A quarter of a mile from the city we passed Wat Chang Peuk, the temple of the White Elephants, which contains two whitewashed life-sized images of the front, head, shoulders, and fore-legs of these animals. Each stands under a masonry arch closed up at the back; one faces the north, and the other the west. Fresh grass and flowers had been placed by devout passers-by in the curve of the elephant-trunks. These effigies, as well as those of two ogres, and a Russi in the grounds of the Wat Hluang at Zimmé, were erected as a protection to the city in 1799. Half a mile farther we passed a beautiful temple decorated with red lacquer, and profusely gilded, which had been lately built by Princess Chow Oo Boon. The _mai cha-lau_ trees, which are numerous, were in full blossom, and many beautiful orchids were suspended from the smaller trees. At 3½ miles from the bridge over the river, which I now mile from, we halted for the night at Wat Pra Non, the temple of the reclining Gaudama. Our march after leaving the city skirted the rice-fields of the Zimmé plain on the west. As we passed the elephant stables of the Zimmé chief, I noticed the mode in which they train a refractory animal. He is confined in a pen barely large enough to admit his body, constructed of two strong post-and-rail fences, like the parallel vaulting-bars at a gymnasium. Between these, which are slightly inclined towards the front, the elephant is squeezed, and then enclosed and forced to be obedient. The abbot of the monastery, who had held his post for thirty years, courteously allowed us to occupy an outbuilding of the temple. On going to the evening service we found the great, richly gilded image of Gaudama reclining on its right side, supporting its head with its hand, and covered by a star-spangled canopy. The image was forty-seven feet in length. The walls, ceilings, and pillars of the temple were tastefully decorated with gilt on a red lacquer ground, resembling the rich Japanese wall-papers now in vogue. The monotonous chant of the monks, and the great taper candles alight before the image, reminded me of a service in a Catholic cathedral. After the service I asked the abbot whether there was any history attached to the monastery; and in reply, he related the following legend: “During the existence on earth of the third Buddh, he came and lodged under the great mango-tree, near whose former site this temple stands, when a Yak, with the usual ogre propensities, not knowing that he was a Buddh, came to attack and devour him. On learning his mistake, the Yak made obeisance, and the Buddh gave him his blessing. One of the Yak’s teeth—Yak’s teeth are as large as wild-boar tusks—fell out, and the Buddh presented him with a handful of his hair, and told him to place it in the hollow of the tooth, and bury it in the Hoo Nak, or dragon’s hole.