ound me
as I stood in the open square in front of the Sawbwa's yamen. I was hot
and hungry, for it was still early in the afternoon, and the attentions
of the people were oppressive. Presently two men pushed their way
through the spectators, and politely motioning to me to follow them,
they led me to a neighbouring temple, to the upper storey, where the
side pavilion off the chief hall was being prepared for my reception. My
quarters overlooked the main court; the pony was comfortably stabled in
the corner below me. Nothing could have been pleasanter than the
attention I received here. Two foreign chairs were brought for my use,
and half a dozen dishes of good food and clean chopsticks were set
before me. The chief priest welcomed me, whose smiling face was
good-nature itself. With clean-shaven head and a long robe of grey, with
a rosary of black and white beads hung loosely from his neck, the kind
old man moved about my room giving orders for my comfort. He held
authority over a number of priests, some in black, others in yellow, and
over a small band of choristers. Religion was an active performance in
the temple, and the temple was in good order, with clean matting and
well-kept shrines, with strange pictures on the walls of elephants and
horses, with legends and scrolls in Burmese as well as in Chinese.

Towards evening the Santa Sawbwa, the hereditary prince (what a
privilege it was to meet a prince! I had never met even a lord before in
my life, or anyone approaching the rank of a lord, except a spurious
Duke of York whom I sent to the lunatic asylum), the _Prince_ of Santa
paid me a State call, accompanied by a well-ordered retinue, very
different indeed from the ragged reprobates who follow at the heels of a
Chinese grandee when on a visit of ceremony. The Sawbwa occupied one
chair, his distinguished guest the other, till the chief priest came in,
when, with that deep reverence for the cloth which has always
characterised me, I rose and gave him mine. He refused to take it, but I
insisted; he pretended to be as reluctant to occupy it as any Frenchman,
but I pushed him bodily into it, and that ended the matter.

A pleasant, kindly fellow is the Prince; even among the Shans he is
conspicuous for his courtesy and amiability. He was a great favourite
with the English Boundary Commission, and in his turn remembers with
much pleasure his association with them. Half a dozen times, when
conversation flagged, he raised