is always the attractive element of chance. Except for the jade business and some historic associations, Mogaung was a dull and uninteresting place. Our objective was the lovely lake of Indawgyi, which I was not to see till nearly twenty years after.[241] Sudden news came of a Kachin rising on the eastern frontier. The escort of a civil officer had been attacked, and had suffered some loss. The border might be ablaze. The Deputy Commissioner must hasten to the spot; nor could the Commissioner remain unconcerned. We rode to Sinbo next day, covering nearly fifty miles on one pony apiece, carrying no kit and taking no attendants, our rations in our saddle-bags. At Sinbo we found a launch and all necessary comforts provided by Mr. George’s forethought. Next day, as soon as the morning mist had lifted, the launch started, and in two minutes was fast on a sandbank. Not all the labours of the villagers, who turned out _en masse_, availed to move it a foot. Resolved to reach Bhamo that day, we took a small boat and began the passage of the Defile. It was plain paddling with the stream, but parlous slow, and hot and cramped. When we were about half-way through, our luck changed. We met a Government launch, which we boarded and turned about. So at sundown we landed at Bhamo. Half an hour later the launch abandoned at Sinbo also arrived.