on the low undulating ground between the river and the
hills. Opposite this village there is a beautiful wooded
tributary, which comes winding its way from the remote
heart o f the country. Plantain orchards and palmyra
groves ; park-like trees ; armies of silver-headed river-
grass, pink when ruffled by the wind (sign of a falling
river) ; dark ruins of old pagodas ; wild plum hedges ;
banners of tagôn-daings ; the gold of new htis on white
pagodas ; red-striped cliffs rising sheer from the water,
with gaps at intervals, showing in perspective wooded
hollows and grassy knolls which tempt the river traveller
to step ashore and make a nearer acquaintance— o f
such is the world compact, at this portion of the river’s
course.
At Mijaung-yay (Crocodile Water) there are white
pagodas and red houses in a line, and a road from here
leads over the rolling uplands to thé old walled city
of Taung-dwin-gyi, under the flanks of the Pegu Yoma.
Sudden squalls overtake us at this season of mid-
September ; first a purple bank coming up from the
south ; then a yellow mist, and the driving swish of
rain. The river, turbulent one moment, is quiet again
the next. The sun shines in splendid patches on the
green hills, while the purple storm is still on its way.
At Malun, an eminence crowned with white stairs
and pagodas, there is a cenotaph in memory of the
famous Bandoola. Here, in its neighbourhood, at
Minhla, the Burmese army made its only attempt to
stay the final British advance in 1885.
The fort at Minhla stands above the edge of the
v o l . i. 3°S x