C H A P T E R XLVI I I
L 'E N VO I
I L E F T this morning for Kyatpyin, by the bridle
road that climbs ' over the hills behind the
European settlement. It was a morning of great
beauty, half-cloud, half-sunshine, and the noble form
of the Chinthé-Taung overtopped everything with its
splendour. I do not think that there is anywhere
in the. world a hill more beautiful than this. In thé
winter it wears a wonderful garb of ruddy pink and
green, and at this season it is exquisitely coloured in
hues of emerald and purple. And this comes ,of the
long grass that covers all its shoulders, and of the
deep woods that lie between, in the furrows and little
valleys made by the rain. Moreover, it is seven
thousand feet in height, and very noble in outline.
Soon after leaving Mogôk, my pony was picking
his way along the cobbled lanes in the village" of
Yé-boo. It lies in the hollow of the little valley; and
a willow-bordered stream runs by it. Its hedges are
of pink roses, twined amongst espaliers of bamboo,
and every lane is a double line of flowers, overlooked
by silky peaches, and orange-groves, and
ripening plums. Beyond it there is a great expanse
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