The following morning a two miles’ march over a hill in a dense mist brought us to Meh Ka Tone, a good-sized house on the banks of the Meh Nium. The river is here about 150 feet broad, with banks 12 feet high, and water 3 feet deep. Meh Ka Tone lies 76 miles from Hlineboay, and 451 feet above sea-level. The house belonged to a forester who was absent, having left a Kamook slave in charge. Two Karen pigs, small, hairy, slate-coloured creatures, with dark bristling manes, were tied up by perpendicular strings under the house, so that they could neither lie down nor walk until the strings were slackened. As we had been feeding on tinned meat for the last two days, some of our fowls having been quietly appropriated by the Karens, we tried hard to persuade the man to sell us one of the pigs and a few of the fowls that were scuttling about, but all in vain,—they were his master’s property, and he dared not part with them at any price without his consent. Resuming the march and proceeding up the valley, now and then crossing hill-spurs and river-bends for the sake of shortness, at the eighty-third mile we again entered cultivated land, near the deserted village of Meh Kok, the site of which is now only marked by cocoa-nut and mango trees. The crests of the main spurs of the ranges of hills on either side appeared to be three miles distant; but on the west, a curious parallel range or formation, rising some 500 or 600 feet above the plain, lies between the main range and the river. On visiting these hills from Maing Loongyee we found them a perfect maze of equal elevation, looking like a gigantic Chinese puzzle, composed solely of friable earth, and rapidly frittering away,—there could be no doubt that we were looking at the remains of an old lake-bottom. The plain, which is adorned with a great variety of flowering trees and shrubs, like the rest of the country we had passed through, containing much valuable timber besides teak, gradually increased in breadth as we proceeded, and is a mile and a half wide at Maing Loongyee. Several Karen and Lawa, and a few Shan, villages are dotted about it, but the cultivation is insufficient for the wants of the people, most of whom are engaged in forest operations. Rice has therefore to be imported from Zimmé. Many of the villages in the plain were placed under taboo, owing to an outbreak of smallpox, a disease much dreaded by the hill tribes. The paths leading to such villages are stopped by a branch of a tree being thrown across them, and magical formulæ are stuck up in order to keep the evil spirits who propagate the disease from the village. No stranger dare enter a village so guarded. Should he do so, and death or illness subsequently happen, he would be held responsible. Life, or the price of life, for life, is exacted in such cases.