My companions, who were full of ardour, determined to explore the inner recesses of the cave, and accordingly lighted their torches and proceeded farther into the bowels of the earth, whilst I enjoyed a quiet smoke amongst the gods. Down they went, creeping through narrow low passages, over rocks, and along ledges, with chasms and pits lining their path as the cave expanded, bottomless as far as they could judge by the faint light of their torches, but really not more than 20 or 30 feet deep, until they could get no farther, and had to return, having proceeded about an eighth of a mile. Two deer sprang up from the long grass close to us when we were returning to the camp, where we were glad to change our clothing and have a good rub down after our wade through the icy water. Before we had finished, the rain again came down in torrents, and we had to climb into our howdahs to complete our toilets. The _Boo-arks_ mark the western edge of the great plain through which the Meh Fang runs on its way to join the Meh Khoke, which passes Kiang Hai, and enters the Meh Kong, or Cambodia river, below Kiang Hsen. Two miles to the north-east of the _Boo-arks_ we reached the Meh Fang, and camped for the night. The river at our camp was 30 feet wide and 6 feet deep, with 1½ foot of water. Our crossing was 65½ miles from Zimmé, and 1747 feet above the sea. Much of the plain, as well as the low plateaux fringing it, are covered with teak-forest, and many of the trees are of great girth. A small deer sprang up from the long grass nearly at my elephant’s feet as I approached the camp. Here we passed the most unpleasant night we had yet spent, as we were troubled with rain, heat, and mosquitoes. The elephant-drivers, being piqued with my Madras boys ordering them about, chucked their clothes and bedding into a puddle. The boys dawdled as usual, instead of at once erecting their leafy shelter for the night, and they and their bedding got thoroughly drenched, and we had to make arrangements for their comfort in our tent. To increase our misfortunes, our Shan followers had appropriated our fowls on the sly, and we had to be satisfied with tinned soups and meats. The first leeches we had seen on the journey were found on our ankles when we took off our boots. Next morning we continued our march down the plain, passing some brick ruins and a _Viang Hau_, or Chinese fort. A mile beyond the fort we reached Ban Meh Kih, where the road to Zimmé _viâ_ Viang Pow and Muang Ken joins the route. The village, the first that we had seen since leaving Muang Ngai, contained only sixteen houses. At another village we were told that game was very plentiful. Wild cattle, larger than buffaloes, come in droves from the hills to graze in the plain, and rhinoceros and elephant roam about the hills. Pigs were, however, the greatest pest of the country, as they rooted up the crops.