Early the next day, the elephant with the remainder of our baggage arrived from Zimmé, and I received a letter telling me that Dr Paul Neis, of the French navy, who had been surveying the country to the north and east of Luang Prabang, had arrived at Zimmé _viâ_ Kiang Hai. We soon afterwards heard that the two Chows were camped about five miles ahead, waiting for us, and we therefore determined to start. Leaving Muang Doo at half-past ten, we followed the Meh Kok, a canal 30 feet broad and 4 feet deep, to the village of Tone Kow Tau, and soon afterwards left the rice-plain and entered a pass, with the crests of the hills half a mile distant on either side of us. Through this short gap the Meh Hkuang flows on its way to join the Meh Ping. After leaving the pass, we crossed a bend of the river, which is here 80 feet wide and 7 feet deep, and halted on its banks, close to the camp of the Chows. The prince appeared very glad to see us, and said that the mistake through which we had not met earlier had arisen from our having started from Zimmé in the afternoon instead of in the morning. After a good night’s rest, we were awakened by the shrill cry of peacocks, which seemed to be challenging each other from all directions, and by half-past seven had everything packed and had left the camp. We were in high glee at again being under way, and felt like schoolboys off for a holiday. The morning was simply delightful, the air was delicious, and although most of the trees were leafless, the temperature at starting was only 55°. Turning northwards, we followed the Meh Kang, a stream 30 feet wide and 6 feet deep, to the village of Ban Hai, and shortly afterwards crossed it, and commenced to ascend, amidst outcrops of traprock, the steep slope of Loi Pa Chāu. The ascent, although only 500 feet, was tedious, and took us an hour and a half, as the elephants had to crawl up, resting after every footfall, before they raised their huge bodies up for another step. The slope was clad with teak-trees, and the village at the crest of the ascent is known as Ban Pa Sak, the village of the teak-forest. This village and its surroundings was a great surprise for us—like what the Giant’s country must have been to Jack after mounting his bean-stalk. What we had taken for an ordinary unoccupied range of hills when we were crossing the Zimmé plain, was an extensive undulating plateau; and here on its very edge was a village, beautifully situated amid gardens of palms and fruit-trees, with a pleasant little brook of icy-cold water meandering through it from some springs near at hand. The village is 251½ miles from Hlineboay, and 1820 feet above the sea. After crossing the plateau, we descended along the Meh Ka Lah to the Meh Hkort, and halted for the night at the village of Luong Hkort, which is situated in a broad part of the valley. A small monastery, temple, and pagoda adorn the crest of a low flat-topped spur, about a mile to the north-east of the village.