Evening star., 1923-07-29

nit the tra1l-proVlued tnere
was a trail to hit.
Another river steamer
smaller and dirtier than the first
carried me up swamp-lined stream
which was narrower than the Mekong,
and across the great lake of Cam
bodia. an immense shallow pool in
the heart of the Indo-Chinese swamps,
where no dry land could be seen on
any side. and where palms grew up
out of the water and whole villages
of thatched houses fioated upon RATS.
SO far as l had been able to ascer-
tain in Prom PENN, this vessel was to
carry me to A town called Battam-
bang, where the trail-if trail there
was-began. But at daybreak of the
second day, having crossed the lake,
we anchored beside mud bank
topped by dozen nipa-thatched huts,
and an Annamite steward bundled me
into a dilapidated launch.
''Schloop partir." he exclaimed in
pigeon French.
But where does it partir to?'
lie waved his hand in the direction
of a small brook that led into the
jungle. as though this was all 1
needed to know. Another Annamite
turned the fiy-wheel, the engine COM
menced to chug. and away l went,
wondering where L was going.
The brook twisted about through
an inundated forest of scraggly brush
so thickly covered with climbing
vines that the brush itself was fire.
quently hidden. 1t was a snaky look
ing region. The stream wound here
and there in serpentine figures; the
brush was gnarled and twisted: even
the occasional trees which lowered
above the lower vegetation sent out
long, shiny roots that coiled through
the muck like reptiles. Cranes ste cd
in the shallow water with one long
leg poked out behind them. Pelicans
rose in fiocks at our noisy approach,
to flee before US with d prodigious
Tapping of wings that seemed
scarcely strong enough to propel their
big, numbering bodies.
x = X X
I'VE DID not go far. Lily pads
w clogged the propeller, and we
slid alongside, and ! was bundled
into it,
Nov, where in thunder is this
thing going to take me?" ] demanded.
My fellow passengers, Chinese
family and several Cambodian SOL
diers in khaki coats and plaid skirts,
listened to the words without under
standing. chartered among them
selves about me. and giggled shrilly.
a native boatman leaned upon his
pole. and away 1 went again, still
wondering.
The sampan was a long, slender
affair, with barrel shaped roof of
nipathatch forming a, cabin amid
ships.
Its progress was painfully slow.
Hour after hour We crawled along
Sometimes the boatmen poled, some
times they rowed, sometimes when a
patch bordered the stream they
walked along the shore and towed us
with a rope.
Cane-dwellings became more fire.
quent, until they bordered upon the
river like houses upon a street. A
{ Chinese fellow-passenger who evil
IDENTIFY was a merchant of wealth as
indicated by the fact that his wife
wore socks. owned a watch, and by
first pointing upstream and then at
the chronometer. l managed to in
quire when we might reach our
destination.
At length, cocoanut palms and
banana trees began to replace the
jungle grass, the towpath widened
into a road, and the matched huts
became more numerous. And finally
--unmistakable sign of our approach
to civilization-there appeared upon
the road a dilapidated hack with a
native coachman on the box and two
diminutive ponies between the shafts.
The Chinaman hailed it, packed his
wife into one seat, and motioned me