We descended the pass to the Meh Ngat, and after breakfast continued up the valley of that stream for a mile and a half, when we crossed it near where some men and half-a-dozen women were fishing in the stream. These hurried away as fast as they could put foot to ground, and hid themselves in the forest. Our crossing was 48 miles from Zimmé, and 1676 feet above sea-level; and the river 30 feet broad and 4 feet deep, with 6 inches of water in its bed. Leaving the stream, we marched over the low plateau round which the stream turns to enter the great plain of Muang Pow (Pau). On reaching the plain we had a magnificent view of Loi Chaum Haut and its eastern spurs, and could see the head of Loi Kiang Dow peeping over the hills I had sketched at Ban Meh Meh. To the east of the plain, which averages 12 miles in length and 8 miles in width, spur after spur was seen stretching in a south-easterly direction to the range in the background that divides the waters of the Meh Ping from those of the Meh Low. To the south the Meh Ngat breaks through the hills in a long defile, and to the north appeared the hills we had passed on our journey. Nothing could be more peaceful than the aspect of this beautifully situated plain. It seemed to be cut off from the turmoil and din of the world by the surrounding mountains,—a place one might long to retire to— “Where rumour of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war, Might never reach me more.” But history tells a different tale: this pleasant little valley, encircled by beautiful parks of trees skirting the foot of the surrounding hills, has been the theatre of many a hostile raid, and its inhabitants are migrating from it, being discontented with the imposition of monopolies which they consider to be oppressive. Owing to the sparseness of the present population, only a small portion of the rich plain was under cultivation; but it had evidently at one time been nearly entirely under rice, as only a few stunted trees, chiefly _pouk_ (the stick-lac tree) and _mai cha-lau_, were scattered about it. After marching through the plain for 3 miles, we entered the north gate of Viang Pow, which is situated 44 miles from Zimmé, and 1426 feet above the sea. The city was surrounded by a newly constructed palisade raised above a low rampart, and by a ditch 10 feet broad and 1 foot deep. Continuing along the main road of the city, we halted at a _sala_, nearly opposite the court-house. On hearing of our arrival, the brother of the governor, who was setting out the site of a new house, sent to borrow a compass so as to test whether he had guessed the true north and south. On proceeding to the spot, I found the posts had been placed only 5° out of the true magnetic meridian, giving the same error that appeared in the alignment of the main street. The city is well laid out, the roads are broad, and the whole place has an aspect of neatness and order.