Although the missionaries often pass through Penom-Peuh, my presence excited much curiosity among the people. The war in Cochin-China was the subject of all conversations, and in every one’s thoughts. The reports of the Chinese and Annamites who had seen the taking of the town of Saigou were not flattering to the pride of a Frenchman. I had not seen the glorious bulletins of our Admiral, but had the pain of hearing our enemies stigmatise us as barbarians, and, describing the burning of the market, and the conduct of the soldiery towards defenceless women, speak of it as “the behaviour of savages.” Thus the evil deeds of a less civilized ally were visited upon us, and our whole nation judged of by isolated acts, all but inevitable in time of war, especially in a country where the soldier suffers from the climate and privations of all kinds. The people, perhaps the most corrupted in all the East, expected to find in us men superior, morally, as well as intellectually and physically; and I dare to flatter myself that before long they will learn to distinguish between the characters of the true French soldiers and their allies, and that in every respect we shall recover our ancient prestige. The next day, descending the river toward the southern extremity of the city, we passed a floating town, composed of more than 500 boats, most of them of large size. They serve as an entrepôt for some merchants, and residences for others. All their money and the greater part of their merchandize is here kept, that, in case of alarm, they may be ready to take flight at a moment’s warning. [Illustration: Drawn by M Sabatier, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot. THE RIVER MEKON AT PENOM-PEUH.] THE MEKON. Shortly afterwards we entered the Mekon, which was only now beginning to rise, as, throughout the country the drought had been excessive, lasting much longer than usual. This great river, the name of which signifies “Mother of Rivers,” recalled to my mind the Menam, north of Bangkok, but its aspect is less gay; yet there is something very imposing in this expanse of water running with all the rapidity of a torrent. A few boats, scarcely distinguishable, toiled along: the banks, generally about 18 or 20 feet high, seemed almost deserted; and the forests were indistinctly discernible more than a mile beyond. In Siam the elegant foliage of the bamboos and palm-trees shows out strikingly against the blue sky, while the songs of the birds charm the ear: here, shoals of porpoises sail along with their noses to the wind, frequently bounding out of the water; pelicans sport on the margins of the stream, and herons and storks fly silently from among the reeds at our approach. These are the sole objects of interest.