The chief object of our trip was to visit, in their ancient homes, two northern tribes of the Lāo race—the Kôn and the Lû—from which very many of our parishioners in the southern provinces derived their origin. For, under conditions which lasted very nearly down to our own time, there was almost constant predatory warfare going on in this northern country—stronger states raiding the weaker, and sweeping away the entire population of the districts they overran, to plant them in their own realms. Thus whole villages, and even entire districts, in the Lāo provinces of Siam, are peopled by the descendants of such colonies of captives. We found it unadvisable to attempt both visits in the same season, and the Lû were the more accessible, living on the nearer slopes of the Mê Kông valley. We went up on the west of the river along the edge of the British territory, now known as the South Shan States, and beyond it into Chinese territory, as far as Chieng Rung;[15] then, returning, we made a somewhat wider sweep to the east of the river, through French Indo-China; finally recrossing the river at Chieng Lāp, where we struck once more our outgoing trail. Footnote 15: This name appears on some maps as Chieng Hung, initial _r_ in the North being generally pronounced as _h_.—ED. After leaving Mûang Len, the utmost point of a former trip, we travelled awhile by a fine road along the summit of a ridge so regular as to seem almost like an artificial embankment, and affording noble views over the valley. At Wieng Mai, a recent offshoot of Mûang Yawng, we spent a most interesting Saturday and Sunday. Here the Prince-Governor sent to ask if he should not put up a sālā to shelter us during our stay. In the morning we preached in the market-place, and afterwards I distributed medicine and talked with the people till noon, when I had to flee away to rest under the shade of a big tree by the river. The people seemed hungry for the bread of life. I could not supply all the requests made for copies of the Scriptures. Mûang Yawng, the older and larger city, we reached on Monday forenoon, after a two hours’ ride. An officer met us at the gate, and showed us to the sālā. When the Chao Mawm heard of our arrival, he sent for us, meeting us at the door. We had a very interesting interview, but he was not inclined to talk on the subject of religion. He told me that the city and district had been entirely depopulated in 1809 by a force from Chiengmai, when “nothing was left behind but the ground.”[16] It had recovered itself, however, and its population was now larger than that of Lampūn. With Nān Suwan I visited the market and the Court. At the latter place I learned that the British Commissioner would arrive the next day. Knowing that everything would be in confusion, we decided to move on the next morning. Footnote 16: