Their manner of preparing a rice-field is very different from the way in which our agriculturists set about matters. As soon as the first rains begin to fall, the Stiên chooses his ground, and busies himself in clearing it. This would be a laborious task for a European; but he, with his hatchet with cane handle, has in a few days cut down a thicket of bamboos 100 or 150 mètres square. If he meets with any tree too large for him to manage, he leaves it standing. After a few days, when the canes are a little dry, he sets fire to them, and the field is soon cleared. As for the roots, he cares little about them, as no digging is required; on this virgin soil everything grows with little labour. There only remains to sow the seed, and for this purpose he takes two long bamboos, which he lays in a line on the ground; then, with a stick in each hand, he makes on each side of this line holes about an inch or an inch and a half deep at short distances. The man’s work is now finished, and that of the woman begins: stooping down, she follows the line traced by her husband, and from a basket carried at her left side takes a handful of rice, of which she throws a few grains into each hole with great rapidity, and at the same time so dexterously that it is rare for any to fall outside. In a few hours the task is finished, for here there is no need of harrow or plough; kind Nature will soon send some violent showers, which, washing the soil over the holes, will cover the seeds. Then the proprietor establishes himself in his hut, where, as he smokes his cigarette (made of tobacco rolled in some leaf), he lets fly his arrows at the wild boars, apes, or goats, or amuses himself by frightening away the doves and parroquets. To this end, a couple of bamboos are so placed in the middle of the field that, by pulling a rope made of rattan, they are made to strike against each other, and the noise scares away the birds, which without some such contrivance would eat up all the seed. The harvest is reaped at the end of October. Generally, two months previously poverty and famine begin to make themselves felt. As long as provisions last they feast without ever thinking of the morrow; when they are exhausted they are reduced to eat serpents, toads, and bats, which last are found in great numbers in the hollows of the old bamboos. Often they have even to content themselves with the seeds of the maize, young bamboo-shoots, wild roots, and other spontaneous productions of the ground. All the domestic animals of the neighbouring countries, such as oxen, pigs, fowls, and ducks, are found here, but in small numbers. Elephants are scarce; but farther north, among the tribe of the Benams, it is said that no village is without them.