One day we visited the remains of the two ancient cities of Yain Sa Lin, situated about a mile to the south-east of the town, and surrounded and divided from each other by moats and ditches. Their area, which is now overgrown by a forest of great trees, is much larger than that of Maing Loongyee, but contains no visible ruins of ancient date. The small pagodas and ruined temples are modern, having been built in recent times by villagers occupying and cultivating part of the enclosure. The cities were situated on a knoll, and the western ramparts have been swept away by the encroachments of the river. The old city, together with 400 Talaings, or Peguans, according to the ‘Lapoon Chronicle,’ were handed over to the Shan chief of Lapoon as a dowry when he married the daughter of Thoo-tha Thoma, the King of Pegu, in A.D. 1289. Another day we crossed the river, which lies to the west of the town, to visit the earth-hills and take photographs of the country from the platform of a pagoda, which stands out well against the sky. The water was about three feet deep, and the bottom covered with large pebbles, giving a rather insecure foothold. I was carried across perched on the shoulders of two men. Dr Cushing waded the stream, and resumed his nether garments on the other bank. I could not help glancing slily at him as he tottered along, his predicament being so ridiculous for such a grave and learned man, and his action so like that of the pilgrim who had not boiled his peas. The path over the hills was covered with small rounded gravel washed out of the earth, which rendered it very slippery for shod feet. The hills were crested with large pine-trees, the first we had seen, and their sides were crumbling away in great landslips caused by the small streams, which carried off the rainfall, undermining the friable earth. Some of the spurs we passed along were barely two feet wide at the top, with slopes often nearly sheer descents. Walking along these, and peering at times into the abysses, I suddenly became dizzy, and had to take a man’s hand to help me along until I reached a broader track. On and on we went, trying to reach the pagoda. The hills proved to be maze-like in character; so at last we gave up the attempt, and I took the photographs from another position. I was not sorry when we got back to the house without a mishap. From the foresters, purposely summoned by Moung Kin to give me the information, I procured the names of thirty-three Lawa villages, forty-six fixed Karen villages, and eleven Shan villages, including the city, in the basin of the Meh Nium, and its branches. The Lawa villages contained on an average forty-two houses; the Karen, twenty houses; and the Shan, thirty-six houses. None of these foresters were working in the valley of the Meh Ngor, so its fixed villages are omitted.