The city of Muang Ngai is surrounded, like Kiang Dow, with a strong stockade, and contains 100 houses. It is situated a mile to the west of the Meh Ping, near where the river alters its direction from south-east to due south. The view up the valley of the river is shut in by a low plateau covered with high-tree forest on the right; in front, as far as the eye can reach, three sharp peaks are seen on the horizon, in the direction of the source of the river, which is said to lie nearly due north-west, about 50 miles distant in an air-line; to the left, the country appeared a jumble of hills, all dwarfed by Loi Nan, which stood up thousands of feet above the plain, with its bold precipitous head facing the city at a distance of about six miles. After sketching the hills, I visited the remains of the ancient city of Kiang Ngai, which lies three-quarters of a mile to the north-west, and is said to have been built by the Lawas, under a chief named A-Koop-Norp, who is still worshipped as the guardian spirit of the district, and has pigs sacrificed to him. On returning to Muang Ngai we had dinner, and were invited by a Shan gentleman to a play that he was giving that evening in the open air. The play turned out to be far inferior to any that I had seen in Burmah. The only performers were three young men, dressed in their ordinary costume, who were squatted on a mat waving lighted tapers, whilst they chanted some legend or romance. The actors were accompanied by musicians playing on the Laos organ or pipes. When tired of the dreary performance, we accepted the invitation of one of the head-men, an old acquaintance of Dr M‘Gilvary’s, to visit his house, which overlooked the play, where we soon had a larger audience than was present at the performance, and were served with rice wafers and molasses cakes, handed to us on red lacquered wooden salvers. [Illustration: _View up the valley of the Meh Ping from Muang Ngai._ ] A great stack of pillows, mats, water-bottles, betel-boxes, fans, and other articles, lay in the corner of the verandah ready to be offered at the monastery the next day. Before we left, the son of the governor came to tell us that his father would be pleased if we paid him a visit that evening, as he had heard we were leaving early the next day.