they rush down in cataracts, bringing with them, in helpless
chaos, boulders and trees and sand. Near the lower
end of the defile the river, winding a1 narrow and sinuous
course through the rocks known as the Elephant, Cow,
and Granary, enters on one of its most exquisite passages.
The rocks, fancifully ;so named, stretch across in a
broken line from shore to shore. For half the year
they are covered; but in winter they lie exposed,
glistening in the sun, and revealing the true width of
the channel, here scarcely more than eighty yards
across, but of immeasurable depth. Their sheer bare
sides, of a polished grey-green hue, afford no footing
for life ; but on their rugged summits the, receding
river leaves a thin deposit of rich silt, in which
tussocks of vivid grass find a home, their lively beauty
enhanced by their grim setting. In the days soon
after the war, when the channel was less known, a
small steamer came to a violent end amid these
dangerous reefs, which, in the flawless’ calm of a winter
afternoon, present an aspect of placid beauty.
Below the Elephant and Cow the little hamlet of
Tamangyi shows out from the leafy hillside, and the
river, freed from its iron fetters, lengthens out into a
long dreamy reach, in which the varied hills and woods
and the opalescent clouds, that trail like the pinions of
another world overhead, attain redoubled beauty. A
moment, and the dream sweeps b y ; the great curtain of
the hills folds swiftly back, revealing a distant glimpse
of the Shan mountains ; and the waters, sparkling in
the broad sunlight, seem visibly to rejoice at the
- 166,
te rmin ation o f §
their long a n d
arduous passage
through the territories
of the First
Defile.
Few signs of life
greet the traveller
between S e n b o t h e e l e p h a n t
and Tamangyi. An occasional boat or dugout, a
thatched hut high up on the steep declivities,, at the
lower end some blue-coated Chinese Shan quarrying
for stone, a rare pagoda ; such are the faint symptoms
of man's dominion. For the rest, a startled otter op
the rocks; a white-headed fish-eagle with keen gaze
intent on his prey ; a cormorant, poised on a stake, and
drying his dripping wings with obtrusive philosophy ;
a panther swimming hurriedly for life across the fast-
flowing river ; the short, quick call of barking deer,
or the sullen roar of a tiger making off up one of
the leafy watercourses. All else is loneliness and
solitude.
Feaving the hills, the river spreads out to ambitious
dimensions, and flowing past the site o f ancient
Sampenago, receives before it reaches Bhamo the
tributary waters of the Taping.
THE SECOND DEFILE
A few miles below Bhamo, the Irrawaddy, leaving
behind it a great mass of mountains, the loftiest peaks
167