
 
        
         
		been  harshly  treated  by  Chinese  and  Malay  traders,  
 who  have  forcibly  taken  their  possessions,  and  given  
 them  little,  if  anything,  in  return. 
 U  Shway  E  s  house  fronts  the  street,  under  the  
 bamboo-clad  hillside  on  which  the  Roman  Mission  is  
 established;  and  the  back  of  it  opens  to  the  sea.  It  
 is  a  very  dark  pile  of  wooden  buildings,  sloping  away  
 with  the  foreshore  from  the  level  of  the  street.  There  
 are  many  rooms,  and  in  one  of  these  a  small  Burmese  
 handmaiden  is  swinging  a  child  to  sleep,  While  we  
 sit  by  at  a  table  on  which  fresh  roses  are  set,  and  
 take  stock  of  the  neat  writing-table  at  which  a  Chinese  
 clerk,  who  talks  fluent  English,  is  at  work';  of the  letters  
 and  invoices  in  slips  of  bamboo,  which  line  the wooden  
 walls;  j  of  the  water-pots  in  an  alcove,  kept  cool  by  
 draughts  of air ;  of the Burmese women of the household,  
 wives  and  daughters  of  U  Shway  E   and  his  sons;  the  
 old man,  from  an  inner  chamber,  brings  out  to  gratify  us  
 the  quart  bottles  we  wish  to  see.  They  are  full  of  
 pearls  of  all  shapes  and  sizes,  and  represent  only  a  
 fraction  of  his  real  possessions.  He  brings  out  also  a  
 strange  collection  of  the  sea-commodities  in  which  he  
 deals,  bee he  de  tucv,  and  the  shells  of  green  sea-snails. 
 A  boat  from  the  islands  is  in,  and  he  sends  for  some  
 Sal6n  to  see  us,  ,and  three  fine  young  fellows,  soft  of  
 tread  and  shy  of  face,  enter  and  huddle  together on  the  
 floor.  They  have  broad  shoulders,  fine  limbs,  and  
 attractive  features.  They  are  dark  of  skin,  and  wear  
 brief  loin-cloths,  and  red  and  yellow  bandanas  about  
 their heads ;  bamboo  earrings  of  great  size  in  their  ears. 
 504 
 There  is  an  irony  in  the  contrast  between  their physique  
 and  youth,  and  their  timid  cowering  manner,  and  their  
 eyes  that  drop  instantly  they  encounter  ours.  The  
 moment we  turn  to  some  other  matter  they  silently  and  
 swiftly  disappear.  U  Shway  E  leads  us  after  them  
 down  some  stairs  and  across  a  backyard  of  rough  tree-  
 trunks  raised high  on piles,  to  the  edge of the  scaffolding  
 looking  out  to  sea,  and  there  we  come  upon  the whole  
 party  at  anchor. 
 There  are  several  boats  lashed  to  the  wooden  
 piles,  and  in  each  boat  there  is  a  group  of  three  or  
 four  Salón,  heartily  busy  with  an  ample  and  varied  
 breakfast.  They  eat  as  men  to  whom  food  is  the  
 supreme  luxury,  and  a  square meal  at  the  house  of  the  
 old  Chinaman,  when  they  come  to Mergui,  is  one of  the  
 links  in  the  system  of  barter which  binds  them  together.  
 For  the  Salón  has  come  a  very  little way  on  the  road  ot  
 life.  He  can  grow  nothing  for  himself,  and,  for  all  but  
 the  natural  products  of  the  islands  and  the  sea,  he  is-  
 dependent  on  some  one  else.  His  only  home  is  his  
 boat,  in  which  he  lives  throughout  the  north-east  
 monsoon.  During  the  south-west  monsoon,  he  builds  
 himself  a  little  hut  on  piles  ;  but  this  is  the  most  
 temporary  of  erections,  and  forms  no  part  of  his  real  
 belongings.  The  Salón  boat,  a  dugout  at-bottom,  is  
 well  finished,  and  admirably  designed  for  buoyancy  and  
 speed.  Its  accommodation  is  increased  by  side walls  o f  
 cork  and  cane,  which  begin  where  the  wooden  base  
 ends.  The  oars  are  very  shapely,  and  end  in  a  blade  
 like  that  of  a  broadsword.  The  boats  before  us  here 
 SOS