d. Brownish: side of the face, under the chin, and the whole of the

throat, chest, and belly black: teats well developed.

_Young._--Uniform dirty white, without any black spot on chest or head.

All those varieties were found by M. Mouhot on a small island near Cambodia. (Described by Dr. J. E. Gray, Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, p. 135.)

_b._ CARNIVORES.

2. _Herpestes rutilus._

Grizzled chestnut-brown, variegated with black and white rings on the hairs: the head and limbs darker chestnut, with scarcely any hair, and very narrow white rings: lips and throat, and under part of the body, uniform duller brown; the nape with longer hairs, forming a broad short crest.

Cambodia. (Gray, Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, p. 136.)

c. SQUIRRELS.

3. _Sciurus Mouhotii._

Grizzled grey brown, with pale rings: lips, chin, throat, and under side of body and inside of limbs white: the upper part of the sides with a longitudinal black streak, edged above and below with a narrow white line: tail blackish, whitish washed, hairs elongate, brown, with two broad black rings and a white tip: ears simple, rounded.

The species differs from most of the squirrels of the size, in the three streaks being on the upper part of the back, and in the dark colour between the two colours of the upper and under surface.

Cambodia. (Named by Dr. J. E. Gray, after M. Mouhot, and described in Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, p. 137.)

4. _Sciurus splendens._

All the specimens are bright red bay.

_Var._ 1.--All over dark, and very intense red bay, with a white spot on each side of the base of the tail.

_Var._ 2.--Top of the head and tail, like var. 1, dark and very intense red bay: side of the back, under sides of the body, and tip of the tail paler red bay, without any white spot at the base of the tail.

_Var._ 3.--Uniform pale bay, like the side of var. 2: tail and middle of the back rather darker and brighter: tail without pale tip or white basal spot.

_Var._ 4.--Crown, middle of the back, and tail dark intense red bay: throat, chest, and under side paler red bay, like var. 2, 3: cheeks, shoulders, and thighs, and outsides of the fore and hind legs brown, grizzled, with yellow rings on the hairs: side of the body rather greyish red.

Cambodia. (Gray, Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, p. 137.)

5. _Sciurus siamensis._

Bright red-brown, grizzled, with elongate black tips to the longer hairs, each of which is marked with a broad subterminal yellow band. These black hairs are more abundant and have broad pale rings on the rump, outside of the thighs, and especially on the lower part of the tail, where they nearly hide the general red colour. The terminal half of the tail bright chestnut-brown, without any black hairs or pale rings. The throat, breast, belly, lower part of sides, inner side and edge of the legs, uniform bright red-brown: ears rounded: whiskers black: feet covered with short close-pressed hairs.

(Gray, Proc. Zool. Soc., 1859, p. 478.)

_d._ RUMINANTS.

6. _Tragulus affinis._

Similar to T. javanicus in colour, but rather smaller and much paler, and the side of the neck similar in colour to the side of the body: the belly is white, with a brown streak on each side of the central line: the head is smaller. It is larger than _T. kanchil_; very much paler; and the neck is not blacker and grizzled. A specimen of the species has been in the British Museum, as above named, for many years: it is said to have come from Singapore; but that probably was only the port of transit. It may be only a small pale local variety of _T. kanchil_.

Six specimens, adult, all exactly similar, and one young, have been collected by M. Mouhot. (Gray, Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, p. 138.)

7. _Cervulus cambojensis._

There are the forehead covered with hair and the horns of a Muntjack in the collection sent by M. Mouhot from Cambodia: it is very much larger than any specimen of that genus in the British Museum collection, and is probably a distinct species.

The horns are thick, nearly straight, with a short, thick recurved branch on the outer part of the front side, near the base, and one of them has a somewhat similar callosity on the hinder side on the same level. Hair of forehead very rigid, close pressed, dark brown, with narrow yellow rings. (Gray, Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, p. 138.)

LIST OF THE NEW SPECIES OF REPTILES DISCOVERED BY THE LATE M. MOUHOT IN SIAM AND CAMBODIA.

BY DR. ALBERT GÜNTHER.

_a._ TORTOISES.

1. _Geoclemys macrocephala._

REPTILES.

The shell oblong, rather depressed, entirely three-keeled, olive-brown: the keels subcontinued, nearly parallel; the middle one higher and more distinct behind; the lateral ones, near the upper edge of the shields, continued, ending abruptly on the hinder edge of the third lateral discal shield: the hinder lateral and central shield only marked with a slight convexity: the margin entire, yellow edged: the under side yellow, with black triangular spots: the sternum flat, very indistinctly keeled on the side.

Animal black olive, head large; crown flat, covered with a single smooth plate, purplish-brown, with two streaks from middle of the nose; the upper edging the crown, the other the upper part of the beak, and with two streaks from the hinder edge of the orbit; the lower short and interrupted, extended on the temple; the upper broader and continued over the ear, along the side of the neck; two close streaks under the nostrils to the middle of the upper jaw, and two broad streaks dilated behind, down the front of the lower jaw, and continued on the edge of the lower jaw behind: the nape and hinder part of the side of the lower jaw covered with large flat scales: the rest of the neck and legs covered with minute granular scales: the front of the forelegs covered with broad band-like scales: the toes of the fore and hind feet rather short and thick, covered above with broad band-like scales. (Gray, Proc. Zool. Soc., 1859, p. 479, pl. 21.)

2. _Cyclemys Mouhotii._

Shell oblong, pale yellow; back flattened above, with a dark-edged keel on each side: the vertebral plates continuously keeled, and rather tubercular in front: the margin strongly dentated: nuchal shield distinct. (Gray, Ann. and Mag. Nat. Hist., 1862, x. p. 157; Günth., Rept. Brit. Ind., pl. 4, fig. D.)

3. _Trionyx ornatus._

Back of the young animal, in spirits, brown, with large, unequal-sized, irregularly disposed black circular spots: head olive, with symmetrical small black spots on the chin, forehead, and nose: throat and sides of neck with large, unequal-sized, irregular-shaped, and nearly symmetrically disposed yellow spots: legs olive, yellow spotted in front: sternum and under side of margin yellow: sternal callosities not developed.

A single specimen has been found by M. Mouhot in Cambodia, which is now in the British Museum. (Described by Dr. J. E. Gray, Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, p. 41, pl. 5.)

_b._ LIZARDS.

1. _Draco tæniopterus._

Tympanum not scaly: nostrils above the face-ridge directed upwards: a low longitudinal fold on the neck: scales on the back of equal size, obscurely keeled: gular sac covered with large smooth scales, uniformly coloured: wings dark-greenish olive, with five arched black bands, not extending to the margin of the wing, some being forked at the base. (Günth., Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, April 23, and Ind. Rept., p. 126, pl. 13, fig. E.)

2. _Acanthosaura coronata._

The upper orbital edge serrated, without elongate spine posteriorly; a short spine on each side of the neck; a yellowish-olive band edged with black across the crown, from one orbital edge to the other; an oblique, short, yellowish band, broadly edged with brown, from below the orbit to the angle of the mouth.

This and the following species belong to the genus _Acanthosaura_, as defined by Gray (Catal. Liz. p. 240). The tympanum is distinct; a short spine between it and the dorsal crest, which is rather low; no femoral or præanal pores: a short spine behind the orbital edge, and separated from it by a deep notch: back and sides covered with small smooth scales, slightly turned towards the dorsal line, and intermixed with scattered larger ones which are keeled: belly and legs with larger keeled scales: tail slightly compressed at the base, the rest being round, and without crest; all its scales are keeled; those on the lower side being oblong, and provided with more prominent keels: throat without cross-fold, and without distinct longitudinal pouch: a slight oblique fold before the shoulder. (Günth., Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, April 23, and Ind. Rept., p. 149, pl. 14, fig. E.)

3. _Acanthosaura capra._

The upper orbital edge not serrated, terminating posteriorly in a long moveable horn: no spine above the tympanum or on the side of the neck: nuchal crest high, not continuous with the dorsal crest, which is rather elevated anteriorly: crown and cheek without markings.

The tympanum is distinct: no femoral or præanal pores: back and sides covered with small smooth scales, which become gradually larger and more distinctly keeled towards the belly: no large scales intermixed with the small ones; only a few appear to be a little larger than the rest: tail slightly compressed at the base, surrounded by rings of oblong, keeled scales: throat expansible; a very slight fold before the shoulder. (Günth., Ind. Rept., p. 148, pl. 14, fig. F.)

4. _Physignathus mentager._

Dorsal crest not interrupted above the shoulder; interrupted above the hip: caudal crest as high as that on the back: no large scales on the side of the neck: sides of the throat with large convex or tubercular scales.

A high crest, composed of sabre-shaped shields, extends from the nape of the neck to the second fifth of the length of the tail, being interrupted above the hip: scales on the back and the sides of equal size, very small, with an obscure keel obliquely directed upwards; those on the belly smooth, on the lower side of the tail rather elongate; strongly keeled: tympanum distinct: throat with a cross-fold: orbital edges and sides of the neck without spines: tail transversely banded with black.

One stuffed specimen is 30 inches long, the tail taking 21. (Günth., Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, April 23, and Ind. Rept., p. 153, pl. 15.)

5. _Tropidophorus microlepis._

Snout rather narrow and produced: scales on the back strongly keeled, the keels not terminating in elevated spines: back of the tail with two series of moderately elevated spines, the series not being continuous with those on the back of the trunk: scales of the throat smooth, or very indistinctly keeled: tail with a series of plates below, which are much larger and broader than the scales of the belly: three large præanal scales: a single anterior frontal shield (internasal). (Günth., Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, April 23, and Ind. Rept., p. 76, pl. 10, fig. A.)

_c._ SNAKES.

_Simotes tæniatus._

Scales in nineteen rows. Brownish-olive, with a brown longitudinal dorsal band enclosing an olive-coloured line running along the vertebral series of scales; another brownish band along the side of the body; belly whitish, chequered with black.

One loreal shield, one anterior and two posterior oculars; eight upper labials, the third, fourth, and fifth of which enter the orbit; 155 ventral plates; anal entire; 44 pairs of subcaudals. Head with the markings characteristic of the genus: each half of the dorsal band occupies one series of scales and two halves; the lateral band runs along the fourth outer series, touching the third and fifth. (Günth., Proc. Zool. Soc., 1861, April 23, and Ind. Rept., p. 216, pl. 20, fig. A.)

_d._ NEWTS.

_Plethodon persimilis._

Black, white-speckled, the specks closer and more abundant on the sides; the hind-toes elongate, unequal. Tail compressed.

This is the first species of Newts which has been discovered in Continental India; it is exceedingly like the _Pl. glutinosus_ from North America, but the hind toes are rather longer and more slender. (Gray, Proc. Zool. Soc., 1859, p. 230, c. tab.)

LIST OF THE NEW SPECIES OF FRESH-WATER FISHES DISCOVERED BY THE LATE M. MOUHOT IN SIAM AND CAMBODIA.

BY DR. ALBERT GÜNTHER.

1. _Toxotes microlepis._

D. 5/13. A. 3/17. L. lat. 42. L. transv. 6/14.

FRESH-WATER FISHES.

In the general habit and in all the generic characters the present species completely agrees with _T. jaculator_; the snout, however, is much shorter, its length being scarcely more than the diameter of the eye, and considerably less than the width between the orbits. The diameter of the eye is one-fourth of the length of the head. The length of the base of the anal equals exactly that of the dorsal. One of the largest scales covers two-thirds of the eye.

The colour may prove to be subject to as much variation as in the other species. The specimens described are yellowish, with greenish back and yellowish caudal. There is a series of four black blotches on each side: the anterior is the smallest, and situated on the upper extremity of the præoperculum; the third is the largest, and placed opposite the dorsal spines; a narrow blackish band round the base of the caudal; a round black spot on the posterior angle of the dorsal; the anal and the ventrals are black.

(Günth., Fishes, ii. p. 68.)

2. _Eleotris siamensis._

D. 6 | 10. A. 9. L. lat. 90.

Twenty-two longitudinal series of scales between the origin of the posterior dorsal and the anal, forty transverse ones between the anterior dorsal and the snout. The height of the body is contained six times and two-thirds in the total length, the length of the head four times. Head broad, depressed, with the snout obtuse; the lower jaw is prominent, and the maxillary extends to behind the vertical from the centre of the eye. Teeth in villiform bands. The diameter of the eye is one-seventh of the length of the head, one-half of that of the snout, and of the width of the interorbital space. A small barbel on each side of the upper jaw; the head is covered with small scales; there are about ten between the posterior angle of the orbits; the snout is naked. Dorsal and anal fins much lower than the body: one-half of the caudal is covered with thin scales; its length is contained five times and a half in the total. Brown: the lower parts whitish, minutely punctulated with brown: two oblique dark stripes on the cheek, radiating from the eye. Dorsal fins variegated with blackish, the other fins uniform blackish; a black ocellus, edged with whitish, on the upper part of the root of the caudal fin.

Lines. Total length 60 Height of the body 9 Length of the head 15 Diameter of the eye 2 Length of the caudal fin 11

(Günth., Fish., iii. p. 129.)

3. _Osphromenus siamensis._

D. 7/8. A. 11/33-12/35. L. lat. 42. L. transv. 12/16.

When we take the origin of the dorsal fin as the highest point of the upper profile, and the base of the last anal spine as the lowest of the abdomen, the depth between these two points is one-half of the total length (the caudal not included). The length of the head is three times and two-thirds in the same length. The snout is broader than long, equal to the diameter of the eye, which is one-fourth of the length of the head. The interorbital space is convex, wider than the orbit. Mouth very small, rather protractile; præorbital, with its extremity truncated and serrated: angle of the præoperculum serrated; there are two or three series of scales between the eye and the angle of the præoperculum. The dorsal fin commences nearer to the root of the caudal than to the end of the snout; it has six strong spines, which increase in length posteriorly, the last being longer than one-half the length of the head. Caudal emarginate; the anal is nearly entirely scaly, and terminates immediately before the caudal. The longest ventral ray extends beyond the extremity of the caudal, and has three or four rudimentary rays in its axil.

The colour is greenish on the back, silvery on the sides and on the belly. A black spot on the middle of the body in the vertical from the origin of the dorsal, below the lateral line; a second on the middle of the root of the caudal. The soft dorsal and caudal with brown dots; anal yellowish, with lighter spots, and sometimes with brownish dots.

This description is taken from specimens which are from three to four inches long.

(Günth., Fishes, iii. p. 385.)

4. _Osphromenus microlepis._

D. 3/10. A. 10/39. L. lat. 60. L. transv. 12/22.

The height of the body is one-half of the total length (without caudal), the length of the head two-sevenths; the profile of the nape is convex, that of the head rather concave. The snout is somewhat depressed, broader than long, with the lower jaw prominent; the interorbital space is convex, nearly twice as wide as the orbit, the diameter of which is one-fifth of the length of the head, and less than that of the snout. Præorbital triangular, with the lower margin serrated; there are five series of scales between the orbit and the angle of the præoperculum. The entire lower margin of the præoperculum and a part of the sub- and inter-operculum are serrated. The dorsal fin commences on the middle of the distance between the snout and the root of the caudal; its spines are moderately strong, the length of the third being more than one-half of that of the head. Caudal emarginate; more than one-half of the anal fin is scaly; it terminates immediately before the caudal. The longest ventral ray extends beyond the extremity of the caudal, and has three rudimentary rays in its axil. Immaculate: back greenish, sides and belly silvery; the soft dorsal and caudal with brownish dots.

Total length six inches.

(Günth., Fishes, iii., p. 385.)

5. _Catopra siamensis._

D. 13/15. A. 3/9. L. lat. 27. L. transv. 5-1/2/13.

The height of the body is contained twice and a third in the total length, the length of the head thrice and a third; head as high as long. Snout rather shorter than the eye, the diameter of which is one-fourth of the length of the head, and equal to the width of the interorbital space. The lower jaw is scarcely longer than the upper, and the maxillary extends slightly beyond the anterior margin of the orbit. Two nostrils remote from each other, both very small. Præorbital and angle of the præoperculum slightly serrated; opercles, throat, and isthmus, entirely scaly. The dorsal fin commences above the end of the operculum, and terminates close by the caudal; its spines are very strong, and can be received in a groove; the fifth, sixth, and seventh are the longest, not quite half as long as the head; the last spine is shorter than the penultimate; the soft dorsal is elevated and scaly at the base. The second anal spine is exceedingly strong, rather stronger and longer than the third, and not quite half as long as the head; the soft anal is similar to the soft dorsal. Caudal fin rounded, slightly produced, one-fourth of the total length; its basal half is scaly. Pectoral rather narrow, as long as the head without snout. The ventral is inserted immediately behind the base of the pectoral; it has a strong spine, and extends to the vent.

Scales minutely ciliated: the upper part of the lateral line terminates below the last dorsal rays, the lower commences above the third anal spine.

Gill-membranes united below the throat, not attached to the isthmus, scaly. Four gills, a slit behind the fourth; pseudobranchiæ none.

The jaws, vomer, palatines, and upper and lower pharyngeals are armed with bands of small villiform teeth. Very remarkable are two large, ovate, dentigerous plates, one at the roof, the other at the bottom of the mouth, in front of the pharyngeals; these plates are slightly concave in the middle, pavimentated with molar-like teeth, and have evidently the same function as the pharyngeal dentigerous plates of the true Pharyngognathi.

Total length 52 lines.

(Günth., Proc. Zool. Soc., 1862, June 24.)

6. _Ophiocephalus siamensis._

D. 42. A. 27. L. lat. 65. L. transv. 5/11.

Large teeth in the lower jaw, on the vomer and the palatine bones. The height of the body is contained six times and four-fifths in the total length; the length of the head three times and two-fifths; the length of the caudal six times. The width of the interorbital space is more than the extent of the snout, and two-ninths of the length of the head. Cleft of the mouth wide the maxillary not extending to the vertical from the posterior margin of the eye (in old specimens it probably reaches to below that margin). There are eleven series of scales between the eye and the angle of the præoperculum; scales on the upper surface of the head of moderate size. The pectoral extends to the origin of the anal fin, and its length is less than one-half of that of the head: the ventral is not much shorter than the pectoral; greenish-olive, with darker streaks along the series of scales; a light longitudinal band from the eye to the middle of the caudal fin; two series of alternate darker blotches, one above the light band, the other below; side of the head with three oblique brown bands; dorsal and anal fins with oblique blackish stripes; caudal with blackish spots: the lower side of the head blackish, with white spots. (Günth., Fishes, iii., p. 476.)

7. _Mastacembelus argus._

D. 32/60. A. 3/56.

Præoperculum with two or three spines. The maxillary does not extend to the vertical from the anterior margin of the eye. Vertical fins continuous: brownish-black, with white bands and round white spots: a band from the occiput, along the middle of the back, passing into the white margin of the vertical fins: a second band above the eye, interrupted and lost on the side of the back: a third from the angle of the mouth, passing into a series of spots, which is continued to the caudal: another series of spots along the side of the belly; the soft dorsal with a series of six spots: pectoral black at the base and near the margin. (Günth., Fishes, iii. p. 542.)

8. _Cynoglossus xiphoideus._

D. 120. A. 98. V. 4. L. lat. 135.

Three lateral lines on the left side, the upper and lower separated from the middle by twenty or twenty-one longitudinal series of scales: a single line on the right side. Two nostrils: one between the posterior parts of the eyes, the other in front of the lower eye. Eyes separated by a concave space, the width of which is more than that of the orbit; the upper eye considerably in advance of the lower: lips not fringed. The length of the snout is contained twice and a third in that of the head, the angle of the mouth being behind the vertical from the posterior margin of the eye, and nearer to the gill-opening than to the end of the snout. The rostral hook terminates below the front margin of the eye. The height of the body is contained four times and two-thirds in the total length, the length of the head five times and a half. The height of the dorsal and anal fins is two-sevenths of that of the body. Uniform brownish-grey. (Günth., Fish., iv. p. 495.)

ON AN APPARENTLY UNDESCRIBED SPIDER FROM COCHIN CHINA.

BY DR. ALBERT GÜNTHER.

_Cyphagogus Mouhotii._

UNDESCRIBED SPIDER.

Cephalothorax subovate, covered with fine, short, dense hairs, with a transverse groove between cephalic and thoracic portion, and with a deep impression in the middle of the upper surface of the latter.

Eyes eight, unequal in size, disposed thus ·.::.·; the four middle occupy a slight protuberance in front of the cephalothorax, whilst the lateral are the smallest, and situated on the side of its anterior part.

Falces articulated vertically, rather compressed, with a non-denticulated claw of moderate size at their extremity; the claw is received in a sheath at the lower end of the falces, the edges of the sheath being provided with some horny spines of unequal size. Maxillæ flat; the outer margins of both together form a card-like figure; their lower extremity is hairy; sternal lip between the maxillæ, elongate elliptical. Sternum ovate, covered with rather coarse hairs. Palpi of moderate length: the terminal joint is rather longer than the two preceding together, and armed with a minute non-pectinated claw.

Legs rather robust, tapering, very unequal in length, the two anterior being nearly equally long, but much longer than the two posterior: the fourth is longer than the third: each is armed with a pair of minute claws.

Abdomen club-shaped, anteriorly produced into a very long, thin, cylindrical process, which is twice bent, so that its basal half is leaning backwards on the back of the abdomen, whilst its terminal half is directed upwards and forwards, terminating in a slight cuneiform swelling: this singular appendage is covered with a leathery, fine hairy skin, like the lower parts of the abdomen. The cephalothorax being united with the abdomen at no great distance from the spinners, the anterior portion of the abdomen, with its appendage, is situated vertically above the thorax. The abdomen is nearly smooth above, and covered with very fine hairs below; it terminates in an obtuse point directed upwards.

Six spinners in a quadrangular group immediately before the vent: the anterior and posterior pair are of moderate size: the third pair is very short, and situated between the posterior spinners.

Two branchial opercula: tracheal opercula absent.

_Dimensions._

Lines. Length of cephalothorax 4 „ abdomen to the first bend of the appendage 12 „ appendage from its first bend 10 „ falces 1-1/3 „ palpus 4-1/3 „ terminal joint of palpus 1-2/3 „ first leg 16 „ second leg 16- /3 „ third leg 9 „ fourth leg 10-1/2

Colour brownish yellow: extremities of the legs and of abdominal appendage and sternum blackish brown: upper parts of the abdomen yellow: two black bands round the femur of the first leg.

A single female specimen of this spider was obtained by the late M. Mouhot in the Lao Mountains of Cochin China. Its form is so extraordinary that we have not hesitated to refer it to a new genus, _Cyphagogus_.

DESCRIPTION BY M. LE COMTE DE CASTELNAU OF A NEW AND GIGANTIC CARABIDEOUS INSECT DISCOVERED BY M. MOUHOT IN LAOS.

(Communicated by the Count to the ‘Revue et Magasin de Zoologie.’ 1862. No. 8. Paris.)

GIGANTIC CARABUS.

Among the magnificent insects that M. Mouhot collected during the few months of his stay in Laos, the first place is claimed by the beautiful Carabus which forms the subject of this paper, and which I have named _Mouhotia gloriosa_ after my unfortunate countryman.

This splendid insect is black, with a large border of flame-colour at the sides of the thorax and of the elytra; this is covered with longitudinal striæ, formed by a double row of punctures. The thorax is hollowed behind, smooth on the top, with the lateral border a brilliant coppery-red; it presents a small longitudinal stria in the middle of its disk, and the anterior angles are very prominent.

It much resembles Pasimachus and Emydopterus, but is distinguished from them; firstly, by the maxillary palpi, of which the last joint is broad, flat, angular on the inner side, and rounded at the end, this joint being a little longer than the one before it; secondly, by the labrum, which is wide, short, and indented on the exterior side; and thirdly, by the labial palpi, which have their last joint in the same form as the maxillary, but longer and hatchet-shaped. The mandibles are very strong, moderately arched, striated transversely, and with a strong tooth on the inner side; the jaws are also striated and obtuse at the ends. The head is similar to that of Pasimachus, the thorax is heart-shaped, the elytra oval, with angles towards the joints not strongly marked, convex, and a little serrated behind; the claws are powerful, with a strong tooth on the outer side of the middle of the tibiæ of the centre pair.

This insect is one of the most magnificent Carabidæ known, and is nearly two inches in length. The collection in the British Museum contains a fine specimen of it.

DESCRIPTIONS OF TWO NEW SPECIES OF LAND-SHELLS DISCOVERED BY M. MOUHOT IN THE INTERIOR OF CAMBODIA.

_Helix cambojiensis._

LAND-SHELLS.

Shell sinistral, deeply umbilicated, conoidly globose, rather inflated; upper portion of the whorls of a rich-toned transparent chestnut colour, edged at the satural margin with purple black; lower portion of the whorls white, turning to a delicate straw-colour by the overlying of a shining, transparent, horny epidermis, encircled below the periphery and around the umbilicus with two very decided, broad, rich purple black bands; whorls six, corrugately puckered throughout at the satural margin, the first four whorls very densely granosely wrinkle-striated in the direction of the lines of growth, the striæ gradually disappearing on the fifth whorl; aperture lunar-orbicular; lips simple, reflected partly round the umbilicus.

Out of two thousand species of _Helix_ at present known, the only one of the same type as _H. Mouhoti_ is the large _H. Brookei_, collected by Mr. Arthur Adams, in company with Sir Edward Belcher, on the mountains of Borneo, during the voyage of the ‘Samarang,’ and described by Mr. Arthur Adams in the ‘Zoology’ of that expedition. _H. Mouhoti_, of which Mr. Stevens has received a few specimens in various stages of growth, is even larger and more inflated than _H. Brookei_. In adult specimens the last whorl measures 6-1/2 inches in circumference, 3 inches in diameter, and the shell is about 2 inches high. It differs from _H. Brookei_ in being conspicuously, but not broadly, umbilicated, and in the mature lip not being in the least degree reflected at the margin. The lip itself (not the margin) is reflected at its junction with the body-whorl, partly round the umbilicus, as in the _Nanina_ form of the genus. But the most striking feature of the species is the colouring. In _H. Brookei_ the lower half of the whorls is of a uniform dark chestnut-colour; in _H. Mouhoti_ it is pure white, turned to a bright straw colour by the overlying of a shining horny epidermis, encircled immediately below the periphery by a broad, rich, purple-black band, somewhat like the bands of the large Philippine _Bulimus Reevei_, but even broader and more defined on the white ground. The region of the umbilicus is also deeply and as definitely stained with the same purple-black colour. As in _H. Brookei_, all the specimens of _H. Mouhoti_ are sinistral, or what is more commonly called reversed.

_Bulimus cambojiensis._

This shell is either sinistral or dextral, cylindrically ovate, thick, stout and pupoid in the spire, bluish-white, tinged with a watery fawn-colour, and clouded throughout with oblique zigzag flames of the same colour, darker, but very undefined and washy; whorls seven, smooth, rather bulbous, faintly impressed concavely below the suture; aperture ovate, of rather moderate dimensions, overlaid in a very conspicuous manner across the body-whorl, and over a very thickly reflected lip, with a callous, opaque, milk-white deposit, which in the interior is stained with a beautifully iridescent violet-rose. This fine species, of which Mr. Stevens has received several specimens, measuring nearly 3 inches in length by 1-1/2 inch in width, is a most characteristic example of a type of the Malayan province of the genus, represented by the old _Bulimus citrinus_ of Brugnière; and it has been named after its well-authenticated place of habitation, because the species is, in all probability, confined to that locality. The islands adjacent to Cambodia have been pretty well ransacked; and we have nothing like it in species either from them or from the contiguous mainland of Siam on the west, or Cochin China on the east. This particular type of the genus appears, however, abundantly at the Moluccas, in _B. citrinus_; and at Mindanao, the southernmost of the Philippine Islands, in _B. maculiferus_. Like these two species, _B. cambojiensis_ occurs with the shell convoluted either to the right or to the left. The shell is both larger and stouter than that of _B. citrinus_, differently painted, and especially characterized by its mouth of iridescent violet-rose, or what is now fashionably termed “Solferino” colour.

These descriptions are from the pen of Lovell Reeve, Esq., F.L.S., &c., and were communicated by him to ‘The Annals and Magazine of Natural History.’ See vol. vi. p. 203.

The annexed plate contains representations of several other new and interesting species of land shells discovered by M. Mouhot, and named by Dr. Pfeiffer, but which have yet to be described.

ATMOSPHERICAL OBSERVATIONS.

ATMOSPHERICAL OBSERVATIONS.

_January._--The month of January at Bangkok is generally the coolest in the whole year. The thermometer generally ranges from 58° to 60° Fahr. in the morning. The wind is sometimes N. or N.E., and at others S.S.W. or S. The rainy season ends in the latter part of October; the water has fallen in the rivers, which have not overflowed since the middle of December; therefore at this time of the year one can walk along the banks, which are pleasant. The paths are visible and in a good state for travellers, and there is less danger, even in the interior of the country, of being attacked by jungle fever. There is often fog in the morning, but yet it is not unhealthy. The weather has been fine all the month, excepting one or two rainy days towards the middle.

_February._--During this month the wind frequently blows from the N.E. or E., though sometimes from S.S.W. The weather is fresh, agreeable, and healthy. It is the month which the Buddhist pilgrims choose to visit Phrabat, where they imagine they can trace the prints of Buddha’s feet. It is the best time for crossing the jungles and the plains, for the banks are all raised high above the water and the earth is perfectly dry. If the wind blows from the S. for a few days, as it sometimes does, the heat becomes overwhelming for the time. There are also occasionally, as in January, two or three rainy days towards the middle of the month.

_March._--This month is hotter and drier than the two preceding ones; there is less freshness. The wind blows generally from the E.N.E., S., or S.S.W., and often with great violence during the day: the Siamese call it Som Won (wind of the shuttlecock), of which game they are very fond, and one hears everywhere their noise mingled with cries of admiration from the people. Violent storms, accompanied by rain and thunder, generally mark the equinox; after that the weather becomes hot and dry. The thermometer sometimes rises as high as 93 in the middle of the day, but the nights are still pleasant.

_April._--April is the hottest month of the year. The first part is generally dry, with E. or S. winds, but changes about the middle to N.E. and S.W. In the latter part of the month the excessive heat is tempered by some refreshing rains. Although the sun is very powerful during the day, the nights at Bangkok are cool. This month is not so healthy for Europeans as the three which precede it, and dysentery makes great ravages.

_May._--This month is considered one of the most rainy of the year, though sometimes July and September are more so. The rain rarely lasts all day, and there are sometimes intervals of two or three fine days. In this month the people prepare their ground and sow their rice.

_June._--During the whole of this month the wind blows constantly either from the S., W., or S.W. The jungles at this season are fatal to travellers, especially to Europeans, who would do wisely to avoid them and to pass this the rainy season at Bangkok, which is one of the healthiest of the tropical towns.

_July._--In July sweet and refreshing breezes blow from the W. and S., but more rain falls than in June. There are sometimes very hot days, when the thermometer rises very high, but still in Siam this month is considered tolerably healthy.

_August._--The same as July.

_September._--This is a month of almost incessant rain, and it is very rare to have two or three consecutive fine days.

_October._--Everything is inundated, some of the streets of Bangkok are transformed into canals, and the rivers everywhere overflow their banks. The first part of this month is as rainy as the preceding one.

_November._--The Siamese now complain of the cold, but the Europeans rejoice in it, for the N.E. wind begins to blow. There are still some rainy days at the beginning of the month, and some hot ones. These transitions of temperature give rise to colds and catarrhs. At the end of the month the wind changes to the S.W.

_December._--This is the best month to commence travelling on the rivers. Occasionally there is thunder and rain, but altogether it is considered a healthy month.

METEOROLOGICAL REGISTER.

METEOROLOGICAL REGISTER kept during the month of October 1861, and up to the sixth day after M. MOUHOT was attacked by fever.

Louang Prabang (Laos).

------+------------+--------+------------+--------+------------+-------- Dates.|Fahr. 8 A.M.|Reaumur.|Fahr. 3 P.M.|Reaumur.|Fahr. 8 P.M.|Reaumur. ------+------------+--------+------------+--------+------------+-------- 1 | 73 | 18 | 84 | .. | 80 | .. 2 | 72 | .. | 85 | .. | 78 | .. 3 | 73 | 18 | 81 | 22-1/3 | 76 | 20 4 | 75 | .. | 80 | 22 | 75-1/4 | 20 5 | 73 | 18 | 81 | 24-3/4 | 75-1/4 | 20-1/4 6 | 75-1/2 | 20 | 79 | 20 | 75 | 20 7 | 73 | 19 | 77 | 20-1/2 | 74 | .. 8 | 72 | 18-1/2 | 83 | 23-1/4 | 72-1/4 | 18-1/2 9 | 73 | 19 | 79 | 20 | 74 | 19 10 | 74 | 19-1/2 | 83 | 23 | 74 | 19 11 | 72 | 18 | 83-1/2 | 23-1/4 | 74 | 19 12 | 72 | 18-1/4 | 79-1/2 | 21-1/2 | 72 | 18 13 | 70 | 15-1/2 | 78 | 21 | 70 | 17-1/2 14 | 63 | 14-1/2 | 79 | 21-1/2 | 65 | 15 15 | 60 | 13 | 72 | 18 | 60 | 15 16 | 60 | 13 | 83-1/2 | 23-1/2 | 70 | 17 17 | 64 | 14-1/2 | 83-1/2 | 22 | 70 | 15 18 | 64 | 14-1/2 | 86 | 23-1/2 | 70 | 18 19 | 69 | 17 | 85 | 24 | 71-1/2 | 17-1/2 20 | 70 | 15-1/2 | 89 | 25 | 74 | 19-1/2 21 | 73 | 19 | 90 | 26 | 74 | 19 22 | 71 | 18 | 86 | 23-1/2 | 71 | 18 23 | 73 | 19 | 87 | 25 | 70 | 18 24 | 68 | 16-1/2 | 88 | 25 | .. | .. ------+------------+--------+------------+--------+------------+--------

TALE.

TRANSLATED FROM THE CHINESE BY M. HENRI MOUHOT.

CHINESE TALES.

In a Chinese village lived two cousins, both orphans: the eldest, who was called Moû, was cunning and egotistical; the other, on the contrary, was goodness and simplicity itself; he was called A-lo-Sine. The time for ploughing the fields arrived: A-lo-Sine possessed a buffalo, while Moû had only a dog. An idea struck him, and he went to his cousin and said, “I bring you my dog; give me your buffalo: my dog will plough your field, which is not very large, and you will see that you will have very fine rice.”

A-lo-Sine consented, and worked so well with the dog that his rice was first-rate, while the field ploughed by the buffalo produced hardly anything.

Moû, then, full of spite, went by night into his cousin’s field, and set fire to it: A-lo-Sine saw the flames, and, unable to repress his despair, uttered piercing cries, and rolled in the field.

Some apes, who were marauding in a neighbouring field, witnessed this spectacle, and said to each other, “That must be a god, since the fire does not hurt him.” They accordingly drew near him, took him by the feet and arms, and carried him to the top of a mountain, where they laid him down, plunged in a deep sleep. The monkeys then piled up rice and delicious fruits, and bowls of gold and silver of extraordinary beauty and value, and then left him to return to the fields.

At last he awoke, and thought no more of his misfortune, seeing around him so many treasures: he gathered them all up, and returned to his hut, full of joy.

Moû, seeing him so happy, followed him, and, at the sight of the gold, “Heavens!” cried he; “my cousin as rich as a prince: give me something.”

“No,” replied A-lo-Sine, “I will not; for you are wicked, and you set fire to my field.”

Moû then went to his own field, and set fire to that also, and imitated all that his cousin had done: he wept, cried, and, like him, threw himself into the flames. Five monkeys, one of them a young one, who were feasting close by, drew near him, curious to see what he was about. “He is a god,” said they, also; “the flames have spared him. Let us carry him away.” No sooner said than done. Each monkey seized one an arm, the other a leg, and they set off.

They reached a neighbouring wood; but there the little monkey began to cry out, “I want to help to carry him also.” “But there is nothing of him to hold by,” said the mother. The little monkey, however, continued to cry, and at last seized Moû’s long tress of hair, and put himself at the head of the procession.

But this hurt Moû, and he tried to disengage his hair. The young monkey began to cry again. “Ah, you are angry; stay there, then,” said all the others, and they threw him into a prickly bush.

Moû had great trouble in extricating himself from his disagreeable position; and it was nearly evening when he reached home, all covered with blood.

“Well, cousin, have you also some gold and silver?” said A-lo-Sine, on seeing him. “Ah! I am thoroughly punished for the harm I did you,” replied Moû. “I bring back nothing but needles: call the women to take them out of me.”

TALE.

TRANSLATED FROM THE CHINESE BY M. HENRI MOUHOT.

There lived formerly in a Chinese village an old couple who had no children; and one day the husband put himself in a violent passion with his wife for never having had any, and even beat her. The poor old woman rushed out of the house, crying, and ran a long way. A priest of Buddha met her accidentally, and asked her what had happened to her. “My husband was angry to-day, and beat me, because we had no children,” replied she. “Listen,” said the priest; “I will make you happy! Dig in this earth and knead it” (it was clay). The woman obeyed, and the priest then sat down, and with his fingers moulded nine little figures. “The first,” said he, “will have long ears and very quick hearing; the second, a piercing sight; the third, a skin so hard that he will not feel any blow; the fourth will stand fire without hurt; the fifth will have an enormous head, as hard as iron; the sixth, legs long enough to cross the deepest stream; the seventh, feet as large as those of an elephant, for walking in mire; the eighth, an immense stomach; and the ninth, a nose as long as a pipe, from which jets of water will issue at command. Now,” continued the priest, “go home, and every year eat one of these children.” The old woman bowed several times, professing her gratitude and happiness; then she returned home; but in her joy, instead of contenting herself with one child, she eat up all nine at once. Her stomach, which had begun to swell at once, grew every month bigger and bigger, and became frightful. The husband was beside himself with joy, and was very kind to his wife.

At last the day of delivery arrived: the father received the first child, and ran to wash him in the stream; but there came a second. “Another!” cried the father, and ran again to the river. Returning, he found a third, then a fourth. He opened his eyes and cried, “Really this is quite enough: what can we give them to eat?” But the whole nine made their appearance on the same day.

All were prodigies: they grew rapidly; never cried; eat enormously, and began to run about in two months. But the old man did not know what to call them all; and one day he complained to his wife that he could not distinguish them one from another, got in another passion, and struck her again. The old woman ran away, crying, again, and went to find the priest who had helped her before. “Why do you cry now?” said he. “My husband has so many children now that he does not know what names to give them.” “You are very foolish,” replied he, “not to be able to distinguish them by the gifts they possess. Call one ‘Quick-ear,’ another ‘Hard-head,’ and so on for the others.”

The old man had calmed down when his wife returned; but debts accumulated as the children grew up. At last they became strong and fearless.

One day a creditor came and asked for money. “I have none,” replied the old man. He persisted in this reply, and at last turned the creditor out of the house. A few days after, this man collected several of his friends, and went again to the old man, declaring he would seize one of the children, and whip him. “Quick-ear” had heard all, and “Piercing-eye” had mounted to the top of a tree and seen all that was going on. They decided that “Hard-skin” would be the best to go, and the creditor succeeded in binding him and taking him away. But every cane broke on his back, without hurting him: at last they took an immense cudgel, but this broke in the same way; and seeing that it was lost time to beat him, they let him go home.

But a few days after, the creditor came back, determined to kill one of the children with boiling water. “Quick-ear” heard the project, and “Invulnerable” was left at home, and consequently carried off. They threw him into a boiler full of water; and in about an hour, when they opened it, the child raised his head. “What, not yet dead!” cried the creditor, in a fury, and he made up a larger fire, but “Invulnerable” was still alive. They made it still hotter, but the next day their wood was exhausted, and they let him go free, saying that Buddha protected him. “This is very sad,” said the creditor; “I cannot get my money; I cannot get my money: I will write a letter to Heaven, to beg that fire may be sent down to burn the house of my debtor.” He did so accordingly; but “Quick-ear,” who heard the plot, warned “Fountain-nose,” who thereupon took care to water the roof. The thunderbolt fell, but glided from the roof to the ground. All the children joined their strength, and lifted it, chained it up, and placed it in the house.

“Is it possible,” cried the creditor, “that they are not all dead? I must throw one of them into the sea.” This time it was “Stilt-bird’s” turn. The boat in which they placed him had not gone far from the shore when a storm arose and upset it, and all the men were drowned, with the exception of “Stilt-bird,” who escaped, thanks to his long legs. However, his brothers feared for him, and sent “Big-head” to the shore, where he found him fishing, and having already caught so many fish that he did not know where to put them. Luckily “Big-head” had his hat, which they filled, and returned home with an immense load. “Large-feet” went to cut wood to fry it with; but “Great-stomach” eat it all up before his brothers had hardly had time to begin. “Weeping-eyes” began to cry, and an inundation ensued, in which many of the neighbours perished.

Meanwhile, all the children were out searching for food, and the mother was left at home alone. She, seeing the thunderbolt chained in a corner, unfastened it. Immediately it rose in the air, then, falling again, struck the poor woman, and killed her.

FABLE.

TRANSLATED FROM THE CHINESE BY M. HENRI MOUHOT.

CHINESE FABLES.

Firmness and presence of mind often make heroes of cowards, and rescue them from great dangers, while rashness is generally fatal.

In the midst of a thick and virgin forest, where everything seemed to slumber, an elephant began to utter doleful howlings, and a tiger replied by others still more dreadful, which froze all the other animals with terror. Monkeys, stags, and all the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, ran groaning to seek refuge at the tops of the trees, or in the depth of the woods, or in their dens. The elephant himself ran with all his speed, when on his way he met a hare, who stopped him, and said, “Why do you run thus, without aim and without reason?” “What! did you not hear the frightful roaring of the tiger? Would you advise me to stay here and be devoured?” “Stay here, and have no fear; I will answer for it that no harm happens to you,” said the hare; “only sit down, that I may jump on your back.” The elephant goodnaturedly approached and extended his four legs; then the hare jumped up, having first put into his mouth a piece of betel.

“Now, get up again,” said he, “and you will see that all will go well.” He then proceeded to give the elephant further counsel, and afterwards let out along his back a long stream of saliva, reddened by betel. Soon the tiger came up. “What are you coming to seek here?” said the hare, as the tiger stopped to look at them. “Do you not see that this elephant is not too much for me alone; and do you think I will share with you?” The tiger drew aside, behind a tree, to watch what passed. The hare then seized hold of the elephant’s ear, made him roar, and seemed perfectly master of his prey, and busy at his work. “Heavens! how strong he is!” said the tiger; but still he drew near. “Wait a minute, and I will come to you,” cried the hare, looking as though preparing to spring, and the tiger, struck with terror, turned and ran away. A chimpanzee, seeing him running away in such terror, burst out laughing. “What! you laugh at my misfortune?” cried the tiger. “I have just escaped from death, and you do not pity me.” “How so? I should like to see the beast who frightened you; take me to him.”

“What! to be devoured? no.”

“Do not be afraid; I will get on your back, and will not leave you: we will fasten our tails together, if you like; and thus united we shall run no risk!” The tiger was persuaded by these words, and they both returned to the elephant. The hare seemed still busy at his work: he had chewed a new piece of betel, and had made another stream, red as blood, on the elephant’s back. “You dare to come back!” cried he, in an angry tone, to the tiger. “You knew I had only just enough here for myself, and yet you want to carry away my prey from me; you deserve to be punished.”

At these words the elephant uttered a piercing cry; the hare made an enormous bound on his back; and the tiger, struck with terror, rushed precipitately away at full speed, saying to the chimpanzee, “Now, you see; you laughed at my fears, and we both narrowly escaped death.” But the chimpanzee did not hear; for in the tiger’s precipitate retreat he had fallen off his back, struck himself against a bamboo, and died, cursing his rashness with his last sigh.

THE HARE AND THE SNAIL.

FABLE.

TRANSLATED FROM THE CHINESE BY M. HENRI MOUHOT.

Formerly, according to the Siamese, hares had thick ears; but a certain day one of these animals, having more legs than memory, met a snail dragging himself painfully along the ground, and in a moment of pride sought to humiliate him. “Why, little one, where are you going at this pace?” said he. “To the beautiful rice-fields of the next village.” “But, my poor fellow, you will be a long time reaching them. Why did not Nature furnish you with legs like mine? Confess you envy me. How long, now, do you think it would take me to get there?”

“Perhaps longer than it would take me, though you pity me so much,” replied the snail, coldly.

“You jest, do you not?”

“No.”

“Well, will you bet about it?”

“Willingly.”

“What will you bet?”

“Whatever you like.”

“Well, then, if you win you shall nibble my ears; for you cannot eat me; and if you lose I will eat you: will that suit you?”

“Perfectly.”

“Then set off; for I will give you a start.”

While the hare began to browse the snail set off at his slow pace, and went to his brother, who was a little way off, and to him he communicated a pass-word, which he in turn told to another, and so on along the whole line which the betters had to travel, so that it quickly reached the end.

Soon the hare, having satisfied his hunger, and feeling strong, set off, and flew over the ground, calling to the snail, whom he believed to be close by. “Ohé!” answered he, from a long way off. “Oh, he is already far on the way,” cried the hare, who set off again like an arrow. In a few minutes he stopped and called again: “Ohé,” answered a voice still farther on. “Really, he goes very quickly,” thought the hare, and he set off again. A quarter of an hour after, he stopped, quite out of breath. “Now,” said he, “I may rest; I must be far in advance; but I will call and see.” “Ohé! snail.” “Ohé!” replied a voice a long way on. “Oh! I must be quick; I shall lose my bet,” murmured the hare. He ran, and ran, and at last stopped, quite exhausted, only a few yards from the fields. “Snail,” cried he, faintly: “what! you are returning from the place? Unfortunate that I am, I have lost my bet;” and he made vain efforts to get up and escape, but, alas! his strength failed him, and the snail pitilessly gnawed his ears.

Since that day the hare always avoids damp places, for fear of meeting one of the creatures who punished him for his pride.

TALE.

TRANSLATED FROM THE CHINESE BY M. HENRI MOUHOT.

CHINESE TALE.

There lived formerly in a small town in China a singular couple, of a description still met with, for the Chinese progress very slowly. The husband was noted for his folly, and the wife for her cunning. “Always remember,” she used constantly to say to her husband when he went out, “that all people with long noses, in the form of an eagle’s beak, and bending downwards, are good-for-nothings, beggars, cheats, and, worse still, bad paymasters, coiners of false money, false-swearers, and will go to hell; while people with small turned-up noses are good, and will go straight to heaven. Therefore, that you may not lose, sell only to these last; for, I repeat to you, the others are bad.”

Every day the husband went out, and passed from street to street, examining the passers-by, but never addressing any but those who had their heads raised to look at something, so that he very seldom sold anything.

One day, when he was observing noses as usual, he saw a man reading a placard which was placed very high. “That man will go straight to heaven,” thought he; “his nose is so much turned up. Will you buy some clothes, good man?” said he. “Clothes! you see I have some.” “But you appear to me the most honest man I ever saw” (“I never saw such a nose,” he added to himself); “and I should like to sell you a whole suit; my wife makes them herself.” “Well, what is the price?” “Of my wife?” “No; of the clothes.” “Two kóóu” (about ten francs). “But why do you come into this retired place to sell your clothes, when there are so many people elsewhere?” “Oh! I went to those places; but all the people had long, bent, and eagle-shaped noses, you see! and I only sell to snub-nosed people.” “I do not understand you; why will you not sell to people with long noses?” “My wife, who is a very clever woman, told me that all people with long, eagle-shaped noses are knaves.” “Really, your wife is very sharp, and I understand you now. Well, my friend, I will buy your clothes; but as I have no money with me, I will pay you to-morrow. You have only to come to my house; I live near here. You will see a hurdle covered with eggs, a flag at the end of a mast, and a little plantation of betel.” “Very well; that will do.”

The merchant went home to his wife, and told her he had sold to a man with a snub nose. “Where is the money?” said she. “I have not got it yet, but I shall be sure to have it to-morrow. I am to go where I see a hurdle covered with eggs, a flag on a mast, and a little betel plantation.” The next day the wife said, “Go for your money.” He went, but could not find the house; and after long searching he came home again. “Have you the money?” said the wife. “No, I could not find the house.” “Well, I will go myself to look for it. If I am not back in an hour, you will know that I am drowned.” After an hour, as his wife did not return, the man took the sieve with which he usually sifted his rice, and set off to the river, which he began to try to empty with it. A passer-by asked him what he was doing. “I am emptying the river,” replied he; “for my wife is drowned, and she had on her best yellow bonnet.” “Nonsense!” said the other; “I just met her walking with a man who had a snub nose.”

THE DAMIER, OR CAPE PIGEON.

_Procellaria Capensis._

THE CAPE PIGEON.

During a long voyage, when for months you have seen nothing but water and sky, the smallest novelty which appears and promises variety for the eye and the mind, though only for a few minutes, is joyfully welcome. Sometimes it may be a stormy petrel, flying like a swallow, skimming through the air in a hundred different directions, and seeming to play in that element; sometimes a ring-tail, which, with its piercing cry like that of a hawk, appears a messenger from the sun to bid the bold navigator welcome to the tropics, hovers for a few minutes over the ship, and then flies off with a jerk and disappears.

Sometimes are to be seen numerous blowers, who pass and repass the ship with bounds; or perhaps a whale, which almost stupefies you with the noise he makes as he displaces the water in rising to the surface to breathe: at another time it is some hungry shark, who, following in the wake of the ship, lets himself be caught by the bait thrown out to him, and which, when hoisted with great difficulty on deck, lashes it with his tail and looks formidable even after death; and this is a good take for the sailors, who divide the spoil and feast on it.

But of all the creatures dear and familiar to sailors, none rejoices him more than the faithful companion who, more than 3000 miles before he doubles the Cape of Good Hope or Cape Horn, appears to his sight, swims in the water, grazes a thousand times the hull or the rigging, pleases his eye by its parti-coloured plumage, and announces to him calm and tempest.

This bird, called by the French “_Damier_,” by the English the _Cape Pigeon_, and “_Peintada_” by the Portuguese, is the Cape Petrel, or _Procellaria capensis_ of naturalists.

Gifted with great powers of flight, though less than other petrels, from morn till night, and often even a part of the latter when the moon is full, it is seen in the wake or alongside of the ship, describing in its flight, in which scarcely any movement is apparent, a thousand evolutions, sometimes touching the great waves which seem ready to overwhelm it, the moment after reappearing far above them, always wheeling about and careless of the storm.

The sight of this flight and of all these evolutions is most pleasing, and one involuntarily thinks of a graceful skater flying over the ice at his utmost speed, and seeking to attract admiration.

The whole life of this bird is perpetual movement, a constant chase after a scarce and insignificant prey. Unlike the swallow, who has his hours of pleasure and of amorous warbling, and nights of sleep in his warm nest, the Cape pigeon, pressed by hunger and by his ravenous appetite, only rests for a few minutes at a time at rare intervals during the day, in order to recruit his strength, and at night, rocked by the stormy wave, must find but little sleep.

Neither does the Cape pigeon know the delight of a peaceful retreat in a favourite spot sheltered by thick foliage or long reeds; and while most birds confine themselves to a limited district, where they are almost certain to be found at the same season, and to which they invariably return at the disappearance of the frosts which have chased them away for a time, this one, a sailor by nature, has for its domain an immense empire, namely the greatest part of the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans, and has to brave night and day, at one time an icy wind, and at another the rays of a burning sun.

But in a state of liberty nothing living is often unhappy, and the foreseeing Providence, who knows how to satisfy the wants of his creatures, also knows how to create joys for them, where we see nothing but trouble and misery. In like manner the industrious workman and the hardy traveller experience, perhaps, of all men the most lively joys; to them repose would be the greatest suffering.

Although inseparable companions of the sailor, it is not certainly for the pleasure of his society, nor for that afforded by the sight of the ship, that the petrels follow it, but for the certainty of finding in the scraps thrown overboard, as well as in the number of shells in the wake of the ship, food more abundant than he would discover elsewhere in the water. Nothing can equal their voracity but the quickness and vivacity with which they catch sight of the smallest prey and seize it even amidst a stormy sea. From a great distance, and long before the albatross, and the other descriptions of petrels which are often to be seen with the Cape pigeons, have remarked it, they see and pounce on it, and have generally swallowed it before the jealous rivals who follow them have been able to overtake them. The sense of smell does not here come in aid of that of sight, for they often pounce on a piece of wood or something of that description which falls from a vessel, and only abandon it when convinced by the touch that it is not fit for food. Their greediness is such that they will often let themselves be taken in dozens with hooks; no sooner are they on deck than they disgorge a thick liquid the colour of linseed oil.

When these birds rest on the sea and let themselves be tossed about by the waves, their appearance, dimensions, form, and colour of plumage strongly resemble our domestic pigeons, and hence the English seamen, struck with the similarity, have given them the name of Cape pigeons. Their size varies; the largest measuring more than 18 inches English from the beak to the tip of the tail, and rather more than a foot in circumference.

They are generally seen in great numbers only in stormy weather and in rather high latitudes. In the winter season--that is, during our June, July, and August--they follow the ships constantly between 23° S. lat. and 31° and 103° E. long.

Is it not a wonderful thing and worthy of admiration that the instinct with which this bold little navigator is endowed guides him safely through this vast space, where there is nothing to serve him as a landmark, enables him to rejoin his comrades if accidentally separated from them, and teaches him every year when the warm season returns to recognise and find the island or the solitary rock where he was born, and where in his turn he will bring up his young ones; while man, with his maps, his books, his nautical instruments, and in spite of all his long experience, has such difficulty in finding his way across the ocean? And yet we think that our intelligence raises us above the animals. This is what confounds and overwhelms the scholar when he seeks to fathom the great mysteries of creation.

THE ALBATROSS.

THE ALBATROSS

A wise and bountiful Providence has taken care to people the most distant and desert parts of the globe, whether covered with eternal snow or impenetrable forests. In the waters of the ocean are, as well as in our fields and woods, creatures which rejoice the eyes of man and provide for his wants. Of all these creatures none are more charming and pleasing than the birds; endowed either with melodious voices or brilliant plumage, or with some other charm or quality, such as vivacity, quickness and grace of movement, and power of flight; all have attractions for us; and even in our museums, in spite of their faded plumage and often altered forms, they are still objects of admiration, not only to the learned naturalist, but to men who care little for other beautiful sights.

But if leaving the cabinet we visit Nature herself, penetrate into the heart of the forests, climb the rocks, or visit the shores and the ocean, then our admiration grows stronger and more deep.

Of all birds there is none which exercises a greater influence over the mind of man, or causes greater astonishment, than the albatross, so celebrated by voyagers from the earliest times. The albatross! The word recalls to the navigator a thousand souvenirs; as the name of some bloody battle in which he has taken part, or of some general who has led him to victory, awakens those of the soldier. It recalls to the memory of the sailor the principal incidents of an existence passed between calm and tempest; he feels himself transported in thought to the time when the first albatross was signalled, and passengers and sailors turned their gaze eagerly towards the spot where, like a proud man of war, cradled by the rolling waves, advanced the powerful sailer against whom the storm rages in vain, and who, far from avoiding, seems to court it.

To this first souvenir succeed many others; there is the dead calm, which in the tropics has often detained his vessel inactive for weeks, as though chained under the burning sky, where the eye seeks in vain for a cloud, and the only sound that meets the ear is the heavy flapping of the sails against the masts as the ship rocks; a calm often more to be feared and more dangerous than the most terrible tempest, for it renders the crew inactive, impatient, and bad-tempered. But the first sight of the albatross indicates a coming change and wind to be expected. There is also the memory of painful and too sudden transitions from equatorial heat to the cold of high latitudes; that also of hours of dreadful anxiety when the storm broke out in all its violence, of the contest between winds and waves, and of the albatross hovering over the latter, as though chosen an umpire between these two formidable antagonists. The albatross inhabits the southern hemisphere of the Atlantic Ocean from the 25° or 26° of latitude, also both Pacifics, but is rarely seen farther north, and has never been known beyond the tropics; it is in the seas which bathe the three southern capes that they are seen in the greatest numbers.

It often happens, however, when the winter is mild and the weather fine, that very few are seen until you reach the 40°. They lay their eggs on some deserted southern shore; the female lays only one, and feeds her little one for nine months without leaving it, so much need has it of its mother’s help.

There is much difficulty in the classification of the palmipeds, which exhibit a great number of varieties.

The beak of the albatross is long and very strong; the upper jaw furrowed at the side and much curved; the lower one sharp, smooth, and truncated at the end; the nostrils, formed by two tubes opening outwards, are lateral and placed in a groove. The tarsi are short, but very thick, and ending in three front toes much palmated; the wings are long and narrow.

There are probably four distinct species of albatrosses.

1st. The wandering albatross, _Diomedea exulans_, which measures ten feet with the wings spread; it has a white head, the wings and belly being spotted with white, grey, and chestnut brown; the beak is the colour of horn. This species varies much in size, and still more in colour and plumage, which is more or less mixed with grey or brown, and sometimes even entirely white; this depends doubtless on the season, the sex, and the age.

2nd. The epauletted albatross, _Diomedea epomophera_, which is smaller than the common albatross. His head, neck, body, back, and rump are snowy white, while the feathers of his wings are perfectly black, with the exception of a large white lozenge-shaped spot on each; the beak is yellowish. Some naturalists believe these to be only the young of the ordinary kind.

3rd. The yellow-beaked albatross, _Diomedea chlororhyncos_. This species I have myself taken with a hook; his head, belly, and neck are brilliantly white, his back and the plumage of the wings a deep brown grey, the beak yellow, and the feet bluish grey; the rump is white, and as well as the underpart of the tail is bordered by a wide black line.

4th. The sooty albatross, _Diomedea spadicea_ of Forster, which is the size of the common albatross, and of a uniform deep chestnut-colour.

CAMBODIAN VOCABULARY.

A.

Abandon (to) Lẽng, chol. Abhor (to) Sââp. Approach (to) Dâl. Abstinence } Abstain (to) }Tam. Accept (to) Iotuol. Accompany (to) Iam. Accomplish (to) Ihúruéch hoì. Accustom oneself (to) Ihlap. Accuse (to) Shõdéng. Acid Ehu. Admire (to) Ehhugã̆l. Adore (to) Ihoui bãngeom. Adultery Bap phit propon Ki. Afflict (to) Lruey chot chaw chot. Age Acõ̆schhnam. Announce (to) Srăp, pram. Appease (to) On. Appetite Comléan Klileán. After Ẽcroí. Arid Sngnot, comynot. Arm Crùóng predăp. Army Iăp. Arrive (to) Dâl. Assembly Chumnam. Assemble (to) Chumnam Kenéa. Audacity } Audacious }Ihean. August Mahu. Also Dẽl. Altar Balang, as-prĕn. Agile Chuery. Air Acos. Add (to) Thêm. Aloes Jadam. Alum Saĕpchu. Amuse oneself (to) Ling. Ancient Chus. Ass Satliá. Angel Firĕuda. Angle Chrung. Animal Săt. Avarice Comnaut. Advocate Sma Kedey. Abortive (to be) Relutcõn. Arm Phlu. Aim Vong. Ashes Phe. Ask (to) Som. Above Lù ê lù. And Non. Awake (to) Dăs. Arrow Prúeup. Agreeable Totuol. Appearance Cŏmnăp. According to Tam. Always Ruéy (iún ruey reáp darăpton muc). Anger Conhong. Amongst Erang. Across Totùng. Already Hoi.

B.

Bitter Loving. Before Mum. Bathe (to) Ngut tin. Breath Dâng hina. Bold Tahéan. Broom Bombãs. Bamboo Resey. Banana Chá. Banquet Car si. Beard Puk mŏt. Boat Iui. Build (to) Sâhy, thú phtĕn. Beat (to) Véag. Beautiful Sââ. Benediction Prăe pór. Beast Sat. Blue Khín. Beef Cũ. Bushel Ihang-Iao. Box Hêp. Bottle Săr phdŏe. Button Leu. Branch Mie. Brick Ot. Break (to) Rei. Burn (to) Dot. Buffalo Crebey. Black Khnaun. Bone Cheóng. Bread Nam. Basket Conchir. Blade Lompeng. Book Sombot. Bed Domnéc. But Pê. Bad Bap, chomngú. Breast Dâ̆. Beg (to) Som teau. Better Cheang, lus. Bite (to) Kham. Be born (to) Cót. Bee Khmum. Bark (to) Sru. Buy (to) Iink. Business Domnor. Bow Ehme. Batatas Eomlong. Bridge Spreau. Behind Croi, ê croi. Back Hhnang. Be (to) Non-mêan, Chèn. Big Phom. Broil (to) Hang. Bird Sat liar. Blood Chheàm. Blow (to) Phlõm. Betray (to) Kebâ̆t. Bark Sombok. Brother (elder) Bâng. Brother (younger) Phŏôn.

C.

Come (to) Moc Dâ̆l. Cottage Catôm. Corpse Khmoch. Cage Irung. Case Hêp. Calk (to) Bàt. Calm oneself (to) On. Cambodia Sroch Khmêr. Cambodian Khmêr. Country Neal. Canal Preê. Comb Suét. Cask Thâng. Cardamom Crevanh. Cause Het dòm. Cold (a) Câã̆c. Cup Chan. Conduce (to) Tôm. Cloth Souipăt. Cough Câã̆c. Commotion Revàl. Cut (to) Cat. Conquer (to) Chhnĕa. Conquered Chănh. Clothing Ao. Carriage Retê̆. Centipede Kaêp. Circle Vong. Coffin Mochhus. Chain Chervăi. Choir Sach. Change (to) Prê. Coal Khîung. Chastity Sel. Cat Chhma. Chief Mechàs, héay. Chinese Swẽ chèn. Cholera Rŏmbâl. Clear Thla. Clock Condong. Cocoa-nut Dong. Combat (to) Chebang. Commencement Dòm. Count (to) Răp. Consent (to) Prom. Console (to) Tŭo Săo. Clay Deyót. Crowd Fông, cânbân. Crow Khoêi. Cord Khse. Coast Khaeng. Cotton Crebas. Colour Sombar. Cut Cap, cat. Crown Mocõ̆t. Call (to) Han. Clean Saat. Cry (to) Tô̆ui. Carry (to) Chun, Rĕc sêng. Clean (to) Nos leáng. Cloud Sapô̆c. Chew (to) Bièm. Cold Rengia. Cricket Chungret. Clock Novea. Custom Chebăp, Tomlăp. Create (to) Bângeat. Cry Sâmléng. Cry (to) Srêc. Cook (to) Dam. Copper Spó̆n. Cymbal Lông, Khmõ̆. Crab Pomgeong. Church (temple) Preă-Vihear. Carry away (to) Roc ton. Coat (to) Leap. Child Coming.

D.

Descend (to) Chô. Desire (to) Sângvat, Châng. Destroy (to) Pombat. Debt Bomnàl. Diviner Achar. Daybreak Prealum, Preahean. Delicate Ton. Different Titey. Difficult Cra. Disciple Cŏn Só̆s. Dearth Âmnât. Dispute (to) Chhlô̆ prokêe. Doubt Moutûl. Dysentery Chomngú mual. Do (to) Thu. Dung Ach. Dress (to) Prăeae. Damp Som. Drunk Sreving. Day Thugay. Deliver (to) Preeol. Doctor Cruthnam, pet. Despise (to) Măcngeáy. Deride (to) Sôch, châm-ôn. Die (to) Slăp. Dwarf Tua. During Compung. Dust Ehuli. Dare (to) Héan. Dote (to) Trũl. Dove Rùs. Dig (to) Hal. Drum Seôr. Delay (to) Ângvéng. Dye (to) Cherlâ̆c. Darkness Tângcap. Draw (to) Téanh. Deceive (to) Bŏn chhăt. Dear Thlay. Dew Ânsóm. Deaf Câ. Dream Sâp. Dog Chkê. Door Shóĕ. Drink (to) Elinear. Duck Iea. Dream (to) Zâ̆l Sãp.

E.

Exchange (to) Dôr. Efface (to) Lap. Equal Smó. Elephant Tamrey. Endure (to) Â̆t, ôn. Engage (to) Pobuol. Enemy Satron-Khmang. Enter (to) Chôl. Envy (to) } Envy }Chernêu. Example Kébuon. Exhort (to) Boutun méan. End Chông. Evening Lŏngéach. Easy Ngeáy. End Long-âs. Eye Phnée. Egg Pong-sut. Ear Erechiéc. Equal Mytrey. Eat (to) Si, pisa, chhăn, soi. Even Smó, dock. Everywhere Sâ̆p ăulú. Eagle Antri. Earth Dey, Preă thorni.

F.

Face Mŭc. Feeble Comsoi. Family Crua. Famine Âmnâ̆t. Fatigue Nuèy. Fault Tus. Female Nhi. Ferocious Sahan. Fire Phlâng. Fever Cran. Figure Muc. Flower Phŏm. Faith Chommia. Forest Prey. Fresh Rehoi. Front Thngos. Fruit Phle. Float (to) Ândẽt. Freeze (to) Câc. Fat Thop. Frog Ong Kêp. Food Ahur Sâbiẽng. Friend Keló. Formerly Pidom. Firewood Os. Finger Day. Fast Buos. Fast (to) Si buos. Free Neaĕ Cheá. Far Chhngai. Falsehood Câhâc. Frightful Noiai. Forget (to) Chŭs bât côrna. Fly Rug. Fishing Bap. Fish (to) Stuch trey, Dóc non. Father A puc. Few Eech. Fear Khlach. Full Peuh. Feather Slap, mems. Foot Chung. Fish Eyey. Fowl Món. Fill (to) Bampenh. Fool Lengong. Follow (to) Tam, dòr tam. Firebrand Rengûc. Fall (to) Duol-thleăc. Find (to) Roi ban. Face Mac. Flesh Sach. Field Prê. Figuratively Chó̆t. Fear (to) Khlàch. Fly (to) Luèch. Fly (to) (like a bird) Hòr.

G.

Gold Meas. Gunpowder Démsón. Go (to) Tou. Greedy Luphu. Good Lââ, chiá, písa. Grind (to) Boh. Girdle Crevat. Garlic Ketym Sá. Grasshopper Chungret. Go out (to) Chenh. Green Khién, baí tong. Glass (a) Péng Kên, Kên. Go to bed (to) Dec. Grow (to) Sbec. God Prĕa. Give (to) Oi, chun. Grief Chhu. Girl Consrey. Gun Comphlûng. Gain (to) Ban chonménch. Guard (to) Reăesa. Glove Teăc. Generous Chôt tuléay. Ginger Khnhey. Glutton Luphu. Gum Chor. Govern (to) Tac tîng. Governor Chanfai sroc̆. Grave Ânisãng. Grain Crò̆p. Great Thôm Kepô̆s. Graft Crechâc. Guide (to) Nóm. Grass Smau. Garden Chomca, chebar. Gladness Ngeay.

H.

Hunger Comléan. Hungry (to be) Khléan. Helm Changcôt. Hail Prŭl. Habit Tomlá̆p. Hatchet Puthae. Hate (to) Sâ̆âp. Haricot Sondêe. Harmonious Pirô̆. High Kepô̆s. Hour Mong, Teune. Hideous Acrâ̆c, asron. Honour (to) Ró̆p an. Horror (to have an) of Kepum. Half Chomhieng conmat, pheac condat. Hard Rùng. Hell Morok. Hear (to) Lú. House Phtêa. Husband Phodey. Honey Tác khmum. Host Phnhién. Humble Suphéap réap téap. Here Nê̆ ênê̆. Heavy Thngô̆n. Hundredweight Hap. Holy Arahán. His Rônthuc. Hold (to) Can. Hole Prŏhong. Heat Cadau. Horse Sê. Hair Sôc. Heart Bêdông. How much Ponman. How Doehmedéch? Horn Sneng. Hang (to) Phiuor. Hair (of animals) Merues. Heap (to) Bomol. Have (to) Mean. Happiness Boran-Lays. Hide (to) Puvu. He Veá Cá̂̆t. Heaven Mie. Him Châng.

I.

Ignorant Khlan. Island Câ̆. Image Comnur. Imbecile Chicuat. India Pon, suey. Impost Srŏc Keling créas. Indicate (to) Bânghanh. Inundate (to) Lich. Inscribe (to) Cat. Insipid Sap. Instant Mŏ pŏnlú. Instruct (to) Predan, Pourieu. Insult (to) Promat pikhèat. Intelligence Praehuha. Intention Chò̂t. Interdict (to) Khò̆t. Interest (of money) Lar prăe. Interpret (to) Prêpasa. Interrogate (to) Suor, donding. Introduce (to) Boŭchôlnòm. Invite (to) Anchùnh. Ill Chhu. Illness Chumgŭ. If Bó. In order that Oi. Idle Khchìl. Idleness Comchil. In Kenong. Incense Comnhau. Is Còt. Inhabit (to) Non, công.

J.

Join (to) Phehăp. Joy Âmnâr. Joyous Ar, sabai, sremŏc sŏc sabai. Judge Chmrom. Judge (to) Cat săch Kedey. Just Tiéng Trâng. Jump (to) Sut.

K.

Kiss (to) Thŏp, ap. King Luong, sdăch. Know (to) Déng, chê. Kill (to) Sâmlûp. Knife Combit. Kneel (to) Lut cháng cong. Knee Cháng cong.

L.

Labour Phehuor. Lake Touli Sap. Leave (to) Lêng, chol. Layman Crehŏs. Lamp Chiêng Kién. Language Pasa. Language Ândut. Language (of a country) Pasa. Large Tuléay. Lick (to) Lit. Light Sral. Leper Chomugu, Khlong. Leprous Comlong, Khlong. Letter Âcâr, sombăt. Leaven Tambê. Lip Pepir. Liberty Lâmpey. Line Poutŏt. Line (fishing) Sontŭch. Limpid Thla. Lion Sóng. Law Crót, viney. Long Véng. Let (to) Chuol. Lean Siom. Lead (to) Dóc, nóm. Lie (to) Câ̆hâ̆c cŏmphŭs. Leaf Sló̆r. Left Chhnéng. Lose (to) Bâng, bât. Little Eoch. Ladder Chóndór. Light (to) Och. Lead Somnar. Low Iéap. Like Suró. Lend (to) Khchey. Lawsuit Kedey. Lower (to) Lontéep. Learn (to) Lù, rién. Look at (to) Múl. Laugh (to) Soch. Learned Méac, prach. Lord Âmmechûs, mechăs. Like Smó, doch. Love (to) Srelant. Life Aios. Live (to) Rô̆s.

M.

Malay Churéa. Male Chnmul. Malediction. Bŏndasa. Misfortune Ândarai, piér, lombac. Mandarin Maman. Mango Soai. Manner Iĕang. Marsh Bóng, trepang. Marry (to) Souipĕa apea pipéa. Mark Sâmcól. Morning Prû̆c. Medicine Thnamsangcon. Meditate (to) Niŭ, rompúng chon chieng. Mingle (to) Leay. Member Thnac thang. Mercury Bârât. Mother Medai, mê. Merit Bŏn. Marvellous Chôm lû. Measure (to) Vàl. Midnight Atréat. Mirror Conchâe. Model Kebuon. Month Khe. Monastery Vât. Mountain Phnom. Mount (to) Lòng. Musquito Mus. Mutton Chiêm. Murmur Khsâp, Khsién. Music Phlêng. Mat Còntil. Mad Chimat. Man Menus. Milk Tiù dâ̆. Moon Khê (prĕa-Chăn). Miser Comnaut. Much Chrón. Mouth Môt. Mud Phoc. Mills Bôs, tomboa. Money Srae. More Lus, Cheang. Meat Săch.

N.

Net Uon. Narrow Chang-ièt. Nail Dêc ail. Neck Kho. Now Êlounê̆. Noon Hmgay trâng. Not Com. Nine Thmey. Nose Chermo. Nest Somboi. Name Ehhnaô, neàm. No Ei. Nourish Anchein. New Crá̆p. Naked Srat. Night Yap. Nail Creehâi. Near Chut. Needle Mòchul. Native Priest Meăc, nìng prĕa sâng.

O.

Obey (to) Sdăp, doi Toudap. Observe (to) Mal. Obtain (to) Ban. Offend (to) Ehú tuc̆. Offer (to) Chun. Onion Ketym. Ounce Eomlong. Opposite Eo-tung. Orange Croch. Order (to) Bângcáp. Open (to) Bòc. One Muey. Old man } Old }Chăs. Other Sitey-tiĕt, e tiét. Oil Preńg. Oar Cheo. Often Chrondâng, chron créa. Owl Eitui. Of Si âmpi. Overflow Compô̆i. Oath Sâmbât.

P.

Pride Comnoi. Pagoda G. vihéar. Pair Cû. Palace Vang, Preă-montir. Palm-tree Dóm tenot. Peacock Canghoc. Paper Credas. Paradise Sthan suor, phimean. Pardon (to) Ât tus. Priest Sâng Kreach. Porringer Chan. Perceive (to) Khūuh. Pray (to) Phéavĕanea, sot thor. Prayer Ehór pheavinia. Prison Erung. Price Tomlay. Profit Chomniuh. Profound Chron. Promise (to) Sãmŏt. Prompt Ranăs. Prostrate oneself (to) Crap. Punish (to) Toctus. Partake (to) Chec. Pass (to) Huvs. Poor Pibac. Pay (to) Sâng. Paint (to) Cuor. Pelican Eung. Pierce (to) Ehlu, thleay. People Reas. Perhaps Proman. Pound (to) Bô̆c. Pipe Khsier. Prickly Hór, măt. Place Dăc, tuò. Pity (to) Anót, anot. Please (to) Săp. Pleasure Âmnâr sôc sabai. Plank Cadar. Plant (to) Dam. Poison Ehnam pal. Pepper Mŏreih. Polished Reling. Pork Chrue. Pursue (to) Ehuli. Pomegranate Tetum. Pupil Crôm Sôs. Pincers Eăngeap. Power Amnach. Preach (to) Eisna. Prepare (to) Riép. Plane (to) Chhus. Perspiration Rhú̂s. Perspire (to) Bêe nhús. Perforated Thlu, dăch. Preserve (to) Eue reaisa. Pine-apple Monós. Perceive (to) Klrúuh. Print (to) Bâ̆ pum. Play (to) Líng. Place Tach. Pound (weight) Neal. Put (to) Dăc, tuo. Piece Comnap.

Q.

Queen Khsatrey. Question (to) Dondeng. Quit (to) Léng, léa. Quick Chhăp.

R.

Reason Sack Kedey. Row (to) Cheo. Rank Chuor. Raze (to) Côr. Rat Condor. Ray Reăcsemey. Recently Âmbauh. Receive (to) Totuol. Recompense Rongvoú. Rent Viéch. Rule (to) Soi réach. Regret (to) Sdai. Religion Sassena. Repent (to) Chhu chá̆t. Reply (to) Chhlói. Respect (to) Cat Khlach. Remain (to) Non. Restore (to) San̂g viuh. Rouse (to) Dàs. Revolt (to) Kebâ̆t. Rich Cââ̆c. Riches Sombat tròp. River Prêe, stùng. Rice Iron. Ângeâ. Bai. Roast Thang. Red Crehâm. Route Thlon. Roof Tambâl. Rain Phliéng. Run Rã̆t. Rain (to) Phliéng. Rotten Laoy. River Touli. Ripe Eam. Read Sot. Rainbow Anthua. Ring Anchién. Relation Bang phoon, sach uheat.

S.

Spit (to) Sdâ Pruvs. Strengthen (to) Chuol. Spider Ling peáng. Sit down (to) Ângmi. Sharp Sruéch. Sharpen (to) Sâmbiéng. Smell Eum Keloń. Shadow Molâp. Storm Phiu. Straw Chambońg. Speak (to) Sredey--Nieáy. Sweep (to) Bas. Stick Iâmbâng. Shine (to) Phlú. Seal Ira. Slander (to) Chombon. Soul Prea lúng. Smelling Amnach, p. bâzmey. Set out (to) Eau. Stone Ehmâ. Sweet Saân. Straight Eran̂g. Squirrel Comprŏc. Still Etiér. Swell (to) Hŏm. Send (to) Pró, phnô. Shoulder Sma. Sword Sâmsér. Stuff Sompat. Star Pheai. Study (to) Rień. Split (to) Su. Son Cou Pros. Strong Khlang. Strike (to) Meay. Son-in-law Côu prusa. Swallow Trechiéc cam. Shame Khmas. Swear (to) Sebât. Shine (to) Phlu. Slander (to) Sredey dám. Sea Sremăt. Sparrow Chap. Show (to) Bânghanh. Soft Som. Swim (to) Hêl. Snow Ap. Sing (to) Chrieng. Seek (to) Roc. Scissors Contray. Sew (to) Dér. Short Keley. See (to) Sâmléng. Shore Mót compong. Stream Stûng. Sand Khsach. Sabre Dan. Sacrifice Buchéa. Seize (to) Toc, chap. Season Câughê. Salary Chhnuol. Sob (to) Tuéuh. Satiety Châet. Sauce Sômlâ. Savoury Pisa. Seal Era. Seal (to) Prelâc âmbêl. Saw Anar. Saw (to) Ar. Scribe Smién. Sculptor Chhleăc. Shake (to) Ângruom. Succour (to) Chuey. Secretary Smień. Sow (to) Prô, sap. Serpent Pôs. Sieve Chuey. Sex Ângiochéat. Silent Sngiém. Silk Pré. Soldier Pôl, tahéan. Sun Ehngay. Sound (to) Phsâm. Sulphur Eeá. Suffer (to) Spoń thor. Soil (to) Chhú, ât. Suspicion Montúl. Statue Rup. Stimulate Âutóng. Succession Mârdâ̆c. Sugar Seâr. Suffice (to) Lemon. Supplicate (to) Ângvâr. Support (to) Â̆t. Suspend (to) Phiuor. Stoop (to) Pontēep Khluon Êng. Soon Chhăp. Silent (to be) Non sugiém. Steep (to) Trom. Sell (to) Lô̆c. Stomach Khial. Smooth (to) Smó, reling. Say Sredey. Small pox Ot. Shed (to) Chăk. Saucepan Chhang, keteă.

T.

Take (to) Yoi. Tail Cŏntui. Think (to) Niŭ, rompûng chŏuchúng. Thus Hêt nê. Then Eŭp. To-day Ehngay nê̆. Thin Siom. Trade Ehneúh prô. Thunder Routèa. Taste (to) Shlõ̆c. Tear (to) Reliĕr. To-morrow Sõă. Tooth Ehmeúh. Teach (to) Predan. Together Kenéa. Thick Crăs. Thorn Soŭla. Tin Somnăr Pahang. Trust (to) Dêc. Take care (to) Réacsa. Tipsy Chăêt, srevońg. Tobacco Ehnăm chõ̆c. Table Tang. Try Prońg. Tax Põ̆n, suey. Testimony Bŏntál. Tempest Phin. Temple Preă viheár. Time Cal, pileá, vileá. Thibet Preă, sumér. Tiger Khla. Thee Êng, preă, sedêng. Thunder Phiôr, roŭteă. Torch Chôulô. Torrent Stung. Tortoise Ândoc. Touch (to) Pó̆l. Tower Preă-sat. Turn (to) Vil. Translate (to) Prê. Traffic Chomnuénh. Transcribe (to) Châmlâng. Tremble (to) Nhór. Trumpet Erê. Throne Cõ̆l. Too much Pic. Troop Fông, cân-bân. Tile Kebúońg. Turbulent Repus. Town Pŏnteéy. True Prã̆cã̆t; Arã̆ng. Thing Rebâs. Travel (to) Dór. Toad King cok. Twin Cŏn Phlô. There Ênŏ, nŏ. Tear Eŭć Phneé.

U.

Undergo (to) Mãrdã̆c. Uproar Vôr. Ulcer Bõ̆s. Universe Lu key. Unite (to) Phsã̆m. Urine Tuc uõ̆um. Usage Tomlóp. Use (to) Pro. Useful } Utility }Preioch. Understand (to) Yŏl. Useless Ât preíoch. Upright Chhor. Untie (to) Srai. Under Crom, ê crom. Ungrateful Smŏr. Ugly Airâc.

V.

Very Năs. Vague Relõ̆c. Vessel Sâmpon, capol. Vaunt (to) Uot. Vase Chan. Vein Sesay. Venom Pŭs. Virtue Cousâl, bŏn. Victory Chhneă. Virgin Prommâ̆châ̆rey. Village Phum. Violent Khlang. Violet Sâmbôr soag. Violin Chăpey. Visit (to) Suor. Vow Bâmmâ̆n. Vow (to) Bân bâmmâ̆n. Veil Sounoiéa. Veil (to) Bang. Voice Sâmleńg. Vomit (to) Cunot. Voracious Lupha. Vice Bap, tus. Vegetable Poule pongea.

W.

When Calna. Who Nana. What Oy? Sat ay? Wake (to) Phuheăc. Wisdom Samphi. Winding Chhăp. Work Car. Work (to) Thú car. Watch (to) Retrit tetrut. Wind Khiâl. Worm Chŏulin dûngeon. Well (a) Andońg. Word Peac. Why Debâtay. We Túng. Work Chĕang. Water (to) Sroch. Wait (to) Ohâm. Wash (to) Pongeon. Water-closet Leáng. When Căl, calêna, compung. Wicked Bap, Chomugú. Walk (to) Dór. World Long. Word Peác. Wall Comphin̂g. Water Tŭć. Write (to) Sâ̆cer. Wife Propôn. Wake (to) Dăs. Wave Touli. Wager Phnŏl. War Só̆c. Wine Sra. Wish (to) Châng. Warm Cadan. Warm (to) Prap. White Sâ. Wound Rebuos. Wood Srey. Where Êna. Woman Srey. Widower Pomaí.

Y.

Yes Chŭs, bât, côrna. Year Chhnam. Yellow Lúóng. Young Coming. Yesterday Mŏsãl.

Z.

Zeal Chhú chaăl. Zinc Sămnăr pang Krey.

NAMES OF THE NUMBERS.

1 Muey. 2 Pir. 3 Bey. 4 Buon. 5 Prăm. 6 Prămmuey. 7 Prämpil. 8 Prămbey. 9 Prambuon. 10 Dâ̆p. 11 Mõtó̆n Dâ̆p. 12 Pirtó̆n dâ̆p. 13 Beytó̆n dâ̆p. 14 Buontó̆n dá̆p. 15 Prămtó̆n dá̆p. 16 Prămmueytó̆n dá̆p. 17 Prămpiltó̆n dá̆p. 18 Prămbeytó̆n dâ̆p. 19 Prămbuontó̆n dâ̆p. 20 Mŏphey, or Bien Phey. 21 Mŏphey muey, or Phey muey. 22 Mŏphey pir, or Phey pir. 23 Mŏphey bey, or Phey bey. &c. 30 Sumsá̆p. 40 Sêsó̆p. 50 Hosá̆p. 60 Hocsá̆p. 70 Chêtsá̆p. 80 Pêtsó̆p. 90 Cansá̆p. 100 Mŏ roi. 200 Pir roi. 300 Bey roi. 400 Buon roi. 500 Prăm roi. 600 Prămmuey roi. &c. 1,000 Mŏ pŏn. 2,000 Pir pó̆n. &c. 10,000 Mŏ mŭn. 100,000 Mŏ sên. 1,000,000 Mŏ cõt. 10,000,000 Mŏ béan. 100,000,000 Mŏ a Kho. 1,000,000,000 Mŏ puni.

CARDINAL POINTS.

North Ê chûng, Tùs udãr. South Ê thbong, Tus ê bor. East Ê cát, Tus ê cát. West Ê lich, Tus ê chém.

SEASONS.

Rainy Season Cânghê or redon phliéng. Hot or Dry Season Cânghê or redon cadan. Winter Cânghê or redon rengèa.

THE DAYS OF THE WEEK.

Sunday Atú̆t. Monday Chan. Tuesday Âng Kéar. Wednesday Pût. Thursday Prĕa-hó̆s. Friday Sŏc. Saturday San.

THE NAMES OF THE MONTHS.

1. March Chêt. 2. April Pisac. 3. May Chis. 4. June Asat. 5. July Srap. 6. August Phetrebot. 7. September Asôch. 8. October Cârdó̆c. 9. November Méac Khsér. 10. December Bõ̆s. 11. January Méac thõ̆m. 12. February Phâ̆l cun.

CYCLE OF TWELVE YEARS.

1. Pig Côr. 2. Rat Chût. 3. Ox Chhlom. 4. Tiger Khal. 5. Hare Thâ. 6. Dragon Rung. 7. Serpent Méa Sanh. 8. Horse Méa mê. 9. Goat Méa mê. 10. Monkey Voê. 11. Cock Roca. 12. Dog Chô.

PRONUNCIATION OF THE CAMBODIAN VOWELS.

a, ă, ã; é, ê; i; o, ó; u, ú.

CAMBODIAN VOWELS.

a. This is pronounced like the English word, “Palm.”

ă. This is pronounced short; as, “Mat.”

ã. This is something between the _a_ and the _o_; it is pronounced like a very open _o_.

é. This is pronounced like our close _e_; as, “Men.”

ê. This is pronounced like our open _e_; as, “He.”

i. This is pronounced also like our _e_.

o. This is pronounced like our _o_; as, “Go.”

ó. This is pronounced like _eu_ in “Liqueur.”

u. Like _ou_, in “You.”

ú. This is pronounced like _u_.

DIPHTHONGS.

Ai, ei, oi, ôi, ói. This is pronounced with a single emission of sound.

Ay, ey, oy, óy, ui, úi. This is pronounced with two emissions of sound, as, a-ï, e-ï, o-ï, u-ï, ú-ï.

Cha, ché, chi, cho, chu. This is pronounced as Tia, tié, tii, tio, tiu; with a single emission of sound.

Chha, chhé, chhi, chho, chhu. This is pronounced as Thcha, thché (etc.), with a strong aspiration.

Kha, khe, khi, kho, khu. This is pronounced as Ka, ke, ki (etc.), with a strong aspiration.

Nha, nhe, nhi, nho, nhu. This is pronounced as Nia, Nie (etc.), with a single emission of sound.

Pha, phe, phi, pho, phu. This is pronounced as pa, pe, pi (etc.), with an aspiration.

Nga, nge, ngi, ngo, ngu. This is pronounced hard.

Tha, thé, thi, tho, thu. Hard, and with an aspiration.

THE LORD’S PRAYER IN CAMBODIAN.

O’ Preă dâ công lu mic, apuc Túng Khnhŏm oi: Túng Khnhŏm ângvâr Preă-âng, som oi ûs neăc phâng têng núng cot sesór preă néam Preă-âng: som oi preă-nocor Preă-âng ban Túng Khnhŏm. Som ai rebal méan non dey thú tam preă hartey Preă-âng dock lú mic. Ahar Túng Khnhŏm sâ̆p thngay som ai Túng Khnhŏm ban thngai nê: hoï som pros bap Túng Khnhŏm dock iung Khnhŏm â̆t tus neăc êna mian tus núng Túng Khnhŏm: hoï som pum ai Túng Khnhŏm doi comnach: tê aî Túng Khnhŏm ban ruéch âmpi ândâ̆rai teăng puâng. Amén!

LETTERS FROM M. MOUHOT.

TO SAMUEL STEVENS, ESQ.

[To be communicated to the Royal Geographical Society.]

Brelum, among the Savage Stiêns, lat. N. 11° 46′ 30″, long. W. 103° 3′, merid. of Paris, 15th October, 1859.

DEAR MR. STEVENS,

I profit by a favourable opportunity which has just presented itself to write you a few hasty lines to let you know that I am alive. For the last two months I have been living with the savage Stiêns amidst their immense forests, the latitude being precisely as I have stated above, and here I have passed the season most favourable for collecting insects and land shells. In spite of the letter given to me by the King of Cambodia, ordering all the chiefs of the Srok Khmer, or Cambodian villages, to furnish me with the means of transport on my journey, I experienced much difficulty, as frequently neither buffaloes nor carts were to be found in the hamlets through which I passed. My journey took me a month to accomplish, which is about three times as long as it would have taken me on foot.

On the 21st July, after having descended the great arm of the Mekon from Pinhalú, a village about nine miles from the capital, and in lat. 11° 46′ 30″ N. and long. 103° 3 W. merid. of Paris, as far as Penom Peuh, a commercial town filled with Chinese, and situated at the conflux of two streams, I ascended the great Cambodian River, the water of which is still low, as all through the country the rainy season is two months later than usual. The Mekon is studded with islands, of which many are eight or nine miles long and more than a mile broad; such is the large and beautiful island of Ko-Sutin, where I arrived after five days’ journey. I estimate the width of the river to be about three miles. Pelicans are found on its waters, often in flocks of more than fifty, and storks, sea swallows, and other aquatic birds, abound in the shallow parts of the river. The general aspect of this mighty river is, however, rather sombre than gay, although doubtless there is something imposing in the rapidity of its waters, which run like a torrent. Few boats are to be seen on it, and its banks are almost barren (the forests being more than a mile distant), and, being constantly undermined by the water, fall down at the least shock, and this is generally all that you can see or hear. The Menam is much more gay and animated.

The rapids and cataracts commence about thirty or forty leagues north of Ko-Sutin, on the confines of Laos, and it is there necessary to leave the large boats and take to canoes, which as well as the luggage are often obliged to be carried on men’s backs.

The current of the Mekon is so strong that at certain times of the year you can go little more than a league a day, and the rowers often seek for fire in the evening at the very place where they cooked their rice in the morning. I ascended it in a small boat with three rowers, but at every bend of the river we had the greatest trouble to make any progress, and were frequently obliged to hold on by the rushes to prevent our being carried away by the current. Eight days after leaving Pinhalú I reached Pemptiélan, a large Cambodian village, where I found it necessary to take to land travelling.

There still remained 150 miles to travel in carts, all in an easterly direction. I was well received by the mandarin at the head of affairs in this part of the country, and was able to set out again in two days.

The first day our conveyances upset, and I feared that we should be unable to proceed; there were continually dreadful bogs, quagmires, and marshes, in which the carts sank up to the axletrees and the buffaloes to their bellies. Fortunately on the following day the road improved, but for three weeks all that was visible was a few scattered rice-fields round the villages, and we had to make our way through a marshy plain, covered with thick and dark woods, which reminded one of the enchanted forest of Tasso, and it is easy to understand that the imagination of a pagan race peoples these gloomy solitudes with evil spirits. Twenty times in an hour the men who accompanied us were obliged to raise the large branches and cut down the trunks which obstructed our passage, and sometimes we had to make a new path for ourselves.

The Cambodians were all much surprised at seeing us journeying towards the Stiêns at the worst time of the year, for in that country the rainy season had commenced, and even those who live nearest dare not venture there; and had I not brought with me from Siam my two young servants, I could not for any money have found a single individual to accompany me. Even they felt great repugnance to proceed--for in Siam, Cambodia bears a terrible reputation for unhealthiness, and unhappily both for them and for myself they were attacked with fever in the forests, since which, instead of receiving any help from them, I have had two patients to nurse.

Passing through a village peopled by a barbarous race of Annamites, I ran great risk of being taken prisoner by them, and being sent to finish my researches in a dungeon. Last year the carriages belonging to a French missionary were completely rifled, and the men sent with ropes round their necks to Cochin China. I loaded all my guns, and gave one to each of my men: our firm appearance, no doubt, frightened them, for we were not attacked.

In spite of the heat, the fatigue, and privations inseparable from such a journey, I arrived among the Stiêns in perfectly good health as far as I was concerned, and here I found a settlement of Catholic missionaries from Cochin China. It would have been impossible to go further, for I could neither find means of transport nor provisions, for at this time of the year the poor savages have consumed all their rice, and have nothing to live upon but herbs, a little maize, and what they can catch in the chase. I therefore accepted the hospitality offered to me with much kindness by a good priest. In a few weeks the rainy season will be over, the nights will become cold, and for several months insects will be found, and after that will come the turn of the birds, with which I shall exclusively occupy myself.

My departure from here will depend upon circumstances; perhaps I shall myself be the bearer of this letter to Pinhalú, perhaps I may be detained here some months by the bad state of the roads and the impossibility of procuring vehicles during the rice-harvest.

If you ask who are this strange people, living retired on the table-lands and mountains of Cambodia, which they appear never to have quitted, and differing entirely in manners, language, and features from the Annamites, Cambodians, and Laotians, my answer is that I believe them to be the aborigines of the country, and that they have been driven into these districts by the repeated inroads of the Thibetians, from whom they evidently descend, as is proved by the resemblance of features, religion, and character.

The whole country from the eastern side of the mountains of Cochin China as far as 103° long., and from 11° lat. to Laos, is inhabited by savage tribes, all known under one name, which signifies “inhabitants of the heights.” They have no attachment to the soil, and frequently change their abode; most of the villages are in a state of continual hostility with each other, but they do not attack in troops, but seek to surprise each other, and the prisoners are sold as slaves to the Laotians.

Their only weapon is the cross-bow, which they use with extraordinary skill, but rarely at a distance of more than twenty paces. Poisoned arrows are used only for hunting the larger animals, such as elephants, rhinoceros, buffaloes, and wild oxen, and with these the smallest scratch causes death, if the poison is fresh: the strongest animal does not go more than fifty paces before it falls; they then cut out the wounded part, half roast it without skinning or cutting it up, after which they summon the whole village by sound of trumpet to partake of it. The most perfect equality and fraternity reign in these little communities, and the Communists would here find their theories reduced to practice and producing nothing but misery.

The strongest European would find it difficult to bend the bow which the Stiên, weak and frail as he appears, bends without effort, doubtless by long practice.

They are not unacquainted with agriculture, but grow rice and plant gourds, melons, bananas, and other fruit-trees; their rice-fields are kept with the greatest care, but nearly all the hard work is done by the women. They seldom go out in the rainy season on account of the leeches, which abound in the woods to such a degree as to render them almost unapproachable; they remain in their fields, where they construct small huts of bamboo, but as soon as the harvest is over and the dry season returns they are continually out fishing or hunting. They never go out without their baskets on their backs, and carrying their bows and a large knife-blade in a bamboo handle. They forge nearly all their instruments from ore which they procure from Annam and Cambodia. Although they know how to make earthen vessels, they generally cook their rice and herbs in bamboo. Their only clothing is a strip of cloth passed between the thighs and rolled round the waist. The women weave these scarfs, which are long and rather pretty, and which when well made often sell for as much as an ox. They are fond of ornaments, and always have their feet, arms, and fingers covered with rings made of thick brass wire; they wear necklaces of glass beads, and their ears are pierced with an enormous hole, through which they hang the bone of an animal, or a piece of ivory sometimes more than three inches in circumference. They wear their hair long in the Annamite fashion, and knot it up with a comb made of bamboo; some pass through it a kind of arrow made of brass wire, and ornamented by a pheasant’s crest.

Their features are handsome and sometimes regular, and many wear thick mustachios and imperials.

Quite alone and independent amidst their forests, they scarcely recognise any authority but that of the chief of the village, whose dignity is generally hereditary. For the last year or two the King of Cambodia has occasionally sent the mandarin who lives nearest the Stiêns to their first villages, in order to distribute marks of honour to their chiefs, hoping little by little to subdue them, and to get from them slaves and ivory, and already he receives a small tribute every year. His emissaries, however, scarcely dare pass the limits of the kingdom, so fearful are they of the arrows of the savages and of the fevers which reign in their forests.

The Stiên is gentle and hospitable, and possesses neither the stupid pride of the Cambodian, nor the refined cruelty and corruption of the Annamite. He is the “good fellow” of the forest, simple and even generous; his faults are those common to all Asiatics, namely, cunning, an extraordinary power of dissimulation, and idleness; his great passion is hunting, and he leaves work to the women, but, unlike the Cambodians, robbery is very rare among them.

They believe in a supreme being, but only invoke the evil spirit to induce him to leave them in peace. They bury the dead near their dwellings. They do not believe in metempsychosis, but think that animals have also souls which live after their death, and continue to haunt the places they frequented in their lives. Their superstitions are numerous; the cry of an owl, or the sight of a crow, just as they are about to set off on a journey, they consider a bad augury, which is sufficient to turn them from their plans.

When any one is ill they say it is the demon tormenting him, and keep up night and day a frightful uproar round him, which only ceases when one of the bystanders falls as in a fit, crying out, “He has passed into me, he is stifling me.” They then question the new patient as to the remedies which must be employed to cure the sick man, and as to what the demon demands to abandon his prey. Sometimes it is an ox, a pig, too often a human victim; in the latter case they pitilessly seize on some poor slave, and immolate him without remorse.

They imagine that all white people inhabit secluded corners of the earth in the midst of the sea, and often ask if there are any women in our country. When and how I can return to Cambodia and Siam I am ignorant, and I dare not think of the difficulty I shall experience among the rude and stupid Cambodians in transporting my treasures. What heartbreaking jolts my boxes of insects will receive! What palpitations I shall feel each time some rough fellow takes them to place on the oxen, elephants, or his own back! Poor soldiers of science! these are our trophies, and in the eyes of some people find as much merit as a piece of silk fastened to a pole; and what pains, patience, and solicitude is necessary to procure them! therefore I believe my anxiety as to my collections will be understood by the lovers of nature.

Pinhalú, 20th December, 1859.

P.S.--I arrived last evening at Pinhalú, in perfect health, and am now about to go northward to visit the famous ruins of Ongcor and then return to Bangkok, so I have little time to give you any details as to what I despatch from Komput and Singapore. I am not quite satisfied; for birds are scarce here, and I have but a small number; besides, my boxes as I feared have been much knocked about; I sent them off to Komput on men’s backs. On my return to Bangkok I will send you some good maps of this almost unknown country.

TO SAMUEL STEVENS, ESQ.

[To be communicated to the Geographical Society of London.]

Khao Samoune, Province of Pechaburi (Siam). Lat. N. 13° 4′, long. 100°. 15th June, 1860.

In my last letter, of March, 1859, I told you about two active volcanoes that I discovered in the Gulf of Siam, one in the little isle of Koman, lat. 12° 30′ 29″ N., and long. 101° 50′ 2″ W., mer. of Greenwich, and of the probable existence of others whose workings were latent and slow. Since then I have travelled through Cambodia, from north to south and from east to west, gone up the Mekon as far as the frontier of Laos, visited one of the savage tribes which live between these two countries and Cochin China, then crossed the great lake Touli Sap, explored the provinces of Ongcor and Battambong, which are full of splendid ruins, one of which in particular, the temple of Ongcor, is almost perfect, and, perhaps, unequalled in the world. I then passed from the Mekon to the Menam, and returned to Bangkok.

A low table-land, of which the gradual slope takes a week to ascend, separates the two rivers.

A chain of mountains, of which the highest peak is 6274 English feet above the level of the sea, extends to the S.W., joins the ranges of Chantaboun, Pursak, and Thung Yai, which are from 4000 to 5000 feet high, and reaches nearly to Komput and Hatienne; while to the north another small chain, joining the greater one of Korat, runs eastward, throws some ramifications into the provinces of Battambong and Ongcor Borege, which is 40 miles farther north, and bears the name of the mountains of Somrai.

Not being in direct communication with the Archæological Society, I wish to call your attention to the marvellous remains at Ongcor of the civilization of a great people.

The country is rich in woods and mines, and although thinly populated, produces enough cotton for the use of Cochin China, while the great lake, which abounds in fish, furnishes an immense quantity of this article also to China. Iron of a superior quality is also abundant, and the Kouis, an ancient tribe of a primitive race, living east of the Mekon, who speak the same language as the Stiêns, work it very industriously. There are also many other mines, rich in gold, lead, and copper, in the chains to the east and west; that of Pursak produces the beautiful cardamom, which, when transplanted, gives fine stems but no fruit.

Unluckily most of these mountains are frightfully unhealthy, and no one but those who have lived there from infancy can remain long among them with impunity.

In the island of Phu-Quor or Koh Trou, which belongs to Cochin China, and which is very near to Komput, there are rich mines of cannel coal. I was not able to get there, the war having rendered the people hostile and cruel to all white men; but my attention having been drawn to it by some ornaments worked in this mineral by the islanders, I procured two specimens, which I send you.

There are several extinct volcanoes in Pechaburi, four of which I have ascertained to form part of the numerous detached and conical hills which are probably all ancient craters belonging to the great chain Khao Deng, which occupies all the northern part of the centre of the Malayan peninsula, and is inhabited by the Kariens, a primitive and independent people, who, like the Stiêns and other tribes, have doubtless been driven back to the mountains by the encroachments of the Siamese, and where the inclemency of the climate protects them against all attacks from their neighbours. The mountains are known in the country as the Na-Khou, Khao, Panom Knot, Khao Tamonne, and Khao Samroum. The last two are 1700 and 1900 feet above the level of the sea, and only a few leagues distant from each other. All these craters appear to have been originally upheaved (“craters of elevation” M. de Buch styles them) from the bottom of the water, at a period when all this part of the country, as far as the great chain, which I have not yet been able to visit, was under the sea.

Besides an immense volcanic cone, in part fallen in, and where the ground resounds under one’s feet, each of the mounts has several lateral mouths and a number of fissures and chimneys, or passages, which bear evident traces of subterranean fires. They are entirely composed of trachytic rocks, scoria, lava, felspar, &c.

The Siamese have made temples of the largest of these caverns, which are of great depth and breadth, and extremely picturesque. One of the caverns of Samroum is quite inaccessible. Having descended to the depth of 20 feet by a chimney 2 feet wide at its mouth, and shut in between rocks, I found myself at the entrance of a deep cavern, but there all my efforts to proceed farther were defeated; a few steps from the entrance my torch suddenly went out, my breathing was checked, and I in vain fired my gun several times in order to disperse the foul air.

TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT (HIS BROTHER).

Bangkok, 13th October, 1860.

To you, my dear brother, I address my last letter before quitting Bangkok for my long journey to Laos. I have waited till the last moment for the steamer which ought to bring me letters from Europe, but unfortunately I am obliged to set out without receiving any answers to those which I sent in May, on my return from Cambodia. I fear that, once in the interior of the country, I shall have no means of sending letters; arm yourself, therefore, with patience, dear brother, and do not think me neglectful if you do not receive any; but be sure that I, alone in those profound solitudes, shall suffer more than you, from my ignorance of everything concerning those dear to me; and during the eighteen or twenty months which the journey will probably occupy I shall not see a European face nor hear a word which can recall to me my beloved country.

I have done everything in my power to obtain letters and passports from the French and Siamese authorities here, but all have been nearly useless. I have obtained nothing but a letter from the King’s brother, who has the superintendence of the provinces north of Laos, and with that I trust to be able to get on. The good Dr. Campbell has supplied me with medicines of all kinds, and as I am nearly acclimatized, and have with me devoted followers--one particularly, Phrai, who would die for me--you may be easy on my account. Besides, and I really know not why, I have hitherto been much liked by the missionaries and natives, and I am sure it will be the same there. Fever does not kill all travellers. I have traversed many dangerous districts in my journey to Cambodia, and I am safe. Let us trust in God, my brother, that I shall be as fortunate in this expedition, and that we shall meet again. Nothing is requisite but courage, hope, and patience. I am sober, and drink nothing but tea. My food is the same as that of the natives, dried fish and rice, and sometimes a little game which I shoot, and roast on a spit after the fashion of the natives, that is, by two bamboos stuck into the ground and another laid horizontally on them, which is turned from time to time. My amusements are hunting, arranging my collections, my drawings, to which I devote a great deal of time, and of which some are not bad, as you may judge by those sent to the Geographical Society of London, and my journal; with those I pass many pleasant hours. Besides, you know how I love nature, and am only really happy in the woods with my gun, and that when there, if I know you all to be happy, I have nothing to wish for. I often think of our good old father, but as long as you are with him I feel easy about him; you will make him bear my absence patiently, repeat often to him how I love him, and how happy I shall be when I can tell him about my long journeys. And you, my brother, love and cherish your two dear children, my little nephews; inculcate in them the love of nature, and teach them to think that virtue is recompensed even here, and a good conscience ennobles more than patents of nobility, or orders in the button-hole; bring up your little ones in the love of God, and of all that is good and great. Think and talk sometimes with Jenny of the poor traveller. Adieu, my brother!

TO MADAME CHARLES MOUHOT (HIS SISTER-IN-LAW).

Khao Khoc, 21st December, 1861.

An unexpected opportunity presents itself, my dear Jenny, to send you a few words before proceeding farther. A new year is about to commence: may you, my dear little sister, experience in its course only joy and satisfaction; may your interesting little family cause you unmixed happiness; in a word, I desire every possible good for you. As for myself, I ask nothing but the happiness of seeing you all again. Think occasionally of the poor traveller whom every day removes farther and farther from civilization, and who for eighteen months or perhaps two years is about to live alone in a strange place, where I shall not have even the consolation of meeting those good missionaries as at Brelum and in Cambodia.

You know my manner of life, so I shall not repeat it. The heat and the musquitoes make a real hell of this place. Those who praise it must have hard heads and skins, or else must be comfortably lodged, and surrounded by an army of slaves. They know nothing but its enjoyments. If there is one pleasant hour in the morning and another in the evening, one must think oneself lucky, for often there is no peace night or day. My pleasures are, first, liberty, that precious thing without which man cannot be happy, and for which so many have fought and will fight still; then, seeing so much that is beautiful, grand, and new, and which no one has seen before me. From these I draw my contentment. Thank God! my health is as good as when I left you, although three years have passed over me.

Soon I shall be in Laos, and then, what strange things I shall see daily! what curious beings I shall meet, to whom I shall be equally an object of curiosity! I shall have delightful days, then, perhaps, sad ones, if my servants have the fever, which happens at intervals. If only to enliven these solitudes, I could have you here, my dear Jenny, or if I could sing like you, or even like a nightingale! Sometimes I do make use of my falsetto voice, and hum the beautiful airs of Béranger, and feel strengthened by the sublime odes of that great man of genius.

Two or three thin volumes--I say thin, for the white ants have eaten the greater part of them--and a few old newspapers (new to me) compose my library; but I have blank paper, which I fill as I best can; it is an amusement, at least; and if it turn out of no other use than to serve to amuse you all, I shall be satisfied, for I am not ambitious. I dream as I smoke my pipe, for I must confess that I smoke more than ever.

Well! the musquitoes and thorns will still be my companions for a long time. It is my own choice, and I shall never complain as long as God grants to all of you the joy and happiness I wish for you.

How I shall accomplish the long journey before me I know not; probably with oxen and elephants; but if even I have to go on foot I care not, so that I reach there, for I have determined to drive away even the devil, should I meet him here.

TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.

Khao Khoc, near Pakprian (Siam), 23rd Dec. 1860.

MY DEAR BROTHER,

This is the sixth letter I have written, and written on my knees; and in this heat, and tormented by musquitoes, it is an affair of as many days. Do not complain, therefore, if this is short. Khao-Khoc is a mountain nine or ten leagues north of Pakpriau, which I visited two years ago, and where I have been waiting two months for the roads to become passable, in order to reach Korat, and then Laos. I have made a fine collection of coleoptera, particularly some remarkable longicorns. I have but few shells or birds; nevertheless, the collection is precious, and, although less numerous than the one at Pechaburi, it is quite equal to it. I have been lucky enough to replace a great part of the insects that were lost in the _Sir J. Brooke_.

I remain perfectly well, but my two poor lads suffer from time to time with intermittent fever; quinine, however, generally stops it, and I hope the change of air will do them good. The brave fellows do their work none the less cheerfully, and they love me, and are quite devoted to me.

I am only waiting for the arrival of my letters, through the medium of my good friend Dr. Campbell, to set out, because when I have once started I fear none of your letters will reach me.

I think I shall explore the Mekon, and go up as far as China, if circumstances are favourable, and trust to bring back from this journey many rare and precious things. I bought at Bangkok many articles to give to those who shall aid me, such as red and white cloth, brass wire, glass beads, needles, spectacles, &c.

_28th Dec._--The night before my departure for Korat. All the good news I have received from Europe and from Bangkok has made me joyful. I have just received with your letters a mass of papers. Every one is kind to me, and that is very pleasant. My friend Malherbe has sent me some _caporal_, which I had not enjoyed for a long time; he had just received some from France, along with some pipes, and a precious extract of sarsaparilla, invaluable for cooling the blood heated by the climate, the food, and the troublesome musquitoes of which I have spoken so often. I shall require another elephant to carry all the red cloth sent to me by Mr. Adamson, and which will be invaluable in Laos, as the people delight in it. I was moved even to tears at so many marks of kindness from people who hardly know me.

TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.

Korat, 26th January, 1861.

I have been three days at Korat, which is about 140 miles east-north-east of Pakpriau,--that is, nearly in the same longitude as Battambong.

The journey, which I performed on foot, in company with a caravan of 400 oxen carrying merchandise, lasted ten days, from four in the morning to sunset, deducting only a few hours in the middle of the day. My feet are in a bad state from crossing the mountains, but, nevertheless, I enjoyed my journey.

On these uplands, which are more than 4000 feet high, the air is pure and pleasant, the nights are fresh, and the early morning almost cold.

During these ten days I have collected but little, and my expenses have been greater than I calculated on. Within the last two years everything has doubled in price; but the governor appears honest; he paid me a visit, which cost me a pair of spectacles, some engravings, and other little things, but he has promised me conveyances, and a letter to the chief of another province, who will provide me with elephants.

My health is excellent, and I hope it will remain so; my servants are better. I am surrounded by a crowd of curious gazers, who fill up my hut.

TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.

Saraburi (Siam), 24th February, 1861.

You will be astonished, my dear friend, to see my letter dated from Saraburi, instead of from Laos. When I reached Chaiapume, I went to the governor with my letters, and asked him to lend me elephants to enable me to continue my journey, that being the only method of travelling among these mountains; but he refused me decidedly, and consequently I have been forced to retrace my steps. Here one can do nothing without the help of the people in power.

I therefore returned to Korat, and established Phrai in a hut which I hired of a Chinese; and went myself to Bangkok, to procure from the authorities orders to the different governors of provinces to aid me instead of throwing obstacles in my way.

From Korat I had the pleasure of travelling with an amiable mandarin of Bangkok, who had been to fetch a white elephant from Laos, and who had conceived a great friendship for me. He travelled in great style; the caravan was magnificent; we had more than sixty elephants, two of which were placed at my disposal, one for my own use, and one for my servants.

Finding myself in the good graces of this mandarin, I told him why I was going to Bangkok, and he promised to obtain for me all I wanted.

When I reached Saraburi I found all the governors of Laos and the first mandarins of Bangkok assembled there to take care of the white elephant. The Siamese, being very superstitious, and believing in metempsychosis, think that the soul of some prince or king has passed into the white elephant; they have the same belief as to white apes and albinoes, consequently they hold them all in great respect. They do not worship them, for the Siamese recognise no God, not even Buddha, but they believe that a white elephant brings luck to the country.

During the whole journey the men were busy cutting down branches to make his passage easy; two mandarins fed him with different kinds of cakes in golden dishes, and the King came out to meet him.

I owe, therefore, to the white elephant the most satisfactory letters which I have obtained, and which have cost me my best gun and nearly 300 francs in presents; but I might have had to give much more, and, as I am going to Bangkok, I can replenish my stock. As for the poor elephant, he was so much cared for and so well fed, that he died of indigestion.

It is a terrible affliction, and all the mandarins and other dignitaries collected here are in great grief about it.

TO MADAME MOUHOT (HIS WIFE).

Saraburi, 24th February, 1861.

MY DEAR ANNETTE,

You will be much surprised on receiving this letter to see it dated from Saraburi, for if you have received the one I wrote in January, you must believe me to be already in Laos. But man proposes, and God disposes. However, to reassure you, I must begin by saying that I am in perfect health, and full of strength and hope. All goes well with me.

I had in fact reached Laos. I arrived at Korat after a tedious and troublesome journey, for I had only a few oxen for my baggage, and was forced to walk myself. From there I went to Chaiapume, and here an animal of the mandarin species made himself great, and under the pretext of having no elephants refused me the means of going further, and was so rude and impolite to me that I determined at once to return and protest against the very insufficient protection which had been granted to me. Indeed, I could do nothing else, not being able to go on. The elephant which had brought me to Chaiapume took me back to Korat, and there I found a mandarin from Bangkok, who had been sent to fetch a white elephant which had been taken in Laos. I begged him to let me join his party, and he lent me two elephants, one for my servant and luggage, and one for myself. I left Phrai at Korat, with the greater part of my possessions, having hired a room for him in the house of a Chinese, and a week afterwards found myself back at Saraburi, in company with this strange divinity (who, by the way, had more black than white about him), and of the grand personage who had been sent to escort him, and who had showered on him every kind of attention during the journey. He had an escort of fifty foot soldiers and several on horseback. As for me, I wanted for nothing; at every halt the mandarin sent me ducks, fish, fruit, sweetmeats, &c., and he was also kind enough to allow me eight men as night-guards to watch round my fire. In return, I discovered for him in the mountains large quantities of copper, and even gold, which delighted him.

The whole province of Saraburi was in motion to do honour to the white elephant; the King and all his court are coming here; the ministers are here already to watch over him. I decided, therefore, to apply to the Siamese, hoping to obtain more from them than from the Europeans; and yesterday, hearing of the arrival of Khrom Luang, the King’s brother, I hastened to address myself to him. He, however, had only passed through, and was gone to Prabat, to join the King. However, I found here the man I wanted, the mandarin who has most interest in Laos, and without a letter from whom it would have been difficult to proceed. I did not know him, but I went to him to ask about the Prince, and told him what I wanted. “I am your man,” said he; “the Prince can only give an order for me to write a letter, such as I will give you, if you like.” I accepted gladly, and promised him in return my double-barrelled gun, which I could easily replace, “if he would only furnish me with the means of travelling through Laos without expense, and would bring the Chaiapume mandarin to reason.” The poor governor of Saraburi was with us, and had to remain more than an hour amidst a number of others kneeling on the bare ground, while I was seated on the mat of the mandarin, by his side, eating sweetmeats and drinking tea, while he dictated a letter in which he called the governor of Chaiapume a fool, and threatened to deprive him of his office, and of this letter I was to be the bearer; and he promised me another general one on the morrow, in which he stated that if I did not receive efficient aid it might bring on a war; and this he also repeated to all the chiefs present. My cause was gained, and I could plainly see that our affairs must be going on well in Cochin China; the echo of the cannon had its effect in Siam. However, I had promised him my gun, and evidently he wished to have it before he gave me the letters. This morning, therefore, I took it to him all cleaned and furbished up. He was delighted with it, and gave me at once the letter for Korat and Chaiapume, and to-morrow I am to have one which will carry me all through Laos without any expense but a few ticals to the cornacs. Without this, judging by what I had to pay for an elephant from Korat to Chaiapume, my purse would have been exhausted by the time I reached the north of Laos, and I should not have had the means of returning without sending to Bangkok to ask for help, which would have been a work of difficulty, and, what is worse, I should have been exposed all along the route to the insolence of these arrogant mandarins. Now, they will all humble themselves before me, taking me for some important personage sent by the Emperor Napoleon or Queen Victoria to collect butterflies, insects, and birds for them. I shall no longer travel on foot, but on elephants, and shall want for nothing. Agree, then, with me, that out of evil comes good, or rather, that God does all for the best. When at Chaiapume I found myself obliged to retrace my steps, after so many fatigues, and so great a waste of money, I was only downcast for a few minutes; God almost immediately inspired me with the idea that all would turn to my advantage, and this persuasion never left me again. Unaccountably to myself, I was gayer on my return than I had been in coming, although then I was everywhere well received and kindly treated by the people. Even after my discourteous reception at Chaiapume, all the inhabitants came to see me, to bring me little presents, and to express their regret that they could not aid me from fear of their chief. The head of the monastery took me to see some ruins similar to those in Cambodia, and gave me a tiger-skin; and all along the road I experienced the same kindness, and numbers came to me to ask for advice and various remedies.

The Chinese are all my friends. When I returned to this town, you should have seen them all run out to see me, and those at whose houses I had stopped were full of inquiries as to my affairs, and crying out “Ah! here is the gentleman back again.” The next day would be their New Year’s Day, which they keep as a feast as we do Christmas. “I have come back to feast with you to-morrow,” replied I; and the next day I was so loaded with cakes and other good things that I have not finished them yet.

You must arm yourself with patience, dear Annette, for I have not yet finished. I learned this morning that a French ship of war is at Paknam, I presume for the purpose of taking back the Siamese Ambassador who has been so long expected in France. The king must be delighted, for he has a great dread of any quarrel with France or England now that he has seen their power. They may very probably come here, and at the risk of losing three days I shall wait and see, for, doubtless, the officer would receive me well, and do more for me than the Consul did. After that, I shall go to Bangkok, where I shall remain only a day, in order to buy a few necessaries in which I was beginning to run short, such as camphor, shoes, cloth, and a gun, and to get a little money, 50 or 100 ticals, from M. Adamson, who will willingly advance it to me, as he promised; and above all, to receive all the dear letters from home, of which a number must be lying at Dr. Campbell’s.

My useless voyage to Chaiapume diminished my resources, and it would be great pity that the want of a few hundred francs should force me to return before I have completed my journey, and before I have finished collecting what will amply repay all my expenses.

In a few days I will add a line to this letter to tell you the result of my interview with the officer, and of my journey to Bangkok. I shall hear news also from your letters; let them only be good, and I shall be happy. I must now close my letter for to-day, my dear Annette; some day you will see my journal, and read all my adventures in detail. I can write no more to-day, but only repeat my assurance that I am perfectly well, in spite of all trials, thanks to my prudence and sobriety. Show this letter or anything that is interesting in it to all friends. I speak only of my own affairs, but you know I am not changed. And yet a few words of love would doubtless be more prized by you, but were I to write a thousand I could not express half the love with which my heart is filled for you all; indeed I fear to begin, for that would have no end. I write all this on my knees; my back aches, and now I must go and seek some repose. Au revoir! I trust soon to send you still better news than this. I embrace you a thousand times from the bottom of my heart, as well as all those dear to us, and am ever

Your devoted husband,

H. MOUHOT.

TO MADAME MOUHOT.

Saraburi, 25th February, 1861.

MY VERY DEAR ANNETTE,

I reached Korat two days ago, and in four more I hope to be able to proceed northward. I have been obliged to travel on foot, not having been able to procure elephants at Saraburi; my baggage was carried by oxen. I feel perfectly well, and experience so little fatigue that on the day of my arrival here I walked about till evening.

I write you these few lines only to set your mind at ease, for--surrounded from morning till night by curious gazers who have never before seen a European--it would be difficult to enter into details, but, in truth, my journey furnished but few. I travelled with Laotians, and found them very kind; in a few days I shall be in the heart of their country, and think I shall find them superior to the Siamese. I regret that this letter will be short, but I have little to tell since I wrote last; when I am quietly settled in some little hut in the midst of a village, I can write at my ease if an opportunity presents itself.

Be easy on my account, dear Annie, and feel sure that God will not abandon me; all my confidence is in Him, and this will never deceive me. He will sustain and protect you also, and this assurance gives me strength.

Adieu, my good Annette; take great care of yourself. I embrace you tenderly, and am ever your devoted and affectionate husband,

H. MOUHOT.

P.S.--I shall set off to-morrow. Yesterday I visited an old pagoda; there is another, but to which I shall not be able to go, as it would cost me 9 ticals, and take several days, and I shall be obliged to be excessively economical. Yesterday I had a visit from a mandarin, the viceroy of the province. He was very amiable, and promised me a letter, but the people are so kind that I have really no need of it, and even the disagreeable ones I manage to gain over.

Adieu, my love. Do not forget me, but do not be uneasy. May God grant to you the same tranquillity and confidence that I feel and make you as happy as I am. Do not complain of the shortness of this letter; you cannot imagine how I am pestered by gazers and idlers.

Embrace your dear mamma for me, to whom I wish good health; say everything kind to Kate, &c. Once more, adieu, and au revoir! Your devoted HENRI. I shall write whenever I find an opportunity.

TO MADAME CHARLES MOUHOT.

Louang Prabang (Laos), 23rd July, 1861.

Now, my dear Jenny, let us converse together. Do you know of what I often think when every one around me is asleep, and I, lying wrapped in my mosquito-curtains, let my thoughts wander back to all the members of my family? Then I seem to hear again the charming voice of my little Jenny, and to be listening once more to ‘La Traviata,’ ‘The Death of Nelson,’ or some other of the airs that I loved so much to hear you sing. I then feel regret, mingled with joy, at the souvenirs of the happy--oh, how happy!--past. Then I open the gauze curtains, light my pipe, and gaze out upon the stars, humming softly the ‘Pâtre’ of Béranger, or the ‘Old Sergeant,’ and thinking that one day I may return Corporal or Sergeant of the battalion of Naturalists.

Perhaps all this does not interest you, but you may feel sure that I do not forget you nor your children; so let me, my dear child, talk to you as we used to talk in the old times as we sat by the fire. When shall we do so again?

In another year, or perhaps two, dear Jenny, I shall think of returning to you all for some time. Shall you be very angry, my dear little sister, when I say that it will be with regret?--for I should wish to visit the whole of the mountains that I can see from my window. I say “window,” but here such a luxury is unknown: I live in a shed without either doors or windows--a room open to every wind.

I would wish, I repeat, to cross the whole network of mountains which extend northward, see what lies beyond them, visit China or Thibet, and see the Calmucks or the Irkoutsk. But, alas! I cannot trust my dear insects. I say “my dear insects” as you would say “my dear children” to the king of Louang Prabang.

How does all go on at Jersey?--for I hope that you are still there. Your children form your happiness, and you can dispense easily with travelling, or with those people commonly called “friends”--nothing is so general as the name, or so rare as the reality--and you are right; yet I consider a true friend as a real treasure. I may be wrong, for man is so constituted as always to long for what he has not, but I wish I had friends around me here; these places, now often gloomy, would please me more.

I hoped that at the king’s return I should have the happiness of hearing from you; but I am told that his journey will occupy a year, and before that time I shall be away from here.

I hope, my little friend, that all is well with you. Embrace your dear children for me, and talk to them sometimes about their uncle “Barberousse,” who often thinks of them in this distant land, and is collecting stories for their amusement on his return. Ask C---- what I shall bring him--a monkey, a sabre to cut off M----’s dolls’ heads--no, that would give him warlike ideas, and I do not like our modern soldiers--or a tiger-skin for a carpet. I have several. And your pretty little M----, will she have an ape, a fan, some Chinese slippers (for she must have feet which would be small even in China), some marabout feathers, or a cane to keep her brothers in order?

Adieu, adieu! Au revoir! Do not forget me.

TO MADAME MOUHOT.

Laos, Louang Prabang, 27th July, 1861.

During my journey through the forests I enjoyed in anticipation the pleasure I should enjoy on reaching Louang Prabang, the capital of the province of Laos, in writing you good long letters containing all details of my journey; but I reckoned without my host, and it will be several weeks before I can enjoy any repose, or carry my wishes into execution.

In the villages through which I passed no great degree of curiosity was manifested; but here, where the population is greater, I am surrounded by a compact and curious crowd, which extends even to the walls of a pagoda adjoining the caravanserai where I am lodged by the favour of his Majesty the King. Besides, I, in my turn, see people of various nations and tribes who excite my curiosity. Judge, therefore, if it be easy to collect my ideas. However, I profit by the occasion of the king’s departure for Bangkok in a few days to pay his tribute, and who has offered to take charge of any letters for me, to give some signs of life to you.

You will be happy to hear that I have accomplished this troublesome journey satisfactorily, without the loss of a single man, and without any personal illness. Indeed, my health has been very good, which is more than I can say for my servants, who are so kind and devoted to me. I am even astonished at myself, having gone through the mountainous district which separates the basin of the Menam from that of the Mekon, a place much dreaded by the Siamese, and covered with virgin-forests like those of Dong Phya Phia, without having had a single touch of fever, or, indeed, any indisposition, with the exception of _migraine_, caused by the heat of the sun, and having my feet in a very bad state.

I bless God for the favour granted to me of having accomplished these perilous journeys, and trust wholly to His goodness for the future.

I am now more than 250 leagues north of the place where two years ago I first drank the waters of the Mekon. This immense stream, which is larger here than the Menam at Bangkok or the Thames below London Bridge, flows between high mountains with the rapidity of a torrent, tearing up in the rainy season the trees along the banks, and breaking with a noise like that of a stormy sea against the rocks, which form a number of frightful rapids.

I arrived here only the day before yesterday, after a journey of four months and ten days; but I stopped in several places, for I often found fields ready to cut in the rice-grounds that the mountaineers cultivate on the slopes of the mountains, and when the crops are cut down insects abound.

My collections made during the journey are very valuable and beautiful, and I have a great number of new species, both entomological and conchological, with which, if they only reach London in safety, our friends will be delighted. All the beautiful kinds that I was asked for, but which elsewhere are so rare that with great trouble I was only able to procure one or two specimens, I have now in great abundance, and also many new sorts. Here I hope to do still better.

They are all savages in this province, and I have just received a visit from two young princes remarkable for their stupidity.

I have suffered little from the heat, in spite of the season, which is easy to understand, as I have been always amidst thick forests or on mountains. In the valleys the air is heavy, and the heat overwhelming; but everywhere the nights were so fresh that my wraps were useful and almost indispensable. In a few months we shall probably want fire. I prefer this climate to that of the South; there are few mosquitoes (that plague of the tropics and especially of Siam) in comparison with other places--indeed, in some of these parts I have not found any.

Thanks to the Governor of Korat, who gave me an excellent letter to the mandarins, I have travelled at little expense; without it, I should have paid much more, and have suffered every kind of inconvenience. Everywhere I have been furnished with elephants (as many as seven in some provinces), an escort, guard, and plenty of provisions.

I had this morning an audience of the great body of State Mandarins, like the House of Peers with us. Twenty of them were assembled in a vast caravanserai, and presided over by the eldest prince. You may form some idea of the dignity of these gentlemen by the drawing which I will send to you.

My plan is to pass six or eight months of the good season in the neighbouring villages, in order to complete my collection, and next January or March I will try to go north or east, where I shall pass a few more months amidst the Laotian tribes. Probably I shall go no farther, for China would be a barrier to me on the north, and Cochin China on the east. I shall then return here, and go down the Mekon in July or August, 1862, the time when the waters are high, and shall thus reach Korat in a few weeks. I am yet uncertain whether I shall stop there, whether I shall explore the eastern part of the river, or whether I shall go to Cambodia. All my movements depend upon circumstances that may arise. I shall try to profit by all that are favourable, and that will contribute to give interest to my journey.

Do not be anxious when you think of your poor friend the traveller, for you know that up to the present time everything has prospered with him: and truly I experience a degree of contentment, strength of soul, and internal peace, which I have never known before.

[_Same Letter._]

Louang Prabang, 8th August, 1861.

No event could have caused more sensation here than the arrival of “the long-bearded stranger.” From the humblest to the greatest--for even here are distinctions of rank--every one looks on a “white” as a natural curiosity, and they are not yet satisfied with looking--nothing is talked of but the stranger. When I pass through the town in my white dress, to go to the market or to visit the pagodas or other interesting places, the people crowd round me, and look after me as long as they can catch a glimpse of me. Everywhere I go complete silence reigns, and I am treated as though I were a sovereign or prince, and the council, by order of the king, have given to me as to them power of life or death over his subjects. Poor people! why can I not raise you from the abasement into which you have fallen--I am overwhelmed with presents of all kinds in return for the slightest favour shown to these unfortunate people. They seem to me some of the most to be pitied that I have seen; even the women and children are opium-eaters: they might really be called a nation of cretins.

The heat is greater here than any I have felt; when the sun shines, and there has been no rain for several days, I find it worse than at Bangkok; still the nights are generally pleasant, and from the month of December to the end of March I am told that it is really cold.

TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.

Louang Prabang, West Laos, 27th July, 1861.

As you will have the opportunity, my dear brother, of reading my other letters, I shall not write to you at length; but, nevertheless, I must give you some details as to my journey to Laos, although I cannot tell whether the crowd of curious gazers around me will permit me to write as I would wish; if not, you must blame them and not me.

On the 10th April I wrote you from Korat, and I think you must also have received a message which I sent to you by a good and honest Chinese, who has been very useful to me, and from whom I have received more help and kindness than from any other of the mandarins.

I was not then in good spirits, for I doubted whether I should be able to accomplish the journey for which I had already suffered so many annoyances, one of which was having to return to Korat to procure more useful letters than those which I had taken with me on starting. At last I obtained one from the Viceroy of Korat, which was the only one of service to me, and which sufficed to secure me aid and protection during my whole journey to Laos.

From Korat to Bangkok you know that I travelled in company with an animal who has a title equal to that of the greatest Siamese mandarin, and who was served by two inferior mandarins, who gave him his meals composed of cakes, biscuits, and sweetmeats out of golden dishes; and who had slaves sent before him to clear the way and cut down the brushwood and branches, for this elephant, according to the Siamese superstition and ignorance, possesses the soul of some deceased prince or king. They called him a white elephant, but in reality he had only a few spots of that colour on his body. Alas! The king and all his mandarins are now in mourning, for the object of their worship died of indigestion. Poor beast and poor king!

I have travelled a long way since I last wrote, and God has protected me. I crossed the mountains and went through the most dreaded jungles in the rainy season without losing a man, and without having suffered myself. My travelling expenses were comparatively small to what they might have been; everywhere I was furnished gratis with elephants, escorts, guards, and provisions (rice and fowls), as though I were an envoy from the king, and all this owing solely to a letter from the Viceroy of Korat.

I have made a good collection of coleoptera, and have procured a number of excessively rare and beautiful species. I have also obtained some very rare and interesting conchological specimens. As for animals, I have but few; some monkeys and a good many serpents.

In a week I shall be settled in a new place, where I intend to spend four or five months, and by the end of the year I trust to have 4000 insects.

The Mekon is a large and beautiful stream, full of rocks, which form frightful rapids in the rainy season. I shall descend it at the season when the waters are high, and when the navigation though dangerous is easy and rapid. I can then reach Cambodia in a month if I like, but I am undecided whether or not I shall go eastward towards the 15th degree of latitude.

It seems to me, my dear brother, that my happiness would be complete if I could have good news of you all; but, alas! more than a year must elapse before I shall hear. The last letters I received were in January; yet I am resigned, since I willingly embraced this career, which has been the dream of my whole life, for you remember how in our young days, when we still had the happiness of a tender mother to guide us, and impress on us, by her example, virtuous principles, religion, and the love of mankind, we delighted to roam the woods of our dear native place, to draw from nature, and how I stuffed the birds that we took in snares or nets.

That time is long passed, my friend, but I trust in God, who will I hope watch over you. I think of you every day in my solitude, and in the long nights when we bivouac beside the fires lighted to keep off the wild beasts, a scene of which I will send you a drawing before long.

What are your dear children doing--I picture to myself all the happiness they give you and your dear Jenny; she is well I hope. Ah! my friend, protect them all with a tender affection, and endeavour by your love, your care, and your example, to render them all happy and good.

There is one subject on which I can hardly write, that of our dear old father; it would make me too sad to think he was not happy; console him for my absence, write to him often, repeat to him how much I love him, that he is always associated in my thoughts with the memory of our good and worthy mother. But I have no need to recommend all this to you: have you not ever been good to him, a worthy son? therefore I am without anxiety on this point.

I do not speak to you of any of my physical sufferings, for I hold mental ones to be the only ones worth thinking of; but you may imagine that one cannot make a four months’ journey on elephants, who toss and shake one like a stormy sea, without fatigue, and that the heat, the long bad nights generally passed at the foot of some tree, and the wretched food, are all painful. But what matters all this? I am used to it, and my patience is inexhaustible. In truth, this life is happiness to me; how joyful I am when I find a new insect, or see a monkey fall from a tree! I do not therefore complain. The nights here are pleasant, and the mosquitoes not numerous.

The men of this nation are dull and apathetic and full of small vices. The women are generally better, and some of them are even pretty in spite of their yellow skins, but they have little idea of modesty. The men and women all bathe together without any clothing. But for the people, Louang Prabang would be one of the most charming places in the world: the lake of Geneva does not present scenes more beautiful than many here by the river.

After waiting for ten days I have at length been presented to the king with great pomp. The reception room was a shed such as they build in our villages on fête-days, but larger and hung with every possible colour. His Majesty was enthroned at one end of the hall, lazily reclining on a divan, having on his right hand four guards squatting down, and each holding a sabre: behind were the princes all prostrated, and farther off the senators, with their backs to the public and their faces in the dust; then in front of his Majesty was your poor brother, dressed all in white, and seated on a carpet, with teacups, basins, and spittoons in silver placed by his side, contemplating this grotesque scene, and having some trouble to preserve his gravity as he smoked his pipe. This visit cost me a gun for the king and various small presents for the princes, for one cannot travel here without being well furnished with presents for the kings, princes, and mandarins. Luckily it is not here as in Siam; the natives are willing to help me, and for a few inches of brass wire I get a beautiful longicorn or some other insect, and these are brought to me on all sides: thus I have succeeded in largely increasing my collection, but five pieces of red cloth have disappeared already.

The day after my first audience I had another from the second king, who wished also for a present. I sought among my stock, which anywhere else would cause me to be taken for a dealer in old stores, and found a magnifying glass and a pair of old-fashioned spectacles with round glasses, which make him look like a gorilla without hair, a little cake of soap (he had great need of it), a bottle of eau-de-cologne, and a bottle of brandy. This last was opened on the spot and duly appreciated. You see all this is expensive, but I am obliged to pay these good people, and the king has been kind to me, and is going to carry my letters for me. It is lucky that he does not understand French; for if at Bangkok the same system of postal curiosity was carried on as was established in Europe by the great king who betrayed La Vallière, I should be hung from the highest tree they could find, without even a warning. I afterwards distributed among the princes some engravings which I had bought at Bangkok--fine Cossack cavalry, lance in rest; some Napoleons (the First), for which I gave a penny; and some battles of Magenta, portraits of Victor Emmanuel and of Garibaldi, very white, blue, and red, and some Zouaves; also some brass-headed nails and some brandy; and it was quite pleasing to see how delighted they were, regretting only that I should go away before I had given them my whole stock.

TO SAMUEL STEVENS, ESQ.

[To be communicated to the Royal Geographical Society.]

Louang Prabang, 1st August, 1861. Lat. 20° 50′, long. 102° 35′ 3″, merid. Greenwich.

DEAR MR. STEVENS,

Being entirely cut off from all communication with Bangkok, from which I am nearly 700 miles distant, is the only reason why you have not heard from me for so long a time.

In January last I quitted the Siamese province of Saraburi, where during four months I had been making active exertions in order to enable me to penetrate into Western Laos, and to explore the basin of the Mekon. Unluckily in March I was forced, after having at great expense proceeded 350 miles, to return to Bangkok, in order to claim more assistance and protection than had hitherto been accorded to me, and a passport to counteract the difficulties continually thrown in my way by the mandarins, a class not less jealous and greedy here than in China. A letter of recommendation which had been voluntarily given to me (on my departure in October, 1860) by the Khrôme Louang Wougsâ, who is considered to be the prince best disposed towards Europeans in all Siam, and who has the superintendence of all the country which I intended to visit, turned out after all to be only a kind of letter of Bellerophon’s. In spite of all my entreaties and valuable presents I obtained nothing better; still I set off again.

I have passed three times through the forest of the Dong Phya Phia, which separates Korat from the ancient Siamese provinces of the south and east. This thick jungle covers a space of thirty miles in breadth,--that is to say, the chain of mountains which separates the basin of the Mekon from that of the Menam.

After passing the mountains you reach a sandy and generally arid plain, where nothing is to be seen but resinous trees of stunted growth, bamboos, underwood, and sometimes only grass; but in some places a richer soil permits cultivation, and there fields of rice and bananas have been established. I found in this district both oligist and magnetic iron.

In the bed of a torrent I also discovered gold and copper in two different places. This district is rich and abundant in precious minerals, neglected or unknown until now, except by a small tribe of 400 or 500 Kariens, without doubt a remnant of the aborigines, who a short time ago, in order to preserve their independence, retired into almost inaccessible places, thirty or forty miles eastward of the tracts traversed by the caravans. Monkeys, panthers, elephants, and other wild beasts are the only inhabitants of this mountain, which the natives regard as the abode of death on account of its insalubrity.

Korat Ongcor Aithe of the Cambodians was formerly the bulwark of Cambodia on the north and west: a solid rampart supported by a large épaulement, the work of Khmer Dôme (the ancient Cambodians), still surrounds the town. It is at present governed by a Siamese mandarin of the first class, a kind of viceroy, but the ancient inhabitants have nearly disappeared, and it contains only about 300 Chinese or their descendants, small resident merchants, 300 other individuals who go about the country trading, and 1500 or 2000 Laotians, Cambodians, and Siamese, who, like wolves or jackals which follow an army or caravan, have come there from all parts of the kingdom, or have remained there after the wars of Laos and Cambodia, in order to lead a life in harmony with their inclinations, attacking travellers and Chinese merchants, in fact a hand of miscreants, with few exceptions destitute of all good qualities.

In the environs are two temples, which would do honour to the founders of the Cambodian edifices: one of them is in good preservation, and of this I have made a drawing. The style, architecture, and workmanship are all alike; one would say that the same artists and workmen had drawn the plans and executed them. Again you see those immense blocks, beautifully cut, joined without cement, and covered with carving and bas-reliefs.

One of these temples is situated about thirty miles from the town, and is said to have been founded by a Queen; the other, nine miles to the east, is supposed to have been built by the King her husband. Much farther east it is said that there are others containing beautiful sculptures, but I have not been able to visit them, as they are out of my route.

Want of means for the easy and advantageous removal of merchandise, causes Korat to be the central market for all the eastern part of the country. There they bring all the silk of Laos, langoutis, skins, horns, ivory, peacocks’ tails, &c., which the active Chinese merchants sell again at a good profit at Bangkok, notwithstanding all the taxes they have to pay, having brought from thence cotton and other useful articles of Chinese and European manufacture for the use of the natives. Thus there passes daily through the forest of Dong Phya Phia, on the average, a caravan of from 100 to 150 oxen. With protective instead of restrictive laws, and an enlightened and civilized government, this commerce would increase threefold in a very short time.

Notwithstanding the small population of Korat, it is the chief town of a province, or rather an extensive state, containing eleven towns or boroughs, chief towns of districts, and a great number of villages, more or less populated. Fifteen days’ journey brings you from Korat to Bassac on the banks of the Mekon, and in the same latitude.

My intention was to proceed northwards, only stopping in the province of Louang Prabang, and then to descend the river as far as Cambodia. I hired elephants, and five days after, having passed through several villages inhabited by the descendants of ancient Siamese colonists who had taken refuge there in time of war, passing continually through forests of resin trees thinly scattered, I arrived at Ban Prang, a village where I discovered a ruined tower, and also the remains of an ancient temple. The next place I arrived at was Chaiapoune, the principal Laotian town in the north, and the chief town of the district. Here also I found ruins; but they were inconsiderable, and seemed more like a Laotian imitation than the work of Khmer Dôme. The inscriptions on the other temples in the province of Korat resemble those of Ongcor: here I found upon a block of broken slate-stone an inscription in Laotian characters, but which is unintelligible even to the inhabitants of the country. These, with some remains of idols and towers at the foot of a mountain in the district, were the only vestiges of that ancient civilization which I discovered in the north. Everything leads me to suppose that here also were the limits which separated the kingdom of Cambodia from that of Vieng Thiane, destroyed during the last war which the Siamese raised against the Western Laotians or _white-bellies_. It was in this district that I was stopped in my travels by the authorities of the country, who treated me with great rudeness, and who forbade the people to let me have any means of transport, even after seeing my passport. I was therefore obliged to retrace my steps, deploring the expense and loss of time in the best part of the year, and which will cause me serious inconvenience.

LETTERS ADDRESSED TO M. MOUHOT.[10]

[10] Several of these letters were never received by M. Mouhot.

FROM M. GUILLOUX.

Brelum, among the Stiêns, 12th August, 1859.

DEAR M. MOUHOT,

It must be allowed that you have plenty of courage; and before knowing you, I feel a strong interest in you; indeed, I feel as though I loved you already. You will be very welcome, and must share pot-luck with me, like a brother, will you not? I trust you will not be scandalized at any of our ways; for among the savages we live in rather an uncivilized fashion. But with good hearts all will go well.

Your servant Nhu arrived yesterday among the Stiêns at Brelum, quite tired with the journey, and with his feet in a sad state. A few days’ rest, however, will restore him. He looks to me like a good fellow. You may be sure we shall take care of him, as well as of your little Chinese when he arrives.

You must never trust to the word of a Cambodian, dear M. Mouhot; they are terrible boasters.

You are two long days’ journey from us, and will have to pass one night in the forest. We will try to send you one or two vehicles. These, with a good covering and a fire, will preserve you from injury from the night air. You say, too, that you are accustomed to sleep on the ground; it is well to be able to do everything.

Unluckily, my feet are very bad just now, or I should have been delighted to come and meet you. I will send the three carriages--carriages! wretched carts rather! There will be an Annamite seminarist to lead the caravan; he is a good fellow, and clever at that kind of work. You can talk to him in Latin. Two of the carts are drawn by oxen, and one by buffaloes; but if they are not enough to bring your luggage, ask the Cambodians boldly for more, and show them your letter from the king.

Our carts will arrive one day after the return of the Cambodians; when you arrive I will explain why. I trust that will be soon. I wish you a good journey. Keep your gun loaded, for animals of all kinds abound. But you will find here warm hearts, patriotism, and, above all, no ceremony.

FROM M. CHAS. FONTAINE.

Pinhalú, Cambodia.

DEAR M. MOUHOT,

I think of you in your peregrinations, and I feel sure that you must meet with many obstacles and difficulties; but with patience, perseverance, and help from on high, a great deal may be done.

As for myself, I have not got rid of my atony--for such is my illness. At first I obtained some relief by means of opium as an astringent and quinine as a tonic, and by great attention to diet, living almost wholly on broth; a piece of meat, or even an egg, throws me back for a week.

M. Guilloux set off in good health on the 9th January. He tells me that you have promised to go and see his relations when you return to France.

I shall never forget, dear M. Mouhot, the pleasure that I experienced in the few days that I passed in your society; such days are so rare in our missionary life.

All is quiet just now in Cambodia; the forts or redoubts are guarded only by a few men. Mgr. Miche is expected to return from Komput about the end of March. Shall I be so happy as to receive news of you? It would give me great pleasure, and recall that which I have already experienced in our meeting in this life. Let us hope to be re-united, no more to part, in a happier one.

Pray receive my kindest remembrances, and believe me, dear M. Mouhot,

Your true friend in the Lord,

MARIE CHS. FONTAINE.

FROM M. CHAS. FONTAINE.

Singapore, 29th May, 1860.

MY VERY DEAR FRIEND, M. MOUHOT,

Your two kind and welcome letters, one from Battambong on the 7th March, and the other from Bangkok on the 3rd May, reached me when I was about three days’ distance from Singapore, where I had gone for my health, and which I reached in April, after having passed the whole month of March in Bangkok.

I must tell you that MM. Arnoux and Guilloux have been able to buy five or six little savage children, and that they now meet with a little more kindness from the natives than they did. When France shall reign in Cochin China, and the natives can shake off the yoke of the Cambodians, it is to be hoped that they will be better disposed towards religion. The king has already discovered the mistake he made in attacking the Annamites, who may fall upon him without dread of the French. Mgr. Miche thinks that the daily flight of the Cambodian soldiers will avoid new provocation, and that the war may not take place; but every one is on the _qui vive_. The king has sent a letter to ask for silence on the part of M. Miche. They are fawning curs now; but on the slightest return of good fortune, their arrogance will be redoubled.

You gave me much pleasure, dear M. Mouhot, by your promise to visit my family at Laval. If you go near there, I shall expect no less from your kindness.

I hope to see you again, either at Singapore or at Saigon, before your return to Europe. May the good God guide your steps and preserve your life in this country, where death finds so many victims! I beg it through the intercession of our common mother.

Believe in my cordial friendship.

Yours most truly, in Jesus and Mary,

M. CH. FONTAINE.

FROM M. GUILLOUX.

Among the Stiêns at Brelum, 1st October, 1860.

DEAR M. MOUHOT,

I received your welcome letter of the 4th May, and it is impossible to tell you the pleasure it gave me. I was much pleased to hear that you were still in good health. May the good God aid and bless your efforts, and send you home safe and well to your family and country!

I sympathize sincerely with you in your disappointment at not meeting at Bangkok with more kindness among those from whom you had a right to expect aid and protection, and who are paid well for that purpose. Alas! how weak we all are when we rely for aid only on men like ourselves. But you, dear M. Mouhot, do not do so; you know how to seek support from a higher source; and while you remain the submissive child of God, be sure He will not abandon you.

I went to Pinhalú last month, and brought back a young Annamite with me, but the poor fellow died.

You see I can travel; but I am not strong. I have been often ill since your departure; and M. Arnoux is going this time to undertake the journey to Cambodia. May God bring him back safe and well!

The affairs of Cochin China are very bad; debauchery and infamy are rife at Saigon. So many crimes cannot bring a blessing on the colony.

No news from China.

Adieu, dear M. Mouhot. Believe me ever one of your most faithful friends,

GUILLOUX.

FROM DR. CAMPBELL, R.N.

Bangkok, 15th Dec. 1860.

MY DEAR M. MOUHOT,

Your letters of the 30th October and 20th November were duly delivered to me on the 12th instant. I was naturally rejoiced to find you continue in good health and spirits; and I sincerely trust you will be able, on each occasion you write, to give me a like favourable account.

Since you left there has been little or no change in Bangkok, the only domestic item I have to communicate being the recent marriage of Dr. Brady’s eldest daughter to one of the missionaries named M’Gilvary, who used to stay with Dr. House.

Only one European letter has arrived for you, but I enclose others from Mr. Wilson and Mr. Adamson, and, by the way, some newspapers from him and M. Malherbe. The latter will probably write to you; if so, I shall enclose his letter. The box from Europe also accompanies this letter. Luckily it has arrived in time; but I only received it yesterday. I forward you the evening mails just arrived by last vessel. I could send you all that have come to hand since you left; but as it is a voluminous paper, it would take up much space, and you might not care to wade through all of them, in spite of the stirring events in Europe. Garibaldi, you will perceive, has liberated Sicily, and all but done likewise for the Neapolitan kingdom. The King of Naples left his capital without firing a shot; but made a stand at Capua, where his Neapolitans and mercenaries made a determined though ineffectual resistance. The King of Sardinia in the mean time has invaded the Marches, and now it is believed the states of the Pope are wrested from him, Rome and the suburban villages alone being retained for him by the French army stationed at Rome. It is not believed that an attempt will be made to take Rome or Venice, as that would be encountering the two great military Continental Powers, Austria and France. And it is supposed that the aim of the King of Sardinia, in invading the states of the Church and Naples, is to prevent the too ardent Garibaldi from fulfilling his threat of no peace till the Quirinal and the palace of the Doges be emancipated. However, all this you will see by the papers herewith.

The China war is over. The combined forces advanced and took Pekin. The emperor fled; but a treaty has been signed, and a large sum as indemnity--though, I believe, not equal to the outlay--is to be given to the European belligerents.

A Dutch ship is now here with an ambassador to make a treaty.

At Bangkok we have had higher tides this season than there have been for several years. The place continues healthy.

I forward you some calomel as requested. Calomel is a good purgative, and it might be well occasionally to take one such in preference to others; but castor oil is the safest where there is any irritation of the bowels. In such cases it should alone be used; though, if you fancy there be derangement of the liver, it would be well to use the mineral.

M. Malherbe has made up his mind to stay in Bangkok. As soon as his successor comes out, he (M. M.) will live near Santa Cruz, at the house owned by Mr. Hunter.

There is a chance of the second king going to Saraburi shortly in a steamer; so, if I think newspapers would reach you before the Chinaman, I may send you some, if a mail arrives by that time. However, I shall not, you may depend upon it, forget to attend to your wishes; but I really fear, after leaving Korat, it will be difficult to send you letters. Even to Korat it will not be easy; but though you did not tell me to send thither, I will do so, if possible, within two or three months; after that date it would be precarious, and I shall not do so. However, you can often, by the governors, have an opportunity of writing to me; and if you have altered any of your plans, or think of doing so, let me know, so that I may forward news if an opportunity offers for doing so.

The articles sent are: one large box from Mr. Adamson, one small ditto from Malherbe, one ditto from England, one parcel of papers from Mr. Swainson, one ditto from myself; three letters (besides this one) are enclosed in the box from M. Malherbe, which I will seal after enclosing this. The calomel is also in the same box.

And now, wishing you a prosperous, pleasant journey, believe me,

Yours very sincerely,

JAS. CAMPBELL.

P.S.--Remember, whenever you return, I shall expect you to come direct to my house, and make it your own.

FROM M. E. SILVESTRE.

Battambong, 26th Nov. 1860.

DEAR M. MOUHOT,

I had the honour of writing to you in September last; did you receive my letter? As I did not know the courier, and am ignorant whether his fidelity was to be depended upon, I do not wish to lose a sure occasion which presents itself of recalling myself to your remembrance.

It is now the end of the rainy season, and I think that you must have returned from your expedition. I trust it has been successful, and that you have not left your courage and good health behind you on the banks of the Mekon or in the forests of Laos.

I had promised to collect for you some “sinsei;” but the ants, true Garibaldians, have annexed them during my journey to Pinhalú, and all that I have been able to collect since are as nothing compared to what the first rains brought with them. Such as they are, I send them to you; they are few in number, but for that you must blame the ants.

I have just had a visit from M. Miche and M. Arnoux. They only remained a few days; and in spite of his wish to see Ongcor, M. Arnoux was unable to go there.

They are raising troops here, preparing arms, and getting ready to assist the Cambodians against the Annamites. The death of the King of Cambodia will perhaps put an end to these fine projects.

The mandarin who was sent by the King of Siam to carry away the stones from Ongcor, and bring them to Bangkok, has been assassinated in the “Pra Sat Ea proum,” and the mandarins of Ongcor are accused of the murder; but they say that those of Battambong had a hand in it. They have, therefore, all been sent for to Bangkok for judgment, and among them the son of our late governor. You see we are not over tranquil here. The war particularly terrifies my poor Battambongians.

Mgr. Miche is going to Bangkok in January or February; perhaps you may be there.

Receive the assurance, &c.,

E. SILVESTRE.

FROM M. LARNAUDIE.[11]

[11] M. Larnaudie accompanied the Siamese Ambassador to Paris, as interpreter, in 1860.

Pakprio, 25th January, 1861.

MY DEAR FRIEND, M. MOUHOT,

I have just received the two letters which you were kind enough to write to me from Kong Khoc, containing enclosures for MM. Arnoux and Silvestre. I much regretted not finding you here, that I might have had the pleasure of seeing you once more, and of conversing with you again before your departure for Laos. I am glad to hear that you have been able to do something at Khao-Khoc in spite of the advanced season.

I wish you much success in your new sphere of action. Do you know that I sometimes envy you? Do not forget to procure some skins of the argus pheasant; I think it differs from those of the Malayan peninsula. Take great care of your health; and if you are in want of anything which can be sent to you by way of Korat, write to me for it.

The young man who will give you this is a Christian and an associate of Cheek-Ke; he is a worthy lad, and you may trust him with your collections, if you have been able to make any in going through Don Phya Phia. All the Laotians declare that in that forest there is a kind of orang-outang which they call Bua, and which they say is only to be distinguished from an old man by its having no joints in its knees. Among all their fables there is probably some truth; try to find out.

Excuse this scrawl; I write on my knees.

Your sincere friend,

LARNAUDIE.

FROM M. E. SILVESTRE.

Battambong, 4th January, 1862.[12]

[12] This date is after M. Mouhot’s death.

DEAR M. MOUHOT,

Imagine my surprise and joy when, a week ago, a worthy Chinese from Korat entered my house, bringing me your letter of the 8th April. Blessed be God for granting you good health and courage. With these you can go far, even to the source of the Mekon; and if you return through Cambodia, with what pleasure I shall see you again! But your letter is dated more than eight months ago, and where are you now--I trust that the rainy season induced you to descend the Menam instead of the Mekon. Should you ever return to Battambong, you will find something new there. A pretty little church now replaces the old one; it is not yet quite finished, but I trust will be so very shortly.

Since I last wrote to you, grave events have taken place in Cambodia; the mandarins and people have risen against the young king in favour of his brother. It has been less a revolt than a universal pillage; nothing has been spared. Mgr. Miche had great trouble to guard his house, with the help of a young missionary and M. Aussoleil, for all the Christians fled. For a fortnight he was subject to constant attacks, and more than once saw sabres uplifted over his head; but his firmness and bravery awed the mob, and he was lucky enough to preserve his house.

Some damage was done to the Annamite church at the end of the village. M. Miche wrote letter after letter to the French commander in Cochin China, but his messengers were all murdered, or else robbed, and their boats taken away from them.

At last, out of six letters, one reached its destination, and two days after the French flag appeared in the rivers of Cambodia; and at Pinhalú, six or seven cannon-shots spread terror among the rebels for twenty-five leagues round.

The mandarins who had pillaged the village were fined, and since then the Christians in Cambodia have been respected; and a letter sealed by M. Miche is the best possible passport. All this is well, you will say, and our countrymen did their duty.

You must excuse my lengthiness; at least, it will show that you are not forgotten at Battambong, but that we preserve here a happy remembrance of your too short stay. May you return in a few months, and recruit after your fatigues.

I must conclude with offering you my good wishes on the new year, and praying God to have you always and everywhere in his holy keeping.

I am yours very sincerely,

E. SILVESTRE.

FROM M. MALHERBE.

Bangkok, 25th May, 1861.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

On my return from Singapore I was much astonished to hear that you had been forced to go back again, and was much pained to think of all the troubles and discomforts you must have had to endure. How much I regret not having been with you! perhaps I might have succeeded in persuading you against making a new attempt, and have induced you rather to pass some years here with me. Your task is a glorious one; but when life is at stake, one must take care and not risk it rashly. In any case do not attempt the impossible; and if your troubles recommence, return here; you will always find a friend ready to receive you.

Your letter from Korat reached me a few days ago. I thank you for it; it gave me great pleasure. In a few days I shall set out for Europe; but I have given my orders, and you will find my house ready for you at any time of the day or night. If you do not make use of it, I shall be really angry.

Every one here is interested for you, and asks for news of you. Where are you now? Doubtless much fatigued and _ennuyé_ wherever you are; yet you must be travelling through a fine country. If you want anything which it is possible to send you, have no scruples; I have given my clerks all necessary instructions, if by chance or any unforeseen circumstance--such as may easily occur on a journey--you find yourself in want of what they call here “ticals.” We are friends,--dispose freely of my purse; we will divide like brothers. Do not be offended at this offer, it comes from a heart devoted to you; therefore, have no false pride. Ask, and I will help you.

The heat is dreadful just now, and every one is ill of dysentery.

Au revoir, dear M. Mouhot. Take care of yourself, and do not be discouraged by the dreadful climate. That we may have, please God, many pleasant days together yet, is the earnest wish of your real friend,

L. MALHERBE.

LETTERS ADDRESSED TO THE FAMILY OF THE LATE M. MOUHOT.

FROM DR. CAMPBELL TO MADAME MOUHOT.

Bangkok, April 7th, 1862.

MY DEAR MADAME MOUHOT,

About three weeks ago I had the pleasure of forwarding a letter from your husband, and I mentioned the probability of a second one, written before the one sent, reaching me in time for this mail. This has been realized, and I enclose the letter referred to. News from Luang Prabang, up to the middle of November, have also reached Bangkok, and oh! my dear madam, what a sad duty devolves upon me in narrating certainties that have transpired since my last communication. Would that I had some relation in London to whom I could write and request him to call upon you, to divulge the painful truth that your husband--my valued friend--is, alas! now no more. It may perhaps in a measure tend to soothe your sorrow under this severe trial, to say that I never knew a person who was so universally esteemed as he was by the foreign community of this city; and that all who had the pleasure of his acquaintance deeply regret his sudden and premature loss. The last letter he wrote me was dated from Louang Prabang, on the 30th August; in it he was satisfied with his success, and altogether buoyant in spirits. He continued in the neighbourhood of the above-named city, which is the capital of north-east Laos, till the middle of October, when he returned to the city. On the 19th he has written in his journal, “Attacked with fever;” but his servant and the Laos official account of his illness make it the 18th. On the 29th he made an entry, but nothing subsequently, and departed this life on Sunday the 10th November, at 7 P.M., being twenty-eight days subsequent to the attack. His servants, after seeing him interred, commenced their journey hither, taking with them his baggage and everything he had collected. M. D’Istria, the present French Consul, has to officiate as administrator to the late M. Mouhot’s estate, but has assigned to me the care of all your late husband’s manuscripts and collections. These I thought of forwarding forthwith for Singapore, and thence, by the kindness of Mr. Pady, to Europe; but as I expect to leave for England on a short leave of absence by the middle of next month, I think it better to retain them till then, and convey them home myself.

On your late husband arriving here, he brought me a small parcel from Dr. Norton Shaw, Secretary to the Royal Geographical Society, Whitehall-place; and as it is only proper that the Society should be made aware of this martyr to science, I enclose two letters--the last he wrote me--for your perusal, and that they may be handed to the above-named gentleman for his information, forwarding, at the same time, the announcement of M. Mouhot’s untimely death. On looking over the charts he has left behind him, I find Louang Prabang placed 3° to the north and about 1° to the east of that denoted in the map given by Bishop Pallegoix; but as it would be improper to write about his discoveries till you have received the documents, and given them to some person for publication, I shall not dilate further on that topic.

And now, my dear madam, I beg to tender you my sincere condolence under the heavy bereavement which it has pleased the Almighty to inflict upon you,

And remain yours very sincerely,

JAMES CAMPBELL.

FROM M. CH. FONTAINE, MISSIONARY AT COCHIN CHINA, TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.

Foreign Missions, Paris, 128, Rue du Bac, 15th August, 1862.

DEAR FRIEND,

Permit me to give you this title; all the sentiments expressed in your letter authorise it. What a worthy brother you weep for! and I, what an honoured friend!

I had the pleasure of knowing M. H. Mouhot. I saw him first at Bangkok, and six or eight months after at Pinhalú, in Cambodia, where he remained with us ten days, sharing with us our house and our table, which is always open to any worthy fellow-countryman whom chance may lead to those parts. In both places all our brotherhood were charmed to make the acquaintance of so devoted a scion of learning, so polished a Frenchman, and so exemplary a Christian. All these qualities rendered him dear to the whole of the missionaries who had the pleasure of his acquaintance; and it was a real happiness to us to render him any little service possible in the performance of the troublesome task which he had imposed upon himself, of exploring countries so wild and destitute of comfort.

On his return from among the Stiêns, where he met MM. Guilloux and Arnoux, this dear friend lavished on me the greatest care, and expended for me all his medical science; for I had then been several months suffering from the malady which afterwards obliged me to return to France to recruit.

He left us to go to Battambong to M. Silvestre, and at the parting we experienced the deepest regret at losing the society of a friend who had so much cheered our solitude. From Battambong he was to return to Siam, and thence to Birmah, Bengal, and Europe. I wrote to him several times, both from Bangkok, from Pinhalú, and from Singapore, where my illness had induced me to go to consult an English physician; but M. Mouhot had changed his plans; he wished to explore Laos, a country whose climate is always so fatal to foreigners. There God saw fit to summon him to a better world. This I read with great sorrow in a Parisian newspaper; it was an extract from a London journal.

When I was abroad I heard of the death of my father, then of that of my mother, and I declare that these two announcements did not make more impression upon me than did the news of the death of a man whose equal I had not met with for twenty years; and the thought of his death, without any help but that of his servants during his illness and in his last moments, was more than enough to bring tears to my eyes as I remembered this good and benevolent friend. Be assured, dear Sir, that my feelings are shared by all the brothers who knew him. The natives themselves must have felt regret at his death; for all who knew him had only praises to repeat of his conduct towards them; and all acknowledged his gentleness and generosity--both qualities invaluable in the eyes of those people.

Permit me, then, dear Sir, to unite my regrets to your grief, and to present my respects to Madame Mouhot, together with my warmest sympathy with her in her affliction; also with your father and your wife. Receive my thanks for your having honoured me with your friendship; and be assured of my desire to be useful to you if ever it should lie in my power.

MARIE CH. FONTAINE, Missionary at Saigon, Cochin China.

P.S.--Twelve of us are about to set out for Indo-China, and I will not fail to express to Mgr. Miche and his companions the kind feelings which you express with regard to them. On the 20th we shall sail from Marseilles in the _Hydaspe_. Write to the Seminary of Foreign Missions, whence our correspondence will be forwarded to us. My family live at Laval, and you will be always welcome there.

FROM MR. SAMUEL STEVENS TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.

MR. STEVENS has the honour to inform M. C. Mouhot that the collection made by his late brother in the mountains of Laos is very fine, particularly the insects and shells. Among the former are a great number of beautiful and new species, one of which, a splendid Carabus, has been described in the ‘Zoological Review’ at Paris, under the name of Mouhotia gloriosa, in compliment to the late lamented M. Mouhot. This name is very appropriate, as it is one of the most beautiful and remarkable beetles which has been seen for years. There is also a beautiful set of Longicorns, and other insects of the order of Coleoptera, of which a great number are new to science.

The land and fresh-water shells are also very beautiful. Among the former there are twenty-five different genera; eight or ten are quite new, and some of them very remarkable. They will shortly be described by Dr. Pfeiffer and others.

I can truly say that the insects and shells equal, if they do not surpass, the most beautiful collections I have ever received; and clearly demonstrate how rich a country for the naturalist lies between Siam and Cochin China.

There is also a small collection of birds and some monkeys, small animals, reptiles, and serpents in spirits, of which some are quite new.

The collection of insects and shells made in Cambodia was also very beautiful, and contained the large and fine _Helix Cambojiensis_, one of the best and most beautiful specimens known; also, the _Bulimus Cambojiensis_, and a splendid _Buprestida_, new and unique, besides a great number of others, new to science.[13]

[13] M. Mouhot, in his letters to his family, always spoke with the highest esteem of Mr. Stevens, to whom they now beg to offer their thanks for the honourable manner in which he has conducted everything connected with their unfortunate relative.

FROM M. MALHERBE TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.

Bangkok, Nov. 1862.

DEAR SIR,

On my return from Java a few days ago, I found waiting for me your kind letter, for which I thank you, although I should have wished to make your acquaintance under happier circumstances. All consolation from me, I know, would be ineffectual. The friendship I felt for your brother was not that of a stranger, but rather as though he were a member of my family; and I felt most painfully the news which met me on my return, of his death so far away: for I had been pleasing myself with the idea of his return, and long before my arrival here had given orders for his reception, and that he should be welcomed as though I were present.

One great consolation to the survivors is the feeling of how much he is regretted; here he had not a single enemy, but every one spoke of him as the best of men. I vainly tried to dissuade him from undertaking this dangerous expedition, for I had already lost a dear friend in that country. He was treacherously assassinated there by his boatmen.

I am much pleased with the frank manner in which you offer me your friendship. I thank you, and accept it with all my heart.

PAPER READ AT THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY,

10TH MARCH, 1862.

LORD ASHBURTON, PRESIDENT.

M. Mouhot traversed Cambodia from east to west, and also ascended the Mekon river to the frontier of Laos. He returned to the coast by crossing the water-parting between it and the basin of the Menam river, and descending to Bangkok.

The Mekon is a vast melancholy-looking river, three miles broad, covered with islands, and flowing with the rapidity of a torrent. Its shores are covered with aquatic birds, but its waters are almost deserted by canoes.[14] A plain covered with coarse herbage separates it from the forest by which Cambodia is overspread, and which can rarely be traversed except by cutting a way. That forest is exceedingly unhealthy.

[14] The war in Cochin China has prevented many of the Annamite fishermen from coming down the Mekon to fish in the great lake, which is one cause of its desertion.

M. Mouhot reached Brelum, a village in lat. 11° 58′, long. 107° 12′, inhabited by a secluded race of wild people, whose customs are minutely described, differing in features from the Cambodian and Laos tribes, and forming one of a series of similar groups widely distributed in the less accessible parts of Cochin China, Cambodia, and Burmah. They are believed by M. Mouhot to be the aborigines of the land. Two Catholic missionaries were resident at Brelum.

Subsequently the author visited the large Buddhist ruins of Ongcor, of which he has brought back numerous sketches. He speaks of the mineral wealth of Cambodia--its iron, gold, lead, and copper. In the islands of Phu-Quoc or Koh Tron, belonging to Cochin China and near to Komput, there are rich mines of coal, similar to our Cannel coal, from which ornaments are made. Several extinct volcanoes exist in Pechaburi, of heights not exceeding 2000 feet above the sea-level, and there are two active ones in an island called Ko-man, lat. 12° 30′, long. 101° 50′, in the Gulf of Siam.

Dr. Hodgkin stated that, besides the two letters, portions of which had been read, and the drawings and charts, M. Mouhot had likewise sent an elaborate description of the ruins which he found at Ongcor and in its vicinity. The plans on the table would give some idea of the magnitude of these ruins. A great part of the manuscript which accompanied them described their structure and workmanship. They were constructed chiefly of granite, and many of the stones were not only of very large size, but were elaborately carved. The workmanship of some of them was described as exquisite, and the designs not so deficient in artistic taste as one might suppose. Many of them represented imaginary animals, such as serpents with many heads; others, beasts of burden--horses, elephants, and bullocks. These temples were situated in a district which was now completely imbedded in a forest very difficult of access, and were so much in ruins that trees were growing on the roofs, and many of the galleries were in a state of great decay. The base and a large portion of the elevation were constructed of a ferruginous rock, but for the upper part blocks of granite were used--so exquisitely cut as to require no mortar to fill the interstices, and carved with relievos relating to mythological subjects indicative of Buddhism. M. Mouhot had copied some of the inscriptions, which from their antiquity the natives who accompanied him were unable to read. The characters so nearly resembled the Siamese that Dr. H. had no doubt that a skilful archæologist would have very little difficulty in deciphering them. He believed that the remains in question would be found equal in value to those which had recently been explored in Central America; and he felt convinced that when the descriptions were published, M. Mouhot would be thought deserving of great respect.

Mr. Crawfurd said it was about forty years since he visited the country, but his recollection of it continued vivid to this day. Most people knew very little about Cambodia; its very name was only familiar to us in that of its product, gamboge, which word was nothing else than a corruption of Cambodia. It was one of five or six states lying between India and China, whose inhabitants had lived under a second or third-rate civilisation at all times--never equal, whether physically, morally, or intellectually, to the Chinese, or even the Hindoos. At the present time Cambodia was a poor little state, having been encroached upon by the Siamese to the north, and by Cochin China to the south. M. Mouhot had given us an account of a country that no European had ever visited before. With respect to that gentleman’s belief that certain wild tribes whom he described had descended from Thibet, he (Mr. Crawfurd) believed that his ethnology was at fault. For his part, he believed these wild people to be no other than natives of the country--mere mountaineers, who had escaped from the bondage, and hence from the civilisation, of the plain. Such people existed in Hindoostan, in Siam, in the Burmese empire, in Cochin China, and in China itself--in fact, they were of no distinct origin, but simply the natives in a rude, savage, uncivilised state.

With respect to the French, he did not know on what grounds they had gone to Cambodia. They had obtained possession of one spot which was eminently fitted for a settlement. The finest river in all India, as far as European shipping was concerned, was the river at Saigon, which he had himself ascended about 14 miles, and found it navigable even for an old “seventy-four.” He believed it was the intention of the French to attempt the conquest of the whole of Cochin China. If they effected it, and occupied it, they would find it a monstrous difficulty. It would prove another Algeria, with the additional disadvantage of being 15,000 miles off instead of 500, and within the torrid instead of the temperate zone. The climate was very hot, the country was covered with forests, the malaria and the heat rendered it unsuitable for the European constitution. If they made an advance upon the Cochin Chinese capital, they would find the enterprise one of great difficulty. From Saigon to the northern confines of Cochin China the distance is 1500 miles, and the capital itself could not be less than 700 or 800 miles from Saigon, situated on a small river navigable only for large boats, with a narrow mouth, and two considerable fortresses, one on each side, at its mouth. When they arrived, they would find one of the largest and most regular fortifications in the East. He believed it was the most regular, after Fort William in Bengal, and a great deal larger than Fort William. It was constructed by the French, and now they will have considerable difficulty in conquering their own work. The French had a perfect right to be in Cochin China, and their being there would do no harm, but rather good, however questionable the benefit to themselves; for their presence amounted to the substitution of a friendly and civilised power for a rude and inhospitable one.

The drawings on the table were exceedingly curious and interesting; they were admirably done, and exhibited representations of some remarkable monuments, evidently of Buddhist origin. They reminded him very much, though inferior in quality and beauty, of the monuments of the island of Java. He never heard of volcanoes when he was in Cambodia, but he had no doubt M. Mouhot’s information was correct, though it appeared he did not describe them from his own personal experience. He would add a word upon the alphabets which were on the table. The Cambodians had invented a written phonetic character, which they used at the present time; therefore there could be no difficulty in understanding a Cambodian manuscript. But there were several of those now exhibited which were of more or less antiquity. One of them seemed to be the alphabet which was used by the Cambodians in their religious rites. The figure of Buddha showed that the Cambodians were worshippers of Buddha.

TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.

Montbéliard,[15] 13th June, 1862.

[15] Montbéliard is the birthplace of Cuvier and of Laurillard.

LETTER TO M. CHARLES MOUHOT.

The members of the “Société d’Émulation” at Montbéliard desire to express the deep regret which they have experienced at the premature death of their fellow-townsman M. Henri Mouhot. After a three years’ journey in Cambodia and Siam, during which he devoted himself to researches which have been highly appreciated by the Geographical and Zoological Societies of London, he fell a victim at the early age of thirty-five to his love of science. His work remained unfinished, but it was gloriously commenced, and his name will not perish. The regret experienced by his friends is the greater from their conviction that had he lived he would have been still more an honour to his native town, and that the name of Mouhot would have ranked side by side with those illustrious ones which have already rendered Montbéliard famous in the department of Natural Science.

THE END.

LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET, AND CHARING CROSS.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Note

Page headers have been converted to headings.

The following apparent errors have been corrected:

p. 38 "ever" changed to "every"

(Illustration facing p. 60) "Therond" changed to "Thérond"

p. 71 "Therond" changed to "Thérond"

p. 92 "enoguh" changed to "enough"

p. 110 "oxen," changed to "oxen."

p. 113 "caravans" changed to "caravans."

p. 116 "thos" changed to "those"

p. 198 "call and see." changed to "call and see.”"

p. 199 "wife who" changed to "wife, who"

Other variant spellings and inconsistent punctuation have been left as printed.

p. 181 The fraction "16- /3" is incomplete in the printed book.

p. 239 The translations for "horse" and "goat" are identical.