The Meh Fang, which we crossed after breakfast, was 60 feet wide and 6 feet deep, with 1 foot of water. Its bed is composed of pebbles coming from sandstone, slate, granite, and quartz formations. The crossing was 61½ miles from Zimmé, and 1954 feet above sea-level. A little farther on we crossed a bend in the river in which a number of men and women were fishing, who, scared at our appearance, scuttled away as fast as they could—the women screaming with terror at the sight of my Madras servants. These boys were always amused at the horror and panic their black faces inspired in the women. After crossing the bend we left the river, and for the next mile gradually ascended to the summit of the water-parting that separates the affluents of the Meh Fang, which flows into the Meh Kong, from those of the Meh Pam, which joins the Meh Ping below Muang Ngai. The summit of this pass is 59¼ miles from Zimmé, and only 2158 feet above the sea. A railway from Zimmé to Muang Fang, and thence to Kiang Hsen, would certainly be aligned up the valley of the Meh Pam, and over this pass into the basin of the Meh Fang. The rise from the latter river to the crest of the pass is only 204 feet. In ascending the pass I noticed many palms, resembling small cocoa-nut trees, and seeing that they were in blossom, asked a man to get me some of the flowers, when he refused flatly, saying, “Whoever touched them would certainly suffer from the itch.” The wood of this palm is used in the construction of weaving-looms. The jungle was very dense, with aroids, ferns, and wild plantains scattered through the undergrowth. There are many plants in the jungle that one has to be chary in handling. Some blister the hand, while others are covered with prongs like fish-hooks. When riding, the eyes have to be kept constantly on the look-out, or your head-covering will be carried away and your coat torn into ribbons by these snares for the unwary. The Shan States afford constant surprises, and one was before us as we looked to the west in descending the pass. Although we had crossed the water-parting, the high range of mountains which we had passed over on our former journey at the Pa Too Pa was still to our right, and we were now at the head of a valley worn out of the plateau formation at the foot of its slope. The range is here called Loi Pa Chan, and is limestone overlying sandstone, the latter rock appearing in the stream that drains the valley. The left side of the valley, from its easy slope, seemed especially made for railway purposes.