As a matter of fact, the Siamese co-operation was purely nominal and valueless, too late to be of any use. On the 11th of December Bangkok was informed that the columns from the Shan States and Papun would reach Sawlôn about the 7th of January. On the 28th of December the Vice-Consul at Chiengmai was told of the attack by the Karennis on the police post at Kyaukhnyat, and was asked to move the Siamese to act. On the 10th of January the result of the fight near Loikaw was telegraphed to Bangkok and Chiengmai. On the 17th they were informed of the occupation of Sawlôn. While Mr. Hildebrand was arranging matters after the occupation, a detachment of troops went to reconnoitre Ywathit, a village on the right bank of the Salween, about thirty miles south of Sawlôn. From Ywathit a party went out to see the Salween, some three miles away. This was on the 20th of January. On the evening of that day the advance-guard of the Siamese force appeared on the east bank of the Salween, at the mouth of the Mèpai Chaung, and the officer commanding this party was visited by the Assistant Commissioner, Mr. Barnard, on the 21st of January. It was known from the Vice-Consul at Chiengmai that the Siamese had taken no action until the middle of January. This, however, is a digression. On the day following the election, a Durbar was held in a large hall in the rest-house in the grounds of the monastery, near which the Superintendent had pitched his camp. The place was well fitted for the occasion and was more ornate than one would have expected to find in the wilds of Karenni. A spacious chamber "built of the best sawn teak with venetians and folding doors of good workmanship, and a floor which might have been made for a ball-room, the whole," writes the Superintendent, "both inside and out being very highly finished with panelling and carving and gilding." Here the notables, who had met for the election of the new chief, and all the townspeople assembled, and the Superintendent (as the Representative of the British Government), supported by the General commanding and all the officers of the force, opened the Durbar. A broad, sturdy figure of a man, with a face that bore the marks of work and climate, a determined man, patient and considerate, but nevertheless a man accustomed to be obeyed. There were no bright uniforms, no show of gold or scarlet. Civil and military were all in the working-dress of the field, soiled and stained with dust and sweat; for the last few marches through the wooded defile of the Pon Chaung had been very toilsome. Amongst the Shans and Karens assembled, some spots of gay colour might be seen, and smart white jackets here and there.