"Yes," the captain answered, "that is quite true; but bear in mind that the boats you speak of were specially built for the voyages they undertook; they were well provisioned and watered, and were in the track of steamships, from which they could obtain fresh supplies nearly every day if they wanted them. The men who managed them were experienced sailors, and were provided with instruments by which they could work out their positions, and know where they were. In the case I speak of the boat was totally unfit for ocean navigation, the men on board had never looked on the sea, and knew nothing about it; they had no proper supply of provisions, no instruments whatever, and even if they had possessed any, they were ignorant of their use. When you consider all the circumstances, I think you will agree with me that the voyage of the five Burmese was the most remarkable you ever heard of." [Illustration: LANDING ON THE BEACH.] CHAPTER XII. FIRST DAY IN BURMAH.--THE GOLDEN PAGODA. The first land they saw in approaching Burmah was, as Fred expressed it, a light-house without any land visible for it to stand on. The light-house is on a dangerous reef of rocks more than a mile long, and quite covered at high-tide, and many a ship came to grief there before the beacon was erected. As there is no sign of land at the point where the light-house is first seen, the sight is a curious one. Fred and Frank were much interested in the spectacle, and when they first saw the tall structure of stone, 150 feet in height, they could hardly believe the evidence of their eyes. [Illustration: CREEK LEADING FROM THE RANGOON RIVER.] A boat headed for them, and before passing the light-house they had taken on board the pilot who was to show them the way to Rangoon. The city stands on one of the mouths of the Irrawaddy, twenty-six miles from the sea, and the boys were forcibly reminded of their visit to Saigon by the general similarity of the scenery at the mouths of the Meikong and the river they were now ascending. The branch on which Rangoon stands is known as the Rangoon River; it is nearly two miles wide at its mouth, but gradually narrows until it is only about a third of a mile across at the city itself. The banks are low and flat, and the scenery is monotonous; there are many little creeks and canals branching off from the river, and forming quite a net-work of waters navigable for small boats. Rice-fields and uncultivated swamps stretch away for long distances, and it was hardly necessary for the captain of the steamer to say that the region was an unhealthy one for foreigners.