Early the next morning we recrossed the stream, and followed it up for four miles, the plain gradually rising as we proceeded. Teak-trees were sprinkled through the forest which neighboured the plain, and numerous yellow-flowered orchids hung in clusters from the branches of the trees. The forest gradually closed in, leaving a grass plain three-quarters of a mile wide, which we edged on the west, occasionally startling an elk-deer. A low hillock fringed the east of the plain, backed by a higher one three-quarters of a mile beyond it. The forest was one of the most magnificent and varied I have ever seen. Padouk, thyngan, thytkado, wild mango, kanyin, banian, and many other fine trees whose names I do not know, grew to an enormous size. One looked for giants to match the trees, everything was so huge. The forest was a fit home for elephants and rhinoceroses. A kanyin-tree that I measured was 20 feet in girth 5 feet from the ground, and over 200 feet in height. One of the men brought Dr M‘Gilvary a piece of bark off a large tree, and after smelling it, he sent it to Dr Cushing, who, after doing likewise, forwarded it to me. It nearly knocked me down. Of all the horrible odours I ever met with, that was the worst. Bracken and other ferns, as well as screw-pines, flourished in the deep shade of the forest. At 367 miles we crossed the Huay Pa Au, the last stream that enters the Meh Khow Tome, and fifteen minutes later, without any perceptible rise, reached the Huay Leuk, which is said to enter the Meh Chun. We had crossed the water-parting between the Kiang Hai and Kiang Hsen plains without being aware of it. Half a mile farther we crossed the toe of a spur, and then passed amidst low hillocks until we reached a dry brook 6 feet wide and 5 feet deep, where we halted for breakfast. The hills had ceased, and we were in the Kiang Hsen plain. The height of the water-parting between it and the plain of Kiang Hai was 1471 feet above the sea, and only 151 feet above Kiang Hai. Our camp was 369½ miles from Hlineboay, and 1447 feet above the sea. Whilst inking the notes in my field-book, butterflies settled on my hand, and were as brave and persistent as house-flies. No sooner had I shaken them off than they were back again, being rocked on my hand as I wrote. The jungle, particularly in the neighbourhood of water, simply swarms with insect-life. An entomologist could fill a case in a morning’s walk. He would have but to shake his net under the leaves of a few bushes for walking-leaves, stick-insects, ant-cows, lady-birds, and a variety of remarkable beetles, to drop into it.