From this point, for thirty miles, as far as Malé and Tsampenago, the country on either bank is hilly, and covered to the water’s edge with luxuriant forest. Winding in a succession of long reaches, the river presents a series of lovely lake landscapes. The stream, one thousand to fifteen hundred yards wide, flows placid and unbroken, save by the gambols of round-headed dolphins. As, preceded by long lines of these creatures, we steamed slowly along, each successive reach seemed barred by wooded cliffs. Reminiscences of the lake scenery of the old country were vividly awakened as we passed from one apparently land-locked scene of beauty to another. The high irregular hills were clothed with forest trees almost hidden by brilliant orchids and gigantic pendant creepers. Palms of various kinds feathered the water’s edge. Here and there fishing-villages peeped out, and everywhere graceful pagodas and priests’ houses gleamed amid the foliage. Parroquets darted and hornbills winged their heavy flight across the stream, while chattering troops of long-tailed black monkeys escorted the unusual visitors along the banks. The chief object of interest is the little rocky island of Theehadaw, which boasts the only stone pagoda in Burma, and is resorted to by numbers of pilgrims at the great Buddhist festival in March. The pagoda is of no great size, but is substantially built of greyish sandstone admirably cut and laid in mortar. The building rises from a quadrangular base, with a chamber facing the east and closed with massive doors. The three other faces have false doors, and the sides of all, as well as the angles, are adorned with quasi-Doric pilasters. Our attention, like that of most pilgrims, was chiefly given to the famous tame fish. Having supplied ourselves with rice and plantains, the boatmen, called “Tit-tit-tit.” Soon the fish appeared, about fifty yards off, and after repeated cries, they were alongside, greedily devouring the offering of food. In their eagerness they showed their uncouth heads and great part of their backs, to which patches of gold leaf, laid on by recent devotees, still adhered. So tame were they that they suffered themselves to be stroked, and seemed to relish having their long feelers pulled. One fellow to whom a plantain skin was thrown indignantly rejected it, and dived in disgust.