But we must no longer tarry at Lakon. We must once more launch the boats of our adventurous voyagers, and continue our exploration of the great river. It waters a populous country, and large towns are of frequent occurrence on its banks. We pass Hoûten, with its pagodas, its mountains, and green woods; Saniabury, with its rude pottery-manufacture; verdurous islands and shining sandbanks; and the mouths of the many streams which help to swell the abundant volume of the Mekong. From Saniabury the French expedition proceeded to Bouncang, a large and beautiful village at the mouth of the Nam San; thence to Nong Kay, where a Buddhist tat or pyramidal landmark, erected to indicate a sacred spot, or to enshrine a relic, has been washed away from the shore, and now lies half submerged, like a wrecked ship; and thence to Vien Chan, where the river widens into a channel of a thousand yards in width, before it enters the mountain region. Vien Chan, now a heap of ruins, was the former metropolis of the kingdom of Laos; and relics of antiquity spread over a considerable area testify to its ancient prosperity and splendour. The remains of the royal palace are interesting. It does not seem to have been built of very durable materials, the walls and staircases being faced with, and the pavement and flooring composed of, bricks, wood, or a kind of cement; but the entire structure still exhibits a certain elegance of character, and a remarkable wealth of decoration--the columns of wood have been tastefully carved and profusely gilded; and the whole is embellished with mouldings, and arabesques, and fantastic animal-figures. [Illustration: BUDDHIST TAT AT NONG KAY.] The absolute silence reigning within the precincts of a city formerly so rich and populous, was, however, much more impressive than any of its monuments; more impressive even than the deserted topes or Buddhist temples which raised their domes in the shadow of the surrounding forest. ~THE BUDDHIST TEMPLES.~ These, abandoned by their priests, and constructed of the same materials as the palace, are rapidly decaying. The rapid vegetation of the tropics, which softens happily the pitiful aspect of Desolation with its flowers and verdure, lends to these ruined sanctuaries, at a distance, a delusive air of age; tall grasses grow everywhere about the sacred precincts, creepers and parasites twine round each column, and vigorous trees force their crests through the shattered roofs in search of light.