It did tend to send him off on another track, however, and he next remarked
that if he sent us to a place where the hunting was disappointing we
probably would report him to the district mandarin. Assurances to the
contrary had no effect. It was perfectly evident that he wished only to get
us out of his district and thus relieve himself of the responsibility of
our safety. During the conversation, which lasted more than an hour, the
young Shan was not consulted and did not speak a word; he sat stolidly in
his chair, hardly winking, and except for the constant supply of cigarettes
which passed between his fingers there was no evidence that he even
breathed.

The interview closed with assurances from the Chinaman that he would make
inquiries concerning hunting grounds and communicate with us in the
morning. We returned to camp and half an hour later a party of natives
arrived from the _yamen_ bearing about one hundred pounds of rice, a sack
of potatoes, two dozen eggs, three chickens, and a great bundle of fire
wood. These were deposited in front of our tent as gifts from the mandarin.

We were at a loss to account for such generosity until Wu explained that
whenever a high official visited a village it was customary for the
mandarin to supply his entire party with food during their stay. It would
be quite polite to send back all except a few articles, however, for the
supplies were levied from the inhabitants of the town. We kept the eggs and
chickens, giving the _yamen_ "runners" considerably more than their value
in money, and they gratefully returned with the rice and potatoes.

On the hill high above our camp was a large Shan Buddhist monastery, bamboo
walled and thatched with straw, and at sunset and daybreak a musical chant
of childish voices floated down to us in the mist-filled valley. All day
long tiny yellow-robed figures squatted on the mud walls about the temple
like a flock of birds peering at us with bright round eyes. They were wild
as hawks, these little priests and, although they sometimes left the
shelter of their temple walls, they never ventured below the bushy hedge
about our rice field.

In the village we saw them often, wandering about the streets or sitting in
yellow groups beneath the giant trees which threw a welcome shade over
almost every house. They were not all children, and finely built youths or
men so old that they seemed like wrinkled bits of lemon peel, passed to and
fro to the tem