But what a spectacle we have in the long lines of little cows and oxen, each laden with baskets of rice which they are carrying from the harvest-fields! Two long baskets, holding perhaps a bushel, are joined by a yoke which rests on the animal’s back, while the baskets hang at its sides in the fashion of saddle-bags. In one train we may see twenty, forty or one hundred, and they walk single file. The leader has great preeminence in having its face masked with an embroidery of shellwork, while over its head stream the gay feathers of the peacock, and a string of bells (resembling sleigh-bells) is hung around its neck. Many of the others also have bells, and what a merry sound they make as they pass along on the banks above us! This is the only way the Laos utilize the cow, for they abhor milk and butter. At Rahang we saw elephants in limited numbers, but here we see them in scores. This is literally true in the case of a prince’s retinue, when we see from forty to sixty or more in one procession. They are in universal use as beasts of burden. See those large buffaloes that stand at the edge of the water! They have short and thin hair――in some pinkish in color, in others gray. To cool themselves and to escape the biting insects they walk into the river and lie down, and are so completely submerged that not a spot of them is visible but the nose. Sometimes we see them standing in the water and birds hopping along their backs or perching between the huge horns. The buffalo manifests no annoyance, and the birds have it all their own way. They are old and familiar friends. These buffaloes are used in ploughing, and they also tread out the rice. As it is now toward the close of the dry season, we frequently meet men and women fording the river, who in passing near our boat give the salutation of _Pi n’i tua?_――_i. e._ “Going where? coming from where?” It is a customary greeting, and carries no impertinence in it. We have answered this question from prince and peasant many a time during our journey, and it is rather a suggestive one, as in our reply we add _why_ we come. And here, walking about in the river, are the fishermen, busy by night and by day in their eager pursuits. At any hour of the night when we awaken we see their torchlights flashing hither and thither up and down the river. So onward we go, seeing strange new sights and customs, passing village after village, exchanging greetings with the people; then through long miles of loneliness, where we are hedged in by trees and thickets of perennial green; yet with prow ever to the north (Cheung Mai the lodestone) we are steadily and surely nearing our goal. And now, as we round this bend, the plain of Cheung Mai and the grand old mountains in the north-west come into full view. (The walled city, a mile distant to the westward, is not in the line of vision.)